#everyone always had someone else in mind before me but they were unavailable

[orcgirlcock]

💭

#vent #i guess #I want to be the first choice so goddamn bad #all my life I've been a fall-back pick for most things #school activities #my friends #my relationships #everyone always had someone else in mind before me but they were unavailable #so I got picked instead

[meaningofaeons]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ emotionally unavailable

⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, jing yuan, sampo koski ⊹ word count - 3.3k ⊹ notes - gn!reader (sampo, gepard), fem!reader (jing yuan, you're referred to as 'lady'), reader is emotionally constipated or just kinda stoic as the title suggests, I guess you could say tsundere?? mostly fluff -w- ⊹ part 2 here!

sorry for the delay on new writing!! honestly I've had a bit to do around the house and the inspiration hasn't been inspiring Σ(;Φ ω Φ) if you want to send in a request, feel free! I could use some new ideas ♡(ﾐ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﻌ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﾐ)ﾉ thanks for the support!

⊹ Gepard Landau

You honestly didn't have much to think about the Captain of the Silvermane Guards.

Aside from the due respect and mild admiration that just about everyone in Belobog held for him and his military group, you didn't have much else to say. The two of you had never even spoken.

The only connection you could possibly have to him was via his sister, Serval Landau. She was your friend (a tentative word for your situation, you surmise) and would often have him over at her store.

You also tended to lounge about the Neverwinter Workshop ("hanging out", Serval would call it, but you begged to differ), but you had never really paid him much mind, and you assumed he had paid you the same.

Serval's favorite nickname for you is "lounging stray" due to the way you came in and out as you pleased, staying only for food and rest when it was available.

The most you recall interacting with the imposing man was a hesitant wave when he had entered the shop while Serval was out.

After all, it would have been quite rude to completely ignore him—though, honestly, you never cared much for politeness, so you had always mulled that incident over in your head. Why had you greeted him?

About a week later, you were mildly surprised to see a bouquet of flowers in Serval's hands from Eversummer Florist.

It wasn't exactly an unusual assumption to make that the down-to-earth rock-and-roll enthusiast would have her share of admirers, but they were typically more forthcoming with their affections from what you'd observed.

But then, upon spotting you, she promptly shoved them into your arms, announcing that they had been addressed to you, not her.

You hadn't felt your face shift that much in years, nor had you ever experienced that level of shock before.

"Looks like someone has a secret admirer," Serval touted, tuning her guitar on the side with a smirk playing on her lips. Her tone was drawn out, knowing, as if this were some elaborate prank she was in on.

"Wow, Ball Peonies, even? What an expensive spread! Lucky Y/N!"

You didn't even spare her a glance as you took your usual seat in her workshop, thumbing one of the petals with mildly intrigued contemplation.

In your rush to lounge about the workshop and ignore your friend's loud teasing, you failed to notice Gepard at his sister's side, nor the way his ears turned red and he hurried to hush Serval.

"I don't get it," you murmured at last, both siblings' heads whipping over to you. "I don't talk to anyone. Except you, that is."

"Well, I didn't send them. Sorry, my little stray, but as much as I adore you, it's not in that way!"

You gave Serval an unamused raise of your brow, then huffed, mumbling a 'whatever' as you lay on the windowsill in the corner of the shop.

However, that pair of blue eyes sneakily noted that your attention was still taken with the flowers, far from your usual routine of pulling out your phone to scroll.

Eventually, you held them on your chest, deigning to stare out the window as you began drifting off into a half-conscious nap. Your rest, however, was awoken by the sound of loud whispering. Serval noticed the unimpressed look on your face and laughed, clapping her hands together before patting Gepard on the back, who looked thoroughly embarrassed. His face was bright red.

"Well, I gotta head out and run some errands! Keep Y/N company for me, huh, Geppie? They can get lonely."

You chose to ignore that last bit, raising your hand and waving at your friend who practically flew out the door.

An awkward silence settled over the room, which miffed you a bit. What did you have to feel awkward about? This had happened before with other people.

Even then, you weren't keen on breaking it. It seemed the Captain had other plans, though.

"Um..." Gepard spoke up from across the workshop, standing just a bit uncomfortably as he shifted from foot to foot. You glanced over your shoulder at him from where you lay, waiting for him to speak. "Sorry about Serval. She can be a bit much."

"I know," you replied simply, unable to meet his eye for some reason. "I'm in here a lot."

"I know," Gepard echoed. Then, his face went back to tomato-red. "Um, I mean, I see you around a lot in here whenever I visit. Not that I'm intentionally staring at you, or anything of that sort! I just notice—"

"It's okay, I got what you meant."

"Right! Right." The Captain shut himself up, thorough mortification making its way back to his face as he scratched the back of his neck. "S-Sorry, uh, for rambling."

"It's fine."

Well, this was getting painful.

You stunned yourself momentarily when you opened your mouth to speak back first.

"So, uh... How's being Captain and everything?" you murmured, almost too quiet for Gepard to hear. When he realized you had spoken first, his face brightened just a bit, though he still appeared to be fighting the humiliation off his face from his earlier verbal blunder.

"Well, how much would you like to hear about?"

You shrugged. "Anything, I guess. Got any cool stories from the front lines?"

The blonde man smiled, taking the chance to tentatively move closer, pulling over Serval's stool and taking a seat.

"Well..."

About ten minutes later, Serval had decided to spare her poor brother from any more awkwardness, completely sure that the workshop would be thick with silence due to his bashfulness and your nonchalance.

To her surprise, though, she heard muffled voices from within. Serval opened the door as carefully and quietly as she could, peeking her head in just enough to see a sight she never thought she'd see.

You were smiling, even laughing a bit, engaging in conversation about Gepard's duties and your own daily activities (even if there were little of those) from your place on the sill. Her brother seemed to be enjoying himself too, gesturing with his hands as he talked up his own underlings' achievements in battle.

The eldest Landau watched for only a moment longer before shutting the door softly.

"I should go get something to eat... give them a little space."

⊹ Jing Yuan

You liked to call your relationship to the General of the Luofu strictly professional at most.

To call it anything more, in your mind, would be disrespect of the highest order to the man who has defended the fleet for centuries.

Besides, you didn't know if you were exactly capable of anything beyond that. Even your limited friends agreed that you were just about as stoic as one could get.

You frequently heard of their debates with other workers within the Seat of Divine Foresight even as you worked—who was more difficult to approach, you or the General himself?

You scoffed to yourself whenever your so-called "friends" argued that you were, in fact, harder to speak to.

What's so wrong with being professional? If anything, you should be telling them off for gossiping in the workplace.

Still, you couldn't exactly argue with them.

Being the right-hand of the General was enough for you to learn his mannerisms even over a short time, though now, after serving at his side for several decades, you could confidently say he was far less intimidating than everyone made him out to be.

Not that you cared, of course. Strictly professional, you told yourself. His mannerisms had nothing to do with you unless they affected work.

Even with your indifference, though, the General was being... odd lately.

Jing Yuan let out an unabashed yawn as he slumped into his chair, tugging at his hair as he polished off the last of his paperwork.

For once, you thought to yourself with a huff of amusement, going through your own papers at an impressive speed. Read, approve or deny, sign, move on.

Considering he hadn't skimped on his own work, there was no real reason for you to be giving yourself early onset carpal tunnel as you typically did, but you figured it would be best to finish the work as soon as possible anyhow.

It meant less work tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that, for not only you but the other Luofu staff as well.

"...ey."

Your brain tuned out all other noise as you moved past yet another proposal, flicking to the next page of your increasingly shrinking stack.

"Lady Y/N. Hello?"

You ignored the growling within your stomach. After this is done, you thought to yourself, I'll treat myself to a meal at home.

"Lady Y/N."

You jumped nearly ten feet out of your seat at the low voice whispering in your ear, clapping a hand over the side of your head as red-hot mortification set in. You glanced to your side to spot the culprit—none other than your General, Jing Yuan.

Had he just whispered into your ear?! The feeling of his warm breath still lingered.

"General!" you shouted, taking a deep breath as you tried to reel back your attitude and present yourself with decorum, as always. "I am working on these proposals, so if you could please refrain from pulling pranks, it would be much appreciated."

Jing Yuan gave you a wry smile, raising his hands innocently.

"Is part of your job description not answering to me?" he asked unfeignedly, golden eyes twinkling. "I called your name about ten times."

"Well, yes, but..." You raised a brow a moment later. "Surely not ten. I heard my name a total of twice."

"So you were listening." You heaved a sigh. Ever stubborn, he was. "Does that mean you were consciously ignoring me? My, the gall, Lady Y/N."

"Not at all, General," you assured. "Only absorbed in my duties. Now, do you need something of me?"

Jing Yuan tapped his chin, settling into the seat next to you and stretching out. He didn't get too comfortable, though, you discerned. Was he planning to head out for the night?

"Well, yes, I suppose I do. I'm sure you'll only listen if it's a direct order from me, after all."

"Of course, General. I am at your beck and call." He chose to ignore the edge of sarcasm in your voice as you resumed your proposals, trying to finish as many as you could before he announced his task.

"Lady Y/N, I'd be delighted if you would join me for a meal. Anywhere of your choosing, and it will be my treat."

"Right, of course. It will be done, General," you mused half-heartedly, before your froze in your tracks, hand stilling midway through a signature. "...Wh—"

"Fantastic. Then I will await you at the door," Jing Yuan smiled again, and you felt yourself welling up with exasperation at the cockiness displayed in it. "Please don't keep me waiting too long, Lady Y/N. Those proposals can always wait one more day, but I am short on time myself."

You were about ready to protest, dropping your pen as you nearly rose to your feet. Your face was hot.

"General, I—!"

"You wouldn't think of backing out after agreeing so openly, would you?" the white-haired man teased, and then, after contemplating for a moment, he held out a hand. "In fact, why don't we depart right now? Just so I can be sure you won't get absorbed in doing more advance work."

He had completely trapped you. You furrowed your brow in disbelief, and then heaved a deep, long sigh. Finally, after leaving him to stand and await your decision for just a few moments longer, you took his hand.

"Very well. But General, if I may..."

"Of course, my dear."

You flushed again, but remained steadfast in your words.

"To make up for this trickery, please do not skip out on your paperwork again."

Jing Yuan's low, rumbly laughter caused you to look away, lest your feelings show on your face. He still did not let go of your hand.

"I suppose that is only fair. You have a deal, Lady Y/N."

⊹ Sampo Koski

You would be completely remiss to allow anyone to refer to you and Sampo as acquaintances, much less friends.

Although the two of you had grown up fairly close, he allowed you no clemency from his constant scams.

It turned into more of a game for him as time passed, though—your natural stoicism and good head on your shoulders didn't allow any of his jabs or tricks to pull through.

That was perhaps what kept him stuck like glue to your side all these years, though... The fact that you were the one person he couldn't quite swindle.

Not that he actually wanted to, anyhow.

As much as Sampo was a slimy businessman in the eyes of pretty much everyone, he didn't seek a profit from someone as close as you. Well, not unless he did you a favor first, of course, but that's basic reciprocation.

You, on the other hand, found yourself perplexed as of late.

Sure, you had known Sampo for practically your whole life, but getting close to someone or being close by birth didn't make you any less inclined to cut them off if they interfered with your life to a degree that you found to be annoying.

You enjoyed the predictable, the mundanity of your daily life working as a trainee doctor under Natasha. You didn't need anyone in your life who might throw a wrench into the ordinary you currently enjoyed.

So why was Sampo the exception?

It was a fairly typical, ordinary, boring evening when you walked into the clinic—12am sharp, just as Natasha had requested of you. You were frankly quite lucky that she didn't ask more of you, but you supposed she was already pushing her own ability to ask favors of you by requesting you watch the overnight patients while she rested.

You didn't mind, of course. You'd always been a bit of a night owl, especially with the somewhat perpetual darkness of the Underworld thanks to Belobog looming over top of you.

Not to mention, you and Sampo had always spent most of your time together in the evenings anyways, the nighttime routine well suited to both of your sleeping schedules.

You felt a twinge of annoyance shoot through you at the thought of the blue haired man, and quickly placed a hand to your forehead between bandage changings for the patient on the table.

There he was again. Sampo, Sampo, Sampo!

Though you could usually push him out of your mind without a second thought, it was beyond you why he was suddenly popping into your brain more nowadays.

Sometimes it was a mere, 'I wonder what Sampo is up to right now. Not more trouble, I hope.'

Sometimes it was something more bordering worry, and those passing thoughts irritated you the most. What did you care? If he got hurt, it would likely be justified in the wake of one of his scams.

You could rationalize those ideas with the notion of not wanting more work at the clinic should he get injured, but even that was weak. Sampo deigned to avoid Natasha for his own wounds, not wanting to burden the leader of Wildfire, likely more out of fear than actual selflessness.

Still, though—

"Heeeey, Y/N! Miss me?"

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

"What do you want, Koski?" Your tone was flat, not even sparing him a glance as you moved to your next patient. Changing bandages again, a simple routine that could hopefully keep your mind occupied this time.

"So cold..." You could hear the beginnings of a pout on his lips, finding yourself sighing irritably. "I came to see you, after all!"

Your hands paused for a moment, stilling. A minute tremble in his voice. You whipped your head around to focus your sharp eyes on him, and he winced back, his typical happy-go-lucky smile faltering.

"H-Hey, what's the matter? Helping Miss Nat out with some late night patients aga—"

"Show me," you ordered, finishing the bandage you were currently on and standing up, moving towards Sampo with your arms crossed. He backed up, hands raised in surrender.

"Whaddya mean, I'm— Ouch!"

The conman couldn't help the yelp he let out when his back made contact with the wall, wincing painfully as his wound hit the hard surface. You raised a brow, unimpressed.

"Shirt off, Sampo Koski. Now."

"Woah, woah, at least take me to dinner first!"

Your glare worsened into something stormy as you pointed at the chair nearby.

"Sit down, shirt off, now. Don't make me repeat myself again."

With the face of a wounded puppy, Sampo slunk over to the chair, doing as you asked. He hissed through his teeth as the cloth of his outerwear dragged against the wound, the layers giving way to a deep trio of gashes on the skin of his back. Even with all your medical training, you found yourself cringing at the sight.

"So, Doc, what's the prognosis?" the man laughed weakly, still trying with his jokes even through his pain.

When you remained quiet, his smile fell, and he turned to look at you. If it were anyone else, you might've mistaken that frown for concern.

"Y/N? You... okay?"

"Be quiet," you huffed out at last, grabbing your rolling table of medical supplies and bringing it around, pulling out a chair as you began to inspect the wounds. "What was it this time?"

"Ah, you know, same old, same old! Just some disgruntled robots, not too keen on letting me make a profit with their buddy's parts!"

"You're an idiot."

The usual Sampo would've shot back with some witty or flirty one-liner that was sure to earn him a smack over the head, but when he heard the slight tremble to your voice, he decided it'd be best to keep his mouth shut for now.

"This'll sting. Don't shout, or you'll wake the other patients."

He bit his lip, expecting a harsh serving of antiseptic, but your hands were... gentler this time. You tenderly cleaned the wound with a water-soaked cloth, and though it did sting a bit, it was far nicer than your usual tough treatments from the ire he earned getting injured all the time.

Soon after, he felt you gently patting the wound down with a soft towel, bandages following soon after that you reached around his torso to wrap around him.

Then, you reached for the pack of painkillers.

Sampo was quick to laugh nervously, pushing the pack away when you held it out to him along with a glass of water.

"Hey, hey! Thanks, Y/N, but I really shouldn't be using Miss Natasha's painkillers. Besides, with how sweetly and tenderly you just patched me up, I'm feeling better already!" he fake-swooned, clasping his hands together like a maiden in love to ham up his act.

You were far from impressed.

"You're a bad liar, Sampo Koski," you scoffed, shoving the water and pills past his defensive hands. "Take it. I can't convince you to stay here and actually rest for a change, so it's the least you can do."

When he still looked apprehensive, you swallowed your pride, lowering your gaze and averting your eyes as your face went just the tiniest bit pink.

"...For me."

Sampo honestly thought he misheard you for a moment, but he finally, hesitantly, took the medicine you offered. You led him over to the door, and he laughed breathlessly, finally giving you another smile as he shrugged his shirt and coat back on.

"All right, all right. I'll get out of your hair, and take these. Just for you."

The conman cackled and ran all the way down the alleyways as you shouted after him, fist raised. Once he had disappeared, though, you let it fall to your side, sighing again.

This time, there was a hint of fondness... but that was something else you would be remiss to admit to.

#honkai #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #sampo koski #jing yuan #jingyuan #sampo #gepard #gepard landau #gepard x reader #sampo x reader #jing yuan x reader #jingyuan x reader

[astarionslittlejuicebox]

The Promise of Eternity (Part 10)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: The reader helped Astarion ascend and became his spawn. After saving the world from the Elder brain and it’s destruction, the reader and Astarion set out to take on the world together. While he promised to never forget the gifts the reader has given him, Astarion has seemed to have changed his attitude towards the reader in the last century…. After someone breaks one of  Astarion’s rules, how will this affect the reader’s fate?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: potential for minor spoilers, suggestive themes, language, mentions of death, mentions of blood, abusive relationship, mention of slavery

Word Count: 1881

Imagine Series

Side Notes: 

This imagine series takes place 200 years after the events of Baldur’s Gate 3.  Everything you read in here is a story from my mind outside of the original BG3 character Astarion.

In this imagine series, Astarion is a bit more unemotionally unavailable, and this series will follow the decisions and consequences of that change. This is not canonically accepted and it is just an idea I’ve had in my head! (I do believe Astarion might truly care for the reader after Ascension, but that is open to individual interpretation.)

In this series, TAV is mildly based on my first character I played in BG3; she is a drow and I will make references to her in her background and knowledge as well. I do apologize that it is not 100% your own imagine, but the name for TAV is up to you as well as anything else that I can think of leaving to you, the reader, to decide.

I appreciate everyone who reads the imagines and this series, and I hope you enjoy the story!

TAV POV

I didn’t drop the comfort of the invisibility spell until I was in the comfort and seclusion of the rock cave. After setting the backpack and satchel carefully on the slate gray rock floor, I took a few minutes to cast Leomund’s tiny hut to make the small cave a bit more comfortable in the cooler evening hours of the autumn season. I lit most of the candles in the cave and proceeded to set out all the supplies from my satchel and backpack. As I grabbed the vial of blood from the satchel, I felt a familiar hunger pain start in the pit of my stomach, and I mentally cursed as I had been so occupied all day and had forgotten to feed. Taking a focusing breath, I finished setting up the alchemy kit to test the contents of both flasks I had poured from the chef’s wine bottles. Pouring the liquid from the first flask into the testing tube, the amber light flickering from the burning candles gave away to my keen drow eyes that the liquid has a slight shimmer to it.

Be always weary of the surface dwellers, and even those that reside in the Underdark with us. You never know if you were to run into a fae, but you’ll know by the shimmering dust those mischievous creatures leave behind. Mother’s tough-love lessons found their way into my thoughts once more as I proceeded to test the liquid in various ways. After running a series of tests on the liquid, my eyes widened as I came to a stunning conclusion: the wine was mixed with dust from a fae, and a single drop of blood from Astarion. Further testing revealed that the wine could enable the fae creature to easily charm whoever’s blood was mixed into the wine.

Clever. I thought. Make a wine to charm a usually hard to charm elf. If I had been living in the Underdark, the effort to charm the ascended vampire might have been commended, but I was far more upset about it at the current moment. Luckily for Astarion I was  trained when I was a young drow to make antidotes for such things, so I set to work making a specific antidote to the charming wine. Fortunately for me, I was able to make one charm antidote from a single drop of blood in the half-full vial; however, it did take me a few hours to correctly make it. Once it was complete, I glanced outside the cave entrance to find the moon rising slowly in the dark black sky before it disappeared behind several clouds. I sighed heavily as I begun to test the contents of the second flask. The tiefling had mentioned that it was to be a more potent and longer lasting charming potion, but as I tested and studied the second flask, I made a grave discovery: the second bottle was not a charming potion but a potent poison.

He doesn’t want to use the vampire for nefarious means, he wants to avenge his daughter. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I hurried to pack up the antidote for the charming wine and all of my evidence against the traitors living in the castle. Astarion was in terrible danger, and I had to protect him. 

My unfortunate victory on the discovery was undermined, however, by the familiar ache of my fangs wanting to sink themselves into a vein. I groaned as I regretted not sneaking something for me to feed on before coming down to my hole. Ignoring the growing hunger pains, I packed my satchel with all of my evidence against the tiefling and the chef then left the cave. Checking to make sure the coast was clear, I snuck my way back up to the castle’s back door.

“Wiap (fly).” I whispered as I touched my shoulder. I felt light as a feather as my feet hovered off of the ground. I held my breath as I quietly flew up to the balcony outside of Astarion’s bedchambers. Peering through a window offset of the balcony, I noticed the tension in the shoulders of the vampire lord as he listened to the tiefling say something to him.

“Leave me. I shall seek you when I need you.” He angrily said to her as he turned away from her, but he missed the eye roll she gave him before turning on her heels and exiting the room. Those sharp crimson eyes didn’t notice me as he stepped onto the balcony and into the cool autumn night.

Astarion POV

“What have I done? Why did she leave me?” I let out in a somber voice to the night sky. Zeyis had just informed me that it appeared (TAV’s name) had abandoned the castle—abandoned me—and I felt as if my heart weighed heavy like a ton of bricks in my chest.

The one person I thought would never leave me has left. I thought to myself.

“I did not abandon you, my love.” (TAV’s name)’s hushed voice came from the darkness beside me. Startled, I turned to peer into the darkness. There, perched on the balcony railing, was the gorgeous drow I had fallen in love with many centuries ago. Her (TAV’s hair color) had small stray hairs that had fallen out of the braid her hair was done in, and her ruby-colored eyes took in my face with a bittersweet expression on her lips. The jade dress she wore was crinkled with how she was sitting, and particles of a fine white substance settled on the stone flooring beneath her feet, which were still missing their shoes. I opened my mouth to ask her what she was up to, but her slender finger pressed to her lips told me to hush. “Hiedra told you I had left the castle, didn’t she?” (TAV’s name) asked in a hushed tone, and I felt confusion spread itself on my face at the mention of the unfamiliar name.

“Zeyis told me you had left.” I replied in the same hushed tone, and I watched her eyes as she, no doubt, studied every emotion passing through my eyes. There was no use in hiding it—the drow could read me like one of her favorite books. I swear to all the stars and gods above that she was the only person in the entire realm who could see the person underneath it all, even if I tried my damnest to hide it from everyone. But the look in her eyes right now, the emotion they held, took me back to every moment that I saw the same look in her eyes: when I saw Sebastian at Cazador’s palace, the first time she heard about the carving of my scars, and every time I spoke about life as Cazador’s slave.

“Come here to me, Astarion. I have something you need to see. I know who stole your blood, but I need you to actually see what I saw.” She held out a delicately small hand to me and waited patiently for me to step towards her. “Before you ask, I fear you will understand why I can’t just tell you.” I laid my hand inside of hers, and she gave me a sorrowful smile before she spoke in Draconic. “Drex ekess wer ir geouir gipren wer irthir si sweekmon ekess kaoj (show to the one willing to receive the knowledge I seek to share).”

As (TAV’s name) spoke the last word, the world around me went black as a heavy sadness and heartbreak overcame me. Zeyis’ mischievous smirk and endless taunts echoed through my head as a multitude of flashes of myself pushing the spectator out of the way or blatantly ignoring the spectator’s words played in front of my eyes. All of the dirty insults the tiefling had ever said to the spectator continued to echo in the background until I could see myself standing in front of the spectator. I recognized the robes I had been wearing the day before, and my face bore an expression of…anger? I heard my words replay in my head, “I need you to find whomever has disgraced me in such a manner, but I do not want the entire castle to know what has transpired. You must conduct your investigation in secrecy.”

Flashes and blurs of a library filled with books and a golden dragonborn giving the spectator three specific books passed in a whirlwind before I felt the spectator’s frustration build within me as the spectator struggled to successfully complete a ritual. In a blur, I felt the familiar shifting of warm sand under the weight of the spectator’s barefeet. Brief moments of sitting in front of a large mirror with a drow staring back at me flashed before me as (TAV’s name)’s voice echoed in my mind, “Now, you need to figure out what she actually is, and how she is managing to control our little star. If you figure that out, we may be able to get him back.”

Next, I watched as a beautiful woman with pointy ears spoke with our chef, Ahriman, while standing in the rain outside of the castle before the woman shapeshifted into Zeyis. I heard Ahriman call her name, Hiedra. The visions of that night swirled and melted into Zeyis walking into a room with the chef before they discussed the creation of a potion using a vial of my blood. I felt my hands dig in a chest with a false bottom as the spectator pulled out a half-full vial of a dark crimson liquid. My nostrils were filled with the scent of a finely aged brandy, rosemary, and bergamot--a scent the spectator knew belonged to me. An empty bottle was filled with a similar liquid before the scenery blended to the spectator hastily packing a bag of some kind, but Ahriman’s voice spoke in the background, “Astarion, you will soon pay for taking my daughter from me, and you will know what it is to have lost everything.” After watching the chef leave, the spectator read the words of a letter written to the chef about his missing daughter, and my name had been mentioned in it. 

Soon the spectator was testing flasks of wine and learned the tiefling was a fae in disguise. I watched as the spectator took her time creating an antidote to the charming wine the chef created, and the shock as the spectator realized the second flask wasn’t a charming potion, but a poison. I felt the familiar sting of hunger overcome my senses before I found the spectator standing in front of me, hoping I would take her hand. With a blink of my eyes, I stared at the woman in front of me who was now avoiding direct eye contact. Her throat moved as she forcefully swallowed as I made the connections to what I had just seen--she was the spectator, and she had shown me what she had seen and felt for the last hundred years along with what she learned in the last couple of days.

For the first time in a century, I could truly see her again, and I felt horrible for all of the shit I had put her through.

#astarion imagine #astarion x reader #baldursgate3 #baldursgate3imagine #ascended astarion #the promise of eternity

[parkersbliss]

Diamonds | K. Brekker

pairing; kaz brekker x female!reader

warnings: cursing, I think that’s it

wc; 2.3K

synopsis: dirtyhands doesn’t need anyone, but he wants you, even if he can’t have you

prompts: 001: “why do you care?” 047: “please just let me in.”

a/n: this went in a very different direction then I planned but I love it??

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

Kaz Brekker was a lot of things.

Emotionally unavailable was one of them.

But you never thought much of it. You didn’t think less of him because of that. Surviving the barrel meant being cold, ruthless, and cunning.

Everyone had to have some dark side to them. It was a given.

But Kaz’s dark side never turned off. He was always in a constant state of brooding, thinking about all the ways the plan could fail or coming up with a new heist.

His brain never shuts off.

You never considered that a bad thing, but everyone has to rest eventually.

But rest wasn’t a word in Kaz’s dictionary. For him, resting meant thinking about other things.

Things that he wanted to forget.

So he busied himself with work, numbers, and other things to push the other thoughts out of his mind. Sometimes they were about Jordie and the harbor, sometimes they were about Rollins or you.

Kaz never wanted to forget you, but he didn’t want to think about you either. About the way, your lips curved up into a smile every time Jesper threw his arm around you. Or the way you throw your head back every time Nina makes a joke, the way you sit patiently with Wylan when he tries to read, the way you train so gracefully with Inej, and the way you make fun of Matthias’ accent.

He wants to push it all out of his mind because he doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t get how he manages to notice every detail about you.

It would cost him eventually, which is why he didn’t think about it. It’s why he tried to busy himself with things that have nothing to do with you.

But sometimes, it doesn’t always work out that way.

It was moments like these where Kaz is in a constant state of don’t fuck up and don’t say anything.

Which never goes in his favor.

The plan was simple, break-in and walk-out. There were three separate sections to the museum, and the event kept everyone pretty busy.

All you had to do was get in, steal a few jewels and then blend in with the crowd for the rest of the night.

It should be easy enough.

You all dress in your best attire, at least, the best attire that wouldn’t slow you down if you have to run. Kaz’s breath hitches in his throat when he sees you. Silky fabric, exposed skin, and all your beauty.

He nods at you as you fall into step behind him.

“You look nice,” You said.

“Thank you. So do you.”

You all find yourself in an ally by the museum as Inej scales the roof for her way in. You know she’s successful when the back entrance pops open, and she leans against the door frame with a satisfied smile on her face; her green dress trails along the floor as you make your way inside.

Bright fluorescent lights illuminate the hallway, and the sound of heels and Kaz’s cane echo down it. Kaz pick locks the three doors with ease, signaling for the groups of you to go in.

Matthias and Nina are responsible for the smaller riches, Inej, Wylan, and Jesper take care of replacing them, and you and Kaz get the big stuff.

The room sparkles with diamonds, almost blinding you. To Kaz, it smells like money. For each piece stolen, the two of you replace it with a cheaper place holder.

By the time anyone noticed, you would be gone.

You grab a ring off a stand, slipping it on and examining it in the light.

Kaz coughs, and you turn to face him.

He holds the most expensive piece in his hand, a diamond necklace.

It’s worth more than a quarter of a million kruge.

“Woah,” you breathe out. The diamonds are arranged in such a way that it sits close to the neck, and looks like small interconnected leaves.

“Wear it,” Kaz said.

“Kaz-”

“You would look… pretty with it,” The last part is barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” You agree, taking the piece from his hands. Your fingers barely brush his gloved ones as you take the necklace, clasping it around your neck.

Then, Kaz steps back. “I think we got most of it.”

You can’t take all of the riches, but you can take enough to make some serious bank. You exit the room, Kaz locking it after, and meet back in the hallway with everyone else. Inej and Nina both drip in equal expenses and gasp when they see your necklace.

“I almost want to keep it,” You said, touching the diamonds.

“It does look stunning on you,” Nina said.

“I’m sure we have enough to keep that piece,” Inej said, gesturing to the jewelry between you all.

“I do not understand the need for stones to prove one’s worth,” Matthias said.

Nina pats his shoulder, “It’s like you Fjerdans and your fur coats.”

"Witch," Matthias mumbled under his breath.

Kaz takes the lead, directing you to the main room. You can hear the sounds of people chattering, classical music floating in the air. You all split into smaller groups, mostly pairs, to avoid detection.

You and Kaz stay towards the center of the room, observing everyone else and waiting till the event ends.

As Kaz’s eyes sweep the ballroom, yours sweep over his face, familiarizing yourself with his features.

He has sharp cheekbones, fair skin, and a pointed nose. His lips are drawn down into the softest frown, and there are bags under his dark eyes. His eyebrow twitches ever so slightly whenever he sees someone he doesn’t like, and he runs a gloved hand through his hair, slicking it back more if it’s possible.

He was beautiful.

After a few more moments of mingling, they prepare to bring the jewelry out on display. You and Kaz back towards the exit, just in case something goes wrong.

The fake one sparkles just the same, and a clear difference can’t be seen. It’s only glass that Wylan had managed to craft by himself.

The servant gulps, taking careful steps with the case in his hand. His hands shake, and as he takes the first step up the stairs, he stumbles.

It shatters.

The glass scatters across the floor, the fake necklace you planted aside does the same, the pieces landing everywhere.

You can practically feel Kaz tense next to you when the crowd gasps; actual diamonds wouldn’t break.

“Don’t move,” Kaz whispers. He makes a hand gesture to the rest of the Dregs around the room that means remain still. “Act just as surprised.”

On any other occasion, it would be easy, but when the original necklace is dangling from your neck, it’s like an open target for anyone with eyes. Murmurs flow through the crowd, but no one pays any mind to the Dregs because you all look like you belong here. They’re looking for the black sheep among the white.

But they all look just the same.

“We will be conducting manual searches,” The guards announce.

“Saints,” You whisper, hand instinctively grabbing the diamonds on your neck.

“Plan B,” Kaz said. He meets Jesper’s eyes across the room, nodding his head, and Jesper smirks. He grabs one of his revolvers, firing a single shot and tucking it away before anyone notices. The crowd screams, everyone rushing to the exits as more shots are fired from various parties (some from Jesper, some from guards, or others who just love chaos).

You all make a run for it, using the main exit where guards were desperately trying to keep everyone in.

You watch Inej slip through with ease, Nina and Mattias next. Jesper gets held up, but he managed to talk his way out of it as Wylan tugs on his sleeve.

You and Kaz are last, taking your time to avoid being pushed in by the crowd. You could run ahead, get out before Kaz, but you don’t.

You stay by his side and maintain the slow pace, even when there’s a quarter of a million kruge hanging from your neck.

As you approach the exit, you’re one foot out when someone grabs your arm.

“I got her!” The guard shouts. He starts dragging you back inside as you try to dig your heel into their foot.

Then, in the span of a second, a cane comes down on his arm, a clear snap ringing out.

You stumble from their grasp, unknowingly using Kaz’s shoulder to steady yourself. He hisses but says nothing more because as soon as you notice, you let go.

“Nina!” You scream as the guards come pouring out the entrance.

It was clear who the target was.

The heartrender holds up her hands, effectively dropping their beat, but you underestimate how many there are.

“Run!” Jesper shouts.

And you do as you’re told. The guards open fire, and you bunch your dress in your hands, running through the streets of Ketterdam. Kaz begins to fall behind, and you slow down your pace.

“Jes, throw me a revolver!”

“What?”

“Throw it!”

Wylan rolls his eyes, fishing the gun from his boyfriend’s pocket and tossing it at you.

“What are you doing?” Kaz said.

“Saving your ass!” You reply.

“I don’t need your saving!” Kaz retorts, glaring at you.

You roll your eyes, “Fine, I’m covering you.”

“I don’t need that either.”

“Kaz-”

“I don’t need you!”

You nod, turning away from him to hide the hurt on your face. “No, of course, you don't."

You fire a single shot at a guard, busying yourself in taking a few out, so Kaz doesn’t get hit. When he’s a good way ahead, you sprint after the rest of the Dregs. You see the tail of Jesper’s coat disappear down an alleyway.

You fire one last round of shots and duck behind it. You move past Kaz, catching up with Jesper and thanking him.

He smiles, bumping your shoulder. “Anything for the lady.”

The slat is in sight, and you sigh in relief, happy to rest and unload all the jewels everyone is dripping in.

You could only imagine the amount of kruge you’d come up with.

Jesper opens the door for the Dregs, and you all practically collapse on the couch. You Nina and Inej are all on one, kicking off your heels.

“I hate heels,” You said.

“You’re telling me,” Inej replied. “Never again.”

Nina shrugs, “Annoying as hell, but they do work in place of a knife every now and then.”

“I am never without my knives.”

“We know.”

Kaz walks past you all, limping a bit worse than usual and going up to his office.

You don’t bother following after him. Instead, you all dump the jewelry on the table.

“Oh, saints,” Inej gasped.

Jesper leans back in his seat, “I think we’re set.”

“You’ll gamble it all away before we even cash it in,” Matthias said as Jesper scoffed.

“It’ll take me at least a few months to lose that.”

“Months?” Wylan asked.

“Like six tops.”

Everyone begins to argue, and you tune them out. You forgot about the most expensive piece hanging from your neck, absentmindedly playing with it. When you remember, you figure the best thing to do with it is give it up to Kaz.

With a sigh, you stand up, the fabric of your dress falling back into place.

You don’t bother knocking on his door, you know you should, but you didn’t care all that much.

“Here’s your necklace,” You said bitterly, dropping it on his desk.

“(Y/N)-”

“A quarter of a million kruge, enough to set you for life. That’s all you need, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Sure felt like it,” You snap.

“I just-,” Kaz sighed, avoiding your gaze. “Keep the necklace.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You don’t?” Kaz asked, eyebrows raised. “I thought you liked it. You should have it if that’s the case.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

You click your tongue, “Keep the fucking necklace, Kaz.”

Kaz curses himself, tugging at his hair. He was making the situation much worse. He didn’t know what to say that wouldn't piss you off. He thought the necklace would be like a peace offering, a sign of his thanks.

It backfired on him.

He’s bordering the line of being cold or grateful. When grateful didn’t work in his favor, he went for the other.

“I want you to have it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Please, take it.”

“It’s worth money. That’s far more important to both of us.”

Kaz shuts his eyes, “(Y/N), please.”

And you know this isn't about the necklace anymore. It never really was.

You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. You were tired of pretending to brush off your feelings. It was killing you. Every time you tried to do something, Kaz pushed you back. You couldn't keep doing this to yourself.

“You either want this, or you don’t. Which one is it?”

“Please,” he said softly.

You sigh, blinking harshly. Your heart hammers in your chest. You take a breath, trying to calm yourself.

“Kaz, I need you,” You said softly, “Please just let me in.”

“I can’t,” He said, voice strained as he fights his demons. God, he wants to, but he's scared. He's scared of pushing you away or hurting either of you in the process. He couldn't go through that kind of loss again.

“I will wait,” You said. “I will wait as long as you need. I just need to know that you’re in this too.”

Kaz meets your eyes. His are glassy as he holds the necklace tightly in his hands, running his gloved fingers over the diamonds.

He could lose you.

And that is far worse than not having you at all.

He slowly peels his gloves off. His movements are slow and deliberate, taking his time. When they’re off, he grabs the necklace and stands up.

You hold your breath as he stands behind you, brushing your hair out of the way. His fingers just barely dance across your skin, but they’re there.

He clasps the necklace, and you turn around to face him.

“Kaz?” You question.

“I need you too, (Y/N).”

“I’m not leaving," You assure him.

“Good. We’re in this.”

“We’re in this.”

#IM OBSESSED WITH HIM #I love kaz #I am speedrunning this requests #hehe #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker one shot #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker #grishaverse #six of crows imagine #six of crows #soc #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone #s&b

[donutloverxo]

Good little wife

Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .

Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 8k

“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”

You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.

Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.

You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.

“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”

“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.

“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.

You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.

But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.

After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.

All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.

You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.

Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.

“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.

You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...

But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.

Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”

“I will,” Andy smiled.

You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.

“I do,” since you had no other choice.

“I do,” he repeated.

You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.

The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.

Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.

Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.

You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.

And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.

You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.

Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.

You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.

With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”

“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.

“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”

“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.

“What?”

“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”

“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.”

“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.

You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.

He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.

“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.

“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”

You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”

“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.

“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you frowned.

He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”

You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...

“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.

“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?

He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.

You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.

No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice

“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.

Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.

And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.

For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.

You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.

But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.

You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.

With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.

So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.

After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.

Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.

Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.

You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.

“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.

He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.

“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.

“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.

He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.

He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.

But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.

“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”

“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.

Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?

“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.

“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.

He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.

You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.

While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.

Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...

And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...

“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.

“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.

You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”

“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.

Something was horribly wrong.

Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.

He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.

He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.

Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was

It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.

He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.

“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.

Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.

But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.

He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.

You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”

“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.

“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”

You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”

He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”

“What difference does it make?” you huffed.

“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.

“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”

“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.

“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.

“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”

He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.

“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”

You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”

He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.

While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.

You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.

He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.

He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.

Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.

He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”

“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.

“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.

And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.

“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.

“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.

You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”

“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.

You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.

You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.

He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.

“You like it, honey?” he asked.

You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”

Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”

“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him

He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.

“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.

“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.

“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”

“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.

He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.

“Mmm... I can’t tell...”

“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.

You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.

You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.

Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”

“What?”

“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.

“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.

“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.

He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.

You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.

“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.

You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.

“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.

His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.

He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.

One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.

“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”

You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.

“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.

He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.

He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.

“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”

You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.

“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.

Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.

You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”

It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.

“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.

“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”

“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.

He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

“No...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.

You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.

His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.

Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.

You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.

You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.

“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.

He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.

“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”

He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.

“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”

“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.

He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.

You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.

Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.

Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.

He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”

Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.

You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.

He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered.

“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.

“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.

You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”

He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”

You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.

“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.

You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.

“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”

He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”

“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.

“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.

“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.

He’d make you take it.

You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”

You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”

“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”

You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”

“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”

“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.

You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.

“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.

“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”

You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.

“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”

All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.

He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.

But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.

Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.

You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.

“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”

You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”

His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...

“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.

“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.

“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.

“I love you,” you beamed up at him.

“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”

He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.

He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.

His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.

Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.

“It hurts!” you screamed.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.

“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,

A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.

Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.

You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”

“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”

You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.

“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”

You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.

He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”

You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.

“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.

“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.

“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...

“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”

You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.

Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.

“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.

He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”

He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.

He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.

“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.

“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.

You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.

“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”

“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”

“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.

You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.

You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.

His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.

His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

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[goatchulu]

jealous! lucifer x gender neutral! reader

Genre: fluff, ig? slight smut in the end.

Fandom: obey me!

Prompt: you find yourself in a fake relationship, and now you're introducing your "boyfriend" to the demom brothers. they don't take it so well, especially lucifer.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of harassment and stalking, they make out in the end, reader's gender is unmentioned for your imagination (and inclusion).

lucifer takes another swig of his whisky, a slight burning sensation lingering on his throat. no matter the amount of alcohol he consumed that night, he couldn't escape the bitter feeling that was left inside his chest.

the two of you have been hitting it off pretty well for the past few weeks, if he could say so himself. the harmless complimenting and the subtle glancing had turned into ardent flirting and shows of affection overtime. you two were finally going somewhere with your mutual pinning, or so he thought.

lucifer didn't think his small (not so small) crush on you would lead anywhere, really. nor did he think you would reciprocate his infatuation. but with all the friendly interactions you had of late, anyone would assume you two were together in a romantic light.

now look, lucifer prides himself as a person. he was assertive, efficient, productive, level-headed and the voice of reason when stress is most prominent. but as a lover? lucifer wasn't so sure. he assumed you'd like someone more jolly and eccentric like mammon or someone more confident and charismatic like asmodeus. he didn't expect for you to even spare him a second glance when it came to the dating game. lucifer was a busy man after all, and he wasn't the most expressive when it came to emotions; not very ideal for a lover.

but what lucifer also did not expect was for you to bring home a common demon boy and introduce him as your significant other.

let's just say that all the built up tension and courting were all ruined by a single dinner party.

you had gathered all the demon brothers earlier that morning, claiming you had an important announcement to make. you went as far as inviting diavolo and his loyal butler, barbatos, to spend the evening over for dinner. they thanked you for the invitation, but they unfortunately, could not attend because of their hectic schedules.

lucifer, on the other hand, was more than happy to accept your invitation (though he was quick to cover up the smile he held when you came up to him). seeing as he already lives under the same roof as you, anways. his happiness would soon be diminished and grinded into dirty, pathetic, dust, though.

lucifer's eyes narrow as mammon's loud laughter bounces off the walls of the dining room. lucienne, your "boyfriend", had managed to crack the demon up with one of his silly stories about a strange elderly wizard that sold expensive medication made out of fairy wings that turned out to just be bedazzled dragon fly wings. he worked wonders with the avatar of greed, considering the fact that just a moment ago, mammon was cursing in jealousy and resentment as you sat with your newly introduced boyfriend.

luficer would've told mammon to shut up, but he feared saying something far more vulgar out of anger. the previous tension was already eased into a more domesticated athmosphere (credits to lucienne's charm and humor), lucifer didn't want to ruin dinner for his brothers, and especially not for you.

i mean, lucifer felt betrayed, he felt used and-- and played. how could you lead him on like this? but deep inside, he knew there was something else. he felt disappointed, he felt defeated, he felt crushed, he wished he'd done something sooner before this lucienne stole you away from him.

but anyways, back to the dinner party.

"you seem unusually quiet, lucy." asmo teases from across lucifer's seat. the phrase seems to capture everyone's attention, all eyes now on the grimacing and glaring lucifer.

"asmo's right, you haven't uttered a word since lucienne arrived, lucifer. is something wrong?" you chime in, causing lucifer to perk up. the thought of you worrying about his state sent sparks into his heart, but they were quick to disappear when lucienne asks him the same question.

"i'm fine." he replies to your concern, unable to hide the venom that strung on to his words. this only causes asmodeus to snicker, and leviathan to sink deeper into his seat. everyone else watches in concern as lucifer downs another glass of demom whiskey. you're about to ask him again, unsure about his reply, but he stops you before you could even form a word.

"i said i'm fine."

the air is tense, until eventually, mammon gasps out of nowhere. "don't tell me! lucifer is jealous!!~" he repeats in a sing song manner, only irking lucifer even further. no one else speaks up, the whole situation akward enough.

after a while, though, lucienne speaks up. he gestures at mammon, especially. hoping to stop the demon from escalating the situation. "hey mammon, wanna hear about that one time i accidentally professed my love for my eight grade math teacher?" mammon only settles back into his seat, ready for another laughing fit. the avatar of pride snaps at this, slamming his fists down the table before abruptly excusing himself with a "i have something to do."

he spares you one last glance. his heart aching with guilt from the way you had lowered your head in shame. lucifer didn't want to make you feel like he owned you, or that you weren't allowed to be with someone else... he just, he has enough reason to justify his anger right now and he really wants to dwell in it. he turns his head away from you, biting his lip to contain the guilt and pain that was threatening to seep out. he doesn't turn to look back as he walks away from the dining room in long and rushed strides.

lucifer walks down the dark hallways of lamentation, familiar with every nook and cranny the mansion had. he sighs in relief as his palm reaches out for a familiar door. it creaks as lucifer walks into his room, sounding just as glum as lucifer is.

he heads straight to his paperwork, silently hoping that they would provide him some sort of comfort. he tries to focus on anything but the thought of you or your unavailability, his mind barely processing any of the words that were printed out in front of him. he groans, his hands pulling on his jet black hair in frustration.

i mean, he should've expected this. lucienne was everything lucifer thought you would love. funny outgoing, caring, expressive, charismatic, a smooth talker and he looked at you with utmost respect and admiration. i mean, who in their right mind would choose old-schooled lucifer over the flawless lucienne?

you deserve lucienne and although lucifer thinks that no one in the three realms could ever deserve to call you theirs, he still thinks that lucienne is more deserving of you than lucifer could ever be. what were you doing to the poor demon? he was never one to admit defeat like this, and he especially wasn't the type of person that'd lower themself like this.

his rollercoaster of thoughts are interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. his ears already familiar with this particular knocking pattern. he can't help but straighten himself up, suddenly aware of the way his hair is all sprawled out. he slicks it down with saliva, muttering a small "enter" soon after he finshes checking on his appearance.

his mood lightens just a little bit at the sight of your face. as much as lucifer wants to hate you right now, he couldn't possibly feel that way towards you. never, not in a quadrillion light years.

you sit down in front of him, a genuine look of concern on your face. this makes lucifer visibly frown, catching you a bit off guard. "i wanted to talk to you about something, lucifer." his eyes grow curious and a bit hopeful, wishing it were about something that would distract him from the current situation or give him even the tiniest bit of closure.

"it's about lucienne." and once again, you manage to crush all his hope with only a few words. lucifer swears that if he hears that name one more time, he would personally shove your lovely boyfriend down the deepest depths of the underworld.

you watch his brows furrow and his fist tighten on his quill. lucifer looks far from happy to hear you talk about your significant other right now. "look, i know you'd rather not hear about lucienne again, but it's really really important and i want you to just hear me out. just this once, please?"

lucifer couldn't stand the pleading look you were giving him. your puppy eyes were a weapon that you used on him often, and they always managed to work. a tired sigh leaves his lips, if it meant getting it over with then he'd listen. "fine," he snaps, not before rubbing at his temple in obvious distress. he's said fine, but his body language told you otherwise.

"someone's kind of harassing lucienne at the moment. stalking him, giving him unwanted gifts and constantly professing their love for him when he's told them multiple times that it made him uncomfortable. they're an admirer of some sorts. i'm posing as lucienne's lover in hopes that they'd back off for a while, but i wanted to see if you and diavolo could do some actual help. it's worrisome, really. and it's been stressing lucienne out for the past couple of weeks. pretending to be his significant other is the most i can do for him, i hope you understand."

lucifer only freezes in shock, guilt washing over him all so suddenly. you call out for him, effectively snapping him out of his short daze. of course you'd offer to help lucienne out, you've always been a kind person. in lucifer's eyes, atleast. he coughs into his hand, avoiding eye contact with you as he degrades himself for his previous selfishness.

"of course, i'll do my best to make sure this harasser is punished. the school and i will ensure that lucienne won't be seeing this stalker anytime soon. just keep supporting him like this, i suppose. tell him he can sleep here for the night. thank you for informing me about this." you smile at lucifer's response, relief overwhelming your senses. if this meant that lucienne was finally going to be safe and unbothered, you were overjoyed.

you jump at lucifer, thanking him, all the while, squeezing the life out of him. his heart races impossibly fast at the gesture, and you can't help but smirk at the red that tainted his cheeks. "just so you know, i still like you. and only you, lucy."

his breath comes to a halt. he was no longer able to contain the butterflies that crowded his stomach; shock and well, pure bliss apparent on his face. "does this mean i can kiss you?"

"do anything as you please."

lucifer lunges at you. capturing your lips into a hungry and impatient kiss. his hands roam all over your torso, looking for anything he could hold onto. he settles for your waist and you drape your hands over his shoulders. heaven knows how long he's been waiting for this moment.

he manages to stumble through his room, leading you two to his bed. you part as he pushes you down to sit at the end of his king sized bed. he grins at the sight of you, disheveled and thirsty for more. the avatar of pride couldn't help but be excited for the faces you'll make in the unholy endeavors he's planning for you. he'll devour you, tear apart every innocent limb you have in your body. his imagination runs wild as he thinks of the many ways he'd mark you as his, exhibit you to the world and spread you wide open for his contenders to see. for them to know just how pathetic and needy lucifer could make you in an instant.

he bends down to kiss you again, pushing against your tounge with his own. he squeezes your thighs, digging his nails deep into the skin under the cloth still covering you. groans and grunts leave your lips as he countinues to caress your plush thighs.

as you two part, panting, a newfound possessiveness overtakes lucifer's eyes.

"you're mine."

#lucifer x reader #lucifer x gender neutral reader #obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x mc #lucifer x mc #jealousy #jealous lucifer #obey me fanfic #obey me #om! shall we date #om! lucifer #original character #om! mammon #om! fanfic #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #gender neautral reader #lucifer x gn reader #gn reader #gn!reader #gn!mc

[agustdakasuga]

Reflection Of You | Chapter 1

Genre: Historical!AU, Timetraveller!AU / Different Dimension, Romance

Pairing: SUGA x Reader, Yoongi x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Idol!Suga, King!Yoongi, Guard!Seokjin, Guard!Jungkook, RoyalAdvisor!Namjoon, Servant!Jimin, Servant!Hoseok, Prince!Taehyung

Summary: Confirming you were dating the famous Min Suga of BTS, you knew you were bound to make some enemies. But what you didn’t expect was to be cursed, going back to meet a cold-hearted, arrogant king that shares the same face as your rapper lover.  

The nightmare the both of you feared had finally come true. 

“Thank you, ARMY!”

“We’ll see you soon!” 

“We love you forever! Goodnight!” You watched the monitor with proud eyes, your hands clasped together. After a long world tour, the boys had their final concert in Korea, their home country. You, along with the other staff, clapped as the 7 boys stepped off the stage.

“Good job!” There were exchanges of hugs and pats on the backs. Technically, you weren’t a member of staff, so you respected the distance, standing at the back of the crowd.

“There you are.” Someone said, almost like a sigh of relief. 

“Great job, as always.” A smile slowly widened on your face as you opened your arms to hug him, resting your cheek against his peck. 

“I’m sweaty.” Was all he said. 

“Like I ever minded.” You chuckled, pulling away to look up at him. He gave a soft smile, leaning down to peck your lips. It was quick but endearing. You knew for him, doing that in public was already a large feat. 

“Noona! You’re here!” You were yanked out of your beloved’s arms. 

“Of course, Kookie. It’s the last show of the tour, I wouldn’t miss it.” You patted his head as he lifted you off the ground.

“Yah, look at the scowl on hyung’s face after you stole his girl.” Taehyung appeared, slinging his arm around your maknae’s neck. You giggled, shaking your head. Someone stood beside you, holding your hand. Speak of the devil. You turned your head to see him looking at his phone in his other hand, totally nonchalant about holding your phone. 

“Great show today, guys. You were amazing.” You told all 7 of them as they packed up, ready to head home. 

“Thank you, (y/n).” Jin pinched your cheek lovingly. 

“As much as I love spending time with ARMY, I’m excited to have some time off, as well.” Jimin yawned, adjusting his hat in the mirror. You nodded in agreement. The boys deserved a nice break. 

“The vans are here.” The managers informed. 

“Let’s go, aegi.” He called. You walked hand in hand with him. Before you stepped out, he stopped you. 

“You forgot again?” He chuckled, taking a mask out of his pocket. He gently hooked the elastics over your ears, adjusting the fabric on your face to make sure that it was comfortable. 

“Thank you.” You said sheepishly. 

“Hurry, love birds!” Hoseok called out, being the one to share the van with the two of you. Even if you were all boarding the van privately, you were still cautious, wearing a mask when you went out in case any fan manages to slip past security and saw you.

“We’ll sit at the back.” You were yanked into the seat, making you blink in shock. You felt your lover’s headrest against your shoulder.

“Any plans for the break, Hobi?” You asked. 

“Hmm, besides going home? I would like to travel but I don’t really have a destination in mind. What about you? Are you and hyung going to do something?” He asked back. 

“He’s visiting his family. Unfortunately, I have work but I’ll try to join him for a few days. After that, we might take a few days off to travel too.” You smiled. 

“Must be nice to travel with a companion.” Hoseok teased. 

“Not when your companion just wants to sleep and eat all day.” You giggled. There was a grunt of annoyance from beside you. 

“Hey, you sleep just as much as me. We hardly stepped out of our hotel room the last vacation because all we did was sleep then nap all day. Besides, I deserve to sleep and eat all day for how hard I’ve worked.” He scoffed. You nodded your head, you couldn’t argue with that after all the hard work the boys have put into the tour. 

“Touché.” You booped his nose. 

“Still hard to believe hyung is the first one to get a girl. We all thought he was too much a gramps to get one.” Hoseok laughed. 

“That’s part of his charm, I guess.” You smiled. Looking down, you saw that said male had fallen asleep against your shoulder. A slight frown was on his face as he crossed his arms. 

When the car stopped in the gated apartment complex, the 3 of you were dropped off at the front of the dorm building. 

“Hobi-”

“I know, I know. You won’t be spending the night in the dorm. Goodnight, you two.” Hoseok waved you two off. You giggled and gave him a hug before parting ways from him. 

“I can’t wait to just spend the next few days in bed.” 

“When are you going back to Daegu?” 

“Next week. What, can’t wait to get rid of me already?” He teased. You scoffed, entering the lift together and tapping the resident card, pressing the lift button. 

“If I wanted to get rid of you, I could just return to my place.” You shook your head. 

“As if I’d let you.” He said from behind you. Pressing the code into the keypad on the door, you pressed your finger print and the door unlocked. The two of you shuffled into the big apartment. You turned the lights on and placed your bag on the couch. The first thing you did was put away the washed dishes from your breakfast this morning. 

“You can do that tomorrow.” His voice groaned. 

“It’ll take less than a minute. Go ahead and shower.” You chuckled. Once again, you were yanked away from the cupboard. He rested his chin on your shoulder, arms loosely looped around your waist. 

“What’s wrong?” You whispered, stroking the back of his head. 

“Is it too early for post concert blues?” 

“You are such a workaholic. You’ll be on stage again soon. Besides, ARMY wouldn’t want to see all of you so tired out. They would want you to rest well and have a break too.” You comforted. 

“When I’m with them, I just feel like I have the whole world.” 

“ARMY is lucky to have all of you. You’re their world just as much as they are yours.” You smiled. 

“You’re forgetting something. ARMY gives me the whole world. But right now, I know I am holding my whole world.” He placed a gentle kiss against your temple. 

“Cheeseball.” You shook your head with a laugh. You shooed him away to shower while you finished the chores for the night like folding the washed clothes, filling the coffee machine for tomorrow and arranging the few fan gifts from ARMY around the house. 

“I’m done.” He called from the bedroom. You entered, seeing him pull a plain white shirt over his head. He rubbed his wet hair with a towel. 

“I’ll go shower.” You said, picking some fresh clothes and bringing it to the bathroom. You were quick with your shower, blowing drying your hair afterwards so you wouldn’t have to wait for it to dry. 

“Hurry, I want to sleep.” 

“You don’t have to wait for me!” You replied. 

“No.” 

“Alright, alright.” You shook your head, hanging your towel back on the rack to dry. You closed the bathroom door, slipping under the covers. Immediately, you were drawn into a warm embrace. 

“Don’t wake me up tomorrow.” He mumbled, eyes closing. 

“Wouldn’t dare to.” You joked. He opened one eye to glare at you while you smiled innocently at him. He yawned, tucking his head into the crook of your neck comfortably. 

“Goodnight, aegi.” He placed a kiss against your skin.

“Goodnight, Yoon.” You replied. 

You’ve known Yoongi for years now. When you worked at a music store near BTS’ old dorm when they had just debuted. He would come at night, just before closing to browse the shelves. Even if you came to know the whole group through Yoongi, you and Yoongi connected on a whole new level, you understood each other through music. 

It was about 2 years ago that he had asked you out on a date. Of course, you were unsure, considering how popular he was and you didn’t want to burden him by keeping your relationship a secret. 

But you trusted Yoongi. When he told you he would protect you, you gave him a chance. And you’ve been happily together ever since. 

It scared you when Yoongi threatened to leave BigHit when the management found out about you. You told Yoongi that you wanted him to prioritise BTS and ARMY before your relationship together. That was your only condition. 

“Why?” 

“Because ARMY and BTS were there for you before I was. You need to be there for them just like how they are there for you.” You told him. 

With that, the management and Mr Bang approved of your relationship. They also appreciated how you made Yoongi happier and were a positive influence when he had his low times. 

It was around 4 am. You woke up, feeling the space beside you still empty. The sheets felt cold, meaning that Yoongi hadn’t returned. You sent a message to Jungkook, who you knew would still be awake since he was working on releasing a surprise song cover for ARMY. 

“Yoongi hyung? He hasn’t returned.” The youngest informed. 

“Thanks, Kookie.” You hung up. You respected Yoongi and his work, never wanting to interrupt him or stop him but you knew you had to step in at certain times. 

‘The number you have dialled is currently unavailable-’

You sighed as you were directed to voicemail again. Putting your shoes on, you left home to visit his studio. 

DING DONG

You pressed the doorbell, waiting for an answer but to no avail. Even if you knew the code, you wouldn’t just enter. Just like everyone else, you would always ring the doorbell first and wait for a reply. You pressed it again.

“Who is- Oh, it’s you.” Yoongi poked his head out. 

“Hey.” You greeted. 

“What are you doing here? I’m busy.” Yoongi said. It came out colder than he would have liked but after working for hours and not getting the results he wanted, he was getting frustrated. 

“I know. Just wanted to see how you were doing. Can I come in?” You asked. Yoongi looked back into his studio. 

“I’d rather you not. Like I said, I’m busy. I can’t have another person here, it’ll only distract me more.” He said. Yoongi wasn’t someone that dealt with emotions well, you knew that. When things weren’t working out, his defence mode was to just push everyone away and hide alone. That’s just his way of dealing with emotions. 

“I understand.” You nodded, not wanting to push him any further. Without another word, Yoongi just closed the door, retreating back into his studio. 

“Hmm...” You roamed around the lounge area. You smiled as you came across the famous picture of Jimin that Yoongi got as a prize during the photography episode of Run!BTS. 

“Time to go home.” You went back home. Even waiting for Yoongi outside his studio, you knew he would feel guilty later on and you didn’t want that. You laid in bed but was woken up by Yoongi pressing his face into your back.

“Yoon...?” You tried to turn around to face him but his arms held you in place.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, burying his face into your back. You reached over to put your hand over his. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” You said, sleep laced in your voice. You yawned, finally turning around to face him. You cupped his cheek with your free hand. 

“The songs weren’t working out, the lyrics were trash, I just... I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. After you left, I just-” 

“Shh, you don’t have to explain. I understand how frustrating it must have been. Everyone has their own down times. Don’t worry, I’m just glad you’re back to rest. Maybe after a nice sleep, you’ll have a clearer mind to write better, hmm?” You smiled softly. 

“Next time, be angry with me.” 

“Why do you want me to be angry with you? I mean, I have times when work frustrates me too. We aren’t perfect.” You laughed. 

“You’re too nice to me.” He pressed you against his body, inhaling your comforting scent. You loosely wrapped your own arm around his middle, letting out a yawn. 

“Go wash up. I’ll wait for you.” You promised. 

-

Yoongi was usually an early riser but after the concert last night, he had slept in until the afternoon. When he woke up, he realised that you weren’t beside him. He sat up, running his fingers through his hair as he looked for you. 

‘Fridge empty. Went out to get groceries. Iced Americano is in the fridge. - (y/n)’

Yoongi smiled at your note, folding it and tucking it into his pocket. He never told you but he keeps all the notes you leave him, even for ones that just say, ‘gone to work’. He shuffled to the fridge, taking the glass of cold coffee out, adding ice before sticking a straw in. He sat down by the kitchen island, scrolling on his phone. 

‘BTS’ Suga seen holding hands with mysterious female after concert.’

‘Insider releases photos of BTS’ rapper and a female embracing each other, said to be his girlfriend.’

‘Has the cold, savage rapper finally met his match?’

Yoongi’s eyes widened as he saw the alert news. He felt his heart stop when he clicked on one of the articles. There were blurry photos of you holding hands with him, leaving the venue last night. 

“PD nim.” Yoongi called his boss. 

“It seems a fan had snuck in under the guise of a staff member. We’ll handle the press for now and tell you what to do next.” 

“How can this happen?!” 

“Calm down, Yoongi. We have apprehended the culprit and will be turning her over to the authorities. Just make sure (y/n) is safe. The two of you should stay indoors for now.”

When he hung up, his phone rang again, it was the members. But right now, he couldn’t answer them. He was too worried about where you were and whether you were safe. Quickly, Yoongi dialled your number. Fortunately, you picked up, totally ignorant that your relationship was now public. 

“Good morning, or should I say, good afternoon?” 

“Aegi, are you okay?” He panicked.

“Okay? Of course, I am. Didn’t you see my note? I just finished paying for groceries, about to leave the mart.” 

“Stay right there, aegi. I’m coming to get you. Don’t talk to anyone, alright? I’m coming.” He said as he grabbed his car keys, putting on a mask and a cap.

“Okay, now you’re scaring me. What’s wrong, Yoon?” 

“They found out. I’m so sorry I let this happen. I’ll explain more when I come get you, alright?” He said and hung up. He got into his car, speeding to where you were. You were standing by the mart entrance.

“Yoon.” You sighed in relief, entering the car with all the groceries in your lap. Yoongi sped away, back to the gated community. True to that, as he passed the security, he saw some fans standing at the post, trying to enter. Luckily, fans didn’t know he owned this car and the windows were tinted so he could drive past without anyone suspecting. 

“Let’s go. Hurry.” He grabbed the bags, pulling you with him to the apartment. Only when you reached, you finally stopped him. 

“Yoon, calm down. It’s okay, I’m okay. Now tell me, slowly, what happened?” You led him to the couch to sit down. He buried his hands into his palms while you rubbed his back. 

“Someone snuck in as a staff member last night and took pictures of us. It was in the press this morning.” He explained. 

“Does PD nim know about this?” 

“He said he will handle the press and tell us what we have to do next.” He shivered, his breathing quickening. You knew that was a sign of Yoongi’s anxiety so you pulled him into your embrace immediately. 

“It’ll be okay, Yoongi.” You comforted. 

“Have you spoken to the boys?” You asked softly. He shook his head. As he said that, your phone rang. It was Namjoon. 

“They’re just worried and want to know if you’re okay. Let me tell them that we’re okay.” You told him, answering Namjoon’s call and putting him on speaker. As you predicted, the other boys were on the other line, bombarding the both of you with questions. 

“We’re okay, just a little overwhelmed. Thank you for your concern. We’ll just wait for PD nim’s instructions.” You told them. 

“Do you want us to come over?” 

“Maybe later on but not right now? Just let Yoongi and I grasp the situation and calm down first. If there’s anything, we’ll be sure to keep you all updated.” You promised. 

“We’ll see you later then.”

“I’m so sorry I let this happen, aegi.” Yoongi cried, cupping your cheek and rubbing it with his thumb. 

“Hey, it’s not your fault. We will get through this. I know it’s a little earlier than we would have liked but we knew the risks we were taking by having this relationship, Yoon.” You wiped his tears. 

“You don’t understand, aegi. Those people that could hurt you, they aren’t really ARMY. They’re crazy and obsessed. I’ve seen what they have done to others before. I will never be able to live with myself if I let the same thing happen to you.” He shook his head. You knew what Yoongi was referring to, the ‘sasaeng fans’ that the media always talked about. 

“Let’s not think of the worst.” You hummed. Yoongi’s phone ringing broke your embrace. It was PD nim, along with the PR team. 

“Yes. I understand… I’ll speak to her and let you know. Thank you.” Yoongi said and hung up with a sigh. You tilted your head, hoping they didn’t give Yoongi the ultimatum. 

“They said I either publish a note to the fans, explaining everything. Or let them deny the photos, say that you are just a family member.” He explained. 

“I see...” Those were reasonable options. 

“What do you think is the right thing to do?” You asked Yoongi. 

~~

Series Masterlist

Tag list

@veronawrites @diamonddia-mond @georgie-me-myself-i @nlost21 @skyys-universe @aqueenieme @carolinexkpop @nello-rie @ireallylikeyourwriting @vishakhas-world @imascreamerbabymakemeamute @tinyoonsblog @kimahnjung98 @kimmieloveswho @aianloveseven @mamemimoimoi @bbgniecyy @ggukkieland @awsome-small-k @huhuehuey @yeontanismypresident @strangeobjectmaker @mariana-mmtz @iamsherlocked271 @pb-n-juju @multicolourunicorn @myggummy @samararose21 @zae007live @baby-noodles @yiyi4657 @writingdust  @bt21chim​ @cait-with-luv 

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop series #bts #bts scenarios #bts series #min yoongi #min yoongi scenarios #min yoongi series #yoongi #yoongi scenarios #yoongi series #suga #suga series #suga scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #suga x you #suga x reader #historical!au #king!yoongi #daechwita

[bluecookies02]

Shigaraki x Shy!Reader-NSFW

Summary: your pinning is driving Tomura crazy. Instead of reading it as your admiration for him, he is under the impression that you are disgusted by him.

warnings: tears, eating out, blowjob, embarrassment, deepthroating...

my image was taken down so have this as a replacement ( i had to post this all the ver again bc it got flagged and it had like 400/500 votes 😔)

/masterlist/

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

If you stare at him long enough, maybe he'll develop an ability to read your mind and ask himself out on a date?

Right? Righttt?

"The fuck are you staring at, you creep" he would turn his head away, leaving the bar area and going to his room.

Your head would slam nose first into the table, cursing yourself out under your breath.

"Keep it up and he'll think you've gone mute"

"Good." you mumble, fiddling the edges of the letter from your pocket.

Once you've calmed down you pull the latter out, staring at it.

Maybe you should just burn it to crisps, letters are cliche anyways...

"Want a drink?" Kurogiri mumbles pointing at the shelves behind him.

You nod, making your way to your favorite tequila brand, not even bothering to take salt or lemons, taking the whole bottle to your room.

Kurogiri sighs, cleaning up the countertop of his bar.

His hand freezes over the later you carelessly left.

He knows what it is, you've been crying over it for weeks on end.

He'll deal with your scoldings later.

The letter falls through the portal, softly hitting the keyboard Shigaraki was currently playing on.

Meanwhile, you're sat in your room, the bottle kinda forgotten since your sobs made it too hard to chug the liquid down.

Why do you always fall for the emotionally unavailable boys? Is it a curse?

The knock on your door snaps you out of your self-pity, collecting yourself and wiping your tears away.

"Come in" you mumble, trying to seem uninterested while scrolling through your phone.

"Now tell me, is it yours? Or is someone just fucking with me?"

The yell makes you jump up, your shoulders stiffening.

You look up, just to be met with your angry boss, gripping your letter with four of his fingers.

"Fucking speak, what the fuck is your problem, it's a yes or no question!"

You bit down at your lip, tears threatening to spill again.

You nod your head, taking a deep breath.

"Yes, please leave now."

As your gaze is stuck on the floor underneath his shoes, you notice the small speckles of dirt swaying towards the floor.

You look up at his hand again, your letter now gradually falling apart.

The sting in your chest burns up through your throat, the tears now spilling as your muffle your cries with your duvet, biting on it as hard as you can.

Shigaraki never had any experience with this.

He had never seen a person hurting because of him( well in this way at least ).

He was never the one to comfort someone else.

He didn't know how since he was never treated with kindness himself.

Nonetheless, he made his way to the bed, nudging the fabric away from your face.

You instinctively closed your eyes, afraid that if you see his expression again, you would literally fall apart.

His rough thumb dipped under your chin, the skin of his hand scratching at your soft flesh.

"Did you mean it?"

"Please stop torturing me, just leave, I'll pack my stuff later" you choked out, moving your head out of his grip.

He knew his actions were contradicting his feelings but he knew he was ready to try, for the sake of the only relationship he'll possibly have.

The possibility of anyone but you liking his damaged ass was almost nonexistent.

And if he was honest with himself, he always had a thing for you.

At first, he thought it was just because he found you unbearably hot, your thighs grabbing his attention each time you crossed his path.

But after he had seen you all bruised up and wrecked after fights, he realized he didn't really care how your body looked like.

"I like you too"

Your cries suddenly come to a stop.

"The fuck did you just say?"

"I said I like you too"

Your eyes found his, your brows furrowed as you huffed.

"You could've just told me that before you destroyed my letter and made me cry my soul out" you scoffed, folding your arms to your chest and staring at the wall on the far end of the room.

His face was now incredibly close to yours, the look on his face was unreadable.

When he was in his teenage years, he found himself sleeping around with a couple of lowlifes, the only thought on his mind was getting his dick wet (surprisingly there existed ppl desperate to have sex with anyone and everyone)

Now that he's supposed to actually kiss someone, he's terrified of fucking it up and making a fool of himself.

"Kiss me." he demands, his hand touching your cheek.

It takes you second to drop your "I'm offended act" as you gently place your lips over his.

His other hand carefully rests over your hip, invading your space as he pushes his lips harder against you.

Once things get heated up, you notice the way Tomura's hands shake against the hem of your shirt, his lips still greedily swallowing up every whimper that escapes you.

"We can go as slow as you'd like" you softly push him away, your soft palm rubbing against his cheek.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck as he slowly nods.

"Go ahead." you will him on, as he slowly pulls your shirt over your head.

The way he stares at your exposed skin makes your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

You try to hide your face behind your hands, but your action is interrupted once Tomura's fingers glide past your lips.

You lull your tongue out, making it easier for him to pump the digits down your throat.

His other hand kneads at your exposed flesh, enjoying the way your breath hitches around his fingers each time he glides or pulls onto the sensitive nubs.

His fingers leave your mouth, his tongue replacing them instantly.

His fingers glide down to your chest, playing with the bud between his fingertips, your own drool making them glide smoothly over the sensitive nerves.

You rub your thighs together, your pussy leaking onto your underwear, making them damp.

The material of your panties slides between your folds, adding a bit more friction as you moan into Tomura's mouth.

He stops to drink in the desperate movement of your hips and he grins.

The insecurity he felt a couple of minutes ago dissolved once he noticed your flush expression.

He kicks his shoes off, fully climbing onto your bed.

Your hands grab at his belt, the metal cooling down your heated skin.

You struggle with it as the thumping in your chest makes it hard for you to focus.

Tomura helps you take his pants off completely, kicking them off his feet.

You look up to see him biting his lip as he expectingly stares at you.

You lean down over his clothed bulge, your tongue licking over the small wet spot staining the fabric.

His hands move to clutch at the bedsheets once you

pull the cloth down.

Your pussy drools at the sight of his cock, the veins throbbing each time your breath ghosts over his dick.

You grab ahold of his cock, steading it as you start to slide him into your mouth.

The corners of your mouth burn as you struggle to take the whole length in, battling your gag reflex once you hear him groan out.

The taste of him slowly fades away as your spit coats his cock.

Your mouth experimentally glides up and down a few times, your lips getting used to the stretch.

You swallow around his cock, his hips stuttering up before he apologizes.

The rim of your mouth repeatedly slams against the fingers of your hand that's still clutching at his base.

His hand carefully wraps into your hair, following your movement, his hips instinctively snapping each time your throat contracts around him.

The thrusts of his hips become more violent by the second and you're sure your jaw's gonna hurt after this.

The soft whimpers leaving his lips are the only thing making you fight the urge to slip your mouth off of him.

You dig your nails into his thigh, trying to steady yourself as his pace becomes sloppy and uneven.

"I d-don't-" he growls pushing your head away as his hips push into the air, his cock throbbing as he tries to clear his head.

You stare at him in confusion, gasping for air.

He feels like a simple additional touch could make his cock burst.

The tip of his dick is swollen and red, beads of precum spilling at his head.

"I want to make you cum so bad" he mumbles as he slides on-top of you, pushing your back into the mattress.

Your pants are slowly dissolved as he grabs the hem of it with his fingers, shooting you an apologetic look.

His hands push your thighs apart, revealing your ruined panties.

The low grumble in his throat makes your walls flutter.

Once your underwear is pushed to the side, his tongue is reaching out to collect the liquid into his mouth.

The satisfying groan that vibrates into your pussy makes your cheeks heat up all over again.

His fingertips are carefully dipping into the flesh of your thighs as he pushes your legs to their limit, giving him full access to your cunt.

His licks are slow and timid, his mind focusing on each sound you make.

Once his tongue is buried into your pussy and his nose nuzzled into your clit, your hands gripping at the base of his neck.

He's pushing it in and out of you, listening to your broken out praises.

"T-thank you, thank y-you, please don't stop, p-please."

His cock is rubbing against your sheets as he lapping all over your cunt.

"Touch yourself " he demands as he focuses on pushing his tongue deeper into you.

Your hand goes to your puffy clit, his spit making your fingers glide over with ease.

Soft moans leave his mouth each time he swallows, his hips find a steady pace as he waits for you to lose yourself.

The knot in your belly tightens as you suck in a deep breath, your orgasm making you push your hips up into Tomura's mouth, his hands still pushing at your legs, not letting you close them around his head.

Your legs began to shake under the pressure, his licks not slowing down.

You try to wiggle your hips out of the way, but he just looks up at you with a threatening gaze.

Once tears begin to roll down your cheeks, he is satisfied enough to let go of you.

His mouth leaves your pussy with a wet "pop" sound.

You look down at your bedsheets to find them completely ruined.

You let out a small laugh, making Tomura feel guilty for making himself look like a pervert.

You pull him down to lay next to you, gently trailing your fingers down his skin.

"Don't worry about it, it's fairly erotic" you reassure him as he buries his face in your chest.

"I'm not embarrassed " he huffs out hiding his face even more.

"Yeah, never said you were" you mumble, comfortingly scratching his head.

You'll have to thank Kurogiri in the morning.

___________

requests:closed

commissions:open

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@fairlyathleticquailssince1988

#shigaraki x reader lemon #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki lemon #shigaraki smut #shigaraki tenko #tomura x reader #shigaraki x y/n

[yourmcu]

V-Day

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary:

You’re not like most people who enjoys Valentine’s Day. Can a certain redhead change that?

A/n: just a late valentine related imagine for all of u bc I’m incapable of posting this sort of stuff on the exact day. enjoy! (I’m finally using this iconic gif don’t mind me)

Word count: 1,753

Warnings: fluff

The 14th of February is just another normal day for you. You always find Valentine’s Day cheesy, you don’t see the point of celebrating it. That sort of thing isn’t as important as Christmas or Halloween. Not that you're bitter because you're single, you couldn’t care less about that, it just isn’t the occasion for you.

Tony outdone it this year. The compound looks like it was powdered pink and red overnight from all the decorations when you step out of your room. You almost don’t want to know what the main area looks like. Sam and Wanda are probably getting started on breakfast which would consist of everything shaped like hearts.

Your plan for the day is to stay in your room, only coming out for snack and drink refills, simple as that.

“Hey, Happy Valentine’s...” you pretty much tone out every v-day greeting that came your way, rolling your eyes playfully as you sit down with everyone, greeting them with the usual good morning. You expect the compound to be deserted by midday since surely all of them have plans with their partners for the rest of the day, which is perfect. For you. And for them, of course, yeah.

Sam and Bucky made their way to you. “So, Y/N, how are you?” Sam greets. You already suspect that they were hyping you up for something. “Food good, coffee good... sleep well?”

You turn to them with a smile on your face. “Alright, what do you want?”

“Well,” Bucky lets out a breathy laugh. “Sam here was just helping me-”

“That is not what’s happening. What he wanted to say was,” the birdman cuts him off. “We both wanted to take you out to dinner tonight, we can’t settle on who, so we’re letting you pick.”

You blink. They have to be joking. Do they not notice your routine during this time of the year? After socializing with the team you’d grab a day’s worth of snack, head back to your room, lock the door and lose your mind on video games until the next day.

Unhealthy, but it's for one day.

“Only if you want to,” Bucky adds hastily.

“Come on, this is a chance of a lifetime!” Sam insists, wiggling his eyebrows.

“We’ll go to your favorite restaurant.”

“It’s just a friendly date.”

What you fail to notice was Natasha listening to the events happening. Her foot taps against the floor as she discreetly waits for your response, taking coffee sips and bites of food and looking away whenever she looked like she's eavesdropping. No one else is paying attention, everyone has their own conversations.

Inside, she pleads that you’d turn both of them down, just because she’s planning to ask you out herself. They just beat her to it.

“I appreciate the thought but I’m sorry, I have plans,” you shrug. “Why don’t you take each other out instead? Not literally.” You give them another smile and walk out of the room, coffee in hand. 

Sam and Bucky nods indicating they understood. Sam tells his friend that if he had more appeal you’d agree to the date. But they take you up on your advice, already planning a guy’s night.

Natasha almost cheers when she hears the first part, only to spiral when she hears that someone had already asked you beforehand. You're unavailable. She could ask you out any day, but you deserve something extra special. She sees this day as her only chance to confess her feelings for you.

Her eyes trail you as you walk out, turning to Wanda when you were out of sight. “Do you have any idea who asked Y/N out?”

“I don’t,” Wanda replies, a bit distracted. “They’re lucky, I’ve never seen Y/N show interest in anyone since I met her. Anyway, I have to go, Vision and I have a whole day planned...”

Natasha huffs while people slowly file out of the kitchen. As far as she knows, Tony's with Pepper, of course, Wanda and Vision, Steve is probably going to join Sam and Bucky on their night out, and Clint is back at his farm celebrating with his wife.

And you’re with that person, which most likely someone who isn’t on the team otherwise she’d know. She's left by herself to mope.

-

Few hours have passed, maybe three, it’s lunchtime. As you suspected the compound is empty, so you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself something to eat.

Boxed mac and cheese is the only thing you knew how to make.

“Y/N?”

You almost drop your stirring spoon at the sudden voice. You feel embarrassed about your choice of outfit, you feel and look like a grizzly bear while she looks stunning, even if it’s just plain workout clothes.

“Hey, Nat.”

“I thought you were... out with someone?” Knowing you, she might’ve misunderstood when you said you ‘had plans’. You look so cozy she would love to hug you on the spot if she isn’t so sweaty.

You let out a curious hum, turning off the stove. “I was?” You giggle. “Where’d you hear that?”

“I didn’t, just, I assumed you’d be,” she mutters and finishes her water bottle. 

You're now grabbing a bowl for the mac and cheese you made. “I mean, Sam and Bucky did ask me if I wanted to but... y’know, if I’m being honest they’re not really my type.” You pause to look at her who was staring back. “Have you eaten? This batch I made is enough for three people, I think.”

Natasha nods at your offer. “They did say it was a friendly date.”

You stop scooping the macaroni and perk your head up with a grin. “So you were listening.”

“Not like I had any choice, I was in the same room.” Quick save.

“Mmhm.” 

Then there's  a minute of comfy silence as you clean the area you made the meal on, putting the pot away and stuff.

“Why don’t you have a date today?”

“What?”

“Anyone would kill to go on a date with you, Nat.” Is what you say in your head. But instead you say, “Well, you know, I didn’t expect you be here too.”

Natasha shrugs and before she could answer you add, “No one’s caught the notorious Black Widow’s attention yet?”

She chuckles at your words, looking up at you. “Who did you think I’d go out with?”

“I dunno, Steve-”

“God, no,” she quickly cuts you off and laugh,  you laugh along but at the same time sigh in relief.

“Crap, I just remembered I have a game to finish,” you hold the bowl of cheese and macaroni and stick two spoons on the side. “I’m cordially inviting you to my room, you are very much welcome, after you change.”

Natasha tells you she’ll see you there in a bit.

-

“Huh. I just noticed you do this every Valentine’s Day,” Natasha notes as she takes everything in. Your PlayStation's on, your trash bin is almost full of snack wrappings, couple of beers tucked at the side of your bed. “Cozy.”

“Why, thank you,” you say sarcastically, picking up a controller and waving a vacant one at her. “Feel free. Or you can just watch me fail at this game.”

Natasha decides to join the game a little later, now she's lost in thought on how someone like you spends such a day like this, or how beautiful you looked as your eyes dart at every direction of the screen and how you sometimes bite your lip when you're that focused in the game.

It's always the little things she likes about you.

Glancing at you one more time before eating a spoonful of mac, she turns back to the TV to watch how you're doing.

But you're witty, kind and easy to get along with, why wouldn’t you have a date - or why wouldn’t you want a date on Valentine’s Day?

If only you knew how she feels, she’d make sure to treat you well. Like you deserve. She’d take you on dates you’d enjoy every time the 14th rolls by. If you don’t like the holiday for some reason she’d find a way-

“NO WAY,” you cover your mouth and bump your head to Natasha’s shoulder in defeat, making her come back from her trance to look at the big red words on the screen, indicating you lost. “I almost had it!”

Natasha leans into your touch and pats your back. “You can try again.”

You groan. “I definitely will but for now, I’m gonna take a break.”

“Great,” she shifts a bit to get comfy, switching to Netflix and choosing whatever’s trending right now. “I’m just curious but, do you like someone?”

You hum in response, sipping on a beer, not completely processing what she said. “I - yeah. I guess so,” you tug the blanket closer and pout at the movie that’s on. You don’t like romance movies. You always prefer an action or a mystery one any day. “Do you?”

Natasha feels her heart ache for a moment. “Yeah. She’s kind and sweet, goofy but can still seriously kick your ass type.” Your eyes land to her hands. You knew fully well Natasha isn’t straight, she admitted and definitely doesn’t act like it. “There’s just something about her that makes me... love her.”

“She sounds great,” you mumble, starting to get lost in your own thoughts. “I guess I just-” you hesitate, just because the woman you're about to describe is the same one sitting next to you. “I feel bad for her that someone like me likes her.”

“Why would you think that?” Natasha chuckles, shaking her head.

You shrug. “She’s amazing. So out of my league, I’d say she’s so close but so far away but that would be really cheesy and ugly,” you laugh. “I don’t know, she deserves way better.”

Natasha hums. “Sometimes I think she needs to her worth, because what she doesn’t know is, she’s very much amazing in her own way.”

Looking up at her from her shoulder, your eyes light up and you don’t know when it happened, but you just found her lips pressed against yours softly.

Even if it was just a short kiss you feel breathless when she pulls away to look at you again.

“Just so we’re clear, we’re just describing each other like idiots right?”

“Yeah.”

Natasha leans in to kiss you again.

---

oh my god I want a hug

[shameless plug] check out my natasha romanoff ambience here

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff oneshot #natalia romanova #natalia alianovna romanova #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x fem!reader #black widow imagines #avengers #the avengers #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #mcu imagines #tony stark #bucky barnes #sam wilson #wanda maximoff #vision #steve rogers #x reader #reader insert #valentine's day #fluff

[ssahotchhner]

like real people do

PART TWO

hi! this is my first criminal minds fic, i haven’t watched the show all the way through in several years and while doing a rewatch discovered that i HAD to write hotch. this will be two parts, here’s the first! let me know your thoughts please, i love talking to my readers (:

words: 5837

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: usual criminal minds nastiness, rape mention, death, curse words

Everyone knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner has been emotionally unavailable since his divorce, so everyone was that much more surprised when he kissed you at the bar in front of all your colleagues at the BAU. You wouldn’t lie, you had had a crush on Aaron for years now, but you had imagined your hypothetical romance much differently. As it was, Aaron had immediately left the bar in a flurry of embarrassment, murmuring a hurried apology on his way out leaving you to the unabashed teasing of your coworkers that you had pretended to brush off. Now, days later, Aaron still refused to so much as look at you.

“Y/N,” Morgan rolled his chair over to your desk, “I’m dying to know, is Hotch a good kisser?”

You sigh, “Fuck off, Derek.”

“Leave the poor girl alone, Derek,” Rossi says as he passes by, “Don’t you think it’s bad enough Hotch is giving her the silent treatment now?”

You tried to hide the way the tears pricked the back of your eyes at his comment, but you were surrounded by FBI profilers.

Morgan lowered his voice and reach out his hand to touch your arm, “Hey, babygirl, I’m sorry, I was just teasing, maybe you should try talking to Hotch--”

“Talking to me about what?” Aaron had been so quiet walking up on you and your head had been low, so focused on not crying that you hadn’t heard him.

“Nothing.” You say quickly, and as expected he avoids making eye contact, “Do you need something, sir?” You don’t miss the way he flinches at the formality. Good.

“We have a new case.” He says simply and walks away.

Morgan let out a low whistle, “You really hit him with the ‘sir.’” You started to get up from your desk, but Morgan put a hand on your arm again, “Seriously, Y/N, I’m sorry. If you need to talk I’m here.”

You sighed and stood up again, forcing a smile, “There’s nothing to talk about Derek, I’m fine. Now come on.”

“We have a serial rapist in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.” JJ starts immediately as everyone files in. You feel Morgan’s gaze on you the entire time and try not to get frustrated. He’s been like a brother to you since you joined the BAU a few years ago and you know this overprotectiveness was just him being a good friend, but it was bound to drive you nuts. “Victims are all white women ranging from their late teens to early twenties at a local university.”

“Why are we being called in for a rapist on a college campus?” Reid asks, “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we all know the statistics. There are dozens of serial rapists on college campuses.”

“Because this one is torturing them while he rapes them and leaves them notes leading up to the attacks.” Hotch says as Penelope begins to pull up pictures on the screen of these women. “Slut, whore, bitch, cunt. All carved on their chests.” You do your best to hide the nausea that rises in you as you look at the pictures. Do your job. You remind yourself.

“What do the notes say?” Emily asks.

“They seem like thinly veiled threats,” Reid begins, “They sound romantic at first glance, but if you read closely you can see the context.” 

“He breaks into their dorms when they’re at class or at parties and waits for them to come home and then he holds them at knifepoint so they won’t scream.” Penelope says, trying not to let her voice shake.

“Risky to do in a dorm building and no one’s seen him?” Morgan says.

Rossi ponders this, “That means he must blend in, someone no one would think twice about being inside. A student, an RA, or a university official.”

“University officials don’t normally enter student dorms unless there’s an issue, they’d be more likely to stand out and students would talk about them showing up.” Hotch muses.

“Y/N, you’re awful quiet today,” Emily nudges your elbow, “What do you think?”

You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, but Aaron’s. Still looking at his manila folder as if Emily hadn’t addressed you. As if you didn’t exist. You clear your throat, “I think the RA or student theory makes sense. We should probably interview the RA of the first victim, assuming he’s a man. It would make sense to me that he would start with one of his own students and then begin to branch out. Maybe he thought he could stop, get that release he needed after just one, but the need only grew stronger.”

“Wheels up in thirty, we’ll discuss more on the plane.” Hotch says and stands, walking out of the room without another glance.

“Did something happen last night at the bar?” Emily murmurs, the only member of the team who didn’t make it out the night before, “Hotch is acting really weird around you.”

Derek snickers on the other side of you and you elbow him, “That’s it, I’m going to talk to him.”

Reid winces, “Good luck.”

“It’ll be fine, kid.” Rossi says and squeezes your shoulder as you pass.

You take a long breath before you finally build the courage to walk into Aaron’s office where he’s packing his briefcase. “Sir, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Can it wait until we’re on the plane, agent?”

Agent. You roll your eyes toward the ceiling, “No, sir, it can’t.” You can’t hide the bite in your words this time. He finally looks at you, really looks at you. You wonder what he sees.

“Close the door.” He says quietly and then sits behind his desk.

You walk slowly to the seat in front of his desk. This time, he watches you. “This is the first time you’ve looked at me all day.”

“I wasn’t aware you were analyzing me.”

“Are you telling me you haven’t been analyzing me all day?”

“Agent, what is this about? We have a plane to catch.”

You stare at him for a few moments longer, “Fine,” You stand, “If you want to pretend nothing happened, I’ll do the same. But if you could at least stop ignoring me, that would be great.”

“Agent--”

“And use my goddamn name, for Christ’s sake.”

He stares at you and you know he hates your emotional outburst and that in turn makes you hate yourself. “Then you stop calling me ‘sir.’” He says quietly.

Your eyes soften for just a moment and then you storm back out of his office nearly plowing over Rossi as you leave. Rossi walks into Aaron’s office to see him rubbing his forehead, “Well that doesn’t look like it went well.”

“I screwed up, Rossi.” 

“Oh, come on Hotch, it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything--”

“It did mean something. To me. Maybe not to her.”

Rossi shakes his head, “Then why are you giving her the cold shoulder?”

Hotch sighs, “Because we work together, because she doesn’t feel the same, because she’s the first woman I’ve kissed since Haley. Pick a reason.” Rossi looks like he’s going to interject, but Hotch stands, “We don’t have time for this, Rossi, let’s go.”

Rossi sighs as he watches Aaron walk out of his office and follows after.

***

You’re quiet most of the plane ride, conscious of the looks everyone is giving you as you read the information in the manila folder over and over, trying to be good at your job instead of thinking about your boss.

“When we get off the plane, JJ and Prentiss, you go talk to the victims. Rossi and I will touch base with the police. Morgan, Reid, Y/N, you go talk to anyone you can find at the dorms, see if anyone’s seen anyone suspicious.” You make it a point not to react, but everyone else reacts anyway, watching you carefully. Hotch almost always assigns himself with you. 

“If you guys don’t stop psychoanalyzing me I will eject myself from this plane.” 

Everyone looks away except Aaron and when you meet his eyes, he’s smirking. Those smiles are so rare and you can’t deny how it satisfies you to know you were the reason he did so. You quickly look back down at your work, careful not to reveal anything you’re feeling.

***

“Do you have feelings for Hotch?” Reid asks without preamble when you’re in the car with Derek.

“Spencer!” You exclaim in outrage. Derek just laughs from the driver’s seat.

“What? You both wouldn’t be being so weird about one kiss if it wasn’t something more.”

“Okay, Romeo, remember that she’s armed.” Derek cautioned.

“He’s my boss, Reid. It’s weird because he’s my boss.”

“Well, sure, by definition Hotch is our superior but we all know--” Reid cut himself off when he saw the look Derek was giving him in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, you’re right, it’s weird.” He said quickly.

You sigh and turn to the window and ignore Derek and Spencer the rest of the ride.

***

“So you mean to tell me that ten women have come forward about being raped in their dorms and you told them to consider themselves lucky they weren’t murdered and sent them home without doing a rape kit?” Aaron’s furious. Furious with himself for the previous night and he’s more than happy to take out that anger on the local Milwaukee police department.

“Look, man, we get a lot of he said she said in here, we don’t have the time or the man power to follow up on every one.”

Just then his phone rings. It’s you. He wishes he could ignore the pang that goes through him just from reading your name. “Hotch.” He answers.

“Sir-- I mean, Aaron.” You correct yourself quickly, and then realize you should have called him Hotch, but it’s too late. “They’ve found a body.”

He frowns, “A body? That doesn’t fit his MO.”

You swallow, “Yeah, well, everything else does. He seems to have gotten a little carried away with the carving this time.”

“We’ll be right there.”

You hang up your phone and then turn back to Reid and Morgan who are looking over the crime scene. You sit with Victoria’s, the victim’s, distraught roommate and try to calm her and maybe get some actual information out of her. You don’t hear or see Aaron walk in until he’s already next to you, “Did you get anything from her?”

His closeness makes it hard to focus, “Just regular roommate stuff, she might be more useful once she calms down. I asked if her roommate had a boyfriend or anything like that and she said she was quiet, kept to herself. Boys were out of the question.”

“He’s escalated. Why?”

You shrug, “Could be because we’re here, that might have upset him and he lost control. But it could have been an accident, roommate says Victoria had a heart condition. The stress of the situation might have killed her.”

Hotch nods, “Good work.”

He was trying to be normal, you could tell. And he was trying so hard. “Thank you.” You said softly and then you excused yourself. Everything about him set you on edge and over and over the moment he kissed you plays in your head.

***

You’re both laughing to near snorting while sitting at the bar and Aaron can’t stop watching you, “You have an incredible laugh, you know?” He says softly when you’ve both settled down. “Sometimes when I think this job isn’t worth it, I’ll hear your laugh outside my office and just that sound…” He realizes what he’s saying suddenly and turns his head away from you smiling at his drink now.

“You make it worth it for me too.” You say and his eyes are back on you, “You so rarely ever smile, but when you smile at me… It makes it all worth it. The long hours, the horrible cases… all of it.”

When you look back at him he’s suddenly serious again. You can see his eyes calculating as he searches your face and you realize with a bit of shock that he’s trying to see if you’re lying. When his eyes finally settle back on yours, he gently reaches up, almost without thinking about it and curls a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

And then in the next second, his hand still on your face, his mouth is on yours.You forget that there’s anyone else in the world for those few seconds that he kisses you. Until everyone on the team starts jeering and Aaron pulls away like he’s seen a ghost.

“Aaron?” You say, frowning as he jumps up from his seat, not looking at you and gathering his things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he murmurs and then runs out.

Derek’s laughing as he walks up to you, “Damn, princess. You broke Hotch! I gotta say, you’re incredibly out of his league.” You glare at him. “What? You’re out of my league too.”

You smile at that and try to act like everything’s normal, but you’re sure Spencer notices that you drink more and laugh a little too loudly.

***

You’re pulled back from the memory as JJ walks toward you, “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah,” You nod, “Fine, just needed a second alone to think.”

She stops in front of you and rests her hand on your arm, lightly squeezing, “You can talk to me, you know, about men. Even Hotch.”

You smile, “I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m fine, really. It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a big deal if it starts interfering with the job, and I can see it on both of you,” She’s stern all of a sudden, “I know he’s our boss, but underneath that he’s just any other man, Y/N. Don’t let him fool you into thinking otherwise.”

“Guys,” Derek interrupts, sticking his head out into the hallway, “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

When you come back in the room, Spencer is crouched over the body, gloves on, examining the carvings in her body, “There’s hesitation in the cuts this time and you can tell they were done after she was dead. And if you look a little bit closer…”

“‘Sorry…’” You read the small script, astonished. “Remorse. It was an accident.” Your eyes dart back and forth as you lose yourself in your own thoughts while the rest of the team discusses, “I think we can deliver the profile.”

***

“We’re looking for a white male in his early to mid twenties.” Hotch starts, “He most likely is able to gain the women’s trust, maybe he’s a student RA or a student tech worker, but they let him in without a second thought.”

“I thought he breaks into the dorms and waits for them?” A cop asks.

“He does,” You say, “But the initial access is how he chooses his victims. He’s a loner, doesn’t have many friends, certainly no girlfriend. It’s possible that he asks these girls on dates when he first meets them, and when they refuse he feels entitled to them anyway which is why he comes back for the rape.”

“What about the murder?” Another cop asks.

“We believe the death of the last girl was an accident.” Reid responds, “She had a heart condition and the medical examiner has confirmed she died from sudden cardiac arrest. The unsub even seemed to show remorse when he defiled the body after, carving the word ‘sorry’ into her body.”

“The killing has most likely set him on edge. He’s remorseful, upset, overcome with immense guilt, but he blames the women. If they had just said yes to him, he wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t have died.” Derek continues, “You should be looking for someone who was soft spoken, but as the rapes started he became more assertive, maybe he had an altercation with a professor or supervisor.”

“You’ve probably interviewed him already,” You say, “He inserts himself into the investigation because he feels guilt and watching the investigation play out validates that he was right for doing what he did.” You sigh, “There’s one more thing. He didn’t intend to kill Victoria, but… He spent time with the body after she had passed. He mutilated her as well as continued his rape of her afterward. It’s possible that he enjoyed the kill and will kill the next time as well. So stay vigilant and… please tell the girls not to let any men in their dorms. Thank you.”

Aaron comes up to you, “Can I speak to you alone for a moment?”

You nod and follow him into a conference room and he closes the door behind you, “You’re really an incredible profiler, agent.”

Again with the ‘agent.’ “Thank you, sir.”

“I just wanted to assure you that I will remain nothing but professional around you from here on out.”

You tilted your head to the side and you knew the pain was evident on your face as you didn’t try to hide it, “I see.”

“You’re upset.”

You laugh, “Did you mean anything you said at the bar, Aaron, or were you just drunk?” You’re aware of how vulnerable you’re being in front of him now as you can hear the tears in your own voice.

You see him calculating what the best response is and this just infuriates you more, “Forget it, you’re just going to talk to me like some unsub, trying to best figure out what to say to calm me down.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not what I’m doing.”

You start to walk out and stop to stand next to him, “You just said yourself I’m an incredible profiler, so please don’t profile me and think I won’t notice.”

He closes his eyes as you continue walking out, “Y/N, wait.” Despite yourself, you do stop at the sound of your name. “I’m sorry, I-- I meant the things I said at the bar, I’m… But I’m your boss and I don’t want to make it difficult for you to do your job.”

You force a smile and look up at him, “Don’t worry, Hotch, won’t be a problem.”

And then you’re gone and he gets the feeling you won’t call him Aaron ever again.

***

Spencer walks in the entrance of the dorm you’ve been staking out, two coffees in hand. He hands one to you wordlessly, “Have you gotten any sleep?”

“Obviously not.” You sigh and happily guzzle the coffee, “Thanks.”

“Hotch is upset.”

“About what?” You murmur, half paying attention, half going over the case again on the papers in front of you.

“About you, obviously.”

You don’t look up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How do you even know Hotch is upset? He always looks like he’s pissed at something.”

“Because I’m a profiler. Everyone knows he’s off, no one will say to his face that it’s because of you.”

You sigh and look up at him, “Spencer, we’re fine, okay? We’re adults.” He’s quiet, but he won’t stop staring at you, “What?”

“I know that I’m… not the most perceptive when it comes to emotions, but… I think he’s in love with you. And I’m pretty sure you’re in love with him.”

You smirk, “And what makes you think that, Mr. Profiler?”

He smiles back, “Well, Hotch is always watching you, mostly when you’re not looking and when he does his expression sort of… softens. He almost always assigns the two of you together when giving the unit assignments, which I think is partially because he likes to be around you, but also because he’s trying to protect you, especially after that hostage situation a few months ago. He was a wreck when you were in there. Screaming at everyone, I really thought he would kill the unsub when he found him.”

“He would do that for any of us, when any of us were in danger.” You said, quickly shaking your head to dismiss the idea.

But Spencer shakes his head, “You didn’t see him. It was different.”

“Spencer, he barely gave me a pat on the back when I left that hostage situation alive.”

“That’s because he doesn’t trust himself around you. Why do you think the only time he’s ever given you a hint at the way he feels was when he was drunk?”

Your head is spinning as you look at Spencer, “No, that doesn’t make any sense--”

“It makes perfect sense and I know you know that.” Spencer’s phone rings, “Reid.” He sighs and lowers his head, “Where? Okay, we’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone, “There’s another body.”

You sigh, “I really hate being right.”

***

“You were right,” Hotch says from behind you, “He’s discovered he likes killing.”

It was never easy looking at bodies, but somehow it was always worse when you had predicted it and still not been able to stop it, “How did he do it?”

“Manual strangulation.”

“Has anyone checked for skin or blood under her fingernails? Sign of a struggle?”

Aaron nods, “Already scraped off and sent to Garcia.”

“Even if she can’t find a match, we’ll be able to narrow down suspects by the injuries she left.”

“The school is panicking, they want to evacuate the campus.”

“If they evacuate we’ll never find him, he’ll just start again somewhere else.”

“That’s what I told them.”

You sigh, “Why are the girls still letting him in?”

“Maybe they’re not,” Hotch mused, “Maybe he’s starting to pick the girls from his classes now that we’re here.”

“The last two victims, do we have their schedules? Their majors?”

“They were both nursing majors,” Emily interjects, “Third year.”

You nod, “Okay, so by that point, third year, majority of their classes are restricted to nursing majors only.” You flip your phone open and dial Penelope.

“Hello my delightful fairy princess, what can I do for you?”

“Garcia, the last two victims, can you cross reference their class schedules and tell me if they had any classes in common?”

“Yes, just a second… Three classes in common.”

“Okay, cross reference with the remaining victims.”

“Um, okay, wow, all of them had two classes in common.”

“Shit.” You mutter, “Can you send over the class rosters of both those classes, but just the men. And also send pictures.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Penelope.”

You shake your head, “They were all nursing majors.” You say as you hang up, “How did we miss that?”

Reid was shaking his head, “We didn’t have a lot of time to interview the victims before the first body turned up.”

“Alright, we need everyone looking through those rosters, rounding up every male we can and interviewing them.” Hotch starts, “Y/N, you’re with me for interviews, the rest of you keep in touch with Garcia and find out anything you can.”

You try to ignore the shock you feel that he picked you this time, noting Reid’s raised eyebrows as he left the room. “You sure you want me on interviews?” You ask when you’re alone.

He’s looking at all the evidence on the corkboard, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Wasn’t sure if you would want to work closely with me anymore.” You say, standing next to him now and also looking over the evidence.

He looks at you now, “You have the same features as a lot of the victims, I’m hoping it’ll get a rise out of our unsub if we find him.”

You nod, “Makes sense.”

“And,” He says pointedly until you meet his eyes, “As I’ve said already, you’re an excellent agent and I could use your help on this.”

You heave a big sigh, “Okay, how do you wanna play it?”

He shrugs, “I think you already know what role I need you to play.”

***

This is maybe the tenth or so interview you and Hotch had done with no success. You were tired of playing this role, especially in front of Hotch.

“Jordan.” You smile sweetly at him, making sure to lean over the table just a little to give him the view he wants, “Did you know either of these girls?” You lay the pictures of the last couple victims on the table, wait to see his reaction. He brings his hands up to rest on the table and you see the shallow scratch marks on them, you share a discreet look with Hotch who barely nods in acknowledgement.

He stares for far too long. Hotch notices his hands clench into fists. He’s excited by the bodies.

“Yeah, I knew them.” He’s still looking at the pictures, “They were in two of my classes.” He finally looks up and gazes at you hungrily, “You seem awful young to be an FBI agent.”

You smile again and then look away, a sign of submission. “Stop flirting with my agent.” Hotch says placing his palms abruptly on the table. Jordan doesn’t flinch at Hotch’s presence, not taking his eyes off you. He’s more confident than either of you anticipated. Was the profile wrong or is this the wrong guy? “How did you know the victims?”

“I just told you, from class.”

“Did you ever see them outside of class?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe, to do a project, not in a while though.”

“Jordan, do you know if either of the girls had a boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” He frowns, “Those two? No.” He practically scoffs.

You tilt your head to the side, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Those girls aren’t the boyfriend type. They’re whores.” There’s the bitterness in his voice.

You try to make your face as empathetic as possible, “What do you mean by that, Jordan?”

“Well, you know, they slept around… Wouldn’t give a nice guy like me a chance. You must know their type, you’re the FBI.”

You nod, “It must be so hard for a handsome, smart guy like you to get rejected. I can’t imagine why anyone would dream of missing out on that,” You shake your head, “Their loss.”

Hotch audibly scoffs and you watch Jordan glare at him. He’s getting angry. Good. “Hotch, why don’t you go get Jordan a water?”

Hotch blinks at you, trying to figure out if you had really just given him an order, “Agent, I am the lead interrogator on this case, I’m not leaving you alone in here--”

“Agent Hotchner,” You turn in your seat to face him, hoping he’ll read your expression, “Please get the young man a water, he’s been in here for hours.”

His eyes search your face for a few moments and then he leaves the room without another word. He won’t be getting Jordan a water. You know he’s watching carefully from the other side of the glass. “Sorry about him.” You say, “He doesn’t understand men like you.”

“Men like me?”

“Men who know how to get what they want.”

His face transforms as he watches you and he leans back in his chair, relaxed, legs spread to assert his dominance. “And you understand that?”

“There’s nothing sexier than a man who goes after what he wants… No matter what.”

He leans forward and whispers, “Even when they beg me to stop?”

You swallow past your disgust and, though you hate to admit it, fear, “Did they beg you to stop? Victoria and Erica?”

His smile widens as he watches you, “You remind me so much of them.”

“Can you tell me what you did to them? How you killed them?”

He licks his lips now, you think he’s lost all sense of where he is, falling for the delusion you’ve set in front of him, “You’re just like them, a dirty little slut. You want to be punished, don’t you?”

“Please.” Is the last word you whisper before he practically jumps across the table to grab your throat. Your chair falls backwards and he’s on top of you, crushing your windpipe. How could you forget that he was uncuffed? Hotch rushes in, he yells as he pulls Jordan off you, but you’re not sure what he’s saying. Then he’s cuffed Jordan and taken you out of the room.

“Sit.” Aaron says, ushering you to a chair that you practically fall into. You’re still coughing and you’re shaking a bit as Aaron gives you a water.

“I forgot,” You start, your voice hoarse, but Hotch brings the water cup to your mouth, insisting you drink before talking. You take a couple swallows, “I forgot he wasn’t cuffed.”

He shakes his head, “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

“No, I needed you on the other side of the glass. He wouldn’t have fallen for the delusion otherwise. I needed him to forget who I was and just see me as a potential victim.” Aaron wouldn’t meet your eyes, not wanting to admit that you were right, “I’m going back in there.”

“No, you’re not, that’s out of the question.”

“Is that an order, sir?” He scans your face in frustration, “You know it has to be me. He won’t talk to you. I’ll be fine.”

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Fine. Ask him about Erica, don’t ask about Victoria.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t kill Victoria himself, it’ll ruin the fantasy and he might lie to you to try to impress you. The details of the murders weren’t shared with the public, only the unsub would know how each of them died. He needs to reveal how he killed Erica to you and then we’ll have him.”

“Okay.” You stand and hold your hands behind you so he won’t see them shaking, but he’s a profiler. The attempt is mute.

He takes a step closer, “You don’t have to go back in there,” He says softly, “No one will think less of you.”

When he’s this close, looking at you with such concern, it makes you want to melt in his arms. But you had a job to do, “I can do this.”

And before he can make you think about it more, you turn away from him and march back in the interrogation room.

“Sorry about that,” You sit back down at the table and smile at him, “My partner gets a little jealous sometimes.” You lean in and whisper, “He’s usually the only one I let handle me like that.”

Just like that he’s back, “Why don’t you uncuff me so we can continue?”

You bite your lip, “I’d like to hear more about the other girls first.”

***

“Why is she in there by herself?” Rossi came up behind Aaron who was watching the unsub’s every move, ready to jump in again if needed.

“She insisted.” Hotch says simply, “She almost has him.”

Rossi sighs, “She’s stubborn. Like someone else I know.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment, “I can’t be with her, Rossi, it could ruin her career.”

“You can’t know that. And besides, don’t you think that should be her decision to make?”

Hotch doesn’t answer, he just continues watching you.

***

“Does it turn you on hearing what I’ve done to them?”

You’re sitting on your hands now, trying to stifle the growing panic in your head that was telling you to get out. He’s unarmed, he’s cuffed, Aaron is right there. He can’t hurt you. “You have no idea.” It came out breathless from your fear, but he interpreted it as desire.

“First, I knocked her out, tied her to the bed. Then I waited for her to wake up before I began. I stripped her clothes off her at that point and then I fucked her while she cried,” He’s smiling at you and you’re doing all you can to keep your expression neutral. “I took out the knife and started carving her up. You should have heard her beg. And then, when that’s all finished, I strangled her while I came inside her.” He leans over the table to get closer to you, and it takes everything in you not to move away, “Have you ever watched the light leave someone’s eyes, sweetheart?”

You calmly scoot your chair back and stand, buttoning your shirt back up and then resting your hand on your gun, reminding him of who you really are, “Thank you, Jordan. You’ve been incredibly helpful in this investigation.” And then turn to leave ignoring the way he calls after you.

When you exit the room, Aaron and Dave are both waiting for you and you sit down, exhausted, resting your head in your hands.

“Nice work, kid.” Dave says with a squeeze on your shoulder, and then he’s gone.

Then, there’s another touch on your back, more gentle and hesitant. You look up to see Aaron watching you, concern masking his face, “I’m fine, Hotch.” You say, shrugging him off.

His hand drops and you immediately regret it. “When you were taken those months ago, by that unsub…” His words are slow, as if making sure this is what he really wants to say to you. You know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it, “He raped you, didn’t he?” Your eyes snap up to meet his. “You would never tell us what actually happened, all those hours he had you, a sexual sadist.” He shakes his head, “There’s no way he would’ve been able to control himself.”

You shake your head just lightly, “I can’t do this now, Aaron.”

“Then when?” He’s frustrated now, borderline angry, “You lied at your psych eval, you said nothing happened, we let you come back after just a couple of weeks--”

“And I’m doing just fine, aren’t I?” You stand so you’re nearly eye level with him.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you almost fell apart in there?”

“But I didn’t. I finished it and I did a damn good job and you know it.”

Hotch erases all traces of emotion from his face as he stares you down, “You’re suspended for two weeks, effective immediately. Hand over your badge and gun, agent.”

You nearly stumble back from him as if you’ve been hit, “Aaron?”

“What’s going on?” Prentiss has entered the room now followed by the rest of the team, all watching with confused and worried expressions.

“You heard me.” Hotch says, never taking his eyes off you. You make no moves to take out your badge or gun, “Now, agent.” There’s bite to his words this time.

You feel humiliated. With the whole team watching, you place your gun and badge on the table and brush by Aaron without a second glance. Pushing past the team, even Spencer who reaches for you.

“What the hell was that, Hotch?” Derek says once you’ve left.

“She lied in order to pass her psych eval. I did what I had to do.” Everyone’s staring at him, but he walks by, seemingly unphased, “Good work, everyone. Get some rest, we go home tomorrow at first light.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #hotch fic #hotch fluff #hotch angst #hotch imagine #mine

[juniorgman187]

Things We Know By Heart (Spencer Reid Fluff)

Summary: Reader teaches Spencer how to slow dance in preparation for his wedding. The only problem? Reader’s in love with Spencer, and she isn’t the bride. 

A/N: S/O to Kyla who bullied me throughout all of elementary school. Ik you’ve probably changed since then, but you literally traumatized and tormented me for more than six years of my life. So I felt like including you in this story as, “Kayla,” Spencer’s fiancé. Tehe, I’m petty like that.  Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Fluff Word Count: 6.5k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

I think we’d all like to believe that somewhere out there is our person. And somehow, someway, they’ll get to where they need to go, right where they belong. 

With us. 

That’s what I’d like to believe. 

I’d like to think that no matter what happens along our journeys to each other, we’ll arrive at the same destination regardless. 

But that isn’t necessarily true, is it? 

Because maybe, my soulmate got lost along the way. They met somebody great, someone they think is their person, and they married that person. They had kids and eventually, grandkids with that person, even though, deep down - they knew it wasn’t right. They stayed with them anyway because their fear of being alone superseded their fear of being with the wrong person for life. 

And what am I to do when that happens? When my person finds a different person. 

Am I supposed to believe that the universe will be so kind as to give my soulmate the courage to leave their relationship behind and forge a new one with me? 

Am I supposed to expect that the world will supply me with another person, the person I’m supposed to marry? 

Or do I simply wait for my person to come to the conclusion that they’re meant to be with me after all and my naive entitlement to a soulmate is validated?

Is life really that magical? 

This is the story of what happens when your person loves a different person.

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

With his hand at the nape of my neck to support my head and his other hand flat against the small of my back, he dipped me backward, leaning with me as I arched my back and bent the leg closest to the crowd, pointing my foot to elongate my leg artistically. This was our ending position so I remained in it until the song ended. The two of us bowed to thank the audience and to conclude our performance. Roses fell at our feet while the sound of applause echoed in the room. I was never a fan of being the center of attention, but there was something about this overwhelming praise that was particularly blissful. It was intoxicating. 

“I didn’t know you knew how to dance like that.” I gushed to my partner; my cheeks growing pink from the heat and the head rush I got. 

He positioned his mouth right beside my ear so I could hear his words clearly over the rowdy cheering. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Princess.” said Morgan.

A gauntlet formed to clap for us both when we walked off the dance floor. Hand-in-hand, Morgan led me back to the table through the double file line of people. The team howled with excitement when they saw me and Morgan approaching.

“So this is what you two were keeping a secret from us? That you’re dance partners?” JJ had to ask. 

“Yep. All those late nights and secret rendezvous.” Morgan said, shimmying his shoulders be suggestive of a sexual innuendo, which I was not a fan of. Out of mock offense, I chucked a small towel at him with a grouchy command to “Shut up!” 

He took the towel to the face like a champ, laughing it off and dabbing his sweat away. 

“I don’t know who was sexier up there - Princess or my Hubba Hubba!” Garcia squealed pretending to claw at Derek, reeling him over towards her. 

“You looked like a natural up there, Y/N. Were you a dancer before?” Prentiss questioned while handing me a glass of water that I desperately gulped down. 

“My mom sent me to dance classes as soon as I could walk.” I jokingly explained after gathering my hair into a makeshift ponytail and lifting it off of my neck, cocking my head to the side and fanning the back of my neck to cool down. 

“Maybe you should teach Reid how to dance before the wedding. He’s got two left feet and I don’t think he wants Morgan to teach him how to waltz.” JJ quipped, making Derek throw his head back in laughter. The thought of Morgan and Reid slow dancing would truly be something - something hilarious. I laughed, too, until Reid’s voice interrupted me.

“Yeah, that’s actually a really good idea. Would you mind, Y/N? Kayla would be so happy.” 

I thought he was joking, but his humorless expression told me otherwise. 

“You want me to teach you how to dance?” 

He pursed his lips and nodded, not understanding why I was so confused. 

“Um . . . yeah. I can do that. Sure.” My tone wasn’t very convincing, but Reid’s optimism made him oblivious to my reluctance. He smiled and hugged me with one arm around my shoulder. 

“I have to call Kay and tell her the good news.” Reid dashed away from the table, pulling out his phone to dial his fiancé. 

I darted toward JJ with fury and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her into the bathroom for privacy. 

“What the hell was that? ‘Oh, Y/N, you should teach him how to dance.’ You know how I feel about Reid!” 

Rather than giving me hostility back, she broke into a smile. “Exactly! If you spend more time alone with him, maybe he’ll finally admit to himself that he shouldn’t be marrying Kayla,”

I rolled my eyes and turned my back away from her. 

“We all know Spence would be happier with you.” 

As JJ spoke, I trudged to the nearest sink, holding onto the sides for stability as the ground below me swayed. She followed me, rubbing up and down my back comfortingly. 

“You know how he is. He keeps things to himself, until eventually they’re forced to come out. If you dance with him, maybe he’ll finally tell you he loves you without actually having to say it. Do this for him . . . and for you.” JJ gave me one last pat on the back before exiting the bathroom to leave me to my devices.

Normally, teaching a friend how to slow dance in preparation for his wedding would be sweet. It’d be a selfless gesture and an act of service for him that would show how much love there was in our friendship. In this case though, it was anything but. 

For the six months that Spencer and Kayla had been engaged, the team was relentless in trying to end it. I tried to stay out of it in case all hell broke loose, but I couldn’t escape it. No - I was at the very center of it. 

Before Reid even knew Kayla existed, he was head-over-heels in love with me. He’d ask me on coffee dates, wait by my desk for me, and he would always try to sit beside me at the round table or on the jet. It was sweet, really, but it could never go anywhere. 

I was in a committed relationship with my high school sweetheart Patrick. (Maybe Spencer had a thing for unavailable girls).

I moved in with Patrick after graduating from college, and after years of working in the BAU (and years of Spencer loving me) Pat proposed. At first, being engaged brought me so much joy, but halfway into our engagement, something changed.

I was in Wisconsin, consoling a grieving widow. She was hysterical after I delivered the treacherous news of her husband’s gruesome murder. She eventually calmed down and proceeded to ask me about my engagement when she noticed my ring. I gave her the bare minimum, fabricated a couple things here and there, but then she asked me the million dollar question. 

“Are you in love?” Her eyes glimmered with hope. 

My immediate answer was a habitual “Yes, of course.” But after seeing how deeply this widow loved her late husband, I couldn’t say in good conscience that that answer was actually true. 

That night I went to the hotel and lied on the bed, praying for clarity. 

Perhaps I wasn’t actually in love with Patrick. Maybe we’d been together for so long that it just felt safe and comfortable and familiar. Maybe it was the fear of disrupting the arrangement of my life that stopped me from ending things sooner. 

The fact of the matter was that I’d only ever known a life loving him, but that didn’t mean I was in love with him. Maybe I was settling for something with Pat, because I wasn’t sure if I could have a better relationship with anyone else. With all these doubts, I needed a sign. 

A knock on the door interrupted my inner dialogue. 

When I opened it, who else was standing there, but none other than Rossi.

“We need to talk.” He ordered. 

He followed me back into the room and sat at the foot of the bed. He said he noticed something was off about me, and I admitted that there was. So that night, I took advice I probably shouldn’t have from the man with multiple failed marriages, but it was a sign - and it was good enough.

When we returned to Quantico, I asked Hotch for some personal time, which he was happy to permit. That same night I went home and broke off the engagement with Patrick. 

I felt despicably cold when I watched him tear up and ask me, “Why are you doing this?” 

There was truly no concrete moment in our relationship that incited my decision, but it was merely the realization that being with him wasn’t right, because how could I stand there watching him beg for a change of heart but still feel nothing? 

Maybe I was much less than not in love. Maybe I didn’t feel a thing for him at all. Not hate. Not empathy. Not love. Just . . . nothing. 

Completely indifferent. 

Within the week of personal time I took, I spent most of it moving into Rossi’s guest house. After I came back from work, it took all of two hours before someone brought up the absence of the ring that I used to never take off, and I’d assumed they’d already noticed it the moment I walked in - they were just too afraid to ask.

“I ended things with Patrick.” I casually stated, not even looking up from my portfolio to give it the attention it probably deserved. 

While the rest of the team’s jaws dropped on the floor, Rossi was fighting a smirk considering this wasn’t news to him and having seen everyone else’s reactions was a priceless moment for him. 

There was a brief moment of awkward silence on the jet as the team processed my information, until finally Hotch cleared his throat and started debriefing again. In the seat next to me, Spencer was very poorly hiding his enthusiasm. Hearing I broke off the engagement was like a green light to make his move. And honestly, it was. 

So I waited. 

And I waited. 

And I waited. 

Then I waited some more for him to jump at the opportunity. 

But he didn’t. 

He never did. 

Instead, he introduced Kayla into our lives, and eventually, they’d get engaged, too. 

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t developed feelings for Spencer while I expected him to act upon his palpable affection for me. And because of my newfangled feelings, I could never tell another soul that I sincerely believed Spencer got engaged just to spite me - to show me just how painful unrequited love was. 

The strangest part of it all, though, was that there was never a moment following the ending of my engagement and the birth of his own that showed me that his feelings went away. He never treated me differently or stopped talking to me. Even in the early stages of his relationship with Kayla, he continued to act like I was the only girl in his life. He was so consistent with his actions that it confused me.

Did he love me or not? And was I in love with him or not?

Evidently, the team seemed to have my answer. 

“He loves you and you love him. It’s as simple as that.” Prentiss explained curtly. 

Agreeing nods came from JJ, Morgan, and Garcia, who’d abducted me as soon as I exited the elevator that morning and snuck me into Garcia’s Bat Cave for an intervention. 

“We need to stop this wedding.” Garcia demanded. 

And since that glorious intervention, the team (minus Rossi and Hotch because Rossi seemed genuinely happy for Reid, and Hotch would definitely tell us it wasn’t our place) began trying to put a wedge in the relationship. I, however, made the smart choice not to be involved. 

If I was trying to get him to love me, why would I do something that would surely make him hate me like breaking up his engagement? Plus, the blind optimist in me believed that if I was actually meant to be with Spencer, it would happen regardless of Kayla. 

So anytime Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia suggested something, I refused to participate. I was able to steer clear of any wedding crasher shenanigans up until JJ’s “slow-dance” suggestion. 

If Reid knew the true intentions behind these dance classes, he surely wouldn’t be pleased, but clearly - he didn’t. Because when I walked out of the restroom and back to the table, Reid still had a huge grin that took up half of his face, making his eyes look nearly shut. 

“Thank you again for doing this.” Reid beamed. 

“Of course! What are friends for?” 

Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia exchanged satirical glances at my choice of words. 

What are friends for if not to purposefully set two people up in hopes of ending one person’s betrothal?

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

Later that weekend . . 

“Come in!” I called out, buckling the ankle strap of my heels. 

The door opened partially and then all at once to reveal the one and only. I peeked my head out from behind a wall that was obstructing my view of him, immediately noticing a bouquet of lavender wrapped in twine. 

“Oh my goodness, what is this?” I asked in pure delight as he handed me the pretty purple flowers. 

“It’s a thank-you gift for agreeing to help me.” His lips formed a thin straight line, which was his version of a smile. A smile I appreciated whenever I was lucky enough to have caused it. 

“They’re lovely, thank you.” I told him, hugging him briefly before fetching a vase from the kitchen to put them in.

“Oh, good, I’ll tell Kayla you liked them. She’s the one who picked them out.”

The glass vase nearly shattered the moment he said that, but luckily, my reflex skills spared the vessel.

How big of a fool was I for thinking that he gave me flowers out of the kindness of his heart because he knew lavender was my favorite? But then again I probably needed that brutal reminder of why he was here in the first place - for Kayla.

As I put the vase on the kitchen island, I spun around, brandishing a fake smile. 

“So we should probably get started. I don’t wanna keep you here for too long.” 

“There’s no rush. Kayla won’t be home until late at night.” 

I tried not to think of the potential innuendo that lied within his statement, but Spencer wasn’t type to be disloyal, and I wasn’t going to be the woman to make him such a person.

“You look really nice, by the way.” I heard him say from behind me, catching a whiff of his cologne that was intoxicatingly sweet.

I did my best to not take the comment personally and let it get to my head, but I’d be lying if it didn’t elicit any response. I smiled to myself, which thankfully, he couldn’t see since my back was towards him as he followed me into my backyard. 

“You smell different.” He added. 

“Good different?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Is it a new perfume?”

I furrowed my brows. “No, it’s the same one I’ve been using for years.”

“Interesting,” I could feel him taking in this information, and I could hear the gears in his head turning at an even faster rate to spit out more information. “Did you know that you pick your soulmate by subconsciously reacting to pheromones that transmit their genetic compatibility? Yeah, there’s a relationship between attraction and scent, which dates back to our primal instinct. So if someone smells appealing to you, even if you don’t know it, it could relate to your attraction to them and vice versa.” 

“Ah, then maybe I should consider changing my perfume to improve my love life.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I love the way you smell.”

In the back of my mind lied the unanswered question I neglected to voice, “But do you love me?”

When we reached the backyard, I heard him gasp in awe. 

“It looks beautiful, Y/N. You did great.”  

Nestled in my backyard was a dark wooden deck, surrounded by plentiful greenery. Lining the perimeter of the shiny wooden deck were asymmetrical rocks, while above us hung strands of fairy lights that cast a sheer golden glow on the entire scene. The ambiance was not for Spencer specifically, but I was happy that he appreciated it nonetheless. 

“You ready?” 

He signaled yes by putting his thumb up and so it began.

“Alright, so slow dancing can be broken into four easy steps, but first, you gotta know how to hold your partner correctly.” 

Spencer and I took a step towards each other, and I could feel the nervous energy radiating off of him. I tried not to call attention to it, so I simply continued with my process. Outstretching my arms to form a T with my body, I guided him verbally. 

“So I’m the follower. And you’re the leader. Got it?” 

He nodded. 

“Leader puts their right hand under the follower's left armpit and cups their hand around the follower's shoulder blade.” 

He understood my instructions, and in the most awkward manner possible, he fumbled his way into the right position, albeit, not perfect. 

“Now, hold my right hand as high as my eye level without raising my shoulder.” 

Spencer was glaringly anxious, so I gave him a word of encouragement. “Hey, don’t be nervous. It’s just me, okay? And you’re doing great.”

I could see the nerves beginning to settle, translating into the conviction with which he took my hand, raising it at the perfect height. 

“Great. Just like that.” 

My praise brought out that smile in him that only ever came out on rare occasions. The kind where it’s brief, his teeth showing, a light chuckle escapes him, and he’s looking down as if he’s too shy to look at me. 

“Okay, step two is basic footwork. Leader starts with their left foot and takes a step to the left. And then your right foot is going to meet your left foot and tap. The count is one-two.” 

I watched as Spencer tried to process what I was saying. 

“Do you want me to demonstrate first? And then you follow?” 

He nodded rapidly as if saying yes wouldn’t be enough to communicate how much he needed me to lead. We broke apart so that I could turn my back towards him. I felt a cold draft blow under my dress as I spun on the ball of my feet, making my skirt flutter upwards majestically. 

I felt him watching. 

“Alright, so I’ll start and then you can catch on. It goes one-two.” 

Left foot step. Right foot tap. 

“Then three-four.” 

Left foot step. Right foot tap. 

“Then to the right this time. Five-six.” 

Right foot step. Left foot tap. 

“Seven-eight.” 

Right foot step. Left foot tap.

“And back again. One-two. Three-four. Five-six. Seven-eight.” 

My eight count continued until the click of my heels on the patio was joining by the sound of Spencer’s feet shuffling behind me. I knew if I turned around to check on him, it would only psych him out and make him more nervous, so I stayed facing forward so he wouldn’t feel that I was scrutinizing his technique. 

After a minute or so of following me, I spun back around, catching his lingering stare in the region of my hips. He tried to play it off and pretend he wasn’t, but I felt it. 

“You did really well tonight. I’m proud of you. I think that’s a good place to stop for today.” 

He thanked me with another hug, the kind where we nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck. 

God, I could feel him breathing on my shoulder. 

I tried not to not to let myself indulge in it, reasoning that this was just a way for one friend to thank another, but I couldn’t help myself when the hug lasted longer than it should’ve. I tightened my embrace around him, drawing him in closer, and shutting my eyes as if taking my sense of sight away would heighten my sense of touch and magnify this feeling I never wanted to end.

“You take care, okay?” I said, rubbing my hand up and down his back to signal we should pull away, a signal he understood.

I was the first to walk away, merely because of the worry that I might sooner cry if I had to stay under these lights with him a moment longer. 

I wasn’t sure I could do this again unless he was mine. Otherwise, I’d just be under the stars, dancing with the love of my life that I couldn’t have - feeling that feeling again, and not being able to act on it. 

Is this what happens when your person loves somebody else?

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

I know I said I couldn’t do it, but I did it anyway. 

I guess that’s what love is. Doing things you don’t want to do because your care for the other person surpasses the discomfort. True love makes you do things like that, even if they aren’t in your best interest.

When he came over the next night, we danced again. Undoubtedly, he stumbled - even came close to falling - and yet, I fell in love all over again. After that, it got harder to separate dancing from my feelings. 

The next day, we had a case. He came to my hotel room and we danced in the dim golden light of the hotel room’s chandelier. God, it was so ambient and romantic, I think I fell even harder for him - if that was even possible. 

From then on, every time we were in the same place, he leapt at the opportunity to dance with me. 

“Guys, look what I learned last night! Come, Y/N! Come on, come on.” 

He waved me over eagerly with his hand, even helping me out of my seat in the round table just to speed up the process. All too excitedly, he assumed the leader’s position, and he danced me around the entire conference room in front of our coworkers. He spun me around the table, he dipped me in the doorway, he held me in his arms by the glass board. 

Can you really blame me for falling in love? 

“Wow, Y/N! I’m impressed. You really whipped him into shape.” JJ remarked with a clap. 

I hid behind a faux smile, but Spencer was too elated to recognize the deceit. He was like that now. Maybe love made him more of a fool, more naive and blissfully unaware, whereas love made me more devoted and cognizant. 

It went on like that for weeks. Practicing whenever and wherever we could. 

He’d pull me into the hotel lobby at midnight to dance - not even batting an eye at the looming presence of the receptionist. 

He’d ask me to come to his apartment and we’d dance in his living room or in the narrow hallway, just for fun. 

When we were at Rossi’s, he’d drag me to the kitchen, with Rossi’s gentle music playing in the background, and we’d sway by the fireplace sometimes. 

We danced once in the elevator when it got stuck. I never thought he’d be so fearless to do that, but he looked like he was genuinely enjoying himself, almost like he didn’t even notice we were stuck in an elevator. 

While we waited for the jet, we’d danced on the tarmac, looking like a moving bundle of clothes, our movements stifled by our thick peacoats, layers of clothes, and scarfs. 

After a dinner during cases, when we’d split a cab back to the hotel, he’d get me to dance on the sidewalk, even convincing me not to pay attention to the onlookers on the street, the honking cars, or the confused pedestrians. I was always embarrassed to be in the spotlight, but somehow with him, it was easy. It felt like it was just the two of us, dancing under that streetlight. 

I never understood why people wanted to live in a moment forever, but for the first time that night, I did. That was a moment I wanted to freeze in time. I wish I could’ve stayed there forever. There in that moment, it really felt like it was our own little world. It was easy to believe we’d end up together, and we were the ones getting married, and we were in love. 

But again, that was in that moment. In that singular, fleeting moment. And then life moved on, whether or not I was ready for it to. 

The day of rehearsals inevitably came, and I wasn’t originally supposed to be at the wedding rehearsal since I wasn’t part of the ceremony, but Spencer asked me to be there, deliberately neglecting to tell me that the reason he wanted me to come was so that I could fill in for Kayla, which had I known that, I would’ve certainly declined. 

When I walked in, the team was all there, sitting in the pews, with their heads turning to me where I was standing at the entrance of the church. It felt like an eerie nightmare that I was living out where I was Spencer’s bride walking down the aisle, and this was our wedding. I couldn’t tell you what was so nightmarish about it - probably because none of it felt right - but I was sick to my stomach when Spencer gestured for me to meet him at the altar. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Kayla had a last minute dress alteration in Norfolk and got stuck in traffic. She won’t make it for this rehearsal, but she’ll be there in time for the dinner rehearsal.” 

“So why am I here?” 

“I wanted to practice my vows on you, if that’s okay.” 

I gulped hard, trying to swallow the lump in my throat to open up my suddenly-closing airway. 

“Um, I don’t really know if -”

“Please, Y/N. I’m just nervous that I might mess up-”

How could I say no? True love makes you do crazy things, even if they aren’t in your best interest, right?

I reluctantly agreed. 

Spencer’s hands were trembling and I could see it by the way his notecards were shaking, even from the fact that he brought notecards alone, and that he didn’t already memorize his vows. I wanted to put my hands around his and hold them to settle his unsteadiness, but I knew that wasn’t my place. I figured my words would do a better job at not crossing a boundary that was already crossed.

“Hey,” I comfortingly whispered. “It’s just me, okay?” Calling back those words from the first time we danced months ago. “You don’t need those notecards. Just speak from the heart.”

And sure enough, his heart spoke. 

“When people used to tell me stories about what love felt like and what is what, they always said they fell in love with that person. Like it was sudden and all at once, but with you - I walked into love with you. With my eyes wide open, choosing to take each and every step along the way. I never believed in fate or destiny, but after I met you, I finally believed. I believed that we are only fated to do the things that we’d choose anyway. And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality. I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

My breath hitched as I got lost in his eyes and how they were looking right at me, completely unmindful of the way everyone around us saw how he spoke to me. 

I think he even got lost too, because what he said next, didn’t even seem to register in his mind before it came out of his mouth. 

“I love you . . . Y/N.” 

Gasps rang through the church, ricocheting off the high ceiling, and in that moment I knew, I knew he was going to kiss me. 

He lunged forward in the heat of the moment. Clearly not thinking straight, he held my face in his hands, and I swear to God, I could’ve kissed him back. 

I would’ve. 

“Spencer?” 

Every single head in the church turned toward the small voice, too distinct to misplace. 

“Kayla, wait!’ 

And there I stood, alone at the front of the altar, watching him run after her. 

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

I sat by my phone the entire afternoon, waiting for someone - anyone - to update me. No one ever ended up texting or calling, so I figured the dinner rehearsal wasn’t cancelled. At least, in that case, my dress didn’t go to waste. 

After spending an ungodly amount of time curling my hair and putting on my makeup, even achieving a smoky eye look, I finally slipped on my navy-blue, satin, floor length dress, donning nude heels and a dainty gold necklace with a single diamond pendant that laid right on my sternum. 

It was a shame that this was a moment where I should’ve felt at my prettiest, and yet, I’d never felt so ugly. 

I was riddled with the guilt of knowing I would’ve kissed Spencer if Kayla hadn’t walked in. I felt even worse that I was so consumed by his speech that I didn’t even hear her come in. 

How long had she been standing there? Long enough to watch what I knew everyone else saw? These questions never left me. Not even when I pulled into the site of the dinner rehearsal. 

Clutching the front of my dress to walk without resistance, I came to the entrance, and opened the door to reveal . . . nothing.

Staff was removing chairs and tables. 

Waiters were collecting plates and utensils. 

And Spencer was standing in the very middle of the empty room, watching it all happen silently, like he was just the shell of a man. 

“Spencer!” I called out from the entrance, in no hurry to meet him at the middle of the room. He turned on his heels, with his hands sheepishly shoved into his pockets. 

“Gosh, I’m sorry, Y/N. I should’ve called to let you know it got cancelled, but um, Kayla broke my phone.”

“Well, it’s time you got a new phone anyway.” I chuckled, which thankfully earned a chuckle from him, too. 

“What happened, Spencer?” My voice was quiet, as if it was any decibel higher it would sound more like a scold than genuine concern. 

“She, um, she told me she needed some time to think. And I, I told her to come to the rehearsal dinner if she still wanted to get married and,” He mirthlessly chuckled. “Well, you already know.” His words were chosen carefully to deliberately avoid what he hadn’t yet come to terms with. 

She didn’t come. 

I wasn’t yet sure whether or not to console him or to berate him for what he almost did, but I chose the former. 

“I’m so sorry, Spence.” 

He looked up from the ground, still managing to avoid my gaze, by looking up at the ceiling, and pretty much everywhere my face wasn’t. 

“I understand if you want to leave right now. I just need to pay the owner and I’ll be out of here.” 

I shook my head instantly. “No, I’ll be right here. If you want me to be.” 

He bit his lip to stop a sob from escaping. “Yeah,” He nodded, cowering his head. “I’d like that a lot.” 

As soon as I saw his cheeks get red, I took it as a cue to approach him and hug him. He was grateful for my compassionate touch, immediately opening up his arms to hug me back. His embrace around me was needy and desperate, and it felt like he was clawing at my dress, acting out of anger that the fabric was stopping us from being that much closer. 

With his shoulder digging into the spot right underneath my chin, it was hard to utter the words, “You look really handsome, by the way.” I said, finally acknowledging his light beige suit and white button up shirt. 

“Thanks.” I heard him mumble into my shoulder. 

“Kayla doesn’t know what she’s missing.” 

To my surprise, he didn’t recoil, flinch, or so much as react to her name. Instead, he simply pulled away, wiping the moisture under his nose, and straightening out his suit. 

“We should . . . we should probably talk about what happened earlier, right?” 

I sighed and shook my head. “Not if you don’t want to. We can save that conversation for another day.”

He looked appreciative of my avoidance, but I knew he wanted to talk about it. 

“Hey, excuse me,” He stopped a staff member by clutching their arm gently. “Do you mind, actually? Leaving two seats behind.” 

The staff member complied, doing as he said, and leaving two chairs behind, setting one right across from the other. I took my seat, and Spencer took his.

“I probably shouldn’t have spoken from the heart, huh?” He joked, finally seeing the humor in his situation. 

“No, it was good that you did.”

“You think so?”

“Definitely. I think Kayla would’ve appreciated it.” All too quickly he responded with, “I wasn’t talking about Kayla.” 

I was talking about you, his somber eyes said. 

I looked away from his gaze immediately, trying to find a reprieve from the conversation that I was doing my best to avoid. 

“It was a really good speech. It sounded so natural. Like something you knew by heart.”

“Something I knew by heart?” He didn’t seem to understand what I meant. 

“Yeah, some things we just know by heart. Like the lyrics to our favorite song, or a recipe, how to dance,” We both chuckled at the reference. “Or . . . how to love.” 

“Do you think we know who to love by heart or do you think we make that choice ourselves?”

“I think it’s both. I think we can’t control the person we’re meant to love. That, by some miracle, we’re handed this person that complements us better than anyone else. But I also think it’s our choice on whether or not we pick them. Maybe we aren’t willing to stand the test of time and wait for our person, so we don’t pick them and settle for someone else. Or maybe we do pick them and we live out the rest of our lives together. I think that’s what makes love so special. It’s a person choosing you over and over again.” 

Isn’t that what we all want? To feel chosen?

“And what if we make the wrong decision? What if we’ve met who we’re supposed to love, but we chose to love another?” His eyes were searching within mine for the words that I wasn’t saying out loud. Out of fear that my eyes might expose me to Spencer, I looked away. 

“I think -”

Spencer cut me off. “Look at me.” 

My head didn’t move, but I shifted my gaze just as he wanted.

“When two people are meant to be, nothing and no one can end them. They may get lost a time or two on their journey, but true, real love will always conquer. Nothing can compete with them. Others can only attempt to fill a void. And eventually, the two will be reunited. That’s the beauty of true love; you always end up with the right person, at the right time, regardless of any other factor.” 

Quiet fell upon us two after I said my piece. My breathing slowed down and the knot in my stomach came undone. The lump in my throat disappeared. 

All my bodily barriers broke down. There were no more emotional walls up between the two of us anymore. I was completely vulnerable - nothing to hide me. Not even my eyelids could hide the windows of my soul. Spencer had already seen into them. 

He saw my soul, my secrets. 

“Dance with me.” He extended his hand in the air between us two. With no hesitation, I accepted his offer and followed his lead. He’d never danced so naturally before. Somehow, his stiffness had withered away. The thick tension that used to loom in the air above us two dissipated. Something new replaced the contents of the atmosphere. 

Love. 

Unbounded. 

Unrestrained. 

Unbridled. 

Limitless love. 

Spencer drew me in closer so my head could lay on his chest. Previously, I was looking at his face, but now the view was of our connected hands. My fingers were intertwined with his, and I didn’t even notice how his thumb was rubbing small circles on the back of my hand until I saw it with my own eyes. 

Had he always done that, but I couldn’t feel it until I saw it for myself? If so, what else had he been doing that I couldn’t feel?

“Loving you.” 

I removed my head from his shoulder after hearing him answer the question that I pondered silently, wondering if suddenly just acquired the superpower of telepathy.

“What?”

“Loving you. That’s all I know how to do by heart.” 

A wave of relief came over me when I realized he hadn’t read my mind, he was just simply adding to our conversation from before. 

“That’s not true,” I mirthlessly chuckled. “There’s lots you know how to do. You know thousands of chess permutations, you know how to geographically profile - you know how to dance now.” I countered playfully.

He shook his head. “I know how to do those things, but sometimes, none of it makes sense. I used to lose matches against Gideon, sometimes the comfort zone is inaccurate, and until today, I couldn’t dance very well,” He chortled. “But loving you. That always made sense. It never failed me or disappointed me and it’s so all-consuming that if I try to love anyone else - it just doesn’t make sense.”

Of all the words in my vocabulary, each of them were failing me. I was rendered speechless. Spencer cleared his throat and looked away for a moment, before finding the nerve to say it. 

“I choose you.” He proclaimed. 

So, I was right. 

There are some things we know by heart. 

Lyrics to our favorite song.

A recipe. 

How to dance . . . how to love.

And who to choose. 

“I choose you, too, Spencer.” 

. . . So to answer my question from before, is life really that magical? . . . 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

#fluff #slowdance #spencer reid #spencer reid kiss #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #fem!reader #imagine #imagining in the margins #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #soft angst #spencer reid drabble #drabble #criminal minds one shot #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds drabble

[xreaderbooks]

Hidden (2)

Pair: Draco Malfoy x reader, Sibling! Harry Potter x reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Language, (unedited asf)

Summary: Draco has to prove his love for her, while Y/N deals with the effects of the breakup. 

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long, y’all have been waiting a while for this one. Anyway kinda rushed to finish. Send me any requests for Draco or any of the character you see on my master list, I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist - Part 1

"Prove it." Those words you spoke ran through Dracos head every time he saw you in the hall laughing with your friends, every time he had a class with you, every time he passed by the room of requirements. He lied awake on his bed each night missing your touch. Normally that would be the case considering the secrecy of your relationship but at least before he had memories of whatever lingered from the hours prior to when he was alone. He at least had that to hold on to. Now, thanks to what he admits are his cowardice-- he has nothing. He's alone without the one thing, the one person that made his miserable life mean something; you.

You weren't getting along any better. You tried to put up a front, knowing that you'd concern your friends and your brother. They obviously didn't know what was going on and they would be confused why your mood suddenly changed from blissfully happy to down and depressed. So you go on with your life as it would have been before your breakup with Draco or even before you had even gotten together with him in the first place. Cedric has been a big help in keeping your mind off of the platinum blond-haired boy, a good buddy is what you liked to call him when Harry asks what goes on between you and Cedric. At times you wish you would've liked Cedric as he liked you. Unfortunately, dark, brooding, and emotionally unavailable is your type.

A hand on your shoulder brought you back into reality, you forgot you were with Cedric sitting by the black lake. "Thinking about him again?" He asked.

"No." You lied, even though you knew that he knew you by now and that you most likely were thinking about Draco. He doesn't know that guy you were thinking about was Draco, he never pried. It's not like you're like this all the time either but the rare times you were, you would zone out, replaying certain memories when they came up with what you would be doing at the time.

"It's okay if you were."

"I wasn't."

"Alright, Alright, Whatever you say." He puts his hands up in surrender. You playfully shoved him.

"We should go back anyway, I have potions in 30 and it's a long walk." You motioned your hand so that he would follow you.

"Have you ever thought that maybe if you put a little pep in your step, you'd get to class faster?"

You shot him a glare. "First of all it's freezing, Snape is lucky I'm even showing up to his class at all instead of cuddled up in my bed with my warm blankets. Second of all if I put a 'pep in my step' I'll be out of breath." He chuckled.

"A bit of exercise could help with shortness of breath when walking y'know."

"How dare you suggest such an activity around me!" You stopped in your tracks putting a hand to your chest. "The word exercise personally offends me, sir."

Cedric stutters out an apology while laughing. "I-I am sorry Y/N, I promise not to mention your lack of physical fitness."

"That would be greatly appreciated." You let out a 'hmph' sound as you turned your back on him, continuing your trek to class.

~~~

A full day of classes had you exhausted and prepared to drop on your bed. You fought your eyes from closing as you walked back to your dorm. You hadn't even noticed you were bumped into someone while walking until you heard them shout, "Watch where your-" He paused noticing it was you.

'Fuck' you groaned internally. In your tired state, you forgot to go the other, longer way back to your dorm. It was a new system you set for yourself, instead of going the way you and Draco would usually walk through to get a glimpse of each other throughout the days you were together, you now walked the halls you knew he never liked to go through because of how it would be packed by students rushing to get to class.

You rolled your eyes at his attitude, you knew it wasn't meant for you. He gave you a once-over. You stuttered a quick apology moving away from him. He grabbed your wrist, you glanced at where he held his grip and to his eyes.

"Sorry." He muttered. "Can we talk?"

As much as you wanted to talk to him, you weren't mentally or emotionally prepared for this conversation. Your mind was racing with the different things he would say. Did he find someone else? Does he want to get back together and actually try? Or revert back to your old ways of sneaking around?

"I-"

"It doesn't have to be right at this moment." He leaned in to whisper in your ear. "How 'bout our usual time and place?"

"Fine." You yanked your wrist back from his grip and walked away from him.

~~~

Several hours later, you found yourself in front of the room of requirements, shaking your head you stepped inside.

"Alright, I'm here now what do you want?"

"You."

"You know I'm not yours anymore."

"Y/N you were always mine, let's stop this ridiculousness and go back to how we were before." He took a step towards you, you stepped back. You wanted to keep your distance, you didn't know how much restraint you had to keep yourself away from him. You knew being too close would lead you into his trap. He'd kiss you and tell you sweet nothings and you would believe them.

"I don't want to go back to the ways it was before!" You yelled, there were tears burning in your eyes. "You know what I want and if you can't give me that then we can't be together!"

"Y/N I can't do this without you-"

"Do what, Draco?" You wiped the stray tears that fell out.

"Live, I don't know how to live without you. Eating is a chore, sleeping knowing you're not in my arms is unbearable, in fact, I haven't slept since we broke up." You could see his eyes line with water. You willed yourself to not give in. You deserved a person who isn't afraid to love you in the open.

"I haven't either..." You allowed yourself to admit to him, then straightened yourself, your moment of weakness gone. "But it doesn't matter we can get past this and learn to live without each other."

"I can't, I won't."

"Then you know what you need to do," With that, you left.

~~~

The next day he approached your brother during lunch and asked to speak with him. You were nervous, this wasn't exactly how you thought the big reveal was going to go. But when Harry came back he didn't look angry but confused and suspicious.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked. You glanced back and forth between Draco over at the Slytherin table and Harry who was now, sitting back in his seat in front of you.

"He apologized for everything." Harry's brows furrowed.

"Shouldn't that be a good thing?" You questioned. Hermione shook her head 'no'

"He always has some other agenda." She wasn't entirely wrong. Maybe this was his way of trying, but he's mistaken if he thinks that just apologizing to Harry will have you running back. He would have to try harder, you would help him out a little bit by gaining Harry and the rest of the group's favor, as much as you could.

"Maybe he's trying to change."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, "That's what he said, he told me that he wanted to change and do better and apologized for everything he's done since our first year. Malfoy even gave me the answers to the History of Magic exam next class."

"Where'd he get those?" Ron asked with a mouthful of food. Hermione rolled her eyes, "It doesn't matter cause he's not going to use them. Right, Harry?" He shrugged.

"I might, I'm not exactly passing that class 'mione." She gave him a disapproving look and snatched the piece of parchment from his hand. "I could've helped you study, besides how do you know this isn't some sort of joke?"

"Does it matter? Pass it over, I need to get an outstanding before McGonagall writes a letter to Mum about my notes. I am not doing well this year." Ron answered.

"How about this, you use the answers that he gave you and if you pass then he really is trying to get better and if you fail he's just being a prick, yeah?" You suggested, you were sure that this was his attempt (one of many, you hoped) to get you back with him. If it was, then he was playing smart. Getting on your brother's good side first was a good idea.

In the days that passed, You, Harry, and the others were waiting for the results Malfoy continued to do good deeds for your group which made everyone suspicious. Even sending you flowers during days where when the mail came in with love notes. It was nice but those were secret, just for you and him although everyone knew you were being courted nobody knew by who. And when Harry and Ron had gotten their results back from Professor Binns, they passed. Hermione wasn't too thrilled about being wrong, Ron wanted to celebrate at the next Hogsmeade trip which was tomorrow. You all decided that you'd get butterbeer at the three broomsticks and would talk over what to do with Malfoy now that he's no longer bullying them.

When everyone went to bed, you found yourself using your dad's invisibility cloak to sneak off to the room of requirements. You were surprised to find Draco laying on the couch that always appeared, with his eyes closed. He looked peaceful and beautiful, his platinum blond hair standing out in the darkness of the room. His perfectly sculpted face, and oh how you missed kissing him on his soft lips.

"Starings at a person while they're sleeping is a bit odd, don't you think?" He sat up, you were startled by his voice and jumped.

"You're not sleeping anymore." You sat on the empty spot next to him. "Thanks for the answers, by the way, they were thrilled."

"Stole them from a Ravenclaw, they didn't seem to have use for them." You snorted at his reply of course he would. "What'd you think about the flowers?"

"My room now looks like a florist's shop by they were beautiful, thank you."

"I have to start somewhere." He shrugged. You had a small smile on your face, these were the things that you missed, what you loved about him and yes it was the bare minimum of effort but it used to be a lot more when you were together. People don't see this side of him, how he could be improper and make jokes that aren't all snide remarks at people. He's kind and sweet and considerate of the people he cares about. Your smile turned into a frown when you remembered why you broke up in the first place. He was considerate and cared about you but not enough to be with you in public and not care about what others say.

"I fucked it up but I'm going to try Y/N, It'll be a new start for us, I promise." He slowly eased his hand into your own, as if questioning if it was alright. And for the moment, it was.

You didn't notice that you had fallen asleep on the couch with Draco when you woke up. His arm underneath supporting your head, one of your arms were tucked into you while the other was wrapped around his waist. You took note of the position you were in and scolded yourself mentally. This was definitely not keeping your distance. Gladly this was the only thing that happened last night. You sneakily removed yourself from to so you wouldn't wake him up, picking up the invisibility cloak that laid on the ground and ran back to the common room, praying absence wasn't noticed. It was about 10 o'clock in the morning, you could tell by the sun shining and the number of students who were buzzing about the halls.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron weren't in the common room when you entered through the portrait hole after a fellow Gryffindor.  You let out a sigh of relief when you made it to your dorm, uncovering yourself from the cloak. You quickly got dressed in normal clothes for the day. By the time you went down, the others were sitting around chatting.

"Finally!" Ron exclaimed, "Now can we go?"

"Yes, Ronald." Hermione dragged Ron away. "So dramatic, we were only out here for 10 minutes."

Your trek to the small town of Hogsmeade was uneventful. You went to a couple of stores before finally sitting down at a table by the stairs at the three broomsticks. Ron and Harry went to go get drinks leaving you and Hermione at the table alone.

"Where were you last night?" She blurted out. You choked on your spit, you didn't expect that.

"What do you mean?" You asked after your coughing fit. She gave you a look that said 'seriously.

"I woke up in the middle of the night you were gone, when I woke up to wake the boys you still weren't there, and then all of a sudden you come down from girl's dorm as if you were there the entire time." She folded her arms across her chest, one eyebrow arched in the way she always did when she made a point. "I guess the question isn't where you were but who were you with?"

You knew your shock was giving you away and you tried to compose yourself, luckily the boys returned with the drinks. You took one out of Ron's hand and took a sip.

"That was mine but whatever I guess." He sat down next to Hermione. "Alright so when are we gonna talk about the new Malfoy?"

"We were having a good day without having to bring him up, Ron." Harry groaned.

"Well, your days gonna get a whole lot worse because he just walked in." Ron nodded his head toward the entrance. You sunk into your seat putting a hand over your face in hopes that he wouldn't see you.

Just as fate would have it he saw your brother and friends and came over to your table. "Good afternoon Weasley, Granger, Potters."

You all replied with awkward greetings, they were all obviously confused as to why he would come up to you guys and not immediately throw insults.

"I was wondering if I could have a word with Y/N?" He asked politely. Your eyes narrowed 'Oh fuck no'. You felt all their eyes shift to you, Hermiones especially a glint in her eye telling you that she knew the answer to her own question.

Just as you were about to answer, Harry interjected with a no, "Whatever you need to talk to her about you could say it in front of us. Your eyes widened, 'Merlin this day truly couldn't get worse'.

"Very well then, Potter would you allow me to take your sister out on a date?" You almost spit out your drink and slightly coughed when you swallowed. You looked between Harry's angry face and Dracos amused one. You assumed Harry was too shocked to respond, your nerves were all over the place waiting for him to say something.

"No." He said simply. Draco clenched his jaw while yours dropped at your brother's bluntness, Ron looked shocked and burst out laughing and Hermione was just sitting there watching this scene unfold. No seemed to be the answer of the day.

You shook your head. "So what I don't get a say?"

"I mean-" Draco attempted to respond but Harry cut him off.

"That's why you've been so nice recently, this was all some sort of plot to get to my sister, use her to get to me?" Harry stood up so he was face to face with Draco. "Listen here Malfoy, you can mess with me, try to humiliate me, get me into all sorts of trouble but the minute you bring my sister into this-"

"Harry calm down." You saw his wand peeking out through the sleeve of his hoodie.

"I can assure you this isn't some plot to get to you, I've fancied your sister for quite some time now." His eyes flickered between you and your brother. "I decided it was time I acted on it."

"Is he the guy that's been sending you flowers?" You pursed your lips debating on whether to answer or not, it seems like Draco was feeling bold today so he confessed that he was.

"I thought you were dating Cedric?" Ron interrupted, Draco rolled his eyes and Hermione smacked him over the head. "Of course not idiot!"

You chuckled, "No he's just a good friend."

"The timing just doesn't make sense." Harry tried to reason, "Malfoys never showed interest before and he's an arsehole." He spoke as if he wasn't standing right in front of him.

"He's a lot sweeter than you think!" you defended him.

"How would you know?"

"Because we were dating before!" Draco lost his patience. He was going to ask you out in front of Harry in hopes he'd say yes and ease him into the idea of being in a relationship with him. But at this point, with what happened last night he couldn't restrain himself from you anymore.

Hermione gasped. It appeared the whole Three broomsticks was quiet at the outburst. "I'm tired of hiding it. And I lost her because. I wanted to keep our relationship hidden so I've been trying to win back her affections. I can't deal with this anymore, Y/N you know this, You know how much I love you and you're right. Our love can't be hidden, not one like ours, so pure and powerful. It was wrong of me to hold us back because I was scared. I'm not anymore, clearly, please," He knelt down on one knee, something you never ever thought he would do in front of all these people. The most vulnerable part of him coming out. "tell me you still love me and you will take me back."

"Of course, I will." You brought him back up, grabbing his face and kissing him. Cheers were heard all around you. This was all you wanted.

Tags: @thescarletknight2014​ - @with-my-soul-and-heart​ - @idkatee​

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #harry x draco #draco fluff #draco x you #draco smut #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter #harry potter x sister reader #ron wealsey #Hermione Granger #cedric diggory #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory x reader #the goblet of fire #Slytherin x Gryffindor

[dash-the-guitar-ghoul]

Ghost OC Week Part 2 and 3

April 4th - Connections - Are they related to any canon characters? Are they in any relationships with a canon character? Do they have any enemies? Are they related to someone else’s oc?

April 5th - Beginnings - Where and how did their story start? How did they find the clergy? Were they summoned?

Hello again!

Shit has been busy here at the clergy so I missed a day. Doing these ones together instead.

Let me start with how I came to earth. You are already aware that I had a bad summoning. Well, what I didn't add before was that it also caused me to forget everything from my past. I didn't have a name, no family, nothing. I was luckily not reduced to an infant, but it was still really hard. I was luckily able to regain my memory recently, but I went a lot of years not knowing anything about my past. To be honest, I think not having a family or memory of my life contributed to how I acted in the beginning, but I basically consistently ended up getting involved with chronically unavailable people out of sheer loneliness. The first was Dewdrop. 

He was just my boss at first. He found me when I randomly picked up his guitar while thinking I was alone in the music room. I didn't even realize I could play but it came to me just as naturally as breathing, I just didn't remember I could play. When he heard it, he asked for me to be his tech immediately. I still had to relearn some things, but he trusted me and me only because I was the only one that he thought was on his level of skill, which was apparently important to him.

We eventually hooked up after getting drunk one night. Unfortunately for me, to Dewdrop, I was just a good fuck. I thought for a minute that I might have had feelings for him, but once I realized I didn't mean much to him, I wouldn't let him fuck me anymore. He's grown up a bit since then but, it still hurt. 

There are also a few other people in my past that, unfortunately, is going to have to be saved for another day. 

But...moving on!

I don't have any family in the clergy, but Copia…excuse me I'm still not used to it, Papa, has been like a father to me for not long after I was summoned. He helped me when I started to work in the library and helped me whenever he could to teach me English as well. He even gave me my name when he saw me running for fun one day and even encouraged me to compete in some clergy competitive races, which I fucking smashed of course!

Apart from him, the person that I am closest to has to be my love, my life, my darling, my Swisstopher…or Swiss like everyone else knows him. 🤣

We met through the Ghost band project obviously, considering I ended up as Dew's tech. But..we were purely aquatintences for a long time and barely noticed each other, not that I didn't think he was attractive, I just always assumed he was unavailable or not interested. But, one, unfortunately, somewhat tragic day when Copia got in trouble and was forced to leave us for a time, Swiss and I got into an argument about what we should do about it. Let's just say I was having none of it and was practically planning to burn everything down in rebellion. Swiss basically had to yell some sense into me and for a few days after, I spent a bunch of time trying to get him to forgive me. We eventually agreed to get out off the church grounds for a bit to just hang out. I bought dinner as an apology. Somehow, while we were strolling in the park, he suggested giving me a blow job. I was.. pretty fucking shocked! It hadn't even occurred to me that he was attracted to me at all. However, nothing changed much after that until one night in the church's music room. I was practicing a song I was writing and was having trouble with some lyrics and asked Swiss to join me for some advice. I kinda wanted to see him anyway since he hadn't left my mind since the park. We talked SO much that night! I don't think I had ever felt so comfortable around someone in my whole life. We even sang a song together. By the end of the song, I think the both of us were feeling a connection like nothing else before so…we kissed. Recalling it now, even though it was technically our first kiss, (we didn't really bother in the park) it felt like I had been kissing this beautiful man my entire life. 

He made me his mate that same night. Anyone else might have said it was rushed..it was like having a shotgun wedding Vegas or something, but when you meet your soulmate, there's no reason to wait. We've been together since and I've never been happier!

Art by @sushiwestern

#ghostbcocweek2022 #ghostbcfandomevents #the band ghost #ghost band #the band ghost oc #swiss army ghoul #swiss ghoul #swisstopher #multighoul #multi ghoul

[wandsandwheezes]

Inconspicuous | G.W

T/W // Ouid content, kissing and suggestive content but no actual smut it doesn’t even really get too spicy

Summary // 2.5k // Reader is Ron’s best friend and George is absolutely 100% in love with her and has been crushing for a while, Ron attempts to be inconspicuous and get inside info from his best friend for his brother but we all know how Ron is.

A/N - big surprise i’ve simped again and i’ve written yet ANOTHER George fic. massive thank you to @witch-and-a-half​ for her ADORBS request bc she has inspired me not only to write ouid content but ron content so i luvvv her sm🧡🧡

taglist; @weasleysflowr​ @theweasleysredhair​ @whiz-bangs78​ @hufflepuffgirly​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ 

If there was one thing that Ron wasn't good at, it would have to be subtlety. It was painfully obvious how much he liked Hermione to everyone else before he'd even come to terms with it himself. This all ran through George's head as he toyed with the idea of trying to get his baby brother to set him up. 'This is a terrible idea' he thought, but the words had already started spilling before he could stop himself. 

George watched you teaching his twin and Ginny how to play a muggle card game, something that you were disturbingly good at, so good that George was convinced you were using a charmed deck whenever you would play with friends or whenever you showed a card trick. The aspect of teaching a wizard to do a magicians trick was what made you love cards so much. "She's great isn't she." George mused. 

"I'd say so, just don't let her convince you that she hasn't charmed the deck," Ron laughs as he works on polishing his and Harry's broomsticks ready for the return of quidditch season. George's eyes snapped back to his brother, out of his trance. "Yeah, I'm surprised someone as great as her is still single." He hoped Ron would catch his drift but the ever oblivious boy shoved off the comment. "I know why she's single, She's great, a catch even and she's my best friend but, bloody hell, the guys she dates are such pricks." 

"oh…" George's heart sank a little, He knew this was a long shot trying to get his brother to set him up, because you and Ron were the closest thing to twins, besides sharing a womb. He thought maybe he could just grow a pair and ask you out himself but that seemed like such a bad idea to the poor boy. "Well, hypothetically, If she were to date someone who you already knew, say quite well, I'm sure you'd be happy for her, no?" 

Ron laughed a little, "I see you, trying to be Fred's wingman, test the waters and see how I'd react." George punches his brother's arm, shaking his head before dropping his voice to a whisper. "No, you blind bat, I mean me. I like her."

"why didn't you lead with that?" Ron goes to walk over to her, but George stops him in his tracks, pulling him back so they're standing in front of each other. "No, wait, wait, stop. You can't make it obvious like that." Ron sighs, rolling his eyes, "what do you suppose I do then?" 

"I'm not asking you to set us up or anything, just, I don't know? See if she's interested." Ron looks over to you, catching your eye, you smile over to the boys, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before instructing fred on a good game move. "I think you'd be good for her, looking at it."

"what do you mean by that?" he was prying now, "Her last relationship was, well, not brilliant. Ravenclaw guy, really stuck up and super uptight about everything, I swear he was a lousy git and didn't take care of her, but she was infatuated with him, god knows why." 

"I see, you know, I've had a crush on her since I was like 14 right?" Ron's jaw dropped, looking at his brother quizzically, "wow, I wouldn't have known." God, he was blind, if not blind, just blissfully unaware if what's going on around him. "Well, leave it to me, big brother!" 

There's been things George would do over the last few years, that to you were just small acts of kindness from someone you'd known your whole life; Picking up things you'd dropped, reaching top shelves, helping with hard potions papers, him teaching you how to smoke - but to him he's been flirting with you non stop. He'd never seen anyone or anything compare to your beauty. 

Later on in the evening George passed by you in the kitchen, hand pressed to the small of your back, he looked down at you with a smile, his whole stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies. You both stayed there a moment longer than usual. George's scent was heavenly, and you'd never admit it but it was a smell you knew you could get drunk off of. 

Ron noticed the interaction between you two, watching as George exited the room, to head out to join his twin in the shed for the evening's activities "Hey, Y/N mind helping me with the snacks, that is if you're joining George, Fred and I tonight ." you giggled, walking around the long table to join him, "Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world, Ronniekins. What do you need me to do?" 

He instructed you in what snacks needed grabbing, packing them into a bag, ready for the night, making sure to grab some water and the blankets from the airing cupboard. "So, uh… How's things with Marc was it? Or Marv?" you rolled your eyes, "Let's not, god we haven't spoken at all this summer. At this point I think you'd make a better boyfriend than he ever will." 

He laughed, swinging the bag over his shoulder picking up the bottles, "Well, I may be unavailable romantically-" he starts, before you cut him off "and Emotionally." Ron rolls his eyes, with a huff, "Riiiight, however, George and Percy are always available." His eyes were scanning your face for a reaction, "Oh, Percy, my favourite!" you giggle, the sarcasm evident in your tone, you're gathering the blankets into your arms before you ponder on it. "Well, Not that you'd like to know, because he is your brother - but my god George smells amazing, I definitely would if I had the chance." 

"Blimey, Really, Y/N? That's fantastic!" Ron slips up slightly, he's fucked it, it's so obvious now and he tries to cover it up, but you're just as oblivious as he is most of the time. "Fantastic?" you prod, Ron was your best friend after all and you sensed something was up. "Oh, well you know how I feel about your taste in Men, I think George would be good for you, like you said, he is my brother I could always strangle him if he's a dick." You head out towards the shed, the bitter cold from outside making you glad you'd brought the blankets. "Like George would ever want to date me, Ron!" you laugh, pulling the blankets close to your chest. Ron laughs along with you, nervously but glad he hadn't blown his Brother's cover. 

"Evening Boys!" you chirp, closing the door to the shed quickly to try and salvage some warmth. "We come bringing gifts." Ron adds, swinging the bag down off his shoulder and onto the floor, "Actually, damn, I left the good shit in our room, George." Ron widens his eyes, seizing the opportunity to give you and George a moment together, "I'll come with you Fred, I want to grab my hoodie." you speak up, grabbing Ron's wrist before he leaves, "Can I borrow one please?" you pout up at him, he laughs shaking his head, jokingly brushing you off with a "No…" smiling a fake smile. 

Ron looks over to George, mouthing a 'she likes you' behind your back praying that you don't notice, pointing at you and making a heart with his hands before pointing then at George, like some really piss poor attempt at charades. George however takes the hint, moving a couple of the pillows on the sofa he's sat on so that you can join him. 

It wasn't as if it was awkward between you and George but, now you were alone together, you felt the new tension. A part of you had to admit that you were attracted to him, after all he looked incredible, muscly biceps, veiny forearms and big hands, his hair was still long, with an effortless wave to it. You already craved his scent, but did you crave him too? 

His eyes were on you, he couldn't help but fall a little harder every time he saw you in blue, it was his favourite on you. "You look beautiful," He spoke up, smiling at you "Blue really suits you." He tried to act casual but awkwardness seemed to be taking over, he was hardly able to express himself. "You know, you're not too bad looking yourself, George. What I would do for a man like you." you sigh, reminding yourself that you're returning to hogwarts single after yet another failed relationship. 

"Why want someone like me when you could always have the real deal." He joked, you scooted a little closer to him looking into his eyes, his hand rested on your knee as you moved in closer to him, his eyes were flicking between your lips and your eyes and for a moment you felt it. The Spark. He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a quick kiss. 

It was enough for you to realise why Ron had been acting so weird and suddenly you'd realised just how hard you'd been crushing on the twin in front if you. He was truly phenomenal, you were about to lean in for a second kiss when the door swung open again. Ron and Fred return, the former, tosses a hoodie at you, "I couldn't find another one so Fred grabbed this off George's bed." 

"You don't mind, do you, Georgie?" you spoke innocently, looking into his eyes. The use of the nickname as it rolled off your lips, was enough for his stomach to be in knots, "Of course not, angel." He smiled softly, of course it had to be the navy one, he was growing frustrated but nevertheless he was playing into the innocence. Ron had told Fred about the plan to get you two together tonight, to which the older twin was elated, ready to see his brother shut up about being so lonely. 

You'd started the night early, meaning that by 11:30 you were all absolutely stoned, you'd ended up with your legs tangled with George's, and his thumb rubbing circles onto your thigh. You'd been pouting, asking him to help you with the bong. He was already whipped. The higher you both got, the less you both seemed to care that you weren't alone, George finally presses another a kiss to your lips. The small, gentle kisses, had turned into delicate touches, Ron notices just how close you both were to each other, oddly recognising that same feeling when he saw Dean kissing Ginny, but he wasn't sure if it was you or George he was meant to be protective of. 

You'd dozed off on George's chest, his fingers playing delicately with the ends of your hair, "I think we'll leave you two here then. I'm baked and ready for bed, what about you, Fred?" Ron looks over to his older brother who is taking a final hit, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "Mmm, yeah I could do with some alone time to work on some products." he adds, the two boys gathering their things and heading swiftly out of the room, not before Fred winks at is twin, causing George to flip him off with a small laugh. 

You looked like an angel, asleep on his chest, he truly was In love with you, even if you weren't with him. He started to overthink, about what a life with you would be like, how beautiful you'd look underneath him, how you would take his breath away as you walked down the isle. He was more than head over heels, his full body was falling deeply in love with you, and yet a life with you was so close, he could taste it.

Only in your dreams did you ever imagine falling asleep on George's chest. Your fantasies of him being a gentle caring boyfriend, overwhelmed you. You hadn't really ever thought about how much you craved the smell, the touch and now the taste of a boy you'd known your whole life. You'd been searching for something perfect but it was always there for you at home, waiting for a moment with you. 

When you found yourself awake again, you'd noticed the other two boys had left, leaving you and George cuddled on the sofa, you didn't want to leave. He had you, hook, like and sinker and all he'd done is kiss you. "hello, sleepyhead," he joked, his hand rubbing small circles on your lower back. You smiled wide "Hi, Georgie," you murmured, still waking yourself up, you realise you're still quite high and looking into his bloodshot eyes you knew he was too. 

He drew you in for another kiss, but this time, he didn't hold back, his hand was pressed against your jaw, inticing you in more. Small pecks turned to longer kisses, causing you to swing your leg over his thighs so that you were straddling his hips. One of his hands were now on the small of your back, while the other had tangled in your hair, this move had meant that the kisses had now turned to a full make out session. The way you'd kissed each other was full of passion, and Merlin was George good with his lips, it was the best kisses you'd ever had. 

When things started to heat up, he stopped himself, he didn't want to treat you like a fling, something that happened when you were both high. "Wait, Y/N, I don't want this to be a one night thing. I want all of you, for well, as long as you want me."

Your heart sank when he'd pulled away and you thought that maybe he'd regretted doing this with you, you went to apologise before his words actually set in, did he actually want you? "You want to be with me?" you ask softly, your forehead pressed against his, hands still running through the hair at the back of his head. "More than you'll ever know," he admitted. "finding someone like you makes me the luckiest man alive."

You giggle, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. "Who would've known you were such a sappy man?" his arms wrap around your waist, flipping you over so that he was hovering over you, causing a laugh to rip through your vocal chords. "I can do less sappy and a bit rougher if you'd prefer" he murmurs suggestively, pressing kisses along your jaw, his hands traveling up your arms until your hands are pressed against each others, fingers lacing together.

This morning when you woke up, kissing George was the last thing on your mind, now it's the only thing you can think of doing. He said he was the lucky one but truly you felt luckier, you had someone who would do anything for you, and to think it was all Ron's (very capable) doing. 

On your wedding day, six or so years later, Ron thought it would be a good idea for his Man of Honour speech, to tell everyone the story of how he set up his best friend with his brother. The speech ended with you both in tears at how now his best friend was his Sister In law and that he was glad you finally found a decent taste in men.

#george weasley fic #george weasley #george weasley x reader #fred and george #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter fic

[flourgirl]

Even If It’s a Lie

Part I to “Even If It’s a Lie”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter drags you to one of his frat parties, and you realize something you should have a long time ago.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: SO much angst, and lots of pining from Y/N. A couple swear words here and there.

A/N: I liked writing the first one so much that I couldn’t stop when it came to this one! Enjoy :-)

“This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye” -The Last Time, Taylor Swift

“Pete, I don’t know about this…” you said, looking yourself up and down in the mirror. You looked like a completely different person in the short burgundy dress that MJ had picked for you. The shiny satin contrasted with your dirty, white sneakers that hadn’t seen the light of day since you played tennis in the 9th grade.

“Trust me,” MJ had said when she was choosing your outfit earlier that day, “You don’t wanna wear any shoes that you actually like to a frat.”

“Why can’t you go with him again?” you whined, wishing Peter had somebody, anybody else, to accompany him to his “induction ceremony” into Sig Ep. 

“I don’t think I’m what any of those frat guys meant when they said ‘Bring a hot girl’. Plus, you were Peter’s first choice,” MJ replied, nonchalantly biting her nails as you held the dress up to yourself. “That’s the one.”

“I’m not hot,” you sighed as you started to hang the many rejected dresses spread across your floor back onto the rack. “I wore a sweater with a cat on it yesterday. That I hand-knitted.”

“Well... you’re cute. And that’s good enough. Plus, you can keep Parker from getting plastered. You know he’s a lightweight,” MJ laughed, reminding you of the many times Peter had called you to pick him up from a late night of partying.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you sighed, still worried about the fact that you did not like parties. Or strangers, or crowds, or really anything that involved socializing with more than four people at a time. Peter had been the same way all throughout high school. That’s what made you guys so close, but... things hadn’t been the same since you started college.

Peter ran from the other room, smoothing the wrinkles out of the gray t-shirt that fit him just right. You saw him grin from behind you in the mirror’s reflection, and he placed his hands on his shoulders, jostling you lightly.

“Y/N! Are you excited! It’s your first college party!” he exclaimed, spinning you around to look him in the eyes. You stared down at your feet, self conscious over how short you felt in your sneakers next to him.

“That’s not true. I’ve been to parties before! Ned’s birthday was just last month,” you reminded him. “Don’t you remember how you watched me bake a cake from scratch and your only ‘contribution’ was eating the buttercream?”

Peter laughed, ruffling your hair like you were his little brother. “No, Y/N, I meant a real party. With booze and music that’s so loud that you can’t hear what someone is saying. That kind of party.” 

Your brows furrowed as you began to fully accept that Peter had changed. So, so much. He wasn’t the dorky kid from Queens that carried your books and watched your favorite animated movies with you just because anymore. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

It didn’t take his spidey-senses for Peter to realize how upset he had made you. “Y/N, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean it like that. I just want you to experience everything college has to offer.”

“I think you do that enough for both of us,” you muttered, plopping dramatically onto the couch. Peter followed you, running his fingers gently across your arm as you pouted into a throw pillow. “Couldn’t you have asked any other girl to participate in your frat’s misogynistic tradition?”

“I didn’t want to ask anybody else,” Peter replied. You sat up to look at him, fixing your hair and smoothing out your dress. “I promise, Y/N. I miss you. We never hang out like we used to.”

You rolled your eyes. “And whose fault is that? You’re always—”

“—it’s mine. I know that. So, just come with me tonight and let me make it up to you,” he pleaded, pulling out his signature puppy dog eyes that you could never say no to. “Come on. All you have to do is say the word and we can leave, okay?”

“Okay.”

----------------

Your nerves worsened the closer you got to the frat houses, not mentally prepared for how loud the music would be or all of the sweaty bodies that would inevitably be pressed against you on the dance floor.

As you approached Sig Ep, Peter gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. He looked deep into your eyes, “Y/N. I meant what I said. All you have to do is tell me that you’re ready to go and we’ll leave.”

“You promise?” you asked, chewing on your lip.

“Promise,” Peter smiled, holding out his pinky to intertwine with yours.

Some tall, buff guy was standing at the doorway and greeted Peter with a fist bump. “Hey, Parker! Good work with the dime! She got a boyfriend?” You recoiled at his attitude towards you. It was as if you weren’t even there.

“Nah, Ryan. She’s off limits.” Peter replied coolly, pulling you inside.

You heard Ryan wolf-whistle from his post, causing you to roll your eyes. “Hell yeah! Didn’t know little Petey had it in him!”

Peter wrapped his arm around you, partly to make you feel better, but also because there wasn’t much space for you two to squeeze your way into the kitchen. “Just ignore him,” he said, handing you a red plastic cup, a bottle of Sprite, and a shot glass of vodka. 

You peered up at him, unsure. You weren’t much of a drinker, but maybe, just maybe, it would help you ease up on your nerves. Swirling the liquids together into the cup, you downed it before recoiling from the burn. Cheap vodka sucked, you remembered.

“That’s my girl!” you barely heard Peter say from right next to you, feeling him patting your back before he did two shots himself, swallowing them as if they were water. “Come on, I have some people who’ve been dying to meet you.”

The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy. He had called you his girl. You gripped his hand tightly as he led you down the hallway and onto the back patio, where a group of people sat crowded around a bonfire. 

A girl with bleach blonde hair and a dark green dress that hugged her figure came running up to the two of you, practically jumping into Peter’s arms as she greeted him. “Peter! I’ve been waiting for you. Come on, you can sit next to me.” 

She pulled Peter towards the bonfire, patting the empty spot on one of the benches next to her. Peter turned to nod at you, gesturing for you to follow them. Once again, it felt like you were invisible to almost everybody at this party.

The blonde girl leaned close to Peter’s face, giggling with an obvious drunkenness. “So, who’s your little friend?” she asked, waving her fingers towards you like you were some kind of pet.

“This is Y/N, my best friend.” Friend. That’s all you’d ever be to him, especially when there were girls like her around.

“Hi, Y/N! I’m Gwen. Gwen Stacy. Peter and I met in our thermodynamics class last semester,” she smiled, showing off her perfectly white teeth. “You should’ve seen him! He made everything look so easy.” You already knew that. Peter could do anything he set his mind to.

“Yeah...” you mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with her bright, gray eyes, which matched Peter’s shirt. “So, uh, who are you here with?”

“Oh, duh!,” she said before tapping the guy on her left’s shoulder, pulling him out of the conversation he was having with the people next to him. “This is Harry Osborn. We go way back. Harry, this is, uh…”

“Y/N,” you reminded her.

“Right! Y/N. She’s Peter’s friend,” Gwen told him. He nodded his head and offered a small wave before returning to his conversation. Of course, you thought to yourself. Peter had only asked you to come with him tonight because she was unavailable.

You stared back down at your stupid shoes as Peter and Gwen talked about titrations and bond solutions. Things that you knew nothing about. Was this why Peter was always out at parties? To see her? 

You thought about Peter’s promise. Just tell him, you thought. Tell him you want to leave. But you knew that you wouldn’t. You knew that you couldn’t ruin Peter’s fun just because you decided to be a baby and get scared after just thirty minutes into your very first frat party.

Looking back up at Peter and Gwen, who now had her arms draped around his neck, you excused yourself to the restroom, wherever that was. You just needed a break. Peter nodded towards you before turning back to smile at Gwen.

----------------

A banging on the bathroom door startled you. “Hey, uh, could you, like, HURRY UP? I have to take a piss,” a boy yelled from the other side. You got up from the edge of the bathtub that you had been sulking on for the past five minutes to open the door.

“Oh. Sorry, Y/N. Didn’t know it was you.” It was Flash Thompson. Flash, the guy who had made Peter’s life a living hell in high school. “God, you look good. Hey, how’s about you waiting out here for me and we could, you know, catch up?” He winked at you and you wanted to throw up.

Your first instinct was to say no. How could you give Peter’s bully the time of day? But you thought about Peter and Gwen. Gwen. Gorgeous and smart and better than you in every possible way, who was probably sitting in Peter’s lap by now and running her fingers through his hair. Your heartbeat quickened as rage rushed through your body. You wanted to hurt Peter, like he had hurt you. “Yes,” you replied, before he slammed the bathroom door in your face.

One minute later, you were pulling Flash down the stairs and towards the backyard. “You washed your hands, right?” you asked, desperately hoping that the answer would be yes.

“Don’t worry, babe. I just peed. Everyone knows that as long as you don’t get it on your hands you’re all good,” he mused. “You use less water that way, too. Save the planet, am I right?”

You dropped his hand, mentally rolling your eyes, and continued trudging towards the bonfire. You watched as Peter turned to smile at your reappearance, which swiftly dropped once he saw who you were with. It seemed like Gwen had backed off when you were gone too. Was this some kind of weird, territorial act that she was putting on to prove that Peter liked her and not you?

Maybe you were overthinking, but it was too late to backtrack. You sat back down on your place next to Peter, the awkwardness thick in the air. Flash had decided to squeeze himself between the two of you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

Peter leaned forward and shot you a dirty look, which you immediately recognized as his “What the fuck, Y/N?” face. 

A familiar voice boomed from behind, and you turned around to find Ryan had finally tapped out of bouncer duty to join the festivities. “Who’s ready for Truth or Dare!”

Shit. You hated truth or dare. Peter knew that. Ever since you had been dared to kiss Tyler Rosado in the 7th grade and he laughed right in your face before flat out rejecting you, the game had become a sore spot.

But you looked at Peter, who was cheering alongside the rest of the group, excited as ever to participate in the game that you swore you’d never play again. He doesn’t care, you thought to yourself, not like he used to.

You felt a vibration from your pocket and scrambled to pull your phone out of your jacket. Well, Peter’s jacket. The one he had let you wear on the way here because you were cold. It was a text from MJ. 

“How’s everything going?”

“Not good”, you replied, adding multiple sad face emojis at the end of your message.

“What did that idiot do this time?,” she asked. It was like you could hear her “I’m so going to beat Peter up for this” voice through the screen.

“I’ll tell you when I get back,” you sent, before locking your phone and sliding it back into the jacket pocket.

“Alright, alright, alright. So, who’s up first?” You heard Ryan ask, remembering the terrible event that was taking place right before you. “Hey! Gwen, how about you do us the honors?”

“Of course!” she chirped back. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“I know you are,” Ryan laughed, causing the crowd of people to whoop and holler around you. “So, truth or dare.”

“Definitely dare,” she slurred, taking another sip from her beer.

“Who’s got a dare for pretty, little Gwen here? Anybody?” Ryan asked, looking around the backyard.

Flash raised his hand. Fuck. Why did you think that it would be a good decision in any way, shape, or form to bring him with you? 

“Gwen, I dare you to make out with the hottest guy here!” he giggled, obviously thinking that she’d pick him. What a dumbass.

She smirked, before turning to Peter. “Gladly,” she said as she moved to press her lips against his. You struggled to watch as they made out right next to you, much to both you and Flash’s dismay. It felt like it had been going on for forever when they finally stopped sucking each other’s faces and the crowd’s cheers died down.

That was it. That was the last straw. You got up from where you were sitting and headed back towards the front door, having had enough of frat parties for the rest of your miserable life. Peter probably wouldn’t even notice that you were gone.

You felt hot tears fall down your cheeks as you stumbled out onto the sidewalk, calling MJ as fast as you could. “Could you come get me,” you managed to choke out. “This—this was a mistake. Please, just come get me.”

MJ asked for your address and let you know that she’d be by in a couple of minutes. You plopped onto the front steps, emotionally and physically exhausted from all that Peter had put you through tonight. 

A few minutes later, MJ’s car pulled up in front of Sig Ep, and she ran out to hug you, gently rubbing your back to get you to stop crying. “Where is he?,” she asked angrily, glaring towards the frat house. 

You pulled her back, sniffling at her, “Don’t. I just want to go home.”

“Fine. I’ll deal with him later,” MJ said, before the two of you got into her car and drove back to the apartment that you shared. Upbeat pop music played on the stereo, which you promptly shut off, preferring to mope with your head on the windowsill, staring out at the cloudy night sky.

MJ unlocked the front door, and you were greeted by Ned and Betty sitting on the living room floor around a Monopoly board. Betty was obviously winning, and Ned was almost bankrupt. 

“Y/N!” Betty squealed, getting up off the rug to hug you. “Oh my god, what happened?”

“It was Peter,” MJ muttered, shooting daggers at Ned.

“What!? I can’t control him,” Ned tried to reason. “Y/N, on behalf of my idiot roommate, I’m sorry for whatever he did this time.”

“It’s okay, guys. I just really want to go to bed, okay?” you told them, heading towards your bedroom.

You kicked off your sneakers and threw Peter’s stupid jacket, which smelled just like him, onto the chair in the corner, plunking yourself face first into the mattress. Ned, Betty, and MJ stood in your doorway, watching the entire thing.

“Yeah… I don’t think she’s okay,” Ned whispered, loud enough for you to hear.

Betty hit him on the head. “Ow!,” Ned replied, rubbing his temple from where she had flicked him.

“Will you all just shut up and leave me alone!?,” you screamed, startling your friends.

“Yeah, of course. Just tell us if you need anything, Y/N. We’ll be right outside,” MJ reassured you, before shutting your door behind her.

----------------

You woke up the next morning to the smell of blueberry pancakes and maple syrup wafting throughout the apartment. Dragging yourself to the bathroom, you wiped away the leftover makeup from last night and brushed your teeth, ready to forget about everything that had gone wrong yesterday.

“Good morning, Y/N!” Betty sang from the stove, placing yet another pancake onto the already towering pile before sliding the plate in front of you. “They’re for you. Blueberry, with a little bit of cinnamon, just like how you like ‘em!”

You managed to give her a weak smile, before digging into the breakfast she had so lovingly prepared for you. “Where’s MJ,” you asked, knowing that she would never still be asleep past 7 a.m.

“I’m not supposed to tell you…” Betty answered, obviously trying to deflect from wherever their roommate was. “Apple or orange juice?”

“Apple,” you replied. “No, seriously, Betty. Where is she?”

Betty placed the glass next to your plate of pancakes. A heavy silence hung all throughout the kitchen as you realized the only place that MJ could be right now. She was going to kill Peter.

“Oh my god!” you screamed, scrambling to pull your shoes on and running out the door. Betty mentally cursed herself out for not being able to keep a secret, chasing after you down the stairwell.

“Y/N! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop! Please, MJ is just looking out for you!,” she panted from several stories ahead. Betty had no idea when you had gotten so fast.

“Don’t care! He’s my best friend!” you yelled back, before rushing out onto the sidewalk and running across campus towards Peter and Ned’s dorm room. You hated how much you still cared about Peter after all this time. You hated how much you loved him.

As soon as you reached their door, you frantically knocked on it until Ned opened up. “Oh, Y/N, you’re not supposed to be here. Hey, wait—”

You didn’t let him finish his sentence, squeezing your way past him and into their common room. There, MJ and Peter sat playing a game of chess. Until MJ transferred to your school, nobody had ever been able to beat Peter in chess. You scanned the board as they became aware of your presence, and felt a sense of pride seeing that MJ had his pieces tied up to ensure that she’d have a checkmate in five. He’d either have to resign or let her pick off his queen, two knights, and rook one by one.

“Oh,” you sighed with relief, seeing that Peter was still alive. Everyone in the room was staring at you, waiting to see what you had to say. 

“Well. I’m going to head home. See you later, MJ. Bye!” You turned on your heels and headed towards the door, where Ned was standing with his jaw on the floor.

Peter scrambled to his feet as he caught up with you, grabbing your arm and spinning you around just as he had done yesterday. “Y/N. Let me explain,” he whispered softly, like there was nobody else in the room. Curse those damn puppy dog eyes. You were better than this. You needed to stick up for yourself.

“Goodbye, Peter,” you said, before breaking free of his grasp and walking out the door, doing your best not to cry in front of everybody.

He started to follow you before MJ pulled him back, uttering a simple “Don’t.”

Walking back to your apartment, you realized that you had been right all along. Peter had changed, and nothing was ever going to be the same between the two of you.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #mcu

[levi-ish]

Little Talks | 5

Pairing: Bartender!Levi X Reader

Genre: [+18] Slice of life, drama, romance, fluff, smut

Words: 3k

Warnings: Alcohol, cheating mentions, drugs, cussing

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Masterlist

“Your taste in tea is shit” Levi scanned through the old teabags you had lingering in your cabinets.

“Sorry if I don’t have enough money to buy those fancy blends you like” you rolled your eyes as you leaned further into the throw pillows you had on top of your old couch.

“Tch.”

You turned around and watched the man tumble around with your mugs and you knew that he hated your unmatching sets, always making small comments about them. He then set for the most common ones you had and brought them to you after quickly making your drinks.

It had been a few weeks since the night when Levi comforted you after your ex-beloved’s visit. You two held hands and pretended that it was nothing while watching random cooking shows, then after you fell asleep he left but not before making you another cup of tea that you woke up to find inside your microwave, sitting there waiting for you.

You thanked him in person two days after and exchanged numbers because he claimed that he didn’t ‘trust’ your building’s security. Even when you told him that Zeke only got up because your concierge knew him.

But now things were better than you could expect. Levi would drive you home almost every night and wait for your ‘ok’ text when you took the elevator, to be sure you were safe and sound. He mostly made you tea at 4AM when the bar was closing and you had no classes the day after, and you two hung around at your apartment quite a lot, watching shitty movies and listening to him complain about how you were doing your laundry all wrong.

Whoever saw you two together would think you were a couple of elderlies married.

“I can’t believe he didn’t like how she plated it” you pointed at the TV, quite angry at the cooking show passing on. “She even put those fancy herbs.”

“It’s shit”

“Everything is ‘shit’ to you” you rolled your eyes.

“Only the things that are shit” Levi replied as he sipped on his tea.

You rolled eyes once more as you felt the shift on the sofa, not noticing his movements if it weren’t for it. Levi held his phone to his eyes and a sheer of light illuminated his strong features, highlighting that glorious jawline and the thin lips you—

What?

Shaking your head, you quickly got rid of those thoughts, adjusting your own position and making your back fall more comfortably on the cushions. Levi let a small sigh and brought the teacup back to his mouth, drinking slowly.

“Hange again?” You asked, giving him the side of your eye as you stirred your own drink.

“Kirstein this time” Levi replied, letting out his signature ‘tch’. “I should’ve been there. Those idiots can’t do their jobs properly without supervision.”

“Hange forcing people to listen to their theories again?”

“No. Jean broke the sink and is trying to blame it on the weather somehow.”

“How…”

“No fucking idea.” Levi put his phone back inside his pocket and drank the last of his tea, sighing after. It was a heavenly vision to see, you weren’t gonna lie.

With a small yawn, you stretched your legs and downed the tea in one gulp, earning a side eye from the man who wasn’t pleased you were appreciating one of his fancy blends. The minty taste lingered on your tongue as you licked your lips, and you could smell the hint of cinnamon wandering in the room, mixing with Levi’s cologne that you so much adored.

“I’m bored” you let out, pouting as you rested your face on the pillow closer to his shoulder.

“You wouldn’t be if you stayed quiet and watched the show.”

“Do you hate me or what” you scoffed, pouting even more.

Levi turned to you, watching your expression and that’s when you noticed how close you were to him. His breath fanned over your face and you swore you could see his lips twitching and him inching closer, clearing your throat, you looked down, completely breaking eye contact.

“Do you really wanna know?” He replied and you pushed him. “At least clean your hands before touching me.”

“You wish I was touching you” you bit your lip and rose your brows teasingly.

He turned to your face once more, eyes dead serious focusing on you and he licked his lips slowly, posture completely changing.

“Maybe.”

He caught you off guard with that comment, making a small shiver go down your spine, but you decided that brushing it off would be better than acknowledging new reasons to make the relationship you two had more uncomfortable. You knew Levi wasn’t very pushy about things and probably would forget about it as soon as you would, without giving it another thought.

Oh well.

“Uh…” you tried to say, licking your lips again after your mouth went full dry “… are you hungry?”

“No” he said, eyes still on you as you tried to get his attention away from you.

“Uhm… then do you wanna do something else or…?”

Levi inched closer now, his nose brushing against yours and breath warming your chin as you rubbed skin together, feeling each other scents and every little movement was big enough to make both bodies swarm under the tension in the room.

“Levi… what…”

But before you could continue, he closed the distance, lips colliding as you felt the dry specs of his chapped skin brushing against yours. Is this really happening? What…? It was, and he was still going, hand now holding your nape to have your face closer to his than before, as if he never wanted to let go. You turned to the side to allow his tongue inside, feeling it dancing with yours in a difficult and shy but intense tango that seemed too familiar but strange at the same time.

It was a sensation you never wanted to end.

But as soon as it started, it stopped; his hand left your neck and went back to his side, and his usually unfazed look now seemed more panicked, as if he was already regretting it.

Please, god, don’t regret it. Please…

“I—”

You were abruptly cut off by him standing from the couch and grabbing his coat by the rack, quickly opening the door and leaving your apartment, leaving you by yourself and with empty lips but a full heart that felt too heavy for your shallow chest.

Things changed since that.

Levi completely disappeared. Hange and Jean would say that he would leave the key to them and only showed up in the mornings to rearrange things the way he liked them but left very quickly each time. He didn’t text and you didn’t try to, knowing it would be useless since we are talking about him, most emotionally unavailable person to exist. You still went to the bar every night, trying to catch him around and maybe clear things up, but failed miserably.

You didn’t regret it, not at all. In fact, you wished it would last longer, even though it was enough material for your mind to wander around the floor full of eggshells that were your memories from that night. You wanted more, you wanted him, and now you weren’t ashamed of admitting it to yourself.

And you were almost giving up seeing him again, if it weren’t for Sasha, who was livid over how he had reacted and insisted on dragging you back to the bar.

So there you were, Mikasa holding one of your arms and Sasha holding the other, both giving you pep talks on how you should go there and confront him. You knew he was working tonight for sure, that’s because Mikasa told you she’d texted him about it before and learned he was taking some weird shifts and closing on weirder times. Annie was busy with her two-year anniversary with Armin, so she couldn’t come, but she did text you to be brave. The way Annie would, I mean, sending a small “punch him” and a smiley face.

“C’mon (y/n), you look hot and he will regret leaving when you show up” Sasha’s grip on your arm tightened as she tried to drag you inside. “Tell her, Mikasa”

“You look hot” the other woman said, and you knew that she wasn’t putting much effort in because it made you uncomfortable, otherwise you’d have been inside already since Mikasa was stronger than you two combined. “Levi’s an idiot.”

“I don’t wanna go” you said, whining as they let go of you for a moment. “He did what he did and I was pretty much rejected. I don’t wanna push harder.”

“What’s even his problem?!” Sasha crossed her arms, her expression turning into a mad one. “Was he always an idiot, Mikasa?”

“He changed a lot since he was left at the altar.”

“What” you and Sasha said in unison, shocked by the new piece of information.

“Did I never mention it?”

“No?” You frowned, coming closer to her face. “What do you mean by ‘left at the altar’?”

“Exactly that.”

“Mikasa” Sasha pushed her lightly.

“I don’t know exactly, I was 15, but he was getting married to this girl and she left him the day of the wedding.” Mikasa said as if it was nothing. “Everyone was there to see, and he was devastated.”

That left you wondering… a lot. Why’d Levi never tell you about that? You two went into some deep discussions at times, talking about stuff that you never dared to share with others, and he did open up a little about some of his things, but this? You thought that would be something to tell someone you would think of kissing. Unless he wasn’t really thinking those things about you, then it would be a whole other topic that you were too much of a coward to consider.

Did anyone else know? You had so many questions and you really wish you had the answers because of the anxiety now growing in the pit of your stomach.

“You didn’t think that was important information to share?” You questioned and Mikasa shook her head.

“Not really.”

“Okay, we are getting in. You can deal with that later” Sasha pushed you through the door and now you couldn’t say anything else because your feet already touched the wooden floor.

It was a full house, everyone was dancing and singing along with the old jukebox and there were girls leaning on the counter flirting with Jean as your eyes wandered. Hange was mixing drinks and Levi was nowhere to see, what made you feel a lot more comfortable being there. Sasha and Mikasa pushed through the crowd and found you a place on the counter, sitting on stools and leaving you to sit in between them, so you did, and the blonde bartender was the first one to notice you there.

“Ah!” He chirped loudly, leaving the girls behind to come to you. “My favorite girl… and company, hi, hello.”

You noticed he was now flirting with Mikasa, but she just ignored his presence.

“Hot wings!” Sasha punched the counter and grabbed you by side shoulder, pointing at the shelves. “And shots, keep them coming, my friend here needs them.”

“I’m sure she does” Jean kept his gaze on Mikasa, trying to be subtle about it as you rolled your eyes at him. “Our short friend has been pretty hard to deal with lately, so without you around I already knew something went down.”

“They kissed” Mikasa let out.

“ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT LEVI?” Screamed Hange from where they were, coming right away and pushing Jean with their hip. “Also, hi, but answer me!”

“They kissed” Mikasa repeated, and you gave up on trying to stop them.

Hange’s hand fell on your shoulder as they approached the group further, inserting the ponytail-head in the middle and readjusting the glasses above their nose, “You and shorty? Are you kidding me?! Tell me everything!”

“I’ll leave you to deal with Hange now” Jean said as they leaned a little more into Mikasa’s side. “So… are you in college?”

She only gave him a side glance and ignored his question, making the man confused.

“Focus!” Hange slammed their fist, now sitting on your side. “You have to tell me about it!”

“Oh gosh, please let me breath!” You rose your hands and they all moved their attention to you, making you feel a little overwhelmed and guilty — they were simply curious creatures. A deep sigh left your mouth as you put your palms back on the wooden surface of the table, opening your eyes slowly. “We kissed… and he left.”

“Without saying anything?” Jean asked and you nodded. “Damn… he ghosted you.”

“He might just be too busy?” Hange suggested and you gave them the harsh glare. “Maybe not?”

“Can anyone bring me—us some wings?” Sasha pleaded, leaning onto the table.

“You two need to talk” Hange added, bumping onto you jokingly. “Kiss and make up.”

“That’s not happening.”

“C’mon, he’s in the back. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

You just lowered your head and that was enough for them to understand.

“Well, I’ll leave you be” they just gave you a slight nod and stood from the booth. “Good luck.”

You felt some warmth crawl into your belly and smiled at them, following by another glance onto the other two in front of you.

“Mikasa is such an exotic name, where did it come from?” Jean leaned further, trying his best to sound smooth but the girl’s reaction was too bothered to be working.

“We’ll leave you be” Hange said as they grabbed Jean by the nape and dragged him back to the bar.

[…]

Sasha was on her third plate of hot wings when caught the first glance of Levi.

He came from the back for a moment to grab the electric kettle from under the counter, turning around quickly as if he already knew you were around and was avoiding any type of contact. Being treated like a disease like that made you feel angry, it wasn’t like you’d done anything wrong, you just kissed him back — he was the one to initiate it! The nerve of him.

You gulped down the rest of your beer and threw yourself back on the cushions of the booth, earning a look from Mikasa, but she decided to ignore it knowing you were procrastinating the inevitable, now focusing on Sasha who was unbuttoning her pants to eat more.

“Hey, you’re (y/n), right?” Someone approached your table, hands filling the pockets of their letterman jacket and blonde hair neatly sitting on top of his head. A thin goatee painted his chin and a gentle look sat around his clear eyes.

“Yea” you shook your head, looking at his face, frowning slightly. “Sorry, I—”

“It’s fine, we have Latin together” you now recognized him as the boy who sat in front of you and occasionally borrowed a pen.

“Oh! Reiner, right? You want some hot wings?” Sasha was not pleased you offered, but you just ignored her growl.

“No, I’m fine, just came to say ‘hi’” he gave you a small smile. “See you around.”

You reciprocated the smile and watched as he left, and your eyes collided with cold, grey ones across the room, behind the wooden counter as you felt your heart rush again, as if it was the first time once more. Levi had his muscular arms crossed as he stared right into your soul, making cold chills run all over your spine, holding your body to make it stop.

He turned around to leave and as if a lightning had just struck in you, your body involuntarily stood from its place and rushed to the counter, running around it and pushing the backdoor open, revealing an annoyed short man holding a cup of tea.

“What the f—”

And before he could even complete his thoughts, you grabbed the cup and placed it on the table right next to you, all that before pining him roughly against the wall, staring quickly into his eyes, searching for the same flame you could see inside you now burning around grey specs. A small smile grew on your lips and you kissed him hard.

He hesitated though, leaning back quickly as if something had snapped in his mind, making him realize what was really happening there. But before you could react again, he turned you around, pining your hands above your head as he kissed you feverously, the other hand feeling the skin of your hips from under your shirt, making the chills go harder around your bloodstream.

Levi moved positions once more, taking the back of your thighs and sitting you on top of the same table, making the teacup fall to the floor, but he seemed unbothered by it. His tongue now made advances on your mouth, playing with yours in soft movements even when his own lips made harsh movements, combining everything like sugar and cinnamon, and the pine scent of his cologne invaded your clothes that were now too hot for your needy skin.

His hands clenched around the fat of your legs, holding it as if his life depended on it and he started to lower his lips to your neck, giving it open-mouthed kisses that made a small moan fall from your throat. Ashamed, you didn’t realize that your grip on his shoulders was a little too hard and he put a hand from under your chin, holding your face as he stared deeply into your soul. A satisfied scoff fell from his own plump lips and he came back to what he was doing.

That was somewhat a dream, something you had fantasized about too many times to count, and now that it was happening, you refused to pinch yourself in fear of waking up alone. But when his slim fingers rose your skirt to your hips, things felt too real for it to be just your mind playing tricks. Small whimpers escaped your mouth as Levi decided to explore around your navel, playing softly with the hem of the lacy panties you were wearing, and you thanked whatever god was up there for not wearing those comfortable ones you almost wore tonight.

He removed your panties and lowered himself now, a small breath fanned over your naked parts, making you shiver slightly, only to be held still by his own hands. He gave you a small glance before you nodded in consent, and it was all it took for him to devour you in the most amazing ways you had never experienced before.

Levi had experience — you could tell — and the passion he exhaled was enough for you to moan without caring about anything in the world. His fingers joined his tongue and played with your entrance, teasing slowly as his mouth did wonders around your sensitive bud, movements going from harsh hands to slow kisses that left you whimpering, needing everything, anything more from him, legs hooping around his shoulders while trying to make him come closer to your heat.

You whimpered, moaned, cried under his spell, and everything felt 1000x more sensitive against his touch. His fingers entered you and played around all the right places, hitting every beat to the song that played muffled inside the bar, making a small giggle fall from you and he noticed it, now fastening his pace as if he wanted to go back to shutting you up with his own mouth.

Repeatedly he hit your most sensitive spot, licking, and tasting all he could as he did his best to make you cum. It didn’t take long for you to feel the heat pooling around your stomach, throwing your head backwards and fisting his hair between your fingers as you felt his rush against your orgasm, taking everything from you simply with his mouth. You moaned loudly as you rode his face quickly, hips moving without your consent and he pulled your lips apart to clean the remnants of your pleasure, not leaving one spot untouched.

Your chest heaved from the rush as your eyes made contact with grey seas that now leveled with your height, watching you under spells of lust while he sucked slowly from his fingers, tasting every last bit of you, like you were mead for his tastebuds, and you could swear you saw his lips curl a little upwards.

“You surely know how to make a mess” he noted, a ‘tch’ leaving his mouth.

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