#man he sounded heartbroken | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forlix · 6 months

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‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 (besides myself)・l.f.

— you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

words・5.4k

pairing・lee felix x gn!reader

genres・babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline

warnings・cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown

playlist・house song by searows・glad by tori kelly・let's pretend by del water gap・you were good to me by jeremy zucker

a/n・hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ♡ every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)

I. everything

“One day,” you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, “you’ll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and I’ll be there to witness your downfall.”

Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.

You folded like a lawn chair. “Mother—!”

Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.

“—oh, my dear mother, why? Why me?”

Technically speaking, your aunt should’ve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, she’d said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).

You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift should’ve ended two minutes ago.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasn’t too far off; you swiveled your head in the sound’s direction, sang out “coming!” in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeol’s ankles anchoring her in place.

You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeol’s babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.

He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth.

Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.

The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything you’d experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the stranger’s expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words “Death by Furious Aunt.”

“Was that—?” The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.

“My fucking god,” you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.

“You okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m so, so sorr—”

Byeol started to laugh.

Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.

This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.

“I broke my cousin,” you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.

His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.

“Can I?” He asked.

“Please.”

Carefully, you shifted Byeol’s small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.

“Hi, princess,” he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. “Why are you laughing, silly girl?”

Oh.

You might just continue your lineage after all.

“Y/N-ie,” she answered, still tittering.

He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. “What about Y/N-ie?”

Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your nose—in preparation.

“P-pretty.” I knew it!

The man let out the laugh he’d been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.

“I agree.” His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. “And so are you.” The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.

The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didn’t confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didn’t know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.

He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.

“And ‘cause I’m good with kids,” he added, splitting apart a tangerine. “So I’ve been told.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” you said, plating a couple blueberries. “You melted her earlier.”

“She melted me. She’s so cute. And you’re so cute with her—I didn’t realize I was robbing someone of their job.”

You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.

“She doesn’t take me seriously, and I can’t stay mad at her,” you mused. “I would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. She’s all yours.”

Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didn’t respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.

“Will you be around much, then?”

You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, you’d been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentration—he’d been contemplating how to best flirt with you.

“Y’know. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,” he appended.

It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. “Please don’t tell her mom.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. “On one condition.”

Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. “Which is?”

As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.

It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted you’d let him.

“Be around,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.

II. has changed

Felix pulled Byeol’s hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for her—she looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.

“And what was the last rule again?” He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the world’s woes.

“No barking at other kids,” came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed. “I believe in you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like you’d just confessed to hating kittens. “Come on—she doesn’t have a good track record. I’m allowed to have my doubts.”

“I dunno what that means,” Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.

As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed. “A little barking never hurt anybody, baby.”

“Lix, last time somebody called animal control.”

“Ermm—a little barking never hurt most people.”

That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.

Funnily enough, you’d never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire winter break of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment on the last day of your fall semester, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase “happy anniversary” on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. You’ve celebrated both days ever since.

You loved the ocean growing up. You didn’t get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the water’s very edge so that your toes dipped into the cold—and just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sun’s beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.

Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddess’ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sun’s very spots like an homage to his creator.

You didn’t love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.

The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your aunt’s neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies.

“I’ll be over there,” you called after them.

Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes.” You shooed them off. “Don’t worry about me. Go have fun.”

With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost.

Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you could’ve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldn’t yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldn’t help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeol’s smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felix’s smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.

It was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like you’d broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of time’s trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.

Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place.

The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldn’t you remember where they went?

Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriend’s arrival—that, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.

“I’m not cut out for this anymore.”

Byeol’s neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.

“You know how people walk their dogs?” You mused. “Some dogs walk their people. She’s one of them.”

For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.

“You’re whipped, my love. It’s okay.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, suddenly perking up. “Hey, no barking though.”

“Are we considering that a win nowadays?”

“Do you see animal control anywhere?”

“Good point.”

Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensued—saw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.

“Angel,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not.” Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. “You know it’s not.”

“It’s just that—”

Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it could’ve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.

“I wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,” you sighed, “not just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, I’d still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. I’d like that, I think.”

His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.

Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupid’s bow. A painting.

“That’s easy enough,” Felix hummed. “How do you feel right now?”

You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. “Happy.”

He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. “And now?”

“Happier.”

He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. “What about now?”

“Even happier.”

His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.

“GET A ROOM!”

You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.

“Where did she learn—?” The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.

“It had to be you.”

“Outrageous—you’re the Australian here!”

“You cuss like one too!”

“Because of you!”

“So we’re just lying now?”

“Well, yes.”

Felix cracked a smile—and then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. “We have to do something about her vernacular, don’t we?”

“Oh, badly,” he replied. “Badly.”

After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. “Thank you, baby.”

“What for?”

“Being my happiness.”

He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasn’t enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.

Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.

III. (besides myself)

He’s blonde.

That’s the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your aunt’s porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than you’ve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.

It’s not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. It’s impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.

But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.

You’re so occupied with this game of “I spy” that you don’t notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.

“Is it him?” She asks breathlessly.

You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wall—what did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.

You simply sigh instead. “Yes, but—”

“BOKKIE!” She shrieks, and Felix’s head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.

You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.

“Put everything down. Quickly,” you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.

The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.

“Bokkie,” Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.

“Hi, princess.” He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. “Whoa, you’ve grown strong, haven’t you?”

“She takes taekwondo classes now,” you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.

Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. “Is that true?”

She bobs her head. “I want to be like Bokkie.”

And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like he’s gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. It’s all because of you.

“And kick some ass!” Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.

A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felix’s smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousin’s departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.

Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.

“Hi,” he says.

You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain you’d grow old with greeting you like you’ve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.

“Hi,” you answer. “You look—”

The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.

“—nice,” you finish.

“—beautiful,” Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.

Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think he’s a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sun’s beloved sea. You can’t tell if it’s his stylist’s doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly. “And thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think you would.”

“I didn’t do it for me.”

No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead.

For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what you’re really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.

Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felix’s whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.

“Her Highness beckons.” The smile you manage feels like drying cement. “Shall we?”

On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrus—no lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that it’s a stranger you’ve just let inside.

That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.

It’s clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but it’s even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. You’ve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too.

With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?

After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeol’s bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.

You give your cousin’s door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.

Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can I tell you a secret, princess?”

This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear he’s the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. “Sure!”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.”

“Not even Snernard.”

“M’kay.”

“Or Bong.”

“M’kay.”

“Especially not Trash the chicken. I don’t trust him.”

“I know, I know, I won’t!” Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousin’s plushie-naming conventions.

“Thank you,” he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you don’t catch the next thing he says.

All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over one’s sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.

Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.

“Why?” Her voice sounds microscopic.

“Well, do you remember what Bokkie’s dream job is?”

Byeol considers for a moment. “Being a singer?”

“That’s right.” He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. “And I found a place where I can do that, but it’s very, very far away. I won’t be able to come home very often.”

The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeol’s face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before it’s being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.

“No,” she replies.

“You've grown so much.” Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. “You’re growing so well.”

“No,” she repeats.

“You’ve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.”

“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I want my Bokkie.”

His vision starts to blur also. “But you don’t need me anymore.”

“We do.”

You know the precise moment Felix’s heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.

“We?” He repeats, and she nods.

“Your dream job is being a singer.” Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anyways—

“But what is your dream?”

It becomes too much for you.

You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeol’s room to whirl in your direction. You don’t care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.

You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.

Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.

You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldn’t change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the world’s most fucked-up mural wouldn’t alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but you were the one who’d asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.

But you’re not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; you’re bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish they’d been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldn’t have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.

Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.

Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.

You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and there’s no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, “it’s you.”

You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.

“God, it’s you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.” His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. “Everything has changed besides myself.”

Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You don’t even spare the ring a glance; you don’t doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.

“Thank you for being around, my dream.” His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. “Will you let me do the same?”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ♡

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lavenderspence · 8 days

Text

To Lean On You | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fam!reader

Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.

Word Count: 8.6K

Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other.

A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3

Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:

Hearts by Jessie Ware

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started.

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds.

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost.

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain.

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go.

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair.

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true.

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list.

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone.

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment.

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?”

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him.

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest.

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home.

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico.

His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to.

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”

You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other.

You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped.

You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking.

You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes.

You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been.

“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside.

You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore.

And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.

“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud.

“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did.

“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you.

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.

“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him.

“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her.

“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.

You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.

“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough.

She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier.

“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking.

“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt.

“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.”

“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.

“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off

“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more.

“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again.

“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say.

“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight.

Spencer’s POV

The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight.

In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him.

Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.

He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive.

He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends.

In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in.

Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take?

His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared.

Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you.

He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.

He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.

Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote.

As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?

“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num.

In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same.

“Do what?”

She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card.

“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again.

Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused.

Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different.

For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit.

Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy.

He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.

And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years.

He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt.

Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown.

Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place.

How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.

Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly.

Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one.

Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth.

And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness.

Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.

Your POV

You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine.

You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both.

There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature.

Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt.

It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled.

Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him.

As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.

It’d either make or break you both.

You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.

You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed.

The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that.

Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time.

Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.

You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.

Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out.

Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.

You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure.

He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn.

70 days of slowly killing you both.

When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.

His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.

Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly.

Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over.

89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did.

When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see.

His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over.

One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out.

“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them.

His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms.

Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation.

“That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.

“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now.

If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned.

You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth.

His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.

“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet.

He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face.

“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry.

He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined.

He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to.

He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him.

Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.

Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment.

Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of.

The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes.

And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own.

If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much.

And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline.

You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head.

You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him.

He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you.

You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other.

After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand.

It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent.

“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in.

You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again.

“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice.

You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it.

“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto.

You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head.

“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering.

“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.

“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to.

And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became.

To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace.

He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.

“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it.

“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real.

“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple.

“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?”

"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you.

Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss.

You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.

“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.

He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time.

“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy.

His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process.

If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices.

A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.

“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.

Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived.

“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours.

He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go.

He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching.

It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together.

Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.

When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.

And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered.

“I love you.”

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#spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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lady-ashfade · 11 months

Text

Bound By Birth

The yandere boy’s reaction to you being their sweet, smaller twin and being obsessed.

Characters: Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Aemond Targaryen.

Theses aren’t complete HC’s just some I thought about, but if you want a part 2 or a fic based on it please let me know.

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, Obsession, Possessive, Targaryen ways if you know what I mean, stalking, a bit hinted or nswf a bit but nothing is said that much!

Aemond Targaryen

As soon as Aemond came out of the womb he had lost this sense of warmth and comfort, like he knew you weren’t with him. The new born screamed until you had entered the world a few minutes later and the room felt silent from his crys, only to be full with yours.

From his first breath he knew he belonged with you.

We all know aemond had no dragon that hatched from the egg so he lost that feeling but he had you. The gods had blessed him with something far greater then any dragon he could ever have. Needless to say he thinks of you as his to have since you are his twin.

Little man is possessive from the get go, like he can not bare to be away from you. So you always had him following your trail everywhere you went.

Aemond felt heartbroken when your egg hatched and his had yet too, only to discover the egg was never going to hatch. He was beyond jealous. He and you were supposed to have everything alike, dress the same, eat the same food and share the same toys.

But then that’s when it clicked into his brain you are his dragon. Yes, the gods did this on purpose.

No matter the gender his mind always pictured your wedding day.

Hates it when you train with your dragon and he can’t. Like gets really upset. He does get picked on but you’re there to save him, making him fall harder.

He swears one day he would protect you.

Aegon and the other boys are out of the question for him. You aren’t allowed to hang out with them at all, and if you are? He will pull you away quickly without a word and drag you off away from them.

When he gets his eye taken from him he couldn’t handle your eyes looking at him. Feels ashamed for the curse now on his face because he can’t be handsome or beautiful for you.

But the joy he feels inside when you weep beside him and hold his hand, he feels some sort of pride that you care for him deeply.

Female twin:

Knows you are meant to marry him. He doesn’t even have to convince Alicent very hard to wed you because she needs you to stay safe.

Matching your dresses to his outfit all the time.

He trains to impress you one day, maybe protect you in a fight. If you are ever watching the boys practice he will try his hardest which sometimes leads to him embarrassing himself. But you are there to smile and kiss his cheek with grace.

After that the two of you grow, well he changes into a different man but you stay the same sweet girl.

Aemond has become your protector. Always behind you and glaring at anyone who passes a glance that isn’t welcome. Man is ready to kill with just one word.

Since he is older his mind grows and he can’t stop noticing how beautiful you really are. The body, the hair, or just the sound of your sweet voice. He is addicted and can’t wait to have you as his wife.

Is a beast at fighting now. Gets a boost when you watch from above and see him win every time. Cole is his wingman and will pair him up with someone to put on a good fight just for you.

Male twin

Knows the gods made you smaller and younger then him just so you can be his. From the time he realized what marriage was he was thinking of you.

When you are younger and training he hates embarrassing himself around you, like hated it. Or when you’d pair up with the other boys, even Aegon. Aemond will hate to spar against you and he couldn’t imagine hurting you. But this is more time he can bound with you.

When he loses his eyes- Boy is more angry that he doesn’t look more like you now. You were his twin brother and are supposed to look the same. Aemond does feel the same when he sees you cry for him and tell him he will be okay. But he’s gained a dragon now. One to protect you.

Aemond is just glaring at people while you’re just smiling at everyone. Two separate handsome boys.

He doesn’t care if you’re a boy, you are his twin and he is meant to have you. He hates the thought of you marrying a woman, or anything- Will not share you with anyone.

You both match clothes all the time and he makes sure to tell the servants to dress you both alike or he will be angry.

He is still your protector at all cost and will let nobody harm you in any way. Not his sweet brother.

Just as well, when he grows his mind picks up on your handsome face, your smaller height. He feels better about himself because he could easily overpower you, being the bigger male twin does something to him. He loves it when you get angry at how you can’t grow as much muscle or height as him.

You both train together and he will teach you. Sometimes he will let you win, other times he wouldn’t because he loves you looking a bit sad- You might not be as big or strong but you have speed and can move away from him quickly. He loves to praise you for the smallest things.

Lucerys Velaryon

As I have said in my past fics he is a clingy boy. From birth he loves you because you are his partner in life and he knows it.

Lucerys does cry a lot when he is away from you, but he is also a happy baby as long as he is near you, just like aemond. I think at the young age he just knows you’re his twin.

I picture you however being the first one to walk and he’s just on the floor trying to follow you. Throws a tantrum when you walk away. But, his first steps are when rhaenrya tries to get him to walk and he does…only to walk passed her and over to you.

Growing up he follows you around like a lost puppy. Clings to you where ever you go and if you don’t give him your attention, he will find a way to get it. He does get jealous when jace is around because he’s older, boy just wants you to pay attention to him.

He has planned many pranks with you. Might even do a few on you but feels bad immediately afterwards.

When your father “dies” he realizes his role is to take on driftmark and he fears it. So he gets more possessive after that.

Hates being called Bastard but when someone calls you that? Boy is pulling you away and telling his mother for just the slightest judgement against you. Might even get daemon on it because he is more ruthless.

He tells his mother when he was younger to betroth the two of you and she sees how much you two love each other. However when you both get older he yells at her that he will not marry anyone else but you, no matter what. And he never disobeys her but this was different and she knows he telling the truth.

Even if you are a male he will take no wife. Because that means she would be yours as well. But let’s be honest, rhaenrya is planning to betrothed the both of you to someone.

He kisses your cheek all the time or holds you hands, doesn’t really care who’s watching.

He still pranks you however, like taking your books and holding them above your head.

He is more clingy then the rest of them but not as dangerous- Well, not himself but will get others to do the dirt work.

Male twin:

He knows he’s small but he’s still young, but you? You’re shorter then him and less muscular and it makes him happy. Because that means he can protect you better then you can yourself.

He compares his frame to yours constantly, you’re such a smaller boy and he picks on you a bit. Not mean, but he can be a bit cocky at times.

You already know you both have matching outfits- Every day. Even pjs.

You both used to spar with each other all the time because it was so much fun, and he didn’t like you going against anyone in the fear of you being hurt.

Older sparring is fun because he isn’t that good at it and you’re almost just as bad. From any age he is so embarrassed to mess up in front of you. But maybe if he beats you then you can praise him for it.

Also, he can be alone with you and no one bats an eye because you’re both boys. So he can be as affectionate as he wants.

But nothing really changes for being a boy or a girl in his eyes, he’s just the same with both.

Female reader.

Younger him thinks it’s like a book about a princess and prince, just like the ones your mother read to the two of you.

Because you’re a female he gets more jealous of the males in his family, not saying he doesn’t for male you but this is different. You can easily be betrothed to any of them, he hates it.

Begs your mother to have you as his wife from a young age as well. It’s your birth right to be his bride. And again this means he has no use of another wife because you can have children. There is no one else he wants.

Matching dresses to his outfits and if you want to wear something else? Pouts. He can’t bare to not be in the same color as you.

Sparring is different because he is so terrified of hurting you. He will not even use force on his swings, but a few low hits. You can cry and get angry he isn’t trying but he wouldn’t care.

Kisses you in private all the time, “You’ll be my wife one day.”

Glares at any male that talks to you, even his brother. Tugs at your hand and just joins at your hip.

You can’t be alone together…Unless he sneaks in your room. Will just hold you until you both fall asleep.

Loves to braid your hair. Like he learns just for you.

Jacaerys Velaryon

He is the first born, so he knows he’s missing you. He, just like the others, is waiting for your presence.

Somehow even baby him wiggles closer to you in the cradle. They had to put you two in the same cradle because he wouldn’t stop fussing about being away from you.

He is more calm at this time, like if you get picked up? He’s going to watch but he’s just chilling unless you are out of his sight.

Loves to show you his toys, even though you have seen them so many times. Loves to share them with you too.

Have you seen those videos of babies hugging each other? Literally him with you.

He isn’t as different from the other two at this point.

Jace learns he is to become king and always calles you the future queen/king. And I mean actually correcting his mother or anyone else.

“The gods put us together, it stays that way.”

Loves when you hold his arm or chase him around playing tag.

Hates Aegon or aemond. He’s okay with lucerys, just don’t give him more attention.

Knows he is a bastard and that makes you one too and he fears for you the most.

Older him is just as bad if not more.

Tails behind you and always have his hand around your waist. Always doing everything together.

Even baths, not in the same room but at the same time- And he’s tried to be in the same tub. But going to clothes, studying and to the same sheets as you.

Gets angry if it’s even mentioned that you would marry someone else. Yells about how you will role beside him and no one can change that.

He’s kinda angry a lot when it comes to you. Wouldn’t really let anyone get too close, like not even your personal time. You want to read a book? Okay, he will be in the corner doing his own thing.

But he’s sweet to you always unless you say you can’t marry him, then it’s just him pushing you to think you have no choice.

Male twin

You think you can get away from this man? Um no, he is always near you.

From a young age he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Can’t play without him, can’t study without him, or train. Anything you do is what he is doing.

Training with younger him isn’t that bad- Well, okay it’s a bit. He really loves to win against you and does the most. He wouldn’t hurt you but if you fall it isn’t his fault, you should be praising him for being so strong.

Dressing the same each time and will literally throw a tantrum if not. Saying the future king demands it.

After a few years, I think he might be the most possessive about you. The only time you can leave him or go somewhere in the castle is with his mother.

Man is always with you every step, linking your arms.

You already know he is picking on you for being so much smaller then him. I see him as such a cocky man for some reason. Saying things like

“You can’t get that, let me.” “I’m surprised you can even pick up a sword.” “How can a man be that small?”

Training with him older is him teaching you- Mostly useless stuff so he can still win. Just like when he was a kid, loves to win against you.

Matching outfits with you.

Boy knows you are to be king with him and will not stop at anything to get that point across.

Female twin

Boy is holding your hand as you lead him anywhere or him you. He with not leave you for anything.

Matching your dresses to his colors or you wearing his favorite colors- Or him just picking them out for you. If jace doesn’t like your dress he will make you change it.

Is ready before you get done in the morning and comes in as soon as you get your dress on, much to his dismay because he could help you change.

Wouldn’t let the maids touch your skin or go anywhere. The only place that can help you with is your hair and clothes. Loves to let his hands linger on your neck while he places a necklace on you. Or helping you pick everything out.

Escorts you everywhere you need to go. He isn’t afraid to have a tight grip on your waist if you try and get away from him. Can and will gaslight you anytime he wants.

Just like the others he already told his mom he will marry you. You think he will care if she says no? Ha, he wouldn’t care.

While he is studying you are in the corner or with your mother.

He doesn’t really like your time with the other children but is kinda okay with it. Only if you pay attention to him more.

Sneaks into your room at night and will kiss you for as long as he can. Holds you close and brushes your hair until you fall asleep. Doesn’t even care if he leaves marks on you so the others can see.

He does kill in secret if need be or gets them killed by guards, maybe even by daemon or rhaenrya.

Daemon has taught him a few things on how to wow a woman and how to keep you in line, even things to do to you in bed.

#lucerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #yandere #yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #yandere house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #Lucerys Velaryon x reader #yandere Lucerys Velaryon #yandere Lucerys Velaryon x reader #Jacaerys Velaryon x reader #yandere Jacaerys Velaryon #yandere Jacaerys Velaryon x reader #Aemond Targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #yandere Aemond Targaryen #yandere aemond targaryen x reader

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cameronspecial · 3 months

Text

You Will Always Be My Business

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: Y/N goes on her first date after her break up with Rafe and he has something to say about it.

A/N: This is inspired by this post.

Masterlist

Rafe and Y/N broke up about two months ago. Y/N couldn’t deal with Rafe’s possessiveness and addiction anymore, so she had to end their relationship for her own sanity. She was surprised by how easily he let her go because she expected more of an argument from him, but after his pleas to not leave him were ignored, he accepted their fate and left. Even with his vices, Y/N was heartbroken by their separation. There was a side to Rafe that only she got to see and it showed her the man he could be if he wanted to. It showered her in love with no limit.

Now, two months later, Y/N is getting ready for her first date with Aaron. She is nowhere near healed from the breakup; however, she needs to try to move on to help the process. Aaron knows about Rafe and also just got out of a relationship, so they are both on the same page with what this relationship is. She finishes putting her earrings in when the knock comes at her door. She jogs to the door and opens it with a smile. “Hey, Beautiful. Are you ready to go?” Aaron greets. She nods while grabbing her purse, “Yep, lead the way.”

———

The door to the car shuts with a thud and Y/N thanks Aaron for dropping her off. She jogs to her front door, fumbling with her keys as she places them in the lock. “The date must not have been that great if he isn’t coming inside.” She jumps at the voice coming from her side and turns toward Rafe. The porch sensor finally flicks on, illuminating him clearly. She doesn’t know what to say to him, so he continues. His head flicks toward Aaron’s car, “Might want to tell him you are safe. Don’t want him waiting there all night.” She turns to Aaron and gives him a thumbs-up. When Aaron looks unsure, she nods. The sound of his motor fades as she enters her house with Rafe in tow. “What are you doing here?” she questions, going through the motions of getting comfortable. Rafe drops to a squat to undo the buckles of her heels, “A little birdy told me that you were going on a date. I wanted to check in and see if he treated you like the gentleman you deserve.”

“We aren’t dating anymore, so how I get treated by other men is none of your business.”

Rafe stands to his full height, towering over her. His hands drop onto the back of the couch she is leaning against and traps her within his arms. He leans forward so she can feel his breath against her ear, “You will always be my business. My heart is completely and utterly yours and yours is mine. No matter how long we are apart, we will always be each other’s. So if you need time to play the field, then you take it because, in the end, you are going to come back to me.” Her breath hitches when he presses his lips against her cheek. He takes tentative steps back before leaving her alone to question the validity of his statement.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

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reallyromealone · 2 months

Note

Can you pleaseee do draken x reader who is aways sleeply and cuddly? Maybe a little bit sensitive too?

Title: sleepy

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: Draken, ran Haitani, Rindō Haitani

Fic type: story

Pairings: draken x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, fluff

Notes:

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

It was actually quite precious to see the Toman vice president with an adorable sweetheart like (name) snuggled against him.

(Name) Cuddled Drakens side as the man sipped his whiskey, despite the sound of the music in the main section of the club it was muffled in the vip section, perfect for (name) who was falling asleep as Draken pet him gently as he chatted to the other Toman higher ups who paid no mind to (name), the cutie being the brother of ran and Rindō after all.

(Name) Could sleep anywhere, Draken found it funny as his baby usually ended the night by carrying him to his car or waking him so that the sleepy idiot could get to the car with Drakens guidance.

"We Haitani love our sleep" Ran mentioned casually in the early days of Draken knowing (name), confused on why he slept all the time. (Name) Was different from his older brothers though, sweeter and more sensitive.

"(Name), put that down" Draken said bluntly, the suited man watching as (name) held a kitten who had a matching sleepy expression "our son" he said simply and when Draken doubled down, (name) looked down at the kitten and a heartbroken expression washed over his face at the thought of leaving the little one as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Draken would refuse to admit at how easily he crumbled to the others sad expression.

But now they had their 'son' (cat name) and a happy (name).

(Name) Was Drakens lap decor typically on nights he brought his beloved with him, (name) dressed in comfortable but designer brands as neither his siblings or his boyfriend would let him leave the house in pajamas.

"Baby, wake up" Draken said as he situated (name) in the passengers seat and got into the driver's seat "what?" (Name) Grumbled with a pout as the Toman vice kissed him gently "you hungry?"

"Take out?"

"And maybe a movie if you can stay awake"

"And blankets..."

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #draken x male reader #draken x reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader

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disneyprincemuke · 8 months

Text

midnights, 2 * mv1

you were in the middle of eating dinner alone when you got the feeling of getting punched in the gut

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: i specialise in angst and heartbreak so B)

notes: man i shouldve just written this when my breakup was fresh, because when i tell you my heart was BROKE… (i love oversharing)

(prev) // (next)

your eyes are glued to your phone in your hand, as the other works the chopsticks to grab yourself some noodles. the tv is switched on in the background for some background noise.

the deafening silence in your apartment has haunted you for the past weeks since the breakup. to battle it, the tv is always turned on in your presence to keep you grounded.

you’ve been on instagram scrolling for about 5 minutes when a strange sensation hits you in your stomach. your throat feels weird, and your arms slowly start to feel numb.

you put the chopsticks down onto the plate that sat peacefully on your coffee table. you take a deep breath and lay your phone down on the carpet, looking around the emptiness of your apartment.

it’s the sudden realisation that you almost didn’t have a place to stay after the breakup. you had sublet the apartment your sister when you moved into max’s, and since she got engaged to her boyfriend and bought their own place, you’ve thought about putting it back on the market.

good thing you hadn’t.

it’s the weird void you felt in your chest sitting here all by yourself. being alone has never felt so definite until now.

the silence that creeps up on you every waking moment you’re in here miserably haunts you. you miss the sounds of clicking from max’s driving simulator, or the random clangs of things when the cats were in a mood, and the mews that conveyed dissatisfaction from the food bowl being empty.

your apartment is barely a shell of the home you’ve gotten used to.

you come home to nothing every day. no cats with their affectionate head rubs against your feet, and absolutely no loving boyfriend at the door whose hands cup your cheeks while he greets you with a loving kiss to your lips.

“-max verstappen scores at least three points in the sprint on saturday evening in losail, he will be crowned 2023’s champion.”

the mention of the name makes you lift your head to the tv. there’s your ex-boyfriend in all his glory, spraying champagne and having fun.

being this hung up about the breakup feels almost illegal; like you had the least right out of everyone to be so heartbroken, seeing as you did initiate it.

your phone lights up, notifications from alexandra and kika flooding your lock screen. you admire their determination — you haven’t picked up their calls and responded to text messages in almost 4 days.

you sigh and turn your head, eyes landing on the framed picture of you with the cats. you miss them terribly, almost as much as you miss the man himself. but it’s way more complicated than just dropping by into your old home to visit the cats.

victoria has mentioned to you that it’s no problem if you do in the week, since max is away for a race. you just couldn’t handle the thought to even be in that apartment. you’d just miss him way too much, and you would fold immediately.

but the constant fights that occurred towards the end of your relationship keeps reminding you to stay away. it’s unfair to keep holding on when it hurts you both.

your eyes linger on the frame that’s faced down on your entertainment centre. you have the picture in it memorised: you and max in abu dhabi under the fireworks when he won his first championship.

it was when he had first said he loved you.

how did it dwindle down so quickly? you could have sworn max was everything you wanted in a person. how did his little quirks you once loved about him be the same thing that drew you away?

you glance at the tv screen, the reporter moving on to other news. you’re holding your own hands back from chucking the tv remote at it.

“oh, god,” you mutter to yourself. the tv screen blacks out when you press the button on the remote.

you rub your forehead in frustration, feeling a headache creeping up from the back of your head. it’s the result from crying right before dinner.

the doorbell stops you from grabbing the faced down picture frame to hug— a habit you’ve gotten used to when you and max were separated due to work.

you tilt your head, eyebrows furrowing as you scramble to your feet. you push yourself off the floor and basically drag yourself over without asking who it is.

though, there’s a slight hope sparking up in your chest. could it be?

you unlock the door quickly, a small smile still stretching on your face when you realise who it is. it’s alexandra and kika, plastic bags decorating their hands and arms as they smile sadly at you.

“you really didn’t have to,” you frown, stepping aside and gesturing for them to come in.

“we can’t leave you all by yourself,” alexandra smiles, making a sharp turn for the kitchen.

you follow behind the pair, plastic bags laid down on the table slowly. it’s only then you realise the overnight bags on their shoulders, now neatly piled by the couch.

kika pulls out a bottle from a plastic bag, presenting it to you from where she is with a grin. “i am hoping you like red.”

“if you don’t,” alexandra pauses, taking out another bottle from another, “we have white wine.” she puts it down onto the table, slowly taking out bags of chips and tubs of ice cream. “but if you don’t feel like drinking, we have junk food.”

“we can eat our body weight,” kika smiles at you.

you frown, tears welling in your eyes at their thoughtfulness. “thank you,” you manage to huff out as your tears start falling out of your eyes. “this means so much to me.”

asking max for a breakup was never part of the plan that night. you still don’t even know where it came from because you know that you still want to be with him.

but when his silence filled the tiny room, eyes barely being able to meet yours, you knew that you basically had your answer. you didn’t fight for it any more after seeing the lifeless eyes that once used to be so bright.

maybe he had been beating around the bush. maybe he couldn’t bring himself to be the one to ask you for a breakup.

maybe you asking for it brought him relief, freeing him from the shackles of your deteriorating relationship.

in the flight back home, you were afraid that no one could ever love you as much as max did. but here are your friends, coming over unannounced to take care of you, despite the fact that you’ve been ignoring them.

kika and alexandra engulf you in a hug, one hand patting your hair and the other rubbing circles on your back. “we’re always here for you.”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

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roachspeaks · 1 year

Text

Slashers and Jealousy

Just drabbles for how the slashers deal with Jealousy :)

REQUESTS OPEN BTW

Warnings: some sexual themes/descriptions, maybe swearing, descriptions of killing people, people with bad intentions, Slight smut in Bo’s and Brahms’s, swearing, sexuality coded(mentions of female friends), side character OC’s (That may be included in One shots in the future),

Michael Myers(I wasn’t sure which version this suited best so you can decide)

It’s a commonly known fact that Michael doesn’t feel things. At least not like other people. He has his own set of emotions and expressions that are completely unique to him. He can be hard to understand sometimes but the closest thing to jealousy is when he sees you giving others the attentiveness you give him. It’s not like he cares. He doesn’t, not like how you care for him. He certainly doesn’t care that your showing a complete stranger the types of care you show him.(patching up their scratches and bruises, giving them a cold drink for the Haddonfield heat). The stranger had apparently claimed that he was passing through town and had gotten into an accident on one of the hiking trails. Michael knew that was a lie. The timing didn’t match up. Michael went on the trails every morning and he didn’t see the stranger or even a wreckage of any kind. Another thing the man left out. Michael didn’t miss how the man held on to your wrist whilst you cleaned his scratches with an alcohol pad. You brushed it off, focusing on the task at hand. You had had enough practice fixing up injuries from Michael. Of course he wasn’t in the room with you two, he was watching from the window outside. Michael could read people easily. He was amazing at it actually. And watching the stranger inside your home he could only read bad intentions. Michael didn’t know how the conversation went but he assumed you offered the stranger the night in your guest room. Michael entered the house silently through the back door. Then silently up the stairs of your home, he wasn’t surprised to see the stranger standing in your doorway while you slept. Michael didn’t hesitate for a moment to come up behind him and slit his throat. Blood spurting all over your floor as he gasped for breath that he didn’t deserve. You had gotten used to waking up when Michael would get home. So you immediately woke to the sounds of dying a just few feet from you. Let’s just say the both of you slept in the guest room that night. He didn’t ‘cuddle’ you per say. He would never, he’s a stone cold serial killer. But he did let you cuddle into him. Because you needed it of course. Not because he was worried about you. But he held you just a little closer than night. Let your hands wander just a little more than he would usually tolerate.

Vincent Sinclair

Let’s be honest. He’s an extremely insecure person, that fuels his jealous thoughts. Often he will be jealous of his brother. You and Bo spend almost as much time together as you and Vincent. You lived with them and Lester. Vincent didn’t get jealous of Lester though, or even strangers. He just knew that Bo was seen as a very attractive individual. That’s how most of the female tourists ended up sculptures in the museum. He handles his Jealousy with sadness and self resent rather than anger or aggression. He feels incompetent with himself and unworthy of the attention you give him. This particular time you and Bo had been working on a truck in the garage. You were both sweaty and covered in oil, in tank tops and sweatpants. The truck was on the lift and had been raised too a level that even Bo couldn’t reach the top. He had accidentally left a wrench on the hood. It wasn’t a big deal. But when Vincent saw Bo holding you up by your waist, his hands happening to be underneath your white tank top. He was heartbroken. Somewhere in his mind he knew that logically you were his partner and you wouldn’t ever leave him for Bo, but in the moment it was easy to forget. Vincent left abruptly, and you noticed. As soon as you were on the ground Bo’s hands returned to his sides. He knew what Vincent was thinking, and you did too. He nodded toward the door Vincent had left though and you swiftly went to follow the long haired man. When you found him he was in his workshop. Scribbling on a piece of paper. You slowly leaned over his shoulder and what you saw shocked you. A drawing of you and him, scribbled out and ripping. Vincent’s breath was jagged and frustrated. “Oh Vince” you whispered into his neck, as your arms came to wrap around him. He froze as if being caught. “I love you. Not Bo. You, Vincent Sinclair” that sentence, plus a lot more physical contact the next day reassured him immensely. He still struggles with insecurity, but you always know how to make it better.

Bo Sinclair

Unlike his twin, Bo’s jealousy is angry and possessive. He’s used to being left behind, he doesn’t want that scenario to happen with you. Let’s be honest Bo is the type to jealous fuck. Aggressively slamming into you over and over. Making you cum over and over again. Reminding you that only he can make you feel that good. Bo uses sex as a coping mechanism. Something he knows he’s the best at so he can hide behind it. It gives him a sense of security. Now though you wouldn’t let that slide. Your legs were already wrapped around his waist as he lathered your jaw in sloppy kisses. Pushing your back up against the wall of the storage closet in the auto shop. A customer was getting just a little too bold with their eyes and Bo hated it. He said he needed to talk to you ‘in the back’. There wasn’t a ‘back’ in the shop. There was a tiny storage closet around the corner, and that’s where he took you. The customer could definitely hear the two of you. You weren’t loud often but Bo just got a rise out of you. His kisses moved down to your neck and collar bone. He growled and moaned against your skin, sending harsh vibrations up your spine. You nearly got lost in the moment, he felt so good against you. But then you remembered that you had been thinking about this for a while. The fact that whenever a customer would interact with you in a way that could seem flirtatious in the shop, it would almost always lead to spontaneous sex with Bo. At first you thought it was a kinky thing but over the course of a while, after taking the time to examine him in these moments. You discovered it wasn’t a kink or turn on, it was a coping mechanism. He always got so fixated and rough in the moment. You didn’t mind the roughness, if anything it was a preference for you, but when he did this it was like he was tranced. Like he had something to prove to you. You swore that the next time he did this that you would confront him on it. Knowing Bo if you asked any other time he would deny that it ever happened. You moved your hands from his neck to his shoulders, pushing him off of you and unwrapping your legs from his torso. He was too caught up, taking this is a change of positions. He continued smashing his lips into yours, practically shoving his tongue with down your throat. “Bo! Mmm… stop it!” He kissed you hard and sloppy between your words. But at the word stop he slowly stepped back, still holding your waist with both hands. “What?” His face was neutral with a pinch of concern. Jealousy still ever present behind his eyes. “What’s up with you? Every time a customer gets a little flirty you freak and drag me back to the storage closet” my fingertips trace the bone of his jawline and move to cup his face in your hands. “I don’t know what what you mean sugar” he smirks and rolls his eyes. You don’t play along though. Instead staring into his eyes with an eyebrow raised. He tries to say that it’s seriously nothing but eventually he cracks. “I don’t-…I don’t like watching people eye you up right in front of me…” he avoids your eyes as if he has anything to be ashamed about. “Bo…it’s ok to get jealous. I get jealous all the time. But we can’t just fuck it out whenever, we still have customers.” I run my thumb along his bottom lip in an attempt to make it more intimate. Being as that is when Bo learns the best. He pays the most attention to you when your being physical. He nods and rests his head on your shoulder. The fabric of his blue coveralls brushing across your arms(that were exposed as you were in a tank top, because you were supposed to be doing car mechanics). You thought that was that but suddenly you heard him chuckling. “You get jealous all the time eh?”.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas’s jealousy(much like Vincent’s) stems a lot from insecurity, being told all his life by people like Hoyt that he was ugly and that no one could ever really love him. But alternatively when he gets jealous he hates the fact he’s feeling that way at all. He treats it like he’s disrespecting your trust in him by resenting someone else for getting your attention. Most of the time you stay at the house with Luda Mae and there isn’t many occasions where Tommy would get Jealous, however this time you, him, Luda and strangely enough Hoyt, were going grocery shopping in town. He was already getting strange looks from everyone in the store from his appearance. Normally he wouldn’t even have come along, but Luda was getting older and needed more help carrying things. No one knew why Hoyt had come along. He wasn’t going to help, if anything he made it more of a chore than it had to be. Luda had sent you to go grab a bag of sugar, causing you to need to separate from the group. Thomas watched you walk away, worrying. To which he had every right to worry. You couldn’t find the sugar. You had been to this grocery store what felt like hundreds of times and yet you couldn’t find it. You saw a person who worked there though and proceeded to innocently ask him where to find the sugar. He lead you to the shelf. The bags that Luda wanted were big, and heavy. The man took the liberty of offering you help(he clearly wasn’t aware that you could carry it yourself. You lived on a farm for gods sake). You just let him carry the bag. He followed you back to your group, cracking a few jokes that warranted laughs out of you. You clearly didn’t pick up that he was flirting. Hoyt smirked at this, noticing an opportunity to torment Tommy. He elbowed him lightly and laughed smugly. When you got within 10 feet of Tommy you picked up your pace and ran up to him. The worker seemed shocked that these were your people. An old fashioned looking woman, a sheriff carrying a gun obviously on his belt, and Thomas. To strangers Thomas was hard to describe. He was obviously a big man, and the mask situation wasn’t helpful for new interactions either. “Oh right. Thank you!” You smiled brightly at the worker, who’s expression was wary and still surprised. You went to grab the large bag from him and hauled it into the cart. As the four of you went to walk away he called out after you again. “Um here! My phone number.” He slid a small piece of folded paper into your hand before running off. You looked at your hand oddly, that was weird. You didn’t miss how as you walked alongside him, Thomas’s eyes lingered on your hand that slid into your pocket. He was distracted as he walked, bumping into Luda once or twice. Luda being Luda, done with getting her heels stepped on by a man that towered over her, decided to solve the problem. “Tommy, why don’t you and them go get me some butter.” She pointed down the aisle where the butter was. As you followed Thomas you turned your head to see Luda looking at you with a look that said ‘talk to him about it’. So that’s what you did. He had his hands placed on the plastic boarder between the walkway and the shelf. Sometimes you forgot just how big his hands were. You slid one hand overtop of his and intertwined your fingers. “Im not keeping his phone number Tommy.” To prove your point you used your free hand to pull the paper out of your pocket and with help from your teeth you shredded it in half. Both dropping one piece and spitting the other one on the floor of the grocery store. You looked at him from the side of your eye and saw him smiling through the hole in his mask. You grabbed a stick of butter and ran back to Luda and Hoyt, Tommy’s hand still in yours. Hoyt almost said something but before he could he got the back of Luda’s hand to the back of his head.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is a tough one. Again not many situations when he would get ‘jealous’ per say. Possessive and protective as fuck? Definitely. The idea of you leaving the house scares him, and yet when grocery boy comes around he gets moody. It’s a lose lose situation. You know better than to let Malcom in the mansion, Brahms would lose his shit. But he is the only other companionship you have other than Brahms and your family over a phone. Some days in the mornings you’ll sit on the porch and have a conversation with him over coffee. This has led to many temper tantrums from Brahms. But you always make it up to him. He’s not mature, like at all. We all collectively know that. He’s an eight year old in a 40 year olds body with the horniness of a virgin teenager. You swear he likes to fight you on everything after Malcom’s been around the house. This time he wanted to fight you on bedtime. He had already avoided you all day, only interacting with you to eat. He was touch deprived(more than usual). So, when you went in for his bedtime kiss, even the slight touch made his resolve crumble. His hands grasped your hips roughly, pulling you to straddle him. “Oh, now you wanna talk to me?” Your hands were resting on his chest as to keep yourself upright. “Im not complaining, but your a jealous guy yknow that.” It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement. An incredible accurate one at that. You could see he wanted something, the look in his eyes told you everything. Beautiful forest green eyes clouded with want. “All you gotta do is ask Brahmsy” you lean in to his face, not quite touching him. Just to tease him a little. “Please…” he rasped. His actual voice evident and gruff. “Kiss me…” he leans in just a little leaving barely an inch between you. You could feel his breath on your face, thankful that he had been brushing his teeth. You couldn’t help smashing your lips into his. It was aggressive and needy. He clearly missed you even though it had only been a day, and quite frankly he had probably been watching you through the walls all day. His hands groped at your sides and your chest. All whilst you continued to kiss him. Needy and clingy, two key words when describing Brahms. That night he cuddled into you extra tight. With no intention of letting you up the next morning.

Billy Loomis

Billy doesn’t get jealous unless he’s already having a shitty day. He’s pretty calm and collected. When he does get jealous he starts fights, with everybody. You, Stu, random strangers, teachers, everybody. He’s pretty unstable as is in the terms of emotions. Especially in relationships. His mom made it real hard to trust that someone won’t leave him. In this instance he was jealous of your friend Connor. Connor was generally nerdy, spent all his time in the science labs at school. That’s how you met him actually, a science project. He was the exact opposite of Billy. Frankly you were more of a ‘smart nerdy’ type yourself. It was ridiculous how it all started anyways, you had a study session already planned with Connor. You made sure to tell Billy that a week in advance, knowing he doesn’t like surprises. But apparently he forgot all about it and made plans with Stu and his new temporary girlfriend. Obviously you told him you couldn’t go because you already had plans that you told him about. He got frustrated and jealous as expected. Connor showed up at your house at the worst moment then possible. If we’re gonna be honest Connor never liked Billy much either. Billy was extremely popular and kind of an asshole to the smarter kids at school. Not to say he wasn’t smart, he’s just quiet and friends with Stu so people assume his grades aren’t great. You and Billy had been yelling at each other when Connor opened your door. What happened next was all a blur, memorable events include Connor and Billy getting into each other faces, Connor pushing Billy, and Billy knocking Connor on his ass with a punch to his jaw, Billy had a reputation of overdoing it. Evident in this situation because Billy proceeded to get on top of Connor and continue to punch him. By the time he stopped Connors whole face was bleeding and bruised and Stu and his girlfriend had come into the house. The only reason he stopped was because Stu pulled him off. Sure they killed people but not as Billy and Stu, so he wrapped his arms around him and dragged him off of Connor. You had to call him an ambulance but you knew about Ghost face. “Both of you go. I’ll call an ambulance.” Stu understood why you wanted them gone, so he left. Dragging Billy out behind him. The next few days were lonely. Billy didn’t come back to your house, you assumed he was staying at Stu’s. But around a week after the incident you received an anonymous call. When you picked up you heard the voice of Ghost face over the line. “What’s your favourite scary movie?” If Billy planned on killing you it was a little too late, so you played along. You told him your favourite. The voice over the phone laughed and said something along the lines of ‘So I do know a thing or two, huh?’ The voice then told you to go outside into your backyard. You did as it instructed and stepped out of your back door to see a large sheet draped on the wall of your house, with a projection on it of the title screen of your favourite horror movie. In the centre of it all stood ghost face. Your ghost face. You walked up to him and once in touching vicinity you flipped the chin of his mask up over his mouth and kissed him. No matter how irrational and irresponsible he was sometimes, you missed him. When you pulled away he fully took the mask off, tossing it on the grass somewhere. “Forgive me?”

Alright have whatever this is. I would’ve done more characters but im having some writers block. If you want a part two with someone I missed just comment or ask me. Requests are open sooo yea.

#slashers #headcannons #michael myers #halloween michael myers #vincent sinclair #x reader #x gender neutral reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #jealousy headcanons #slashers x reader

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arminsumi · 10 months

Note

hiii can you do #3 (car sex) with gojo?

꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐂𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱

GOJO Satoru ⋅ fem reader

Note: oopsie doopsie it became a fic🫠

Summary: getting stuck in the rain on the drive home from a party with your favorite enemy Gojo Satoru

Warnings; 🔞 mdni, smut, enemies-to-lovers kinda trope, hate sex, Gojo's an impliedd fvckboy, dirty jokes, Gojo being a bit of an annoying brat, pns (baby, slut, etc), drama/argument, stuck in a rainstorm trope, car sex, implied crush on Suguru, jealousy (Gojo), fingering, dirty talk, handjob (reader giving), protected sex, Suguru calling at the end 🫠, light teasing/mocking/meanness from Gojo, lmk if i have missed something, pretend u never saw any errors pls proofreading is hard 🙏😩

Wordcount ≈ 1.8k

Playme ♪ slow down

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

“Shit…” he muttered under his breath, pulling the car off into an empty parking lot.

“Of course…” you sighed, sliding down the passenger seat. “Of course this would happen when you decide to drive me home. Just my luck getting stuck with the biggest asshole in the world.”

“Jesus, y’think you could be a little nicer to me baby? I offered you a drive home and this is how you treat me…? I’m heartbroken.”

You glare over the white-haired boy, wishing you could wire his stupid mouth shut.

The car turns off and the rain just pours and pours relentlessly all over it, cascading down the windshield.

How comical; two people who loathe each other, stuck in a car at night with no friends to call for help because they’re all drunk at the party.

“Well…?” you looked over at him expectantly, fingers massaging into your temple and across your brows.

“What?”

“Aren’t you gonna get out there and fix the damn tire?”

Satoru let out a chuckle. So many girls swore that their crushes on him developed because of that attractive laugh of his, but you couldn’t feel anything but annoyed by it.

“As if. It’s fucking pouring. Why don’t you get out?”

“I’m not getting wet.” You grimace.

He slipped in a dirty joke – because of course he would. “Not yet, anyways.”

“Lay one hand on me and I’ll rip you apart, Satoru!”

“Don’t say my name like that, you’re gonna make me hard.”

“Satoru!”

“Fuck baby, again.” He moaned jokingly. You were seething – seething, you were so ready to punch him.

He just chuckled, enjoying getting you riled up like it was his favorite hobby.

A moment of silence passed. You focused on the sound of the rain to mellow out.

“I’m gonna be honest, I’d let you ride.” He said suggestively.

“What the fuck!” you responded like he was crazy, but something started heating up between your legs.

“Kidding! I could have meant ride my car or something!”

“Uh, yeah right you meant it like that! Damn horny bastard…”

He clicked his tongue and stared out the window. “You’re no fun. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You look at him incredulously, your anger teetering between tame and murderous.

“I almost had a boyfriend…” you seethed bitterly, “Until you spread some insane fucking rumors that drove him away.”

“I did you a favor, that guy was a fucking loser.”

“Like you’re not!”

“Ooh, am I a contender?”

“… what?”

“You’re implying that I’m a potential boyfriend for you.”

“No I’m not! As if you’d be boyfriend material, you’re a soulless fuckboy.”

“I would prefer ‘soulful’ fuckboy because I do fuck with a lot of soul.”

“Jesus you’re ridiculous. How does Suguru put up with you.”

“Don’t say his name like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you wanna fuck him.”

“What?”

“I see the way you look at him.”

“Satoru you’re delusional. I don’t wanna fuck Suguru.”

“That’s a damn lie.”

His voice raised for a moment. A bizarre thing to witness from the most composed man on the planet; it was like witnessing an indestructible object breaking.

“Okay, let’s say it’s a lie and I actually wanna fuck him. What would it matter to you?”

“He’s my best friend, you freak.”

“Yeah so what if he’s your best friend? He’s hot.”

“You mean you would fuck him?!”

Satoru was genuinely getting angry – you weren’t sure if you were scared or turned on, it was a weird feeling. But your thighs squeezed together, and he glanced at them and took note of that.

“No, I’m just saying he’s hot.” You backtracked.

“Damn liar.”

You felt cautiously curious. “What would you do if I fucked him?”

“I’d ki- I’d be mad.” He corrected quickly.

You laughed, “You’d kill me?”

The way he was staring at you had you feeling… feeling a lot, let’s just say. His lips slightly parted, a half-incredulous and half-angry expression on his face, hints of lust in his eyes that lurked behind shades which he always kept slid halfway down his nose.

“No, I wouldn’t kill you.” He said.

You turned to face him fully, “What, you’re telling me you’d kill your best friend if he fucked me?” you asked rhetorically.

Satoru’s lack of response and annoyed jaw clench answered your question.

“That’s crazy! You must like me a hell of a lot.” You said. He felt embarrassed, he felt humiliated – that just pissed him off. “I wasn’t sure you were capable of feeling affection.” You teased.

“I don’t fucking like you.”

“Look who’s the liar now! Shall I come ride you and get the truth out of you myself?”

He stuttered and went red. The boy who was never at a loss for words stuttered because of you. The bastard who never blushed went red because of you.

Satoru shot a look your way. He was so conflicted; he wanted to yank your hair and put you in your place by spitting mean words down your throat, but at the same time he also wanted to shove his tongue in your mouth and sink his cock inside you.

“I don’t let girls ride me.” He said in a lowered tone. “I prefer being in control.”

Now the atmosphere finally changed. It was already dipping into sultry waters from the beginning, but now it plunged. Every word you and him exchanged from this point was laced with bitter lust.

“Maybe you should.” You said, leaning closer towards him. He surreptitiously leaned his elbow on the middle armrest.

“I like being in control.” He said. “Ain’t no way I’d let someone take the wheel.” He said.

Speaking of, his pretty hands were still resting atop the driving wheel. The neon glare from the shopping center signs hit the dashboard.

“… maybe you need to stop being such a control freak and let someone pleasure you.”

His pants tightened.

Satoru looked at you as if he didn’t believe what you just said. You and him bitterly flirted a few times in the past, and tonight at the party too, but it never got this far.

No, it never got this far – as far as him crashing his hungry lips on yours and you crawling over onto his lap. His annoyance and jealousy was palpable, you could taste it on his lips.

He kissed you like he fucking hated you. And he pleasured you like it too – it didn’t take long at all for him to fish out the condoms from his pocket.

“ ‘fucking hate you…” he mumbled into your mouth, tongue poking in and swirling around yours. “Hate your guts. Hate when you talk back to me. Hate that you like my best friend. Fucking slut, ‘m gonna make you forget him t’night.” Satoru promised threateningly, bringing his fingers down to toy at your clit.

“ ‘hate you too…” you whimpered weakly, losing all your dominance under the influence of his touch.

“Shut the fuck up.” He laughed, “You fucking love me. Uh-huh, keep lying, it’s fine – ‘m gonna fuck the truth out of you.” He said, turning your earlier words against you. Oh what an annoying bastard.

He felt you up like he hated how good you felt. His fingers sunk inside your little hole like he was pissed off. “So wet for me, huh?” Satoru smirked against your face.

“Fucking shut up and fuck me already I need it so bad.” You whined annoyedly.

“You don’t deserve it yet.” He seethed, coming in for another kiss – a dirty, filthy, nasty, wet French kiss. It seemed he liked how you tasted.

His fingers worked inside you so good you gushed on his lap. There was no shortage of teasing – but sometimes he threw in an odd praise comment just to stir you up. “Your pussy’s sucking my fingers in so good, pretty baby. ‘That feel good? Yeah? C’mon, tell me you like it. There, that wasn’t so hard now was it? Haha, did you just cum?”

“Satoru!” you whined into his chest, falling to pieces as you gushed around his two fingers that he kept all curled up inside, rubbing back and forth against your G-spot with his fingertips.

“Bet you never reached that deep with your own fingers, huh?” he asked, breath getting hotter.

In fact, you could feel his whole body getting hotter. The outline of his cock was so searing that you felt it through all your layers of clothes.

“Does this turn you on?” he murmured, pulling his pants down so you could take his pretty cock into your hands. “Fucking around with someone you hate? Yeah? Fuck – ahh, yeah stroke it just like that. Get my precum all over your fingers, baby, soak ‘em in it. ‘Want you to smell like my cock after we’re done.”

You pumped his cock until neither of you could wait longer – the both of you kept ripping kiss after kiss like you were starved of each other’s taste despite never having had it before. The rain barely drowned out the erotic breathing and moans that filled Satoru’s car. That stupid, pretty cock of his hit the best spots. You could feel the curve.

“Taking it so well…” he muttered into your mouth, lips glistening with saliva.

“Faster… faster please, ‘Toru fuck me like you hate me.” You begged him.

His eyes lit up.

“Y-yeah? Want me to fuck you like I hate you? Like a slut?” his lips curled into a mouthy smirk when you nodded frantically, “Alright, baby, ‘m gonna fuck that pussy like it deserves – oh fuck – ‘can feel you clinging to me – so fuckin’ tight and messy. Messy fuckin’ pussy – ‘s gonna – ‘s gonna be my pussy, yeah? Just f’me? Good.”

The windows fogged up, your hand pressing to the glass for support as your body bounced against Satoru’s. He let out a long groan and threw his head back. “Baby, ‘gonna cum.” He announced.

“Mmm! ‘yeah ‘m gonna cum too! Gonna cummm ~ ” you cried, completely dazed with pleasure and the feeling of his fat cock filling your pussy in.

“Look at me.” He commanded. “Look into my fucking eyes when you cum. There we go, rub that clit – fuck, so pretty – baby cum, cum with me – yeahhh, fuck ‘m cumming, don’t stop riding me.”

His vocals were straining. You could feel his cockhead twitch and throb.

Just when the both of you hit your highs and rubbed your sweaty bodies together, rolling them erotically, his phone went off. The caller ID showed a familiar face. Satoru composed himself, sucked in a breath, and answered the call from his best friend.

“H-hey, S’guru. Huh? Yeah I got Y/n home safe.” He said while his cock twitched inside you.

When you pressed kisses to his neck, he almost moaned. “Huh? No, no I’m fine. Why? Oh, yeah, no that’s just the rain… yeah I got Y/n home fine. Haha, okay, you do that — oh really? — uh-huh, hey I gotta go I'll call you back later, byeee!”

Satoru smiled at you like a devil, listening to the way your pussy squelched when you slid off his cock.

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leaderwon · 3 months

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hi! could you please do a part 2 to enha forgets ur birthday? pls part 1 was so good🫵🏼🫶🏻 i just wanna see them grovel lol

non!idol enhypen x non!idol reader

forgetting your birthday pt. 2 !

pt. 1

warnings : she/her pronouns used, cursing, crying, mentions of grief.

luna's diary : this one kinda sucks ugh. HELLA RUSHED because I went to a trip (Singapore + Malaysia) AND THE CELL SERVICE WAS terrible I'm so so so sorry anons this is very dissapointing but I felt bad making yall wait for so long. Promise to edit this as soon as I reach home!

HEESEUNG

After the realisation that your boyfriend, had indeed forgotten your birthday, the birthday spirits you had in the starting of the day had blown away. As promised he appeared to your door step with flowers in his hands as he murmured a set of apologies for forgetting your special day. Saying you were mad at your boyfriend would be a huge understatement. You were furious with a hint of disappointment. "baby I'm sorry please" he said as you closed your eyes felt a few tears threatening to fall. Noticing this heeseung hugged you tight and ran his hands in your head wondering how he could make it up to you. He knew he messed up and this couldn't be mended easily. Like a broken dam, your tears started flowing uncontrollably. "How could you forget hee?" you questioned him finally using your voice for the first time since he arrived. "I know pretty girl im so sorry" he said as his voice hitched and eyes swelling up with tears, his mind running on a marathon trying to find ways to make it up to you. Like a bulb lighting above his head, he left you on the spot and rushed to the living room.

A few minutes later he rushed back ushering you to follow him. Upon reaching the living room you saw a beautifully decorated living room with fairy lights, your favourite blankets with your snacks and your favorite movie ready to play. A smiled adorned your features as you heard him say "i know what I did was terrible but let me try to make it up to you".

JAY

He was at a party with the boys when you made him realised that he had messed up the date. He couldn't believe it. This man was shocked, mind blank wtf type shock. By the time he reached home he was already in tears. But when he saw how dark your house was with sadness evident on your face as you slept in your bed he broke down right in front of your sleeping figure.

How could he mess up the date that marks your creation? He was more dissapointed in him than you were tbh. You were soon awaken by the sounds of your boyfriend's cries. "Baby what's wrong?" You questioned him cradling his face. "I'm sorry princess I'm so sorry i can't believe I forgot your birthday"

He was more heartbroken than you were, his emotions all over the place. "Baby it's okay i promise" Cuddles and kisses you the whole night and clears his schedule for the next day.

JAKE

The whole day you patiently waited for Jake to show his existence to you. It was your birthday and you were excited to spend the day with him. But to no avail, he didn't show up. Deciding to occupy yourself with your phone, you saw a notification indicating that Jake had uploaded a story. The light in your eyes faded away as you took in Jake with Iseul, a junior, on your birthday.

Having done with this, you decided to finally text him. Upon realising what he had done, he rushed home to see you on the couch with a dark cloud above your head. "Hey baby" Jake started slowly. "I'm really sorr-" "Save it Jake I don't want to hear it" You responded cutting him off. "But baby you know Iseul is like a younger sister to me" He started again. He was walking on eggshells right now knowing that if he said anything wrong you would crack. "I get that she's a younger sister to you, but Jake it's my birthday, you could have comforted her tomorrow, but my birthday wont be tomorrow" You replied. "I waited for you so long, try and look at this in my point of view Jake" as you said that his eyes softened. "I'm so sorry, i get why you're mad at me baby please let me try and make it up to you" He said trying to mend things. "Just give me time Jake, i don't think I'll get over this easily" You said as you left the house.

You were back 3 hours later, with jake in the same spot you left him. He expression blanked as he looked at you. You were spooked out by him as you stared back at him for a moment. "Are you just gonna stand there for the rest of your life?" You asked giggling. Hearing your precious laughter he looked at you with a slight smile on his face. "Baby, I'm sorry i really am. I don't know how it managed to slip out of my mind. I swear i remembered it I'm so sorry" He said starting to ramble as you looked at him. His words barely registered in your mind due to how fast he was speaking. "Jake it's okay" "and i get it if you're still mad at me and don- wait what?" He asked confused. "You accept my apology?" He continued as you nodded. Finally moving after hours he engulfed you in a hug. "Thank you Thank you, I'll make sure this never happens again" he said gratefully. "You better not do this shit again" You said.

"Now tell me the Iseul tea"

SUNGHOON

When you asked him if he checked his calendar out of the blue he was confused. Why would you suddenly want him to check his calendar?

Upon actually checking his calendar he went pale realising he forgot your birthday, an occasion that shouldn't be remembered through a calendar. This guy was going through five stages of grief.

"no way i forgot my princess' birthday"

"how the fuck did I manage to forget her birthday?"

"God please let this be a dream"

"i forgot her birthday"

"okay i forgot her birthday, let's make it up to her" He said finally reaching the last stage of grief, acceptance. He rushed to your house to see you not there. He called your name multiple times hoping to get an answer from you finally seeing you sitting in the balcony.

"Hey baby, whatcha doin'?" your boyfriend asked you slowly walking towards you. "Nothing just sitting" You replied slowly, sadness evident in your voice. "Baby" Sunghoon starts again sitting next to you this time. He passed you a chocolate eyeing you to open it.

Upon opening it you noticed a small peice of paper with "I love you" and "I'm sorry" written on it. "I don't know how it slipped my mind, princess. But I will make it up to you, I promise". You understood his point of view, it was common to forget stuff. Though you were still hurt by this, you laid your head on his shoulder and the both of you silently enjoyed the scenery your balcony offered in silence.

SUNOO

The day had ended by the time your boyfriend had finally remembered your existence and decided to text you. You had held a party to celebrate your special day with your friends and family hoping to see a sign of sunoo. When sunoo had first texted you, you were shocked to find out that he had absolutely no idea what party or what special occasion you were talking about. You were devastated to find out that not only did he not know what day it was, but he expected you to tell him.

What kind of boyfriend doesn't remember his girlfriend's birthday and then expect her to tell him? You were mad at him with alot of hurt lingering inside you.

The clock read 1:30 am the moment he stepped inside the house. Looking around he saw leftover confetti, balloons and alocholic beverages yet to be picked up. All of this indicating that there was infact a party held. Sunoo knew that what he had done would not take a good turn and that it would take alot of fighting and apologizing to make it up to you. Spotting you with tears in your eyes, he made his way to you slowly pulling you into a hug and started apologizing.

He was sorry and guilty, you knew he was. But him expecting you to tell him that it was your birthday was where you drew the line.

You were unsure on whether you could forgive him at all. He promised to take you out tomorrow and attempt to make it up to you. You knew that wouldn't heal the hurt this had caused you, but you appreciated his efforts and agreed as you hugged him back.

JUNGWON

Out of all the people you liked in your life, you never expected Yang Jungwon to forget your birthday. If someone told you he would, you would laugh your ass off. But now, you were in tears as you held your phone finally deciding to text him.

You were in disbelief as you found out that he thought your birthday was next weekend. Thoughts like "How can someone mess up their lover's birthday?" "does he care less to not know which day" were running through your head.

He rushed into your home apologizing immediately mentioning how much he had planned and got a date wrong. He was on the verge of tears as you looked up at him rambling.

"Baby i promise i remembered, look I even had some gifts prepared" He said as he sped walk towards your shared dresser in the bedroom opening up a random compartment you had no idea existed. "What the fuck? Since when was that there?" You asked him in utter shock.

"It's always been there baby, you never noticed it" Jungwon said taking out a huge amount of gifts for you. "You weren't kidding when you said you were prepared huh?" You spoke as you scanned the bags. "Since last month" He winked at you as he led you to your living room.

"I'm so sorry, i can't believe I forgot your birthday I'm such a bad boyfriend" Jungwon apologized to you as guilt and shamed swirled in his orbs ( is this even right wtf - leaderwon ).l

"Won it's fine, don't worry" You said as a smile finally made its way on your face. "Now let's see what you got me I'm so excited" you said again as you smiled wider in happiness.

NI-KI

You were raging as you watched him play his video games for the entire day. You weren't an anti of games for you were also into playing. But it was your birthday today, a day he was supposed to spend with you instead of the ps5 Jay had gotten him on his birthday last year.

You were heartbroken as you tried to knock some sense into your boyfriend. Unfortunately, it didn't work. Finally giving up, you took your wallet and coat and left the house to get fresh air.

You could feel your phone vibrate as Ni-ki spammed your phone asking where you were. You decided against on replying and just walked ahead. Soon, you heard your boyfriend call your name from behind as he ran towards you. You tried walking faster since you didn't want to be with him at the moment. But your luck was unfortunate as he had legs long asf and caught up to you within moments.

"baby stop, come back home it's late" he begged. "Go back to your game, it's never too late for that" You said in a monotonous tone. "I'm sorry" "Sorry won't fix the day I lost waiting for you to fucking realise and rejecting all my friends who cared enough to want to spend the day with me" You said almost tearing up and walking again.

"I'm sorry" You heard him say as he stopped following you. You never heard his voice be so gentle in the 2 years you have been dating him. His voice sounded like he was on the brink of having a mental breakdown. "I really am" He said again and your heart dropped. You wondered if you were being too harsh on him.

Frozen in place, you could feel the tension in the air as the cool air blew through your hair. You were trying really hard to stay strong and hard but when you turned back to look at him, you could feel your heart drop to your stomach. You knew you were soft for this man, but the moment you looked at him you could feel emotions that you weren't aware yu could feel.

"Please" You heard him say. His eyes were pitiful with a tear threatening to fall. "I know i fucked up but please please let me try and make it up to you". You couldn't bare to see him like this anymore. "Fine" You sighed and walked towards him again.

You were hurt he missed your birthday, yes. But seeing him like that hurt you more. You knew you were deep as you held his hand and walked to the house the both of you resided in.

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klausysworld · 3 months

Note

A prompt I had for a while: reader is a single widowed mother. Klaus and her become close but she’s reluctant as she’s scared to start anything with Klaus as she’s worried her daughter may get attached. Klaus is adamant he loves reader and her daughter.

Just fluff and stuff!

Bonus: smut? And even a lil addition to the family that’s a mix of Klaus and reader 👶

Life goes on

I had only dated a couple of guys since losing my husband.

It had taken a while to allow myself to feel okay with being someone else, especially because of Luna; my daughter. She's only young, barely 6 and I didn't want her to think I was replacing her father, not that she really remembers him much now. Years had passed now and sometimes she would ask where her daddy was and why he couldn't visit.

I had only let her meet one other guy before and she was more heartbroken than I was when it didn't work out so I knew I needed to keep her away from that aspect of my life, especially while she was so young.

But that didn't mean that I didn't date.

It wasn't a frequent thing, just when I found someone I really liked and well, I really liked Nik.

We met at Luna's school actually. He also has a daughter who's a few years older and we had just dropped them off. I accidentally caught his eye when I took a glance round the playground and we smiled at each other politely.

He was a sight for sore eyes: good hair, nice eyes, charming smile, lean body and a nice sense of fashion. An annoying sense of guilt always filled me when I found another man attractive so I looked away and headed to work.

Still though, I couldn't help look for him and his smile every morning when I dropped Luna off and every afternoon when I picked her back up. He would always be looking back at me as his own daughter would run on over to him and he would take her backpack from her and give me a look as if to say "Kids, am I right?" and I would always smile a little wider and gesture to my own who would always be pulling on my sleeve telling me she wanted to go home or to a friends house.

It made me jump a little the first time he actually spoke to me, he had appeared behind me as though out of thin air and quickly apologised when I flinched away at the sound of his voice and placed my hand over my chest.

He chuckled as he spoke, "Forgive me, I didn't mean to frighten you"

His voice had a beautiful accent that made my cheeks blush pink and my attention to focus on him completely.

"That's okay, I just wasn't paying attention" I dismissed and he smiled

"I'm Nik" he introduced and I felt my heart flutter a little bit in a way that I knew I would feel bad about later.

"Y/n" I whispered and he hummed as he took my hand and kissed that back of it, I couldn't help but laugh at the outdated gesture and he rolled his eyes playfully.

I glanced over to the doors where I was waiting for Luna to come out briefly before turning back to him. He had a curious sort of look in his eye that made me ask if something was wrong but he shook his head.

"I just don't understand why you're single" he murmured and I felt my eyes go to the floor as I hesitated because there was no right way to every tell somebody that my husband had died and since then my life was a mess. So I turned away from him and tried to swallow the memory of my husbands death away but then I felt his Nik's on my arm and the gentle act reminded me of him. "I don't mean to offend you" he told me, his tone soft and it made me feel worse.

"You didn't, I'm sorry my daughters here now so I have to go" I whispered, walking forward to meet Luna as she already had her hand outstretched to hold onto mine.

I tried not to look at him the next day.

Dating was complicated enough, dating a man who's child went to the same school as mine was too much.

However, for better or worse, no matter how much I tried to ignore him, our eyes always seemed to meet and as the days passed we ended up stood closer and closer together. Once we were so close, it felt rude to ignore him so we would talk. Not really about anything important or deep, mostly parent things and what sorts of things the girls were up to. It was a conversation topic that was easy and didn't open up too many personal questions.

I started to like him, more than I wanted to. But so did other moms and teachers for that matter even though most of them were married. Woman were cruel sometimes, often I wondered if they just never evolved from highschool.

For whatever reason, they didn't like that I was a single mother, despite it not being my fault or choice. Luna and I had moved here after my husband died but I only had to tell one person for the whole town to know that I was widowed and struggling.

Klaus wasn't aware for a while, not until one of the other moms filled him in.

I had gotten to school a little late because work and ran over, I was never late but unfortunately I had been that day but I rang the school to let them know even though it was only a few minutes so that Luna wasn't stood waiting.

When I got there Luna was running toward me crying and I quickly lifted her up asking what was wrong.

"They're talking about Daddy" she whimpered and I quickly looked over. Two woman were talking to eachother, loudly. Nik was looking right at me and I felt my face heating up as the moms spoke about how felt for someone like me and they wondered how I managed to even get out of bed each morning let alone flirt with other men after losing my husband.

I kissed Luna's head gently and whispered for her to ignore it before walking briskly to my car and strapping her in. I wiped away the tears that threatened to spill and went round to my side of the car.

Fast paced footsteps approached me before I heard his voice. "Y/n, love, are you alright?" he asked, his hand going to my upper back in an act of comfort and it made my eyes water again.

"I'm fine" I whispered but it came out as weak and unconvincing as I felt.

I didn't have it in me to push myself away from him when he pulled me into a hug, his hand stroked the back of my hair and I cried into his shoulder. I knew Luna could see me hugging a man from her carseat and it made me cry harder at the thought.

"It's alright" he mumbled while his arms seemed to circle me tighter. I tried to apologise but he shushed my sorrys away and helped wipe my tears away. I glanced over to where his daughter, Hope, was stood. She gave me a sympathetic smile and waved a little, Klaus handed Hope the keys to his car and asked he to wait for a moment before turning back to me. "Hope lost her mother due to childbirth" he told me and I softened all that more.

"I'd say I'm sorry but... I know that's not really something you want to hear again" I whispered and he smiled a little.

"You'd be correct" he muttered and I glanced back at Luna who held a worried but curious expression. I looked back at him and nodded before letting go of me and opening my car door for me. I sniffed and thanked him before getting into my seat and watching him walk over to his own car before driving home.

Luna asked who he was and I told her he was just another dad from school, but I knew she wasn't as clueless as she acted.

Thankfully it was a Friday so I didn't have to see Nik for a couple of days, or any of the moms. Just Luna and I.

Once Monday came back around I didn't feel like facing the stuck up bitches of the community so watched Luna go in from my car and waved to her teacher at the door so they knew how Luna got there. I went to get back into my car when Nik's voice called out for me and captured my attention once more.

"I do hope you aren't avoiding me, love" he called as he grew nearer and I quickly shook my head.

"No, not you" I replied and his brows pulled together briefly before a look of realisation and sympathy washed over his face.

"They don't know what they're saying. Nobody knows how it feels until they've gone through it, not that I want any of them to but it would help a little if they understood at least a fraction of the pain" he expressed and I couldn't have worded it better myself.

"I just don't know how people can be so unempathetic" I mumbled and he nodded solemnly.

"The world" he muttered "is a cruel place. It always has been." somehow he sounded as if he truly knew that and I found myself questioning it.

"Will it always be?" I whispered and he shook his head.

"Not for everyone. Not for you, I won't allow it." he told me, honesty shining in his eyes that made a blush spread to my ears and a smile to creep across my face.

"I won't hold you to it" I breathed but he shook his head and took my hand, kissing the back of it making my eyes roll.

"I don't tend to break promises" he uttered before squeezing my hand and letting me go to work for the day.

Later we both got to school early to see the other though neither of us outwardly confirmed it, we both knew. That was when he asked if I was ever free to go out for lunch or dinner or anything. I was reluctant and he could see that,

"It doesn't have to be a date" he offered, "just friends getting something to eat or drink or going on a walk..."

After a moment I agreed and told him that one of my neighbours would be happy to babysit Luna for a couple hours after work or on the weekend. The elderly lady next door was lovely and welcoming, she gave sympathy immediately and loved Luna from day one and had watched over her a couple times throughout the last couple years.

We just went and got some coffee and went for a walk to begin with. It was nice to ease into it. The last guy I went out with expected way too much on the first date while Nik kissed my cheek and knew that was enough for that day. Somehow he seemed to know everything, when to make a move and when to slow down. He could read me like a book and under different circumstanced that would scare me but I didn't feel afraid with him.

So I started to see him more frequently, more romantically.

He would take me to fancy restaurants and refuse to let me even see the check which to begin with was cute but started to make me feel guilty which he picked up on and explained that he didn't want me to ever think about money when I was with him. He said that he had more than he knew what to do with and spoiling me made him happy. I wasn't completely settled with this answer but I accepted it a bit.

We ended up making it into a little game. We would see which one of us could grab the check the fastest, he almost always won but every now and then I would manage to snatch it up, he would be trying to get it off of me but I would threaten to scream so he had to stop tickling. On occasion, if he had to go to the bathroom, I would manage to pay the bill before he was able to intervene and he would strop over it and end up buying me something worth much more that the date.

Everything about it was heavenly, accept for the comments and opinions of others. However it seemed that people only seemed to step out of line once before they never spoke ill of me again, it was strange but somehow I knew that Klaus had something to do with it.

This was confirmed when he dropped be home and my neighbour: Dorothy, or Dot was stood outside with a hard expression on her face as she held a sleeping Luna. I approached with a confused frown.

"What's wrong?" I asked worried and her eyes snapped to mine.

"That's the man you're seeing?" she asked, her tone judgemental and I didn't understand the switch up. I nodded, confused and she tightened her hold on Luna making my eyes narrow in concern. "You stop talking to that man right now. He is no good and never will be. A monster is that man and I will not allow him to be in Luna's life nor yours." she argued and I frowned.

"Dot- what on earth are you on about?" I asked, alarmed.

"He is the devil reincarnated. You stay away." she warned as she handed me Luna. "You don't understand now but you will if you stay near him. He'll ruin whatever good you have."

I didn't know what she was on about, or why or how she knew Nik but Dorothy was not a liar and she was not a hateful person so to see her voice such a harsh opinion spoke volumes.

I was a little more skeptical around Nik, but I also didn't really know what I was looking for. He just seemed upset and stressed when I turned down the third date in a row.

It made me feel awful so I went to Dot and started to demand answers.

Now, I'll be honest, I thought she was losing it when she started talking about vampires and werewolves and witches. But when I tried to leave the door slammed shut without her touching it and the fireplace flames roared.

"You have to listen to me dear, and you have to really hear me to be able to understand" she whispered, leading me back to the sitting room where she went into depth regarding her own witch heritage and then the originals and Nik or rather Niklaus.

Luna knew something was wrong when I let her have a couple days off school and she asked if it was because of Nik. She wasn't naive and she knew that I liked him more than others.

Eventually she asked to go back to school, being at home for so many days was boring so I took her in.

There was no way of avoiding Niklaus when he was waiting beside my car with a look of hurt throughout him. I tried to ignore him and just open the door but his hand touched my arm and I pulled away quickly. He caged me against the car and I could feel fear consuming me.

"Y/n" he murmured, his tone so soft that it confused me again. "Love, if I've done something to upset to upset you or scare you..." He trailed, his hands cupping both sides of my face and I couldn't help but enjoy the warmth he always had. I didn't want to look at him, I didn't know how to get out of the situation I was in and it was making me panic further.

"I need to go to work" I whispered quietly, weakly.

"I know..." he mumbled, "but...I need you and... you won't even look at me"

"You don't need me Nik" I told him, "It was only a few dates-"

"It's not" he argued

"We haven't slept together so it's not a big deal-"

"That's a lie and you know it" he whispered, exasperated.

I glanced up at him, and then I wasn't able to look away. He was right, it was a much bigger deal than I wanted to admit. We had connected on a much more emotional level than anyone I had before, other than my husband those years ago.

"We can't be together" I whispered and his frown deepened

"Did I kiss you too soon? I never meant to rush you" he muttered, concern displayed across his face

"It's not that-"

"Then what-"

"You're a vampire!" I whisper-yelled and his mouth snapped shut. "Or a hybrid or something...I don't...I can't..."

He stayed silent and stepped back, allowing me to open my car door and get in. I didn't hesitate in driving away.

I didn't see him when I picked up Luna however I did receive a message later that evening.

Hello, my love I do hope you'll one day forgive me for keeping my true identity a secret. I never meant to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable, however I suppose that's why I didn't tell you. I like you very much, more than I have liked someone in many years and I love that you're such a lovely mother. I've thoroughly enjoyed our dates and I had hoped that we would progress our relationship however I understand that you are afraid for yourself and for Luna. Know that I would never, ever harm your daughter. I have one of my own and I know what it's like to love and worry for a child. I would never hurt either of you. Still, I know you will probably feel alarmed by my presence so I'll leave you be is that's would you want, all I ask is that you please don't tell others of my species as it puts Hope's life endanger and all I want is for her and you to be safe. I don't expect a reply but know that I will always have a space for you in my heart.

I could feel my heart aching as I read down to the bottom line.

I didn't see him anywhere for the next too weeks and I found myself missing him terribly.

Eventually I couldn't take it. I found that I didn't see him as anything other than a man. Not a monster or a threat. Just someone I cared for deeply and knowing that I had hurt him made me feel terribly guilty.

So I ended up messaging for him to meet me outside a little cafe. I had already ordered and paid for our drinks and was sat at a table waiting for him to arrive anxiously.

He got there exactly on time like always and sat opposite me with a singular flower for in his hand which he held out for me and I accepted with a small smile.

"Thank you" I whispered and his lips curled up as his hand moved to hold my hand and I let him, holding his back.

We spoke for a while, discussed who he was and how he got here, his intentions and any of my other questions before talking about our relationship again. I told him about my neighbour and he said he knew her last name and that decades ago her family had been involved with his brother, Kol, which resulted in a rather brutal and tragic even.

He admitted to being apart of the massacre and didn't attempt to justify his actions but just apologised for them and offered to formally apologise to Dorothy.

So, I brought him to her home and she instantly attacked him. It was only when I got in the way and she accidentally hurt me instead that she stopped. I was holding onto my head and crying while Klaus held me to his chest and tried to have me drink his blood which I now knew would heal me but the idea of it made me gag. Eventually I let the metallic taste fill my mouth and swallowed it down, the pain went away in a matter of seconds and Dot was hysterically sorry.

Klaus wouldn't let her near me and instead lifted me up and took me home. Dot begged me not to invite him in but I did so anyway.

He sat me down on the couch and kept asking if I was still hurt no matter how many times I told him that I was okay. He seemed more sorry than Dorothy and wouldn't stop checking me over.

It made me see just how much he cared and how honest he was being when he said he didn't want any harm to come to me. I could also see him resisting the urge to go back over to Dot after her causing me pain.

Eventually we had to go get Hope and Luna. No other parents so much as glanced our way when we both arrived in my car and I glanced to Klaus with the sneaking suspicion that he had compelled some of the women there but I didn't ask.

I let him officially meet Luna and although she was shy, she told me that she liked him once we got home.

Hope and Luna had a couple of play dates and everyone was getting along.

Luna started to ask for Nik sometimes, and once or twice she had accidentally called him 'dad' or 'daddy' though she would deny it afterwards and cry because she didn't want her father to think she was replacing him which would break my heart without fail.

Hope was a little older than Luna so more mature, Klaus didn't have the same issues I was having.

It had been months, over a year since our first date and Klaus told me that he loved me. It was a reality check of sorts. It scared me a little.

I had to start really thinking. Klaus was immortal and hope had powers. Luna and I would never be anything more than human. We would never be powerful and one day I would get old and Klaus wouldn't love me the way he does now, for all I know another woman could catch his eye and he would leave Luna and I right back where we were. Alone.

It worried me more when Luna asked if Nik and Hope could live with us. It was something I know Nik had considered, he had spoken about it a couple times but we never really came to a final decision. However I had to think about that now.

Klaus was already adamant that I shouldn't have to work so much but the fear of him leaving, or worse...dying, made me cling onto my job for stability. I couldn't ever risk not having a roof over Luna's head and that meant never relying on anybody. I know Nik doesn't really understand that fear. He promises that, even though it won't ever happen, if we did break up then he would never let myself or Luna to be struggling.

"I could never do that to you" he promised after I told him of the thoughts that haunted my head.

"Not now maybe...but I don't know...what if something really bad happened?" I asked quietly and he frowned, cupping my jaw and kissing my forehead as we lay in my bed for the third night in a row while Luna and Hope had another sleepover a couple doors over.

"Nothing could ever be bad enough for me to do that" he whispered and I looked down as i traced meaningless shapes onto his bare chest.

"What if...what if you were killed or something?" I mumbled, wincing at the thought and memories.

"Then I would leave everything to you and you and Luna and Hope would be living like royalty" he murmured and I game him an unconvincing half-smile.

"Well...what if something happened to me?" I questioned and he went quiet, just looking at me for a moment before replying.

"Then I would raise Luna as well as I could, and we would think of you and love you always" he finally answered and I lay my head down against his shoulder, staring at nothing in particular.

“You have to promise…that even if you hate me, you can’t ever hate Luna” I whisper. His hold tightened on me and I was pulled as close as physically possible.

“I promise” he agreed as I closed my eyes as I tried to relax as much as I could.

I won’t lie, I had to be reassured more than I thought. I just couldn’t stop the worries.

But Klaus always had the perfect thing to say, he always made me feel safe and comfortable. He made Luna happy and he was a new beginning for both of us. Him and Hope were our family now, Always and Forever.

(I’m so sorry I didn’t add any smut or another addition…maybe I could make a part two and involve their family growing?? I think I got too invested in the emotional side when writing)

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