#and my head hurts too much to even look at my computer or phone for more than 5 minutes so im either sleeping or staring at nothing

[lcevinolusola]

.

#if i dont get over this cold immediately im gonna start killing #my head hurts my eyes hurt my back hurts i cant stop fucking sneezing im so tired AAAHHHHHHHHHHHH #its not covid thank god but i HATE being sick this sucks this sucks this sucks i have no energy for anything #and my head hurts too much to even look at my computer or phone for more than 5 minutes so im either sleeping or staring at nothing #february i will remember this ive done nothing to you this is bullshit!!!!!! #personal

[soapoet]

A letter from your future spouse

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Hello,

You must be up to something, because I cannot get you off my mind. Day and night you haunt me. I type away on my computer, answer phone calls, and I could swear I saw you in the corner of my eyes. At night as I begin to drift, I hear your voice and jolt up, only to be met with an empty room entirely void of you. When you're really here with me in the flesh, I look at you only when you look away. Will I be punished for these stolen glances? You and I, are we forbidden, and if so, who will be the judge?

I thought my life was stable, and in many ways it was. Though it was painted grey, dull. I lived dreary mondays every day of the week. I chased after new experiences, new achievements, new opportunities, new things. New, new, new, new. But it was not until you walked into my life that I truly felt the warmth of the sun and the rain on my skin. Was I colour blind all along? Because you show me colours I never even knew existed. You were truly new. A new light in my life that shines so brightly, but never hurts my eyes. Still I look away. It's not proper, is it? I've been caught up in the crossfire, amidst a battle between head and heart. You're in my heart, you have it in your hands, but didn't I say you are constantly on my mind too? It seems then, my dear, that this battle has a victor, and now I must prcoeed to gather up the courage to speak what I've so carefully kept hidden.

Oh, but you're so observant. You already know. You knew all along, didn't you? You so innocently sat there, knowing I'm a moth to the flame, and that come hail or shine I would find my way to you. You're a mastermind. An architect, the keeper of the blueprint to our tale. I am in awe of you. You were supposed to be a problem, a silly crush I could get over and never act upon, but now I'm thinking of things borrowed and blue. The first day that I saw you lightning struck. It marked the beginning of the end for many things in my life which I had kept around because it was fine. Not perfect, just fine. Suddenly I saw all the cracks and flaws, saw that which I would tolerate, go along with, even when I really didn't want to. You shook me to my core. In many ways, you ruined my life. For the better, I am sure. But for a moment there I wondered what horrors you had unleashed upon me. With your face so sweet and innocent I thought surely you would be unable to trigger earthquakes. And that even if you could, surely you were much too sweet and much too kind to do such thing.

Yet here I stand, amidst the rubble of what I used to call my life. Everything came crashing down because none of it was as stable as it should've been. I'm rebuilding, slowly, and could use some guidance or inspiration. What's your favourite colour? Would you like these tiles for the kitchen? I want to build my life up to look like the perfect home for you. I wish to keep you safe. You've weathered storms just as I have. Had to grow quickly, like dandelions through concrete. You're tired, and I don't want to see you quitting so I am building you a shelter. I promise to keep watch while you get some rest in my arms. When you're healed and strong enough I will provide you the space and time so you can chase your dreams in peace. You can use our home as the foundation for your castle. I know the power you hold, and I will be there to help you wield it.

Sincerely, your future spouse.

02.

Hello,

Coincidentally that is exactly when I knew. "You had me at hello" is such a cliché, but I swear that it is true. I always know trouble when I see it, and you are quite the nightmare indeed. I hope you take no offence to my words. I say what I mean and mean what I say. That typically results in problems, but to me it's another one to toss onto the existing pile. I have a lot of baggage, but if you don't mind, I won't mind yours. Maybe we could get a big storage locker and shove all our baggage in there, lock the door and toss the keys, skip town and never return. It'll all be auctioned off one day for somebody else to deal with. Wouldn't that be nice?

Where was I? Right. Hello. That's when I knew. I always do. I fall very quickly and passionately. Really I leap off into free fall all by my own judgement, sometimes perhaps lack thereof. I know a pretty thing when I see it, though pretty isn't enough, is it? I've learned that the hard way. As I've learned most things. Behind me lays a trail of burnt bridges and broken hearts, though most of those pieces are my own. Most people are unable to tell. I have a reputation, but I think the judgement is unjust. Wholly unfair. I have developed trust issues. Betrayal cuts deep. You know that, don't you? I keep people at bay, and guard my territory fiercly. I am very loyal and I am known for my equal bark and bite. I want to be your guard dog. I swear I will lunge for the jugular if anybody dares cross you. I am protective, albeit a little reckless. I have a lot of scars to prove it.

Little birdies may warn you of me. Tell twisted tales of my exploits. I've been called toxic. Perhaps there is truth to some of it. My love burns bright and hot, but it never wavers. I crave closeness, and wish to crawl into the heart and mind of my target of affections like a spider trespassing into your home to weave its webs in the darkest corners. I want to know you better than anybody else. Know your body, mind, heart, and your soul like it is my own. You will never be left wanting reassurance, because I have known doubt, and doubt is my enemy and I will fight it on sight. You will always know that I am yours. With me you have nothing to fear. Least of all me or my commitment to you and us.

Perhaps we both had to scrape our knees as we crawled through painful loves before we found each other. Together we'll be powerful. A dynamic duo, partners in crime. Those closest to me would come forward as witnesses to my ride or die nature, and you as my life partner will be my biggest testament to this part of my character. You're not too different, are you? You would die for your people, fight with your bare hands if you had to. Together we will face the world. I'll have your back and you'll have mine, a 360° of the battlefield. We can tear down and build up whatever we want. We can build an empire, or bring them down. With you by my side, everything is possible. I would move mountains and part seas for you. Your love is an enchanted rose and I am a beast, and I will wait for you. Come to me quickly.

Sincerely, your future spouse.

03.

Hello,

I hope my words don't bore you with their simplicity. I also hope that you've been well. I have so many questions, but let us not rush. There is no finish line in love, correct? I've been alright. Y'know, ups and downs. I've kept to myself a lot. Self improvement has become akin to an occupation. I always strive to do and be better. I may not seem the kind, but I have a soft heart which I guard closely. I like old timey romance and watch sappy things when I am down. Please don't tell anybody! I am a rock, but for a long time I was but a pebble, kicked around and misplaced. I have moved around a lot and all I want is to grow roots. Would you mind sparing a little spot in your garden? I just need a little sunlight and a fall of rain to grow. I promise I won't waste your time and do my all to never disappoint you.

My affections build slowly. Too slow for many, but I hate accidents and mistakes, at least my own. I strive for perfection, though people tell me it does not exist. I see it in you, though, so they must be wrong. Sure, you have your flaws, but the glue between your cracks glisten in the light and are still beautiful to me. I really do enjoy the simple things. Do you stop to smell the roses too? I have a gentle love to offer. A kitchen bathed in morning sunlight and the smell of pancakes in the air. I'll eat the first pancakes, because the ones I bring to you in bed should be perfect, and the first one never is. You deserve so much good, and I really hope I can provide a lot of that good to you by my own hands.

I am shy, and don't always have a way with words. I will tell you through music how I feel, or paint you on a canvas in all your favourite colours. I'll help you sculpt your dreams and wishes. I'd make a great assistant. I would love to follow you on your way up ladders and mountains. I believe in you like some believe in a higher power. You can put your faith in me too. Love is a choice, and I will make the choice to love you every morning when I rise. You are the kind of fun that doesn't make me ill. The adventure I am unafraid to embark on. We can play our own roles and support each other. I'll be of service to you at every step if you need me. In return I only ask that you hold me close and never let me go.

I fear abandonment, and have known a life without guidance. I've become rigid, and hope that you'll help me bend without snapping and show me the wonders of the unknown. With you by my side I won't be afraid. My skepticism will not be a hindrance because you lead me into uncharted territory as though you have a map, and I trust that you know where we're going. And should uncertainty rise, well, I have dealt with that beast plenty, and I can tame it and send it on its way should it bother you. I will always stand by you so that never again will you need to face challenges alone. You are a promise I will keep forever if you let me.

Sincerely, your future spouse.

04.

Hello,

Have you eaten? Taken your meds? Keep yourself hydrated. Take even just a sip. I apologise if I'm fussing, but I've always been a caregiver. People depend on me. At home, at work, even my friends. I get taken advantage of pretty easily, and I try my best to keep my boundaries. Though I am admittededly prone to a bit of a saviour complex. It's not so much that I don't think others cannot get up on their own, I just think they shouldn't have to. A helping hand is often rare these days. For many, even just the day to day grind is unbearable, so any chance to take the load off another's shoulders and let them rest and catch their breath I'll happily take.

I try my best to be fair, but often lose sight of what's best for me. I want to help and support everyone who needs it, but in my quest to save everyone, I have often abandoned myself. My care is often expected and thus taken for granted. Nobody seems to understand how much it hurts. Well, until I met you anyway. You're a little fire cracker. You have a great presence despite your size. You're honest and so very clever. I was instantly in awe by your radiance, your willpower, your resilience and your strength. You taught me important lessons. I'm older than you but sometimes I feel like a student listening to my teacher preach. You're opinionated and steadfast, and have such a strong sense of justice. You call it like it is, and have called me out aplenty. Always well-intentioned. You get worked up easily, and I find it rather cute. You scold me like a parent their child when I don't take up enough space, don't hold my head high, or when I give away too much for free. You are objective and fair, never tell me I'm right or wrong unless I really am. It's refreshing. You're like a breath of fresh air.

It pains me to hear of your past. How you've been to hell and back. You face struggles even when you really can't or feel like giving up. You always get back up again, always try to find another way around when an obstacle sits in the way of where you're going. You've lived life on hardmode, and now I yearn to make things easier for you. You if anyone deserves my devotion. I know you are much too just to take advantage of my kindness and return my love in earnest. I trust you, and that says a lot as I've only ever been able to trust myself.

Would you let me be your safe space? We can build you a nest and make sure you have the nicest, softest things and plenty of snacks. I wish to provide you the space and time to really relax and let your guard down. You can safely get in touch with your inner child and heal them from all their past wounds. I will guard your sanctuary and let you be free and able to go wherever your heart desires. Let your curiosity guide you, and I will follow and keep bandaids in my pocket should you stumble and fall. You don't need to be strong all the time, and you need not be ready for battle at all hours of the day. I will take the wheel and take us in the direction of your choice whilst you rest safe and sound for as long and as much as you want and need.

Sincerely, your future spouse.

05.

Hello,

Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear, ay? Am I late, or were you just early? It seems as though you've been waiting a long time. Wasted your time kissing a whole lot of frogs, huh? Settled for good enough? Jumped from ship to ship like a pirate looking for the best loot? Well, congratulations! You made it. I'm here now! I'm just kidding, but I am, in fact, very happy now that you found me. Lots of hurdles to get over, had to crumple up many plans and ideas and kick yourself into gear on the career front. I'm far from your finish line, I am merely a little prize for a job well done. And now you'll have me by your side for the next chapters. Oh, the adventures we will have! How exciting, I can hardly wait.

Something important you had to learn before you got here is beating the status quo to the curb. You always did struggle with fitting into a neat little box and following orders, didn't you? Yet so many fools tried to bend your will and make you follow a nice little step by step pre-determined program. Hah, as if you'd ever be happy giving up your freedom like that. And I adore that about you. To hell with the status quo. I never do what is expected of me unless I myself set or agreed to those expectations. This is my life, and your life is yours. Wanna dance? Because I'll choose to court you on sight, and I hope you don't make me look like yet another fool because truly, I tell you, our dance will be an exhilarating one. We can both lead, because screw the rules!

Do not mistake my arrogance and my eleutheromania as purely egoic and a sign of wavering commitment. Though I have my admirers and my comrades, I am fiercly loyal. I do intend to flaunt you, because you are a dream come true worthy of the spotlight. I hope you're not shy, and if you are, then well, it'll be that much more entertaining for me to see you flustered by all the attention and applause. So learn to take a compliment, kiddo, because you just hit the jackpot and the prize includes a lifetime supply of praise. Along with a steadfast support system, as not only will I be at your beck and call, I fully intend to introduce you to my network of friends in higher places. Fret not, because your wildest dreams will soon appear mundane as together with some found family we will get where you are going so much faster than you've been going before.

Speaking of family, I'm not very close with mine. Perhaps neither are you, so you will understand the feeling of always having to do everything yourself and not having the kind of safety net that a family can provide. This is why I have collected friends over the years to whom I serve as family and they the same for me in return. In my anxieties of abandonment and neglect, I do everything in my power to help and support my loved ones because I know what it feels like to be without as much as encouragement on this journey of life. If you ever need some kind words, I'll be sure to whisper them in your ear and shout your name from the rooftops. You deserve the world, so pack your bags. We have tickets to explore it all.

Sincerely, your future spouse.

06.

Hello,

I pray you did not hear me talking to myself. I cry out into the void often. My mind, always abuzz with what ifs and wonder, has its way of driving me mad. Often I feel like a mad scientist, fixated on something so long I fail to take care of all my human needs. Before I know it, the sun has set and made way for the night. I recognise the passing of time only when I notice it is dark and the only source of light is the screen right on front of me. I have so many tabs open in my head I don't always notice what goes on around me. But you startled me. Admittededly I did not notice right away, but when I did I was shocked. It must've been weeks before I zoned out, watching your face as I thought of absolutely nothing. I waited for you to finish whatever it was that you were occupied with, and then it hit me. You're beautiful and I like you.

It feels easy to be around you. I can't say the same for many people, if any. I have had plenty of offers, but competing against my solitude is difficult. A race few finish, and none truly come out of as the victor. I get bored easily, and I must be honest and admit that though I may be quickly intrigued and glue myself to my newest interest, my attention is hard to keep. I enjoy the rush of newness, and yearn for a love that stays fresh and full of intrigue. And I found that in you. For you lead your own life, explore your own paths, then report back to me your newest finds. We pick apart things and situations like mechanics figuring out all the parts of a new machine. Then we go and find new things to inevitably share, and sometimes we journey together too. There is always something. I no longer feel like I am the only one keeping the conversation going. No longer the one in charge of every who and what and how and why and when and where. You pull your own weight. For once I, too, feel fascinating. And not only do I feel interesting, I find you equally interesting. It didn't drop for either of us.

Some may look at us strangely, but good heavens, are some people so easily lulled into a boring and mundane routine. Every time I would cry out my woes, I was called childish. Told that love will and should settle into a comfortable and steady routine. That it is normal for the excitement of newness to fade as you get to know someone. I refused to believe every relationship was doomed to become such a snooze. And I am glad you did too, because you keep growing as I grow and our vines they intertwine and part ways and cross again in this intricate web of possibilities. To know you is to be a student of law or medicine. Doctors and lawyers practice their craft, they're not fixed by a mere degree because neither law or medicine is fixed. It is ever-changing and developing. I pinch myself because I can hardly believe I found another student like me.

Never fear I will leave you feeling stupid. I am aware of my own merit, but never wield it against anyone, unless needed. You are very clever and you have strengths and skills that I do not. I promise to be there to listen, especially in times when nobody else will. I have known loneliness and neglect. My curiosity is a form of escapism as I run away from the eldritch horrors of my past. Please be direct with me. Within me lives a tired old hopeless romantic, whom I locked away in shame as I was told it never plays out like in the movies. But you've proved to me that it actually does. And for you I'll do anything. Though you sometimes leave me tongue tied and flustered, you stabilize me. As thanks you'll have my loyalty and devotion. I'm used to taking care of others, and I know my care won't be misplaced on you. I read people easily already, but please allow me to study your face and note down every micro-expression so that I will always be able to tell how you are feeling even when you feel unable to put it into words.

Sincerely, your future spouse.

#pac reading #tarot reading #energy reading #intuitive reading #pick a card reading #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #love reading #love pac #tarotblr #soapy.post

[januaryembrs]

THERE'S NO SIGN OF LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [3]

Description: The one where you grieve Emily together (+ the one where you kiss him)

word count: 7.9k

trigger warnings: okay so this chapter is exactly how it sounds, heavy in themes of grief, depression, anger, slight ideation of the world being better without bugsy (as if), DRUG USE (once and not addictively and not by Spencer!), mention of Spencer being horny, mention on blood and drinking.

authors note: this was just supposed to be a little filler chapter for the next one where the real juicy shit happens and long story short it became nearly 8k words of pure angst until the last minute when I decided to stop hurting you all. please don't hate me, promise a big boy chapter is coming up.

previous chpt | next chpt

'Doctor, look into my eyes.

I've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life.'

The team had fallen into chaos since Emily died. Hotch thought that just five little stages of grief weren’t quite enough to summarise what they were going through.

Morgan was pissed off by the smallest things, had flipped shit just that morning because the printer had jammed. He'd gone through two mugs and a keyboard in just two weeks in his tempers that had certainly seen better days.

Penelope’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears she was trying her hardest to choke down, to wipe away so fast she could pretend to still see her computer screen, but Hotch didn’t need to be a profiler to see the way her sleeves were smudged with mascara, sodden through 24/7. 

Rossi seemed resigned, tired, his breath smelled faintly of the strong whiskey he saved for special occasions, his hair unkempt, as though he hadn’t slept until the early hours, or if he had it had been unrestful. He took more frequent breaks, came back smelling like the cigars he kept in his desk drawer for the bad days, and he sighed as if the world beat down on his back, like he’d been asked to choose between stopping world hunger or saving the environment. His chest was heavy. His face was tired of losing so many friends he loved.  

Spencer was working himself to the bone, his desk piled with books (even more so than usual), his fingers twitching by his side more often, as if his brain cells had been dialled up to a thousand percent, which was saying something when it came to Reid. In fact the only thing out of ordinary was the fact he was constantly checking his phone, the sight of which had Pen dropping her coffee on the rough carpet, which she had promptly then excused herself with watery eyes over. Yes, he actually knew how to use technology, which he had been so vehemently against for years, until the team realised it was because one very important member of the team had been using her sick days for three weeks now. 

They knew he was looking after her, that he would bring her dinner and make sure the cats were fed, but they had no idea she had all but moved in with him, Niko and Sergio included. 

Yet he found himself checking the screen every twenty minutes or so for signs of an update, even just a thumbs up or a little sign that said seen under his good morning texts. He was scared he’d wandered too far into boyfriend territory, it certainly felt that way when he would come home to see her bundled on the couch, nose deep in one of the books he would leave out for her, how her eyes would light up just the tiniest amount to see him home. She rarely cooked, he knew she didn’t even touch the food in his fridge no matter how much he reminded her she needed to eat when he wasn’t there, to which she usually just nodded at him and buried her head in his arm to escape the scoldings. 

Things were different with her here. He knew she was vulnerable, lost, he saw it every time she came crawling into his bed from where he’d set her up in the spare room, or when Sergio made himself home on her lap and she squeezed the cat to her chest in quiet tears. Usually he would have squirmed out of her grip, he had always preferred Emily, but these days he just let her sob with a docile blink at where Spencer watched her from the other end of the couch, and pretended not to notice when his fur was sodden and messed up. 

Spencer had felt something for her before, the weeks, months even leading up to Emily dying, but with her here, needing him all the time, holding him tightly when he needed to grieve himself, making herself at home in his personal space, he was sure she knew it too. There was no way she didn’t know how he felt. 

But the topic was too heavy, too complex to bring up with her mourning her sister, it would rip the carpet out from beneath her feet, and no matter how heavily, besottedly, how deeply Spencer felt he loved her, he would never do that to her. He couldn’t. 

He had always loved mind games, but loving someone so much you couldn’t not tell them, only to not tell them because you loved them so much felt like a whole paradox even he couldn’t wrap his big brain around. 

So they stayed where they were. She had good days, though they usually looked like said reading on the sofa with nothing but a strong cup of coffee in her stomach. And then she had bad ones. And the bad ones made him scared, so scared he had no choice but to get help. 

Penelope came over the Friday evening with Spencer after work, kitted out entirely with nail polishes and gems, the box set of Barbie movies, a hot chocolate mix she swore by, three tubs of ice cream, face masks, Teen vogue with a Never have I ever section ‘Begging to be answered’ and of course, her Pièce de résistance, her makeup kit and joke fluffy handcuffs for them to tie down Reid and give him a makeover. 

“Hello my handsome gentlemen,” She greeted Niko and Sergio who rushed to the door on instinct, knowing Spencer always gave them each a big handful of treats upon arriving home, “Auntie Penny is here for a super girly evening, no boys allowed,” 

“Am I not invited?” Spencer asked, faux hurt flashing on his face as he shut the door behind them, though his eyes were quick to scan around his living room for any sign of her. There wasn’t, not even a single pillow was out of place, and he knew it had been another day of skipped lunch and breakfast.

“You are, of course you are, I just didn’t want them to get jealous,” She whispered, her brown eyes taking in the too perfect apartment and the lack of the Prentiss girl, “Is she sleeping?”

“No,” He said without checking, because he knew she rarely slept nowadays unless she was in his bed with him, “I’ll go get her,” 

“Okay,” Some of the joy died out of her tone when she heard his voice soften sadly as she set her bags down on the kitchen counter, “I’ll get the hot chocolates ready!” Penelope tried to recover in that perky tone she used to cover up when something hurt her. 

He just hoped this had been the right decision, that he wasn’t pushing her too hard. 

Knocking softly on her door, he let himself in when he heard a small murmur on the other side, and as he suspected, she was curled into a small ball under one of his blankets, her hair wet, her pyjamas in the laundry basket. She had one of his shirts on and some boxers he had noticed had gone missing, but he would never hold it against her. 

She had showered while he was gone at least, and her breath was minty fresh as he crept over the woolly rug and kneeled one leg on the bedside. 

“Hey,” He started softly, sweeter than honey, his cadence somewhat hopeful as he leaned over her and stroked her hair that was still damp. “You got up! Did you eat anything?” 

She looked up at him with tired eyes, but she reached out with both her arms to embrace him gently, like she’d been waiting all day to have him near again. 

“I had a couple biscuits and some coffee,” Her voice was raspy, and it was the first he’d heard her speak in a few days. “I’ll try better tomorrow, I just was a bit tired today-”

“No, no, that’s great,” He rushed to comfort her, to stop the apology that was coming his way whenever she didn’t take care of herself the way he wanted her to, “Penny’s here to see you. She’s here for a girl’s night, if that’s okay?”

Bugsy attempted a smile, though she seemed hesitant, but he thought that was probably just the way her expression was these days, like everything hopeful had been sucked out of her. 

“I’ve missed Penny,” She said, and he knew she meant it. She nodded finally, and he leaned over her to give her a proper hug for putting on a brave face, feeling her nuzzle into his chest at the contact. She sniffed the air for a second, before whispering into his ear, “Is that chocolate?”

He chuckled, stroking down her back and pulling her up into a sit. He’d gotten used to her being pliant under his touch, and he only wished her being so receptive to his advances would be under other circumstances. 

The urge to grab her face and kiss every bit of hurt out of her was growing harder and harder to shove down with every day he saw her so soft and wounded. He wasn’t good at knowing what to say, but for her, he was trying to be. The only alternative was kissing her silly, until the pit she’d crawled into was warm, just warm all over, and she came back to him in one piece. 

“Yes, it’s chocolate. Now come on, before she starts the movie without us,” He breathed gently, helping her out of bed, pretending he didn’t hear the way her joints cracked with the first sign of movement in hours. “Wait a second, pants,” He reminded her, tossing her some sweatpants from the floor, which she shoved on blindly. He didn’t mind her walking around like that if it meant she were comfortable, but he didn’t want her to give Pen a scare. 

A ghost of a smile teased on her lips as he led her out the room with two hands on her shoulders, seeing the blonde woman light up like the fourth of July at the sound of the two of them approaching. 

“Bug!” Penelope called, mid way through distributing a hefty amount of whipped cream and marshmallows on top of three mugs. Spencer watched the second her eyes widened slightly as she took in the girl’s appearance, trying frantically to cover it with an even wider smile, rushing to hug her tightly. He saw the minute she realised she felt so different in her arms; lifeless, heavy, rooted to the spot, like any contact with someone other than the gentle Spencer-touches she was used to made her lock up. 

She looked sick, like she hadn’t known fresh air in weeks, or like she’d pulled three all nighters in a row, or like she would be able to watch a ten car pile up and not bat an eye. She looked dead. She felt dead in Penny’s arms. 

The thought of it made her squeeze her tighter, until she felt two arms cuddle her back firmly. 

“I see Spencer has been treating you well,” Pen said, because she was avoiding the subject of Emily, and the way Bugsy looked exhausted, and the way she saw how scared Spencer was when he’d come into ‘the bat cave’ that afternoon to ask for her help. 

Bugsy attempted another smile, nodding slightly as the blonde drew back from their hug, and she saw the worry she tried so desperately to hide as she took in her face. 

The girl’s skin was dull in a way they’d never seen her before, her expression tired, her bones creaky, like someone had reached down her gullet and plucked her soul right from out of her chest, snatched it there and then. Penelope saw why Spencer looked so worried. 

“He’s been great,” Bugsy replied simply, her eyes finding Spencer’s where he shadowed behind her, worried she would faint on the spot from all the movement. She’d not been eating anything other than what he encouraged down her throat, but he supposed a handful of biscuits were better than nothing. 

She felt the bottomless pit that used to be her heart rip open just that bit further, the way it had done slowly the past few days, eating away at her skin. She knew she could never ever repay Spencer for everything he was doing, knew the odd few times she’d managed to collect herself enough to be there for him when he cried could never amount to how he hovered over her every second he was home. 

But where she should have felt guilt, there was nothing, there was just nothing left of her. 

He seemed to notice the slip, the way he always did, and she never did tell him how perceptive he was as he stroked over the back of her hair, leading her with a warm hand on her upper back to the sofa where Pen had already laid out the movie selection, had already grabbed the hot chocolates that were quickly melting onto the coffee table, where Niko was waiting with an eager pink tongue to collect his share, where he settled her down and wrapped her in a blanket as if he was swaddling a baby, where he let her take the middle and him and Pen on either side as Fairytopia lit up his living room with hot pinks and rainbows and flowers and magic. 

And even though she had yet to crack a smile, a real one at least, she seemed content, not entirely uncomfortable with the evening as Penelope commandeered one of her hands to paint her nails a shiny blush colour  ‘to match the evening’. Spencer thought for a minute she might have just needed some girl time, something no matter how many cuddles and sweet words he whispered could never give her. Maybe that was all she’d needed. 

Maybe she would get through this without entirely crumbling.

It wasn’t until the next day when even showering was too big a feat for her, when she had only two mouthfuls of the blueberry pancakes he’d made her before she apologised with watery eyes that he realised how stupid he was for believing it. 

It wasn’t until she said she wanted to move back home by herself that he really started panicking. 

JJ took her out for a picnic in the park the following weekend. The guilt was eating her up alive about hiding Emily’s secret, and from what Pen had told her, she wasn’t doing good. She wasn’t even doing bad; she was barely hanging on by a thread. Hotch had said she would be a flight risk with her sister gone, had said they would need to keep an eye on her as much as they would the rest of the team, but for Emily’s safety she couldn’t tell her the truth. JJ could only stand back and watch as the girl they all knew crawled into something dark inside herself and barricaded the door closed. 

Spencer had taken the nice approach with her, never forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to or asking too directly, as had Penelope. They’d both tried letting her open up by herself, which had only resulted in the girl taking about five steps back and even starting to shut out Reid, something which they all saw tore him up even more than seeing her wasting away in his spare room. He spent more days at hers, crying harder than she had seen him even when he was struggling with opioids. Crying for Emily some of the time, but mostly crying for the fact he was entirely helpless now she had moved out, like the one thing that had held him upright until then had left in a guilty mess of ‘sorry’s and dead eyes.

So she instead took the approach of telling Bugsy she needed help. Because if there was one thing that had always been able to bend her will, it was someone else needing her. 

JJ thought about reminding Spencer that Bug would come back if he took the same route, if he just told her how badly he needed her instead of her feeling like she was simply a burden on his life. But she knew he wouldn’t hear it, he would only blame himself more. 

So she’d told Bug she was struggling with looking after Henry alone while Will was working away, that he’d been asking for her since she’d come to his second birthday party with the biggest stuffed whale toy he’d ever seen. It was a white lie, Will was home more days than she was, but Henry had been asking for ‘the bug lady’ every time he played with his teddy. And it worked like a charm. 

So they sat in the warm April breeze, Bugsy reading on her stomach as JJ carefully nudged a punnet of fat, red grapes her way, hoping she would take the hint and swallow a few. 

It wasn’t until Henry came diving over to them from where he was collecting snails by their shells that Bug even showed any sign of pulling herself out of the book. 

“Buggy!” The little boy called, his tongue struggling with the complexity of the ‘gsy’ sound, and she looked up at him with a tired smile on her face that JJ saw right through immediately. “Buggy, look,” 

She held out her hand, and he gently placed a common land snail in the palm of her hand, no bigger than a quarter, who happily slid over her fingertip with a squishy sensation. 

“Thankyou, Henry,” She replied, her eyes trailing over the shiny slime he left behind over her palm, his tiny antenna eyes googling up at her. “What should we call him?” 

“Sid’d’snail,” Henry replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, crouching next to her to watch him crawling over her chipped pink fingernails.

“Hi Sid,” She chimed, and JJ watched her face drop into a completely emotionless expression the second Henry’s back was turned to find Sid a friend. 

She felt it clawing at her throat to come out, Emily’s alive, Emily’s alive, come back to us please, please come back to us because Emily’s still alive. JJ was watching her rot in front of her very eyes, and better yet she had the power to stop it with those very few words. 

She could put an end to all of this, she knew how badly it had hurt when Ros died, her older sister, her whole world ripped from her the way Emily’s ‘death’ was doing to Bugsy. She would have given anything for someone to have turned to her and said ‘Jennifer, your sister is still alive. Jennifer, it was all a trick, a hoax, a ploy to keep you safe. Jennifer, Ros is still here, alive and breathing and living her best life in Paris of all places.’

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t betray Emily like that, and knowing, no matter how much of a relief it would come, would put Bugsy in more danger with Ian Doyle and whatever other enemies her sister had made at interpol than she could have ever realised. 

So instead, JJ just ran a gentle hand over her hair that warmed in the sun, and started braiding parts of it absent-mindedly, like they were two girls in a playground waiting for hometime.

JJ stayed quiet, and watched Bugsy get worse. 

Aaron came over to her apartment at 8am sharp. He’d found JJ and Penny in floods of tears in the women’s bathroom when they were due to start the presentation of the latest case and they were nowhere to be seen. Spencer had become detached, quieter with every day that he checked his phone and saw no reply, but had mentioned he’d seen them go into the bathroom together as he got his morning coffee, only for their boss to see the two of them clinging to one another with wet cheeks and before he could even ask, Penelope splurged that Bugsy hadn’t messaged in four days and was refusing to open the door, and that even Spencer asking so sweetly, something that was usually her kryptonite, had failed to draw her out. 

Aaron was convinced if this didn’t work he was kicking down the door himself, even if it meant filing paperwork for a necessary home visit. 

Aaron Hotchner, surprising to no one, was soft on the youngest Prentiss girl. He’d watched her grow for four years straight, had come to her of all people in his hour of desperate need, and felt every second of her grief as if it was his own because he, like JJ, knew he had the power to stop it all but couldn’t. 

He called her name through the door first, her real name, loud yet anxious, along with a firm knock. When he heard nothing back, he rapped on the wood louder, “Bugsy, I know you’re in there. The team are worried about you, they’re worried you’re hurt,” 

Nothing. 

And it wasn’t just the team that was worried, it was him too, if his heavy fists banging even harder were anything to go off of. 

“Bugsy, if you don’t answer I’m sending for the SWAT team and asking them to ram this door down,” He said, with not a trace of a lie in his tone. Because he wasn’t lying, not by a long shot. 

He heard footsteps then, and she appeared through a small crack in the doorway, not open enough for him to see the mess in her living room, but enough to see the way her entire face looked like a cadaver. 

He fought back against the guilt choking him from the inside out.  

“Stop yelling,” She murmured, almost bitterly, “You’re scaring the cats,” 

“You’re scaring us,” He countered back, in a tone that was a little too mean, but from what he heard, soft and gentle wasn’t working, “Please, just let us help you, stop pushing everyone away,”

“That’s a little pot calling the kettle black there, Hotch,” She said in an equally harsh tone, her face scrunching into a frown, and she nearly slammed the door on him right there and then. 

“Get your work out clothes on, we’re going for a run,” He ordered, and it was only then she notices his sport shorts and trainers. She scoffed in his face. He was quick to shove a foot in the door before she actually could swing it shut on him, ignoring the way he nearly yelped as it trapped between the wood, “I’m not asking,” 

“Fuck off,” She spat, and he bristled at her choice language, but he saw the way her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She was a roadkill on a sidewalk waiting to be put out of her misery; she didn’t want to be prodded and poked at and ordered around, she wanted out. 

She wanted to go quietly, without a fight. And it was for that reason, he put up more of a struggle. 

“You are coming outside with me, even if I have to drag you down the street myself because this is not how it ends for you.” Aaron barked back, forcing the door open with one of his large hands as if it was nothing.

“Of all people, I would have thought you would understand, Aaron,” It was like she had slapped him in the face, though he thinks maybe that would have hurt less, and it was only then he saw her eyes had welled up, and her bottom lip was quivering. It was a horrible sight, it twisted his guts like he’d been stabbed by Foyet all over again, but it was better than the nothingness that was there before. 

“Ofcourse, I understand,” His voice softened, his hands coming up to gently rest on her shoulder like she was breakable china beneath his palm, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to want to hide away and never face a world without Haley ever again? I can’t, even now, imagine the rest of my life with her gone,” His throat clogged with emotion he fought off, because he refused to have both of them crying in her living room when he was meant to be the one pulling her out of it, “But I do it because Jack needs me-”

“No body needs me,” She said emptily, ignoring the way Sergio wrapped his tail around her leg and meowed loudly as if to tell her otherwise. 

“Yes we do,” Hotch insisted, seriously, damn near ready to shake her on the spot to knock some sense into her, “We need you, and better yet we love you. You may have lost your sister, but you still have a family waiting for you, Bugsy,” 

And that was it, the single crack that broke the dam. Before he knew it she had launched herself into his arms in a fit of tears, clinging to him tighter than he thought she could for someone who looked so weak and perished. 

He just held her close, feeling his own stray tears drip down his nose as his shirt got wet through. In another life, maybe he and Haley would have had a daughter, and maybe she would have reminded him of Bugsy, maybe his heart would soften to putty just the same way it did with her. The same way it did for Jack. 

And eventually, when she dried her face, and quietened Sergio down, she went to put on her gym gear and one of Spencer's hoodies she’d stolen and felt too guilty to give back, and they went for a run.

If there was one thing Rossi knew better than his whiskeys, it was how to cook a good carbonara. And if there was one thing Bugsy needed more than anything at the moment it was a buttload of carbs and cheese. 

Aaron had been taking her running every morning since that day, and even she had to admit the fresh air and exercise did her good, made her feel stronger and less like the women they find in body bags at the beginning of a case, made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could get through the rest of this. 

It wasn’t going away overnight, not by any means, but she looked healthier, and her exhaustion meant she got more sleep too, but what remained was a hunger that she was filling with cereal and instant noodles that Rossi knew he had to put a stop to immediately. Instant noodles should have been outlawed with crack and underaged drinking, he would proudly tell her. 

So he invited her over for a cooking lesson, or as he would put it, she could watch him cook and eat as much as she wanted at the end, if she promised to never buy those awful microwave ramen ever again. And she’d agreed, because she felt her appetite coming back every day (and she knew where he kept the good white wine).

“Now as entertaining as this is watching you drain my stash of Sémillon, why don’t you chop up that pork and I’ll get started on the sauce.” He handed her a sharpened butcher’s knife, and the thin slices of seasoned ham, turning to use the stove for just a few moments, “You’re gonna add the cream in until it becomes thick, like cough mixture running off your spoon,” 

“Thick and creamy, you got it,” She chimed in, her fingers slicing the meat into strips, “Did you want this as diced or Julian?”

“Do you mean julienne?” 

“That’s what I just said,” He chuckled into the pot, his chest warming to hear some of that old bratty teenaged sass returning to her tone. He bet she would have run rings around him if she was his kid. 

“Diced, if you would,” David said, using a wooden spoon to stir in the thick cream little by little until the container ran empty. 

“Yes, Chef,” She hummed in response, flipping the chopping board around to begin slicing them the other side, “So, I’m guessing if I asked to try some of that Sauvignon I saw in the fridge, your response would be- oh motherfucker-”

David frowned, “Maybe not so harsh on the tongue but-” He turned around when he heard a hiss, and he quickly understood why she’d thrown the expletive out there. 

Her hand ran red with thick blood, dripping quickly down her arm, ruining her shirt. He didnt even care that his hand carved indian wood chopping board was permanently stained, or that the meat was contaminated, or that the blood trickled a little too quick over his floor, only that her eyes seemed suddenly far away as she did nothing to stop the cut gaping. It had caught her in a trance, one she was not even aware she had been sucked into until he grabbed a towel and headed for her. 

“Emily, no! Emily please, I need medical in here, we have an agent down! Emily, please, please don’t, please- Someone get medical, she’s bleeding-”

David’s hands grabbed a hold of her bloodied palm, wrapping it tightly in the cloth, so harshly it knocked her out of the daze she was in, dragged her out from the last time there was blood all over her hand, when it had been Emily’s blood, when she could do nothing but freeze like she had now. 

“I’m fine,” She said on a reflex, even though he hadn’t asked, he had just acted, pulling her towards the cupboard where he kept the first aid kit, “David, I’m totally fine, it’s just a little scratch,”

“You have to let me go,” Emily had gasped. "Let me go, Bug,"

“David, I’m fine, stop worrying,” She said again when she saw him fussing, hoping he couldn't see the way she’d started shaking, and if he had, she wondered if she could play it off as the adrenaline rushing to fix the wound. 

She knew she was on thin ice with the lot of them after her talk with Aaron. Like he said, they were her family, and family’s took care of one another. She couldn’t live with herself if she kept burdening them so much, kept them from grieving their partner just as much as she was; she loved them too. 

Bugsy was trying to get better, she really was. Sometimes it was just a little difficult, like now when she could still see Emily’s butchered body infront of her as if she were little more than that joint of pork she’d been julienning. 

“It’s okay to get hurt sometimes, kid. You don’t have to lie and pretend it doesn’t hurt if it does,” David said, sitting her back on the breakfast table, holding the bloodied cloth up where he was unravelling a spool of bandage and some rubbing alcohol. 

She shut up then, and she wondered if she was really that see through or if David was just that good at his job. They stayed silent, except for the moan of pain she let out when he doused her hand in the solution, pulling the skin closed tightly and wrapping it taut enough for her to feel her heartbeat in her fingertips. 

“It’s okay if you need a little help once in a while,” He continued, his movements gentle and careful, worried he’d spook her with the first real conversation they’d had in a long time. Rossi had always been closer to Emily than he had her, and maybe it was the fact he lost the few chances he had to be a father, or just the fact she reminded him so much of her older sister, but being with her felt like part of the wound in his chest was the one being treated. “Rather than being afraid to ask for help, remember this: When you ask someone to help you, you are actually doing them a tremendous favour by giving them an opportunity to feel needed.” 

“Is that a David Rossi original, or did you get that from one of your self help books?” She sniffed, hoping he didn’t see the way her expression had fallen, or her throat caught with an apology, or how she hid it with a small smile. 

“Richard Carlson.” He replied, pinning the end of the bandage in tight enough it wouldn’t snag. He sighed, looking at the girl who started guiltily at her fingers, reaching behind her for the corkscrew, “I’ll go get the Sauvignon, you order us a pizza. Just please god, no pineapple, that’s just as bad as instant noodles in my books. That’s like asking Da Vinci about bitcoin, it’s madness,” 

And that was the first time she properly laughed in weeks. 

While Derek was more than equipped to schmoozing the ladies when he wanted a date with them, he had not been ready for this when he’d asked Bugsy to go to the club with him.

She had been doing better, Rossi had said. She had seemed stronger, that was what Hotch had told him. Spencer said they’d even gone for coffee together. He left out the part where it felt awkward and almost like they were seeing an ex, though that of course would be impossible, because they were never dating. At least as far as he knew anyway. 

It had been going fine, they’d gotten two rounds of drinks, had been chatting and she’d even been giggling the more the alcohol hit her. She was looking more like she used to, and it almost all felt like a horrible dream hearing from the rest of the team the state she was in. 

He’d turned his back for a second, for two damn seconds, and she’d been whisked away by some frat boy, and come back to him with a crazy happy look in her eye that he didn’t notice until an hour later. 

“Where did you go, kid?” He’d asked, and she’d shrugged like it was nothing. 

“Needed the bathroom,” She said, and he hadn’t even noticed it was a lie until the light struck her eye for more than a couple seconds and he saw just how dilated her pupils were, like the blackness swallowed her iris whole, and the way she buzzed on the spot with more energy than she’d had in months. 

She was supposed to be getting better, and she was trying, really she was. 

But she couldn’t stop seeing the blood on her hand, couldn’t stop seeing Emily’s face now she could actually sleep again. 

Spencer was half way through his fourth re-read of War and Peace, in its original Russian translation, when he got the knock on the door. 

It was 10pm, he muttered to himself, who was bothering him at this time. 

But of course, as luck would have it, it was the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about, the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about for the past three years. 

“Spencerrrrrrr!” She chirped, and immediately alarm bells were ringing in his head, her fingers linked with Morgan’s as if he’d all but pulled her to his apartment from the cab. 

She wasn’t stumbling, and she smelled a little like alcohol, but not so much that her inhibitions would be completely destroyed, so he knew it wasn’t that. And Derek looked guilty, a serious kind of guilty like he’d suggested they take a drive on a motorbike with no helmet, or go chasing unsubs unarmed. 

It wasn’t until she flung her arms over his shoulders, and he’d pulled her inside, Morgan following behind with a nervous clear of his throat that he realised what it was. 

“Spencerrrr, I missed you! I missed you so much, Spencer!” And usually he’d love the way she said his name, but this time it was tainted, too false, too electrified. It barely even sounded like her, he hated the way his heart still pounded out of his chest at the fact she pressed herself so close in that little clubbing top of hers, those tight jeans. 

“What did she take?” He ignored her little hums of a song he couldn’t hear, the way she pushed herself even further into his body in a way he knew too well felt like a warm hug throughout her entire being. “Morgan!” 

Spencer had never snapped at him, not since his own days on whatever it was he was doing, and Morgan ran a hand over his face as she nuzzled her nose into his neck. 

“I don’t know, I swear. I turned my back for two seconds to get us another drink, and next thing I know this senior is hitting on her and she’s shoving gum in her mouth and coming back towards the bar- I don’t know what it was, I swear I thought it was gum, man,” Derek rushed, hating the look of desperation in Spencer’s eyes as he yanked her away from him with a small mewl of protest from her mouth. 

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, look at me,” He murmured, and she did, and he saw almost immediately the way her pupils were the size of saucers when she stared at him, crazed and intoxicated, “Do you remember what you took? I need to know so I can keep you safe,”

“You always keep me safe, so safe with Spencer,” She giggled to herself, trying to pull him back to her, but he wouldn’t budge, not until he got a real answer, “Come on, I’m going to be fine, it was just a little Molly, nothing to worry about. Kid even gave me a half for like ten dollars because he said I was reeeeeal pretty. Do you think I’m pretty Spence? I think you’re pretty, I think you’re super pretty,”

They felt themselves sigh in relief, because while still a drug, half of one pill shouldn’t really do much, especially if it was the cheap stuff going around frat houses that the DEA was having a field day with. 

Morgan looked at Spencer, where he let her shove her face against him once more, wrapping his arms around her back and feeling her sigh in relief that she was back there under his warm touch, and they shared the same thought. 

This never happened. 

Because if it did, it meant opening a can of worms Spencer had tried for years to shut tight. It meant acknowledging that the reason Morgan came to him and no one else was because he knew Spencer would know how to handle her when she was coming down in an hour or so. It meant acknowledging why Spencer would know that, and why they hadn’t acknowledged it the first time around. It meant their jobs would be on the line, and so was hers, and as much as she was struggling at the moment, they knew she just slipped up, and that this wasn’t who she was. They knew she could be better, that Spencer would force her to get better, because if the only other option was having her turn into who he used to be, then he was handing in his notice first thing Monday morning. 

That wasn’t an option in Spencer’s books, nor was it in Morgan’s. 

So Morgan left with a little pat on the back of her head, claiming she was a little troublemaker, though he hadn’t quite sounded as teasing as he’d intended and more bitter, and leaving Spencer with her to minimise the damage. 

Bugsy let him lead her to the spare room that once was hers, but she didn’t quite care enough to say anything other than, “I missed you so much,” As she pushed her face into his neck more. 

He sighed, sitting her down on the bed, knowing where she’d left some of her makeup wipes in his bathroom. 

“Stay right here, I’ll be right back,” But she whined again, making a grab for his hand, which he quickly avoided, feeling mean for it the moment he saw her face scrunch in hurt. He stroked her hair behind her ear, watching her melt under his touch, and it almost felt like nothing had changed, like she had never moved out, and like she hadn’t just burst back into his life after popping a bit of molly and turning his evening upside down, “I missed you so much, too, Bug,”

And he wasn’t lying. Not even a little bit. 

She looked up at him with those dazed pupils, as big as dimes as they batted up at him dreamily, and some awful part of him always wanted her to be looking at him like that, like everything he ever did in his life was perfect and he was a god among men. Like she was seeing her favourite movie for the first time on the big screen, when in reality he was just wiping her makeup off her face and handing her spare clothes to change into so she could sleep off the come down. 

It wasn’t until he tried to leave again to go get her some water that she put up a real fight, one that couldn’t be fought off with a gentle touch (he tried), and she was quick to grab his wrist, tug him closer to her. 

“Bug, I’m getting you-”

“Come lay down with me, let’s talk. I love talking to you, why haven’t we talked in so long?” She said like every barrier she ever put up had come tumbling down and her mouth was a free for all for her every thought. 

Spencer smiled despite himself, his honeycomb eyes soft as he shuffled to lay beside her, and they stared at one another, heads against the same pillow, and she looked soft than an angel laying on his bed waiting for a response. She looked happy for the first time in a long time, and he hated how much it suited her. 

“You moved out, remember, bug? You said you wanted to go home and I didn’t want to stop you,” He said gently, like he didn’t want to upset her. But she just giggled and shook her head like he’d told her a joke. 

“Oh, yeah. But I didn’t really want to go home. I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you forever,” Bugsy giggled to herself, wiggling her toes inside her socks and running a finger up his arm gently as she lay on her side, “I missed you so much,”

His brow furrowed, “What do you mean you didn’t want to go home?” But she wasn’t listening, she was tracing over his face with her fingertip, running over his nose gently, past his full lips that quivered under her touch, “Bug,” 

“Hm?” 

“What do you mean you didn’t want to go home? Why did you leave?” He asked again, and she looked back up at him with a shrug, shuffling closer to him, so close he could feel her breath fan over his cheeks. 

“I thought here with you was my home. I wanted it to be.” She said, her fingers finding their way into his nightshirt, “But I felt too guilty being so sad all the time, like I was getting my sad all over you and you couldn’t do anything about it because I was the loser girl with the dead sister you had to look after,” 

His eyes burned with emotion, and he willed himself not to cry, because suddenly it made sense why she had pulled away so fast. She looked at him like he’d hung the damn cosmos in the sky; had he not even paid attention to the letter she’d written Emily. She felt like she was dragging him down, the way she felt about everyone in her life, and decided to cut herself free before she took him with her. And look where that had landed her. 

He felt like a fool. 

“No, no,” Spencer whispered, pulling her into his arms, because he was scared that come morning she would take a million steps back and up and leave him all over again, “That’s not true, that could never happen, you hear me? I liked taking care of you, I wanted to take care of you.” 

“Really?” She asked hopefully, her face soft and dream-like, “I liked taking care of you too, when you would let me,” 

It was true he had tried to push his own feelings on the back burner, besides the few times the dam had cracked and he wound up with his head in her lap receiving the brunt of the affection that evening. He didn’t know why he ever doubted she would have wanted to do that; when he had his migraines she had done nothing but love on him until he felt full to the brim of her warmth. 

He felt himself chuckle, and she shuffled entirely into his arms then squashing out any last molecule of space left between them, and his hand slid over the back of her head, fingers rubbing softly into the nape of her neck which only made her moan loudly, entirely unaware of how sensitive her skin was from the molly. 

“That feels nice, Spencer,” She hummed, her thighs straddling his own as she squished herself against him more, “You feel so nice, I love you so much.” 

He would be lying if he  said the sounds she was making didn’t shoot straight to his dick, and hoped more than anything that she couldn’t feel how it pressed against his stomach angrily. His heart beat rattled loudly, and he swore she had to be able to hear it.

“I love you too,” Spencer sighed, wishing he could have said this to her sober. Wishing she wouldn’t shut him out so easily, wishing he’d pushed her walls a little harder. 

Then she did something he wasn’t expecting. It took all of two seconds for him to close his eyes and hum in content, where her hands were playing with the soft of his waist, and his fingertips stroked her jaw gently, but in a quick movement she planted her lips on his in a soft, sweet peck that he barely had time to register was happening before he pulled away in shock. 

She kissed him. She had kissed him. 

And he wanted her so badly, wanted her in every way it was possible to have someone, wanted to kiss her so hard his face went blue and his lips went numb and his throat burned with lack of oxygen. But he would never dare do anything when she was like this; vulnerable, intoxicated, unaware that the pill she’d taken had acted like a truth serum.

“We’re so silly,” Bugsy giggled, and for a moment she looked twenty two again, like the girl that had answered the door to him in college in nothing but her boxers and a shirt, with her metal music playing so loud he could hear it ringing in his ears minutes after she’d switched it off. She looked like his Bugsy again. 

Spencer chuckled with her incredulously, feeling his face on fire from her action, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest that had been immovable for months, because as hard as her come down would hit her, things seemed different now, like they actually had a kicking chance of getting through the grief together. 

But before he could say anything else, her eyes had fluttered shut under the warmth of his palm, and she had drifted off to sleep. 

He guessed he’d have to tell her tomorrow. 

–

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#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #matthew grey gubler x reader

[weebsinstash]

I know the show isn't out yet but Stayed Gone is stuck in my head and I'm chugging my yandere Vox juice so hard right now. I think he has the capacity to be absolutely insufferable

---for starters THE SPYING POTENTIAL WITH THIS MAN. You're telling me he can directly plug himself in to the city power grid and see through all televisions, potentially even phones and computers too? Could he put himself on your phone and start going through your texts? Could he even just put himself on your phone real quick while you're sleeping to check in on you? You couldn't even have privacy in your own home because of whatever screens are around he could potentially shoot himself to or watch you through. Imagine just being in your apartment completely alone and he's suddenly on your tv. Like what if you had just been sitting there topless or with your dick out or something or 👀 I mean. He could see so much, really...

---God honestly like. You know I keep mentioning the Instagram without ever attaching pics or anything because I'm on mobile and I'd have to use the hazbin Instagram archive blogs here on tumblr to go find them back like, you know Val would openly post the meanest shit, would literally post Vox's face being busted up because he woke Val up from a nap or i think it was he literally just brought him the wrong soda (which to be fair was taken from Velvet and was half empty), and then you go over to Vox's account and his pic was taping his pieces back on while being really frustrated and kinda lowkey looking like he would cry

Like Val's out here "women are stupid also men are stupid too" and talking about how he adopted a dog and killed it within like 48 hours and here's Vox celebrating his pet's birthday with cake and a party like. Why are these men together. Why. Why. Don't get me wrong I love to be the involuntary third in a toxic codependency but--

look all I'm saying is... do any of you get really really upset when you see someone being mistreated, especially more so a friend of yours?

READER JUST LOSING THEIR SHIT GETTING FERAL ANGRY SHOUTING AND SCREAMING AT VAL BECAUSE HE PULLS SOME SHIT and like that's IT for you because 1. Valentino might like actually backhand you one as well, do you think he wears rings so it hurts, 2. Vox sees you defending him and like, it's based on your own preferences really but if he wasn't already gaga this CEMENTS it and 3. especially if he watches you have to take a blow for trying to stick up for him. Like what if you cry. I have a low pain threshold, I'd be sniveling and crying at the least. Valentino storms off and Vox is helping peel you off the floor cause you curled up into a ball or some shit and he's sitting there thinking "wow they suck at this but they still did it for me 🥺"

---during his song with Alastor, it's a little confusing because they show an actual camera crew when he's turning the TVs on, but i think it's pretty clear that he can control whatever the screens show visually, thus his little zany sketches and being able to talk to himself and at one point, showed the visual of himself blocking the radio Alastor was projecting on right next door. I can just see him using this to kind of.... fuck with you, really! Or do whatever he wants? He's trying to suck up to you and he's surrounded by roses, or you're his co-host/guest host and he thinks your joke was funny and gives a little audience laughter as a treat

Or you know... you're running from him down the street, passing all these different screens and displays as they power on and show things like, him "jumping in front of you" while demanding you stop or, trying to show some kind of blackmail publicly, or just, begging you to just ACCEPT HIM and showing you all the fun things he could do with you, "cmon, I said I was sorry, stop freaking the fuck out! We can- we can do that thing you've always wanted to do, what about that?!" as he tries to project you two doing something fun, but most importantly, doing it TOGETHER. You're running from him terrified and he's showing you images of like you two smiling and happy or, it becomes scarier as he's more desperate

"Don't-don't make me do something fucked up!! I'm serious, STOP RUNNING" and he's like freaking out, showing shit of trying to hold you down, tying you up, and/or shoving you into a locked room

Sudden thoughts of "what if the more emotional and unstable he becomes, the less he can control his intrusive thoughts and shows his more impulsive darker desires". He's tweeking and the screen glitches and you briefly think you see yourself completely restrained, blindfolded, gagged--

---he's just like OBVIOUSLY so prideful but also immature and whiny ("who gives a shit about alastor?" Well you, mr hes just quietly minding his own business and I'LL start beef because i feel threatened and STILL LOSE, like awww my poor little pogchamp got publicly humiliated in an argument HE started out of nowhere, he's my little sad wet baby lmaoooo) and we already know his relationship with Val can become physically abusive, so, you pair him staying in that kind of relationship, being codependent, with this personality of his, and I can just see.... ACTUALLY FUCKING TRIGGERED LIKE LITERALLY CRYING UPSET VOX BECAUSE YOU REJECTED HIM like he's pissed he's hurt he's lonely he's heartbroken and HELL NO IS HE GONNA ACCEPT THIS

Vox would be over here proudly claiming on his TV show that NO HE REJECTED Y O U, not the other way around! He's not upset! He's totally fine! Meanwhile everyone watching can tell this man is manic and visibly hotboxing copium, "I didn't even really like you anyways!!.... no, I mean, shit, fuck, COMMERCIAL BREAK--" *cut to technical difficulties screen because the man is CRYINGGG*

-- Valentino and Reader bonding over teasing Vox and making him flustered and of course, obviously, the inverse. I still kinda like the idea of "they both think you're cute but like nothing exciting until one night they bump into you unplanned and you're all dressed up". Like Val is from the 70s or 80s so they go to a roller rink disco whatever kinda place because I'm sure the coke game there is INSANE and you're just like, swaying your hips spinning around to Let It Whip or September or something dressed in some shorts that make your ass look just right 🤌

You're sneaking back into the studio after a night out and they're both lounging somewhere and Val's like "uhhhh who is THIS coming in without saying hi to Daddy?" and you pull your sunglasses down like "SIR??? 😳" And now HE'S flustered because he didn't know that was you and Vox is feeling some new kinda way because he's used to seeing you in like, your work uniform or casual wear

Val who then makes your work uniform really slutty and you have to serve him and Vox wearing it 😩❤️

---I have this thought of like lmao imagine walking down the sidewalk with Angel and seeing Vox on TV and Angel is like "ya know he can see everything outta dese things when he's plugged in" and you're like "bullshit, he couldn't possibly process that many screens at once, it'd overload his brain, he wouldnt be able to concentrate" and you're like "here I'll prove it, hey Vox, check it out you fucking dweeb" and flash him your bare titties or you MOON HIM

scenario A would be that he INSTANTLY barks out laughing, "hey Val, that dumb slut who brings you drinks just flashed me!" And he just totally shows it on the air, maybe partially censored, maybe not at all, your phone is ringing IMMEDIATELY, of COURSE it's Val, and Vox is broadcasting your mortified embarrassed expression, "our big story tonight: drunk bimbo fucks around and finds out! More updates after this word from our sponsor!" and the man will noooootttttttt stop bullying the fuck out of you afterwards, because he's got a crush on you and you're like someone weaker than him his insecure ass can punch down on

Scenario B is that he instantly turns pink and about 5 seconds later he blue screens and the entire city experiences a blackout and when he comes back on the air he's like stammering and, glancing at, it FEELS like he keeps glancing at you, but, is he really?

------

I dunno... like I'm sure Valentino is gonna wind up being unstable in his own way but I guess there's a certain, ALLURE to Vox being a little bratty and whiny while also having these very VERY handy, actually quite scary abilities and resources 👀 like boy show me what that screen do 😫💦

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #vox x reader #yandere vox x reader #sinprompts #yandere stuff

[astroboots]

EVERY YOU EVERY ME: Issue #2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Your streak of bad luck continues as you find that the universe is not done putting you in harm's way. Luckily, you have grouchy Spider-man to save you.

Word count: 3,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, near death experiences, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara being a rude bastard and a total softie.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

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According to an article that ran in the New York Times: one out of every 40 New Yorkers will have a run in with a Superhero in the time they live here.

That might not sound like much, but considering that nearly 8.5 million people live in this city, it adds up to a lot of people. In fact, most in your friends circle have their own anecdotal story to tell.

I ran into Tony Stark at the Brandy Library and he asked me for my phone number. Bit of a sleaze but he bought our whole table a round of drinks.

Captain America landed on my Fiat on Manhattan Bridge. He dented the roof, but he was very polite about it.

Daredevil was hanging out at the fire escape ladder above the Meatball shop. Gave me tips on what to order.

It's nothing short of a miracle that having lived in this city for as many years as you have that this is the first time you've had a Supes encounter.

It'll be a great story to tell at parties. You fell out of the Chrysler building and were rescued mid-air. It blows all the other stories out of the water. Though, you'll probably leave out the part where he wished he'd left you to die.

You stare blindly at your computer screen. There are endless rows of cells on your excel sheet no matter how far you scroll. Uninterrupted numbers and reference codes for insurance claims that are waiting for your attention. But the numbers and letters all blend into an indecipherable sludge soup. All you can focus on is: 'I should've let you fall.'

Heat prickles your cheek, as you replay his words in your head.

What the hell.

That was entirely unnecessary.

You didn't deserve that.

Over the course of the last 24 hours, you've played the scene on an endless loop in your head, until the memory is worn and scratched like a used up VHS tape.

Did you do something wrong? You must've. Who has ever heard of a Superhero treating a civilian in this manner? You’re just a hapless innocent bystander who fell out of a building due to a supervillain battle they started. To blame it on you and then call it a mistake. Isn't that something a supervillain would do?

Gritting your teeth, you feel yourself seething of the memory of the windows next to you breaking and shattering out of nowhere as a bird-person villain with mechanical wings tumbled past you. Next thing you knew you were tumbling out the window. 

And then he saved you.

Did he mean to save someone else? Is that why he was so annoyed? But, you didn't see any other people falling from the building on your way down.

You replay the memory. Again.

The looming silhouette of his towering frame over yours as he sneered down at you.

He looked at you like he knew you. Like you had offended him with your mere existence. But you don't understand how. You've never met him before. Never met anyone who looked even remotely like him. You would've remembered a man with red eyes, they're not exactly common. Plus, you don't think you've ever met someone quite so tall. Your neck hurt with the angle you had to crane just to look at his face.

What could you possibly have done in your lifetime to piss off a Superhero you've never met before?

For that matter what Superhero is he anyway? You think back at the dark navy suit clinging onto every inch of skin, embellished by that bright angry red in the emblem of a spider.

Spider-man... 

Except Spider-man is known to be a swell guy with a great sense of humor. Not a rude asshole.

Aren't his colors inverted too? You pull up the browser on your screen and google "spiderman outfit". There's over 800 million hits. In all of them Spiderman's suit is primarily red with blue embellishment.

Whoever the guy is, you don't think he's your friendly neighborhood Spiderman that every New Yorker knows and loves.

With a hapless sigh, you click aimlessly on your screen, trying to look busy at work for the next twenty minutes until you can go on your lunch break. You go through the motions of your soul sucking tasks. Tagging each insurance claim into one of the following categories: approved/rejected/further missing information required.

Peering over your cubicle wall to the wall of windows, you spy the section that has been zoned off since yesterday. The broken window you were knocked out of has already been replaced, but there's still shattered glass and debris nearby.

Your stomach drops, the phantom sensation of the ground beneath you giving way. For a brief second you swear you can feel the weightlessness of soaring through the skies without anything catching your fall.

You stand up from your desk, solid ground meeting the soles of your feet to remind you where you are. 

The office.

There's a monotone drone of workers all around you grumbling and sighing just as unhappily. The quiet tip-tapping of keyboards of the working masses.

Is this the life you managed to escape death for?

Is this it?

It's kind of sad isn't it? You nearly died and lived to tell the tale, only to return to a life so unremarkable your brain didn't deign it necessary to provide you with any highlights (cause there are none).

The most exciting thing that has happened to you the whole of this year was being insulted by a grumpy superhero. The most you've wanted to live was during that span of ten seconds when you were falling out of a building to your death.

You glance at your clock, still 15 minutes before noon. You log out of your desktop anyway.

You barely make it across the street from your office. The light is green as you cross Lexington Avenue when the screeching noise of tires tears down the street and rips through your eardrums.

A yellow taxi hurtles towards you at full speed. Through the car window separating you, the cab driver is staring up at you with wide-eyed horror. In that fraction of a second before the hard metal is going to collide and shatter every bone in your body, you only have one thought: Oh god, this is going to hurt.

Life doesn't flash before your eyes. All you see is the familiar blur of shiny blue and red.

Go figure that's the only moment extraordinary enough for your brain to think it's worth replaying before you die.

There's a blunt and forceful shove to the side of your ribs. Softer than you would've imagined a two tonne vehicle slamming into you would be. It doesn't hurt. It reminds you of that time you played football with your cousin and he body slammed you to the lawn. You've heard about this phenomena, the brain will try to protect itself by going unconscious if the pain is too extreme.

But there's no bright light, when you open your eyes all you see is the familiar shiny blue fabric.

A firm weight wraps around your shoulders, and you recognize this, the feeling of being held as you're pulled into their solid chest. There's not enough time for you to look up, you're slammed onto the ground, the solid warmth wrapped around you, absorbing the fall.

The pressure wrapped around you shifts then lifts away entirely. When you open your eyes for a second time, there’s no one there holding you. 

There's no one else there with you. Just the standstill traffic of cars and pedestrians gawking at you.

A concerned woman runs over to you, bending down to help you up on your feet. "Are you okay? That car came out of nowhere."

Your legs feel unsteady, wobbling as you put weight on it to stand up. 

“I’m fine, I think,” you respond, and look down on yourself. There are no scrapes, just a bit of dust on your work-attire from traffic.

"You're so lucky, Spiderman was there to save you."

You blink up at the woman in dazed confusion and it takes your brain a few seconds to process what she's telling you.

Spider-man...

In your mind's eye the flashes of blue and a vivid red invades your vision. It wasn't just your life flashing you by. Not just a figment of your imagination.

He was here. He saved you. (Probably not) Spider-man saved you (again).

A wave of gratitude washes over you. You take back every unflattering thought you had about the man not five minutes ago. Rude? Would a rude man save you, not once but twice in one day? No, of course not, you probably just misunderstood him, or misheard. After all, if he truly regretted saving you, he wouldn't have done it a second time... right?

--

When you get back at your desk, there's a post-it tacked to your computer screen, with an angry scrawl of a handwriting.

'Look BOTH ways before crossing!!!!!'

You stare at the note, and the way the word "both" is capitalized and aggressively underlined.

Rude.

The universe is out to kill you. You're sure of it.

They say that death comes in threes after all. So no one can blame you for being a little bit on the edge after you've gone two for two within the time span of 24 hours.

You stay away from windows in tall buildings. You look both ways, twice, before crossing the street. You try to go straight home from work the minute you clock out from work, turning down any and all initiations with friends to go out after out of precaution. It's just not worth the risk.

And for a while it seems to work. For a while, there are no more incidents. A week goes by and your nerves start to settle and you are lulled into a temporary sense of security before it all goes to shits.

A ceramic flower pot on a windowsill tumbling off the sixth floor of a brown house by Chelsea that would have dropped on your head and split your skull if someone hadn't bumped into you from behind that you weren’t able to catch sight of.

A piece of scaffolding that comes loose and falls from a construction site in West Village as you happened to walk past, and would have been crushed under if you weren’t tackled away at the last second by someone who fled the scene before you could thank them.

A hot dog cart runs amok, hurtling downhill towards you between 184th and 190th street in Manhattan when the cart suddenly out of nowhere, against the very laws of physics like it’s being pulled by an invisible force and changes direction mere inches in front of you, hurtling through the air and crashing into the windows of a bodega instead.

Each and every incident leaves you with an ever growing sense of paranoia that this cannot be explained away by being merely pure bad luck. There are cosmic forces at force that clearly want you dead.

On Thursday, there are leftover cupcakes from a client conference. Mary, the secretary in your team, boxes up four of them for you and tells you to take them with you, because, "you've had a rough week, toots."

It’s not a flattering assessment of you, but when you see your own reflection in the mirrors of the office toilets, you can’t help but think it’s an accurate one. You look rough. Eyes bloodshot with deep furrowed lines underneath. Your face is gaunter than you remember seeing it too. 

You take the cupcakes. 

It's the first good thing that has happened to you all week, and as small of a comfort it is, you take it as a win.

You eye the box from your desk the rest of the day, squirreled away in your tiny cubicle. You are determined not to eat one while at work. Because you'll be damned if Matt from accounting catches a whiff of your cupcakes and asks you to share one with him. You want to properly savor them in the comfort of your home at the end of the day.

But as often is the case when you have something to look forward to, the seconds, minutes and hours tick away with a reluctant drag as if time itself knew you wanted the day to end faster and decided it'd be fun to flip yet another cosmic middle finger in your direction. 

When it's finally time to end work, you get off your chair so forcefully it knocks it to the floor. You are practically jogging through the lanes of cubicles to get to the elevator, and nearly smack the security guard on the other side with how hard you swing open the front door. 

It's pouring outside, which, of course it is. You take off your jacket and cover your cupcake box with it, because you're not going to let the universe ruin the one good thing you've got going for you this week, as you run towards the station.

The moment you step into the damp and sticky station any remaining sense of joy in you evaporates. There's a hoard of tourists swarming the subway paying no attention to their surroundings. Tourists wearing their caps and backpacks and wheelies knocking over a 'Caution Wet Floor ' sign as they gather in a throng in front of the subway map, blocking the way as you hear the train approach.

It's not that big of a deal. A train comes every two to five minutes, and if you miss this one, you'll just get on the next one. It's not the end of the world. Logically, you know that. Emotionally and spiritually however, the world around you has just taken a little bit too much from you for you to concede to this minor little loss.

You are going to make this goddamned train.

Taking a determined step forward, you shoulder and push your way through the throng of people to fight your way to the front of the track.

You push a little too hard. Your feet skid across the slippery tiles, leg buckling from your own weight and you lose control, tumbling forward.

In your peripheral view there's a blinding light approaching. There's wind beating the sides of your face, and you can hear the screeching metal of the train right next to you. Your foot drops into empty space and you are falling into the tracks. 

Oh god why...

Why?

You just want to live.

The cupcake box flies out of your grip, splattered somewhere across the front pane of the train. There's a hard tug on your shirt as an invisible force you cannot see yanks you back, hard.

Your head whips back and for a fraction of a second, there are crimson eyes staring back down at you, you blink and then it's gone.

You land on your ass with a bruising force to your tailbone with a bone-breaking thud. The subway whizzes by with a demonic roar past you, inches from where you're sprawled on your ass on the dirty tiles of the subway station.

In front of your feet, there's a long streak of white frosting trailing down from your feet to the tracks of what looks like a crime scene.

Maybe it's the stress. Maybe you've just had a bad night of sleep (after many successive bad nights with little to no sleep). But something in you breaks at the sight of the frosting smeared across the dirty subway tiles.

Your eyes sting with exhaustion. Chest drawing in tight with a crumbling ache that makes you want to curl up on the cold tiles. You're just so tired.

There are people around you staring at you. No one in their right mind who lives in New York would sit on the floor of the subway.

But your legs are heavy and numb. You can’t move from the spot. Everything tastes like bile. You try to swallow and force it back down but it's no use, your throat has swollen shut. Your cheeks run wet and you press your palms to your eyes to make it stop but that only seems to make it worse. Snot runs down your nose and drips down your wrist. You're crying and you don't know how to stop.

Is this the rest of your life?

In the morning, you wake in your bed with a sore ache that gnaws at your bones. Swollen eyes and a soreness that scratches the lining of your throat.

Your back hurts, and as you try to turn to your side to get out of bed a sharp pain surges up along your entire spine.

Fuck.

It's too bright. The sunlight is offensive. It stings your eyes and makes you sick to your stomach. You only have vague memories of how you made it back home. Feet shuffling through the subway in a daze like the walking dead.

God is that what you are? A dead man woman walking?

You crane your head and catch a glimpse of your clock on the bedside table. 9.13 You're late for work. But that's mind as well, you don't have it in you to make it in.

What's the point anyhow? You hate that place.

Besides, if the subway on the way over doesn't finish off the job this time around, then eventually a taxi will. Failing that the universe is probably going to send over a ninja assassin rat from the subway to come after your life.

There's a soft breeze coming in from the open window that grazes the back of your neck and you turn your head towards it. All you can see from your window is the brick wall of the neighboring building. Even though your apartment is on the sixth floor, you can't see a speck of the New York skyline.

Still the breeze is nice, though you don't remember opening the window last night. You never usually do. It is silly and paranoid. No human robber could possibly climb up your six storey building just to climb into your window and rob you. If they could, they’d find that there isn’t much to rob in your apartment, the most valuable thing you own is a complete Le Creuset Cookware set. 

Your eyes glaze over your work tote bag on the floor next to the window, drifting upwards and spot the pink box sat on the window sill and you stop. 

You didn’t put that there. 

You sit upright in your bed, setting your feet to the floor and force yourself to leave your bed as you pad over to the open window.

It's a fancy looking thing. Baby pink, and chiffon ribbon on its side. Wrapping your pinkie around it, you tug it loose. You perch your thumb against the corner of the lid when you stop.

It's not another one of the universe's assassination attempts is it? You're not going to open it to find a bomb ticking down are you?

You hesitate for another moment, taking a deep calming breath before you gather the courage to finally lift the lid. Inside, there is a gorgeous display of cupcakes adorned with white and pink frosting, topped with strawberries, chocolate shavings and on two of them there's mini macarons.

Way fancier than the day old Costco cupcakes you'd lost yesterday.

Picking up one, you take a bite. The frosting is light and zesty. The refreshing lemon melts on the tip of your tongue as the buttery cream floods your mouth with the rich flavor. It's the best thing you've ever tasted.

Lifting the box, you check the sides of it to see if there's any note left behind, but there's none.

Gladis Bakery. It's from a bakery you've never heard of before. When you google the name the place is outside of New Jersey, 58 minutes away and you would need to take a subway then switch to a tram.

There's no note attached, but you don't need one. The list of candidates who would be physically able to climb up six floors up the bricks of your apartment building to leave cupcakes on your window isn’t a long one. 

Something warm blooms in your chest at the thought, and your fingers linger on the top of the box, savoring the taste of lemon and sugar still lingering on your tongue.

You put your head out the window, not sure what you're expecting to find but find yourself disappointed all the same when there's nothing there. No people in the quiet street below, and nothing unusual above.

"Thank you for uhm... saving me,” you say into the silence with nothing but the traffic noise below to answer you. 

 “And the cupcakes," you add. 

There's no reply. 

~ To be continued.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #oscar isaac #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

[lvlyghost]

The Things I Never Said: Part 3

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Summary: You're required for one last mission.

Word Count: 2.5k

Tw: aaaaaangst, hurt with a lot of comfort. injuries, mentions of blood, kissing and slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit. price has to make a hard choice:(poor grammar, bad english ofc💅🏻 foreshadowing to my price fic 'salvation' if you squint.

A/N: i'm not gonna lie, when i wrote the first part of this fic i was bored and never in a million years did it cross my mind y'all would like it this much. sorry if this isn't as good, this is the final part of it, although i plan to write little drabbles every now and then. this was such a nice ride 🩷✨ thx for the support; remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome 🤍🐸

Masterlist✨ Part 2

Desk rotation wasn't fun, but it seemed to be the only suitable work for you considering your pregnancy, besides, it would allow Simon to keep an eye on you. At least he's sure you'd be safer in the military base than alone in your home.

Your only companion as you sit in the tech room is nothing more than a computer with two screens and Jimmy, the other tech guy who sits in the far corner across from you.

True to his word, Price had saved you and Simon a horrible martial court plus being discharged. Technically you're no longer a part of the 141 task force which is already upsetting to all of your team; instead working strictly under Price's command and assisting the different branches of the military. Meaning you're no longer subdued to Lieutenant Riley, therefore you're not his subordinate, at least not directly.

You respond to Price and only Price.

Nearing the end of your first trimester your swollen belly has started to show, the same you try to dissimulate by wearing bigger shirts than you would usually wear, but enough for Simon to notice when he'd place a big calloused hand on your stomach.

'It's... tiny.' He had stated, to which you laughed softly.

'Of course it is, your hand is massive!'

You shake your head, with a small smile on your lips as you remember that scene.

"Everything good?" You ask your companion.

"Mhm. You know you're the best for creating the security system right? Not a single breach or flaw. Couldn't ask for a better partner."

"Is that a chai?" Completely ignoring what he just said you point the white disposable cup next to him. He looks between you and his drink.

"Yeah? Didn't know you liked it, here... have it. I can get another." He assures you when you hesitate.

You thank him with glowing eyes and excitement. Cravings... you're embarrassed of the amount of food you've asked from Simon in the middle of the night. Sushi, pizza and even peaches just for the sake of the baby.

He's being the gentlest man on earth. Caring and supportive. Your phone buzzes as you're about to start to work. The screen lights up with a message from your Captain. Huffing you stand up, letting Jimmy know you'll be back in a few minutes, or so you thought.

You're not prepared for the hell unfolding inside John's office.

You're able to hear male voices from the other side of the hallway. You don't know why but your heart begins to race, knocking twice once you've reached the brown wooden door.

"Come in!" Price shouts from inside.

You open the door, greeted by John's hardened eyes and Simon's back as he hunches over the Captain's desk. Confused and much to your dismay there's a gigantic folder between the two men, your eyes fall on Ghost's trembling frame.

He is enraged.

Body buzzing in anger as the soft click of the door interrupts the silence that's fallen suddenly inside.

"You wanted to see me Sir?"

Price slowly stands, Simon doing the same, turning his head ever so slightly to watch you from over his shoulder.

"I need to talk to you, sweetheart." Price begins.

A deep breath exits Simon's chest.

"What is it?" You take a step closer to them, until you're standing next to him, crossing his arms over his chest he remains silent.

"We need you. For a mission." He states. "It's important, sergeant. I don't think anyone else would be able to pull this off." Your eyes dart back to your boyfriend. Staring daggers at his superior. "I'd never ask for this if I had to."

"Bloody hell Price, she's not fucking going!" He is seething.

The gut-wrenching feeling sets in your belly, tossing and turning with anxiety. Simon isn't taking this well and you don't want to see him like this, it breaks your heart.

"How important, Sir?" You ask.

Ghost snaps his head towards you. Jaw tightening, and calls your name ever so softly.

"Don't." He barks. "Don't fucking play the hero, kid." He warns you.

"I'm not trying to play the hero, Simon." You talk back. "I'm trying to figure out how to get this done. I might have someone else that could go in my place." Price sighs. "Can I do it from the base? Maybe I don't have to leave the compound."

"Reports say the files are heavily encrypted. It's the Russians, sergeant. We're not dealing with amateurs." He turns to Ghost emphasizing the last word. "You more than anyone should understand, Lieutenant."

"Not when you're bloody sending her to a suicide mission!"

"These are not my orders Simon! General Shepherd wants her! I tried to talk him out of it. I can't do much more, son." You swallow when Simon starts pacing around like a rabid dog, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is there any way I can do it? She can guide me through it the whole time..." he's back, leaning closer to his Captain. "I know I...-"

"Unless you know how to code and decrypt systems to perfection it can't be, Ghost. I'm sorry."

"It would only slow down the mission, get you caught. And in danger..." you reasoned, mumbling and staring down to your feet. There's no one else. Not even Jimmy. The one you had in mind.

Simon's mouth snapped shut.

His eyes are helpless when he connects them with yours. The realization of what's about to happen sinking in his core, he tried. He really did.

One long stride and he's embracing you, so tightly you think you'll suffocate; you hug him back, head resting right over where his heart beats frantically against his ribcage.

"I'm coming with her." He snarls. "Not Kyle, not Johnny. And certainly not someone from fucking KorTac." He turns to glare at Price with a death stare. "It'll be me, no one else."

-

"John's devastated." You tell him. Your back pressing against his hard chest. The water in the bathtub is warm, and smells like lavender and sandalwood. After the catastrophic meeting a few hours ago, Simon was too outraged to remain at the base so he drove both of you back to the safety of his apartment. You rest your head on his left shoulder, enjoying the delicate touch of his hands on your lower belly. He hums, almost absentmindedly. He didn't want to think about Price, or the mission for all that matters. All he can think of is you. He sighs, closing his eyes he presses a kiss on your hair.

"Bloody fucking bald cunt." He spits. You snort at his comment. Shepherd was a complicated man, and hardly one you could negotiate with once he had his mind set on something or someone.

"When do we have to...-"

"Tomorrow." Your lips are pressed into a thin line. "I'll be there no matter what, right next to you, love." He reassures you. You were never one to hesitate during missions but now... releasing a shaky breath you turn your head to look at Simon.

"I'm scared..." Simon's body goes rigid. The hand on your stomach halting. "It's not even for me, you know?" Swallowing your free hand reaches down to find his own, lacing your fingers with him. A muscle becoming prominent in his jaw as he grits his teeth.

"Nothing will happen to you. Bloody count on it, yeah? First shite I deem dangerous I'm pulling us out of there, understand?" You nod.

"Promise me you won't get hurt." There's a moment of silence that becomes unbearable the longer it extends. "Simon..." his eyes are fixated on yours, shining with what you can only describe as worship. The faintest of smiles spreads across his features.

"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart. Not for one second." Breathing deeply you pull him down for a kiss. It's slow and tender; makes you forget about all the difficulties you face. Biting down his lip, Simon takes it as a sign to further deepen the kiss. Tongues finding each other in a fight for dominance. "Don't wanna think about what tomorrow holds. I have you here right now. That's all I need."

-

Your mind goes back to the moments you and Simon shared last night. It was so simple, so real.

That's how things were supposed to be.

Easy.

Not heart wrenching, not stifling down a cry as you watch him get shot. A bullet that was aimed at you .Breaking in had been easy. Way too easy for your liking. But you thought that for once maybe a mission wouldn't be a pain in the ass. The hardest part was getting inside their systems; John was right. It was hellish even for you. It took more time than what you had anticipated. No one would've been able to pull it off.

"Whoever is behind this, they're good." You acknowledged as you type down the codes that will eventually get you in.

"Bloody brilliant you are, kid." Simon watches from the other side of the room, eyes scanning the hallway every now and then looking for any possible hostiles. You send him a coy smile.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll get no work done."

"How am I supposed to look at you then?" He asks

You don't answer because the screen in front of you suddenly shifts from 'Access denied' to 'Access granted'.

"Got you." You whisper. Simon stands straight. You plug your USB and start downloading all the information as well as setting a virus so their system gets permanently damaged.

"What is it?" He gruffly asks when the files finished downloading on your own device. Clearing your throat you try to ignore the horrible pictures you just took a glimpse of.

"Just... insanity." Is all you can say. A loud metallic sound echoes in the room, you never get to see the person behind you. Ghost's eyes widen and he barks an order your ears don't register, static fills your eardrums. The gunfire starts but lasts mere seconds. Crimson blood splutters from Simon's body.

You stand up, knocking down the chair as you jump out and run where Simon's injured body kneels. You fall down grabbing him by the face. The pain you're feeling deep inside has never been worse.

"I'm fine." He hisses. "Just my fucking shoulder."

As if that would make you feel better.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Your lips quiver. You run back to retrieve the small USB drive.

The body of a man lays down, a pool of blood forms around him. He was hiding behind you the entire time. Had Simon been distracted the outcome could've been atrocious. Yo don't dwell on it.

"Come on, baby." You urge him, crouching down to help Simon as much as you can to get him standing. His weight is just too much for you, you think, when he finally raised to his feet.

"S'okay love. Don't... don't overwork yourself. I'm too heavy, don't wanna get you hurt because of me."

Tears form in the corner of you eyes at such selfless act.

"You're the one who got hurt because of me, Simon." You stammer.

"So what? Would fucking die for you." You shake your head but keep close to him. Pressing down the wound on his shoulder as you head towards the exit. "Evac point is ten minutes away. We should be fine." The gun that rests on your thigh feels heavier than it should.

You're lucky, you guess as you walk away from the god forsaken building.

Lucky that you have him by your side, even when his blood stains your fingers. He's there, you're there and you're making it out alive. Wounded or not, Simon would never let anything happen to you, that's how deep his love for you was.

He wasn't like his dad at all.

He was real, caring, something not much people knew. Not in their lifetime.

The amount of blood he was losing was inhumane. An injured shoulder couldn't cause someone to lose this much blood, you ponder. Your black shirt feels sticky and damp, you take a quick glance and hold back a sob. Another gunshot wound, one he didn't care enough to tell you about and you didn't notice, too scared to even think.

Far in the distance between two big threes a black truck awaits. Johnny's face dropping when he noticed Ghost's decaying form. He rushes in your direction, taking him off of you, carrying his weight. He gives you a concerned look.

"Johnny..." you choke up. "We have to save him, please."

-

It's been the worst 48 hours of your life since you landed. He got two surgeries done in order to remove the fragments from inside his body. You were exhausted, barely ate or slept. It almost felt criminal, selfish, when your eyes started to close and finally gave in.

Then the nightmares came.

Ones where he didn't make it back and instead you had to leave him behind and never got to meet his child.

A warm feeling spreads from your skin. A faint touch. Are you still dreaming? His face erupts in your subconscious mind and you cry again. He's fine.

When you slowly open up your eyes you're met with blue eyes and a raspy voice.

"Don't neglect yourself for me, kid." You're speechless, the searing pain in your heart eases. He knows you so well. Knows you haven't left his side. "Takes more than a bullet to keep me away from you." When you don't move nor speak he continues, clearing his throat. "Come here, sweet thing."

There's a new wave of tears that fall mercilessly down your cheeks. You carefully climb up next to Simon's good side.

"Don't you ever scare me like that!" you weep. Sobbing uncontrollably Simon hushes you. Murmuring words of comfort in your ear. The anesthesia is still making him feel dizzy but that doesn't stop him from kissing every part of your face. Your hair, your forehead, your cheek and finally your lips.

"Let's leave this place for a while. Go on vacation while we still can..." you beg.

Simon's lips twitch. He's smiling down at you.

"What do you have in mind doll?"

You breathe deeply.

"Greece. I always wanted to go to Greece."

There's moments in life when you doubt you'll get a happy ending. Being with Simon at first was pure coincidence, something that had evolved from deep admiration and respect, which then turned into something more. It turned out to sleepless nights at the common room with the task force. Longing stares during briefings. Looking after each other during missions.

The training sessions together. Lending his massive leather jacket because you were always reluctant to bring your own. That one night he couldn't resist it anymore and went to your dorm. How you felt under his touch, oh he was touch starved when it came to you. And when he learned he was going to be a father, that moment would be ingrained into his memory until his very last day.

"Greece it is."

It's a promise.

TAGS:

@nijiru @illyanam1011

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod mw22 #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #call of duty ghost simon riley #john price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #cod simon riley #simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #simon riley x you

[harufluff]

my seahorse ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊

💬 : fluff, unestablished relationship au, afab!reader x bff!anton, ⚠ best friends to lovers trope, not proofread, 0.7k

“could you come over…” your voice was shaky through the phone speaker. anton had known you were at home because you had texted him hours before complaining about your neighbors.

“a-are you ok? did something happen?” his heart started beating faster. despite just being a friend, a best friend as you would put it, anton always worried about you.

weather you are up to no good, or just getting good news. he was here to support you no matter what. maybe a little too much for just a friend.

“i’m fine. just please be fast.” and just like that you had hung up, leaving anton scared and surprised with the various possibilities bouncing around his head.

anton made his way to your house as fast as he could. when he finally got to the front door of the house he had been to so many times before, he knocked. his heart finally began to calm as he heard the soft footsteps of your feet coming down the stairs.

the door opened to your face. no makeup, inches shorter than where his face is, and a blanket wrapped around your head. “what’s wrong?”

anton’s soft, calming voice makes it to your ears. before he can even blink again, the door swings open and reveals your blanket covered figure coming towards him for a hug.

“y/n, seriously what’s wrong? are you hurt?” your best friends hands now coming up to take your hands in his, inspecting for any injuries.

“come look.” you use his hands current position to your advantage and take one of them, dragging him up the stairs to your bedroom, a room he has been to more times than he can count.

you sit down on your bed, blanket still covering your lap, while anton stands in the doorway, still astounded, but mostly confused of your intentions.

“come sit. i wanna show you something.” he came to sit down on the bed next to you, anxious of what was to come.

anton’s nerves continued to be more prominent. “are you sure you’re ok?” he asks one more time before you dragged your laptop to your legs.

your curser traveled to the corner of the youtube screen to press the play button, then a pair of sea horses swim into the view of the camera.

a deep, manly voice comes out of your computer explaining how sea horses mate for life and stay together forever. your head turns in your best friends direction, tears on the brim of falling down your face.

“w-wait, what’s wrong? why are you crying” anton asks you, words coming quickly out of his mouth. “they mate forever, ant. imagine staying with someone you love for the rest of your life!!”

a slight smile rises to his face, finally realizing your sudden sadness was not necessarily sadness. “you still haven’t answered my question. why are you crying over some sea horses, y/n.”

anton held your face with one of his hands and whipped the stray tear now running down your face. “it’s just so romantic, y’know?”

you let the weight of your body tumble down as your back hit the soft covers of your bed. “i wanna find someone like that one day.” your eyes rest in the same place of your ceiling.

anton thinks about what to answer with for what feels like a couple seconds too long. “i have already.” you sit up straight right away, eyes wide open and staring into your best friends.

“who….?”

his cute smile made its way up to his lips as his face began to grow pink. “it’s you. you’re my seahorse…” anton tried his best to keep the eye contact with your still wide eyes.

“if you don’t feel the same way just tell me and i’ll forget i ever said it.” his gaze then dropped down to his hands that were resting in his lap.

“anton…you’re my seahorse too…” all of a sudden you felt anton’s body weight on top of yours and the room was filled with giggles from the both of you.

his face pops up from the crook of your shoulder, a lasting smile still on his face along with yours. “my seahorse”

a.n - sorry i havent posted in like so long lol. please enjoy! <3

©️harufluff 2024

#k-labels #kflixnet #anton #anton lee #riize #riize anton #riize anton lee #lee chanyoung #riize lee changyoung #riize chanyoung #riize fic #riize fluff #riize fanfic #anton fluff #anton fic #anton fanfic #anton x reader #riize x reader #riize anton x reader #riize imagines #anton riize

[lemonlover1110]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 6] Same Old

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Talks of Abortion, Toji being a major asshole, Talks of Cheating

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

You feel awful during the week. Nothing to do with pregnancy symptoms but the fact that your husband– Rather, ex-husband is just the biggest scum that you’ve ever come across. You knew that he didn’t want kids, and you should’ve expected his response to be an abortion. You just didn’t expect him to react happily at the thought that he finally trapped you, meaning that he doesn’t care about the fact that you’re having a baby, he just wants you unable to go anywhere.

You’ve grown to resent him even more. And you’re growing to resent yourself because you can’t stop loving him. You wish you could rip your heart out and get rid of your feelings, alas, it isn’t that simple. You’ll have to learn to move on slowly, and balance the love and resentment that you hold of him… The father of your child.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe you should get an abortion so you’re not tied to him for the rest of your life. But you also want to be a mother, even if it means that you’re stuck with Toji one way or another.

Your personal issues leave you absentminded at work. You barely hear the phone ringing, and when you do, it’s almost too late. You luckily pick it up. That’s your only job, answering phones, it’d be a shame if you couldn’t do that correctly.

“I’m here to talk to–” You hear a very familiar voice, and you feel a sigh leave your lips as you look up at him. You finish the conversation on the phone, and when you hang up, you clear your throat to ask,

“What are you doing here, Toji?” You make it clear that you’re not exactly pleased with his presence, and he rolls his eyes at your reaction. He isn’t here for you either way. He opens his mouth to speak but you do it before him, “Will you please leave me alone? I think we need a lot of time away from each other before–”

“Toji!” You turn your head to the woman that calls out his name. A manager in your workplace. She walks over to Toji, and you watch as they share a hug, one that lasts too much for your liking. They’ve known each other for some time, that’s clear, but Toji hasn’t come around in the time that you’ve been working here. She looks at you and orders, “Tell my assistant to cancel all my meetings.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You respond, watching as she walks back to her office and he follows behind. You do as she says, dialing the extension and telling the assistant that his boss is occupied. You feel your blood boil, even though you don’t care about Toji’s romances. If he has something going on with that woman, it obviously started while you were together. 

Your chest feels heavy, thinking about the one time you chased him around thinking that he was cheating, but he was just working. Maybe he didn’t have to go elsewhere because his job had all he needed. Maybe you trusted him too much. You shouldn’t care, you’re already separated anyway. But you have to know.

You obviously can’t barge into the office and demand answers, matter of fact, you still don’t really want to talk to Toji. You try to not pay any attention to him, and to do that you decide to look at baby clothes. You shouldn’t, you don’t have the money for it right now, there’s other things you should figure out. It doesn’t hurt to look though.

Someone knocks on the reception desk, making you look up and away from the computer screen that displays the cutest onesie. It’s the assistant, Nanami. You smile at him, tilting your head to the side before asking, “How may I help you?”

“Why did she cancel?” He asks, and you shrug.

“She’s with Toji. Probably fuc–” You keep the thought to yourself. You don’t want to be inappropriate at work. Nanami’s brows raise.

“You think there’s something going on there? She’s just really flirty and he returns it because he’s trying to sell something to her.” He tells you, and you sigh. You want that to be the situation because you can’t stand the thought of hating Toji but knowing that he’s been cheating might be your final straw. “That’s what some people say though. I have no idea. Others say that they’re together.”

“It’s none of our business in the end, I guess.” You say and he hums in response.

“Are you two on a first name basis or what? Never heard someone refer to him as Toji, not even my boss.” Kento says, and you’re taken back by the question. You didn’t really expect that question especially since the man in front of you isn’t all that talkative; he’s bored and has nothing to do but he still has to stick around.

“We have a long history together.” You answer, not bothering to give more details. He isn’t going to pry. He nods his head in response, and since he has nothing more to ask or say, he leaves reception and goes back to his desk.

For the rest of the work day, you find yourself looking at baby clothes, growing excited over the fact that you’re growing life inside of you. Even if it’s Toji’s child.

The biggest sigh leaves your lips when you’re finally home after a long day at work. You luckily have the night off from your second job, and now you have the time to lounge around and be lazy. You were planning on leaving your second job once you got the chance to move out but since you’re pregnant, you have to save up your money so you can take some time off when your baby comes– Additionally, all the costs that come with a baby. You’re not counting on Toji.

A groan leaves your lips as you stretch. You get up from your couch and walk to the bathroom to turn on the faucet and fill the tub with water. You need a nice long bath to unwind, and hopefully it’ll help you to get your mind off Toji and the fact that he may have been cheating on you while you were married. You want to believe Nanami, but he’s oblivious to pretty much everything that’s going on around him.

You get undressed and soak yourself in the tub when it’s full. You allow yourself to relax in the warm water, shutting your eyes, trying your best to not fall asleep in the water. You have to open your eyes when you catch yourself drifting off. You grab a bottle of your bath bubbles and pour some into the water so you can entertain yourself like that.

You begin to play with the water to make bubbles, and when your bath is filled with them, you hear a knock on the front door. It’s rather aggressive, so it’s hard not to notice. You get out of the water, irritated as you grab a towel and dry yourself off. You don’t have enough time to run to your room to change into clothes so you grab your bathrobe and wrap it around yourself.

When you approach the door, the person knocks again, even harsher than before. You open the door, and you aren’t surprised to find your ex-husband standing before you with a bag that contains what you assume is food. You cross your arms, tilting your head to the side and ask, “What are you doing here?”

“Thought we’d have some dinner together after the awkward events from earlier.” He says, trying to disregard the fact that you’re just wearing a bathrobe with probably nothing underneath. The thought alone drives him wild. 

“Why would I want to have dinner with you?” You ask him, letting it be known that you’re not exactly pleased with his presence. You don’t understand why you have to make it painfully obvious that you don’t want to be near him, he should know at this point. He’s just ignoring what you want for his own selfish reasons. You shouldn’t be surprised though, you married him knowing how selfish he is; you didn’t expect to divorce him though, and you didn’t expect his selfishness to affect you while you’re separating.

“I could tell you were upset when I left… So why not?” He responds and you don’t budge. He tries to weakly smile, and it comes off awful. “And you’re pregnant so I got you your favorite.”

“Fine.” You end up agreeing. You’re hungry and the thought of eating your favorite food brings joy to your heart– Except you’re not even sure if Toji bought the right meal, he doesn’t know you that well. You don’t think he does. But you’re hungry anyway. “You can set the table while I put on some clothes.”

“I don’t know–” He begins but you cut him off before he can finish his sentence.

“You wanted to have dinner with me, you can figure it out yourself. It’s not that hard.” You give him attitude before you walk to your room, leaving him to figure it out. Going through all the drawers isn’t that hard, he’s still a bit annoyed that he has to do so. He can’t really argue with you though since the last thing you want is for him to be at your apartment.  You walk back, asking, “Did you find everything?”

“Yeah.” He answers, walking over to the table to organize the plates and utensils. You take a seat while he handles that. You watch as he does a task that he never did while you were married. You never really minded though, you had an agreement: you take care of the house while he pays for every bill. 

When he takes a seat, you waste no time in serving yourself food. A small smile comes to your lips when you realize that he, in fact, did get your favorite food. You wipe it off your face before he can see it. You don’t want to give him that satisfaction of seeing you smile. 

You quietly begin to eat when the food is served. Toji doesn’t like the silence, even if it’s what he wanted a couple of months ago. He clears his throat before asking, “So… Why were you upset?”

“I wasn’t upset.” You answer with your mouth full of food. You don’t want him to think that you’re upset, even though you so clearly are.

“When I left, I tried to talk to you but you couldn’t even look at me.” He points out, and you continue eating in silence.

“You should leave. Megumi already spends a lot of time alone.” You try to change the topic and kick him out of the apartment but that won’t work so easily on him. He takes a deep breath, standing up from the chair and walking to your kitchen to grab himself a glass of water.

“Why were you upset?” He asks, and you decide that suppressing your feelings isn’t really going to solve much. You sigh.

“Were you cheating on me while we were married?” You finally ask the question that’s been bugging your mind all day. Toji chokes on the water that he drinks, punching his chest as he coughs it out. You wait for his response patiently, watching him as you eat the food that’s in front of you.

“Why would you even suggest that? Do you not trust me?” He sounds deeply offended by the question, making another sigh leave your lips. You should’ve known that would be his response.

“I don’t. You did it once, you might do it again.” You tell him, and his brows furrow.

“That happened months into our relationship and you decided to stick around. I never did it again, I swear to you on my life.” He argues, which doesn’t really help you. You can’t bring yourself to trust him, at least not now.

“Then why was that lady so… Touchy. A little too close.” You remind him, and a smirk comes to Toji’s lips. He tilts his head to the side before asking,

“Are you jealous?” Which makes you roll your eyes. You don’t care to answer that, of course you’re jealous but you won’t admit it to him.

“Answer.” You order, and he puts the glass down. He walks back to the table and takes a seat. It feels like forever as you wait for him to answer. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest as you wait for a response.

“Flirting comes with the job sometimes. Flatter her, secure the company’s business.” He answers, and your eyes widen.

“I–” You open and close your mouth a couple of times, trying to figure out what you say. You’re hurt by his actions, and it leads you to say, “That’s cheating, Toji.”

“No it isn’t. I never wanted anything to do with her.” He points out, which doesn’t really help you. You feel nauseous and you have to stop eating before you throw it all back up. You have to take a deep breath before speaking again,

“Imagine if I started flirting with some random guy just to secure a good tip–” You begin but he cuts you off.

“If it’s your job, I wouldn’t care. You’re making more money for us.” He says, making you take another deep breath. You can’t believe this is the conversation you’re having with him.

“Right… You wouldn’t care. You wouldn’t even care if I was flirting just for attention.” You respond, and he crosses his arms. He clicks his tongue.

“What are you trying to say?” He asks, which makes a sigh escape your lips. You have to look away from him because you feel the tears well up in your eyes.

“That you’ve never really cared about me like that Toji. You wanted someone to fill the role of your wife, and that’s what I did essentially. You never cared for me as your lover though, you couldn’t care less about what I did as long as I continued to play wife.” You tell him, and he rolls his eyes. He’s tired of listening to this. 

“That’s not true.” He responds. Of course. He’s not going to admit his faults, he never will.

“And if I told you I slept with someone once while we were together… Would you feel jealous? What if I told you I was seeing someone else now?” You bring up, and his brows raise. He finds himself speechless, completely unsure of how to respond to that. He ends up chuckling before saying,

“I wouldn’t feel jealous because I know neither of those things are true.” He knows you better than you think. But that’s not the reaction you want to see. “Let’s drop this. I was never cheating on you, now that that’s settled–”

“Maybe it isn’t cheating but it certainly hurts my feelings.” You respond, not wanting to drop the subject yet. “You couldn’t even bother giving me that type of attention, but you could do it to other women.”

“Why are you so overdramatic?” He scoffs. 

“You’re right, Toji. I’m overdramatic. Yet you’re the one here that refuses to leave because for some stupid reason you think we can get back together.” You slightly raise your voice at him, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Why do I have to constantly show you that I love you? Do you not believe me?” He proceeds to ask which nearly makes your eye twitch. You can’t believe how long you stuck with this man.

“No! I made it clear that I don’t trust you.” You waste no time in answering. “Plus I’ve never been sure of your love in the first place.”

“I do love you.” He responds. You’re tired of hearing the same lie over and over again. You don’t see the point, he can just find another woman to play as his wife. 

“This feels like the same conversation. We have this conversation every single time we talk.” You say, focusing back on eating. “Let’s not. Let’s change the topic or finish eating in silence.”

“Right.” Toji ends up sighing. “I’m covering half of your rent and your bills. I want you to leave your second job.”

“Huh?” You’re not sure if your ears are deceiving you. But he repeats it and you’re right. “What about your gambling addiction? Can you handle that?”

“Don’t bring that up. I don’t have an addiction either way.” Toji responds. But you’re not leaving your second job. He isn’t reliable. Even if you want to leave your second job to have nights off and be able to relax. “I guess… It’d be ideal if you moved back in but you’re not doing that.”

“Why are you doing this? Do you suddenly care about the pregnancy?” You ask. You don’t want him to be doing this simply because he wants to win you back, but knowing him he might be doing this just for that. 

“I guess I have no other option. It’s my baby too.” He ends up saying, and you have no idea if you’re supposed to feel good about it. You have mixed emotions over it. “I can’t be a shitty father.”

#toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fanfic #toji fic

[doobea]

SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE - NAGI SEISHIRO

synopsis: Your boyfriend doesn't realize how important little things are to you until it's a bit too late.

contents: established relationship, slight hurt and comfort??, slight jealousy, sfw, nagi struggling trying to process emotional needs of others - what else is new, also nagi centric, college au, mentions of fraternity formals, gn!reader, idk i hc'd nagi to be a compsci major but up to debate ig word count: 1.6K a/n: title is based off of tyler the creators song hehe its my fav from his album and omg thank u nagi for breaking me out of this writer's block, inspired by @celestair for the idea!!

Nagi hadn't really expected you to get so excited about attending his chapter formal. Hell, he didn't even know that they were going to have one in the first place if it weren't for Reo bringing it up in a passing conversation last week in your dorm room.

"We should go!" You said, and he remembers you hopping out of your seat, abandoning your assignment, and dashing immediately towards your closet for an outfit.

"Should we?" Nagi questioned, a frown creeping its way to his lips.

Reo slumped his arm over Nagi's shoulder, tugging the male slightly into his chest. "C'mon, why are you even paying the dues if you don't attend our events?" Reo sounded annoyed.

Nagi shrugged and went back to his phone, resuming the level of whatever popular gacha game that was released for that month. "Because you said it would look good on my resume or something." He answered flatly.

Of course, Nagi knew that he couldn't say no to this. As much as he would love to, once you and Reo were both set on something it's almost impossible to try and coax you two out of it. Nagi is pretty sure that this formal is going to be the bane of his college existence and that his computer science classes are, arguably, now the easiest part.

"It's too loud in here." Nagi wanted to go home the moment he stepped out of his best friend's rented limo. He feels too stiff with the suit he's currently wearing, the cologne is starting to overwhelm his senses, and he really didn't like the fact there's already a fuckton of people inside the venue.

Everything feels too congested.

The three of you take a seat at a table shared by Nagi's other 'brothers' and their dates. He really doesn't remember anyone's faces aside from maybe one or two from his classes, so he's confused when a handful of them start greeting him with fist bumps. All of which he awkwardly returns. Something about long-living brotherhood? Nagi didn't quite catch what they said.

"Do you guys want anything to drink?" Reo shouts over the music as he starts to get up.

"A cranberry vodka would be nice." You gently tug on Nagi's sleeve, attempting to break his unyielding attention from his phone. Reo had set a rule before they left, and it's a mobile game and social media app ban at the table. So, naturally, Nagi is stuck analyzing the weather app. "Do you want anything, Sei?"

Looks like tomorrow there's going to be a slight chance of rain which is pretty awesome, he thinks.

"Hm? Oh, whatever you're having, I guess."

Nagi misses the way your smile fades. "Um, make that two cranberry vodkas?"

"Ah," Reo stumbles around with his words for a bit before nodding away. "Sure, be back in a minute."

"Sei," Your voice is closer this time, lips almost pressed up to his ears to minimize the booming music in the background. "Wanna go on the dance floor later?"

Nagi pauses his thumb, hovering over a random European map, and he's already internally shrinking from the idea. "Do I have to?"

You laugh, it sounds a little forced. "Only if you're up for it."

He shrugs and eyes the surrounding area. The dance floor looks semi-packed at the moment and everyone looks equally semi-buzzed. Sitting at the table sounds better in his head. "I think I'll stay here but you can go on ahead."

"Oh," You exhale through your nose and laugh again. "Okay, if that's what you want!"

"Mhm," He hums back and settles his head down at the table, feeling almost exhausted despite not having to do much today.

Nagi doesn't notice that he's alone at the table until the DJ starts signaling everyone in the venue to pay attention to a couple on the dance floor. He only looks up when he hears Reo's name getting called out and starts to straighten his back when he sees you dancing hand in hand with him. The sight leaves Nagi gnawing the insides of his cheeks.

"Hey," Nagi turns to see two of his fraternity brothers looking at him with a bit of concern and he's not sure why that's making him feel uneasy.

"You good there?" Isagi asks, careful to sound casual, but Nagi picks up on it.

"What?" Nagi frowns, connecting the dots together. "It's fine. I don't really care about them doing stuff together anyway." It's a vague statement. Maybe purposefully vague.

"Eh? You sure about that, Nagi?" Bachira presses.

Nagi frowns again, tips his head down, and is in deep thought. "I'm actually not sure." He finally admits. Nagi is currently fighting off a weird feeling in his stomach. Maybe it's just the drink he had earlier.

He's always been fine with Reo keeping you company whenever he isn't in the mood. Whether it be eating with you in the dining halls, attending movies together, going to the mall, and so forth. Dancing isn't off the list either. He's seen the two of you dance before but isn't sure why this is setting him off. Maybe it's the thought of you being happier without him in your life that is eating him away.

"Shit, he's walking over."

"Waah, let's go!"

It doesn't occur to Nagi that Reo's in front of him until his best friend clears his throat. Reo puts a hand on Nagi's shoulder and gives him one of those looks. A look that insinuates something big that he can't place a finger on but knows it's full of negative nuance.

"Don't be an ass right now," is all that Reo says.

"An ass?" Nagi echoes.

He allows Reo to tug him out of his seat and Nagi almost feels lethargic from how long he's been sitting down. A final push towards the edge of the dance floor is when he catches your sullen figure.

"I'm surprised that you haven't caught on," Reo continues after a while. Nagi recognizes the tone. He doesn't say anything more, and Nagi appreciates it that much, at least.

It's funny how much his mood is able to shift. First from feeling annoyed, to borderline sleepy, to determined. Nagi thinks he's finally learning how to read his relationship with you.

It's only when he's inches apart that he realizes that you're on the verge of tears. Nagi instinctively reaches out his hands and softly cups your cheeks, rubbing his thumbs across in his attempt to calm you.

What's wrong, he wants to ask but he already knows the answer to that. He feels bad for complaining all week, but he feels even worse for essentially abandoning your needs for god knows how long.

Nagi chews on his lips as a new idea starts to brew. It's an uncharacteristic idea. An idea that pushes him to become a new version of himself—the person he wants to be but struggling to understand.

"Hey," Nagi calls out your name slowly. "Can I dance with you?" You open your mouth—probably to say it's okay and you'd rather not make him uncomfortable—but Nagi continues before you can get a word in, before your tears start falling. "I'm sorry, I should've paid closer attention." He says in a whisper.

You fall silent and Nagi is wondering if he's said something he shouldn't have. He quietly peers over at Reo who's aggressively nodding his head, throwing a thumbs up across the room. You shift awkwardly in place before giving Nagi a faint smile.

"I would like that," You sound a little hesitant, but surprisingly welcoming to the suggestion. "I mean, if you're okay with it?"

"Don't worry about what I think, you've done plenty for me already." And he means it.

Nagi migrates his hands from your face to your waist as the music shifts to something slower, more tender, and sweet. It's obvious to everyone in the room that you two are a little nervous and it's almost laughable. He's been dating you just shy of a year and has never once offered to dance with you. It comes as no shock to him that you're growing shy under his touch and movements, despite being together countless times. This feels different to Nagi, and he's positive you're thinking the same thing.

It takes a while, maybe because you're both getting used to this foreign feeling, but you eventually wrap your arms around his neck and hug closer to his body. Somehow, that short circuits Nagi's brain and he freezes in place.

"Sei, is everything alright?"

There's a wave of guilt that washes over his eyes. This act is weighing Nagi down, more than he wants to admit, and he has to pull away. Eyes glued to the ground because if he looks at you he'll start to feel nervous, confused, and small.

"Sorry, I'm... trying my best."

"Sei, it's okay." It's your turn to rub your hands across his cheeks and he doesn't realize that he's flushed in the face until you comment. "You're warm."

"Sorry," He doesn't know why he's apologizing again. For being flustered? Not knowing how to dance? Or afraid of disappointing you again? He thinks it's a mixture of all three.

"Hey, as long as you're trying then I'm proud of you." You reply with ease.

You're always kind to him. Most times, you don't push him more than what he's willing to give and maybe that's why he's comfortable around you. Even if he does know you're silently judging his actions but it's okay, because it's you. But he also knows that he's been taking advantage of this trait and it sucks having to find this out tonight.

Nagi nods. You're right, he doesn't need to worry about anything else but you in this moment.

#bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #doobea writing #blue lock imagines #blue lock headcanons #nagi seishiro #nagi seishrio x reader #wow nagi debut on my blog #i hope hes not too ooc here #dating guys like nagi requires uuh a lot of communication ig #i mean look what he did to reo #blue lock scenarios #blue lock fluff

[sunflower-lilac42]

✧ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 || quinn hughes ♔

album & song: fearless (taylor's version) ; you belong with me (taylor's version)

summary: y/n always thought she was the one for quinn, and he slowly starts to realize it too

pairings: quinn hughes x neighbor!friend!reader, temporary quinn hughes x fem!oc

warnings: small mentions to throwing up, sad quinn, asshole girlfriend, quinn thinking he's not good enough, mentions of an injury (reader's)

notes: it's been a while since i posted not related to flowers and it's been a while since i posted an actual fic fic in general so here it is. i think my cole fic might be out next but no promises and yeah. hope you guys enjoy it and be sure to leave your requests in the inbox or just message me in general. story notes -> i totally forgot that in the music video they are actually neighbors, so i guess that's a bonus. they met in 2021, so they have been friends for 3-4 years. quinn started dating chloe in 2022 (probably near the end of the year, so it’s been a year-ish) look for the music video easter eggs because i took a lot of inspiration from it since it's literally one of my favorites! also she does stuff for the social team because it's important for the plot (well for one part). the time doesn't really matter in this story but if you're confused just let me know. if there is a time it is supposed to happen, i'm pretty sure i mentioned it. add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!

publish date: 01/21/24

fearless masterlist | nhl x ts masterlist | nhl masterlist | main masterlist

‘you're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset she's going off about something that you said 'cause she doesn't get your humor like I do’

She had just sat down in the living room when she heard voices, more like a voice, outside her door. It really wasn’t her business to know who it was but they were standing outside of her door, so she took it as her duty to know what was going on outside her apartment. 

She walked to the door, abandoning her dinner and computer on the couch. She placed her head right up against the door, her ear straining to hear anything being said. It didn’t take long for her to recognize the voice of her friend, Quinn. He sounded lighthearted when he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

Y/n assumed it had been at least a minute or two since Quinn had spoken last, her ear starting to hurt from being pressed against the door for that long. When the man outside her apartment finally spoke again, his tone was much different than before, “I was just making a joke, Chloe.”

There was more silence before she could hear him again, “No you always blow things so out of proportion. It was just a fucking joke you don’t need to get so upset about it. I was listening to you talk and I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

Once again silence, and y/n could only assume that Quinn was being yelled at from the other end of the line. She rolled her eyes, she never really liked Chloe, though she only met her once maybe twice. She was always mad about something, and usually, it was because of something stupid. She usually made underlying digs about y/n and her job, stating that she only took it because of the guys and how she wanted to meet someone.

She heard Quinn speak a few more times, mostly mumbling profanities and more thoughts that he wouldn’t even dare to say to her face. It was silent for quite some time after that, not even movement from the man outside as he just stood in front of his door staring at his phone dejectedly. 

Y/n stood up and straightened herself out before opening the door slightly and peeking her head out. Quinn looked in her direction as he heard the door click open and gave her a small smile.

“You okay?”

Quinn only smiled before responding, “Tired of drama.”

She frowned, “Sorry.”

He just shrugged, fiddling with his keys in his pocket. Y/n turned away, looking back at the pot of Mac N Cheese that sat on her stove, ready to offer Quinn to come inside, but when she stuck her head back out into the hallway she noticed that Quinn had already made his way inside his apartment. 

She sighed before stepping fully back into her entranceway, shutting the door behind her. All she could think about were the three words that she had been wishing to say since she met Quinn.

✧༺✎༻∞

‘i'm in my room, it's a typical tuesday night ‘i'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like ‘and she'll never know your story like I do’

It was a game day for the Cancuks meaning that not only was Quinn at Rogers Arena but y/n as well. She was wearing her fleeced-line leggings with a long-sleeve t-shirt, her Canucks cardigan thrown over it. She hadn’t had a chance to wash her hair so she just threw a beanie on top and decided it was good enough.

She had been in her office since the boys had left for the locker room, editing and sending pictures to the social team. She had her earbuds in, not wanting to disturb anyone if they were still at the arena working as well. She was listening to the playlist Quinn had made for her when she found out he played for the Canucks.

When y/n moved in next door to Quinn, he had already been playing with the team for two whole seasons. Quinn had been walking out of the apartment building when he noticed the girl struggling to carry up all of her boxes from the UHaul to her new apartment. He offered to help her, especially since it was a rare day where he didn’t have a game nor did he have practice.

He ended up offering her to have dinner at his place when he realized they were next door neighbors. That night she ended up explaining to him how she got her BA in art and design and got a minor in sports management. He was surprised when she told him she was starting a new job for his team.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

“Yeah, I got my ba in art and design and then I decided to get a minor in sports management just because I was hoping that would boost my chances of getting a job for a sports team, which ended up happening.”

Quinn raised his eyebrows as he cut up his food, “Oh really? Who are you working for now?”

She sallowed the piece of food in her mouth before wiping her mouth with her napkin, “I’m working for the Vancouver Cancuks. I was pretty surprised when they said they wanted me, I mean they are an NHL Team.”

Quinn choked on the water he had been drinking when she said the Canucks, “You’re wokring for the Canucks?”

She looked at him oddly as he coughed up the water, his eyes watering. She didn’t understand why he was acting like this, “Yeah? Is there a problem that I’m not aware of?”

“Um, I play for the Canucks.”

Her eyes widened, “No fucking way.”

“Yeah, Quinn Hughes, number 43.”

“Oh, that’s a weird coincedience, I guess. I mean how often does stuff like this happen?”

Quinn chuckled, “Not very.”

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

Later that night Quinn had taken her phone and made a playlist for her of the songs that always made him feel better before a game or just in the morning when he was on his way to practice. Ever since then, she had listened to that playlist when she needed a pick-me-up, wanting something familiar to her. 

She understood why Quinn liked this music before a game, it was upbeat and productive music for her. She was able to go into work mode when the song played, cleaning her office, editing photos and adding graphics to them when the social team asked for some extra help.

When she was done she sighed when she saw it was 11. She knew she shouldn’t be driving this late at night but she had no other choice. She walked out into the hallway and walked outside the arena. It was cold in Vancouver, snow was falling on the ground. She wrapped herself tightly in her winter jacket as she made her way to her car but paused when she saw Quinn heading to his own.

He turned when he heard footsteps coming from behind him and waved when he saw who it was, “Hey, y/n/n!”

“Hi Quinny. Didn’t expect you to be staying here this late.” 

The boy shrugged, “Had a lot to talk about tonight, I guess.”

She nodded, “Yeah. Sorry about the loss.”

Quinn just sighed and nodded, “Thanks. Do you want a ride home? I know you hate driving home in the snow, especially when it’s this late- wait what were you doing here this late?”

She blushed but it went unnoticed due to the fact that her cheeks were already turning a slight shade of pink from the cold, “I was editing photos and doing some stuff for the social team. They like it when I help, which is weird because I didn’t even really go to school for that. Also why do you know that I don’t like driving home in the snow?”

Now it was Quinn’s turn to blush, “I just remembered I guess.”

The two got in his car, Quinn reassuring her that they could go back in the morning to get her car. The first ten minutes of the ride back their aparments was silent, the quiet sports channel of the radio playing in the background. When they brought up the Canucks lost from that night, she could tell Quinn got tense since his knuckles turned white as they gripped the steering wheel. 

“You okay?”

Quinn relaxed a little at her voice but his body was still tense a little, “Yeah, just… I feel horrible right now.”

“Did Chloe ever text you? You know, to say something about the loss?”

That was a worse question. Quinn was annoyed at the question and also upset. She hadn’t texted him, in fact the two hadn’t talked in five days with Chloe being across the country doing a string of photo shoots. He shook his head, “Nah, she’s probably sleeping, it’s like what? Three in the morning there?”

She just nodded her head and moved her head to look out of the window again. She watched as they past buildings, still mesmerized by the snow and how it fell on the ground and on the buildings. She looked back over at the boy to now see a sad look on his face, “I know how you feel, Quinn. And just know, it’s not your fault.”

“But it is though, right? I’m the captain, I’m supposed to make them better, I’m supposed to lead them to victory.”

“You can’t make them play better, Quinny. That’s what practice is for. You’re there to motivate them, inspire them, help them. You can’t make them do anything. Trust me, I know.”

Quinn looked at her in confusion, “You do?”

“Yeah, I was the captain of the girls hockey team in college.”

“You played hockey?” Quinn asked, a grin making its way onto his face.

She shrugged, “Yeah. I was okay, I guess.”

“Okay? If you were the captain you had to be more than okay.”

She nodded, “I was captain for only half of a season and then I got injured. Really set me back, especially during senior year. I was supposed to be out for almost the rest of the season. I could’ve played if we made the playoffs but we didn’t. And that was the extent of my hockey career.”

Quinn could see how sad she looked talking about this so he was quick to change the subject. The two were now talking about random nonsense, saying whatever was coming to mind until they reached the doors of their apartments.

“I should not have stayed at work that long. Tomorrow’s going to be a pain in the ass.”

“You’re telling me, I hate back-to-backs. We play well for the first one and then suck ass for the second because of how tired we are.”

“Well, you sucked ass today so maybe you’ll play well tomorrow.”

Quinn laughed at this, shooting her a smile, “Or maybe we’ll suck ass even more.”

✧༺✎༻∞

‘walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans i can't help thinking this is how it ought to be laughing on a park bench thinking to myself hey, isn't this easy?’

It was one of the rare off days that the two of them had and Chloe, as usual, wasn’t around. The two were quick to set up plans with one another and go walking around. When y/n walked out of her partment she saw Quinn standing otuside of his, getting ready to text her, “Hey.”

The boy looked up from his phone and smiled, “Hey.”

Y/n gave Quinn a once over, noticing his pair of worn-out jeans, “You need some new jeans there, Quinner?”

He laughs, “Probably, but I never have time to go shopping.”

She grins, “Well luckily we are going out so we can go get somethings. Come on!” She grabs his arm and pulls him to the elevator, the two sneaking glances at one another as they wait for it.

Quinn offered to drive them around, but she immediately said no, wanting to be able to walk around. The boy was amused by her immediate response and nodded, “Okay okay. We can walk, you weirdo.”

“Hey! Thank you for noticing.” She smiles and the two walk around downton Vancouver for awhile, stopping at a clothing store to get new jeans for him.

About an hour later all Quinn could hear was the complaints coming from the girl, “I’m tired. My feet hurt. And ‘m cold.”

“I told you we could’ve taken the car.” He threw an arm around her shoulders, allowing her to lean some of her weight onto him.

“But I wanted to walk- Quinn look!”

He looked over to wear y/n was now pointing and noticed the small ice cream shop on the corner, “Ice cream? It’s like 30 degrees out.”

She gave him a look, daring him to argue with her, “So?”

He held his arms up in surrender, lifting his arm from her shoulders leaving her feeling colder than before. His arm felt a little colder too, actually his whole right side of his body felt colder as she moved away from him. They both looked at each other with awkward smiles on their faces before he ushered her to move forward, “Well come on then.”

She grinned and followed after him, a new found pep in her step. When they got their ice cream, they made their way over to the park and sat down on one of the benches. Quinn was not fond of this idea, his whole body was cold and with him eating ice cream now, he sure as hell wasn’t getting any warmer.

They were talking about the upcoming banquet for the team, “I don’t understand these banquets. I don’t wanna go.”

Quinn whined like a little kid making y/n erupt in laughter. It was easy between them, they didn’t have to force conversation whenever they were together, they worked together so they saw each other almost all of the time, they understood each other’s life styles, each other’s humor. Quinn could always talk to her about hockey which was nice especially when it was a hard game. 

That’s all y/n could think about as they sat on the bench, how easy it was. She didn’t want to be selfish but truly, why was Quinn with her? She had never once heard her ask him how his game went, he always told her that she was busy at a premier or doing whatever she was doing while she was away. She always yelled at him over the phone, she acted possessive, truly she felt bad for Quinn. He deserved better.

✧༺✎༻∞

‘and you've got a smile that can light up this whole town i haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down’

Quinn’s smile was y/n’s favorite thing in the world. It made her smile, it made others smile, it was contagious. Every time she would be taking pictures on the ice and she would see Quinn with a smile plastered on his face she took a picture, and usually saw others around him smiling as well. 

Truth be told, it was rare with Quinn smiled, at least a full one. The most she got out of him lately was a small smirk or a tiny side grin when she would make a joke or any time they ran into each other really. She didn’t know if it was him just being him and not wanting to smile or if it was Chloe.

They had a fight a couple weeks ago, probably the worst one yet. She had been granted a small leave from the photo shoot so she came back to see Quinn, which shocked him. He had come home late from the game, they had won by a landslide and Quinn had gotten his first win as captain. They went out for drinks, even inviting y/n and some of the wags to go with. She accepted and made friends with some of the girls, some even joking that she would be one soon. 

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

Y/n might have had a little too much to drink, causing Quinn to have to drive her home, as usual. Quinn laughed as she stumbled down the hallway, talking about how she got so many pictures of him from tonight’s game, “I’m sure you did.”

She giggled, “I did! Believe me! They are all on my computer, I should make you my background.”

The boy blushed and shook his head, “Okay. I think you’ve had way too much to drink. Come on, where’s your keys?”

She could only mumble now, becoming increasingly tired as the thought of her bed on the other side of the door plagued her mind, “Pocket.”

Quinn reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the keys, keeping her upright with his arm wrapped around her waist. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside but before they even got a step into the apartment, Quinn’s door opened, “Quinn!”

Quinn looked suprised as he looked at his girlfriend standing in the entry way of his home, “Chloe? What are you doing here?”

“They gave me a break so I thought I would come and surprise you but I see you’re a little busy.”

A heavy glare settled on her face and Quinn looked apologetic, “Let me just get her inside then we will talk.”

Chloe only rolled her eyes and scoffed, walking back into his apartment. Quinn moved y/n to her bed, taking off her shoes and her jacket, “You need anything before I go?”

She shook her head. Quinn smiled at her before patting her calf and walking out of her apartment and into his own. It was only five minutes later that she could hear the screaming from the neighboring home. Y/n groaned at the noise before getting the urge to puke.

She ran into the bathroom and emptied her stomach into the toliet, groaning from the action. She leaned her head against the wall and listened to the sound of the two bickering back and forth. Ten minutes later and she still sat there when there was a slam followed by footsteps outside in the hallway. 

She frowned when she heard something being thrown across the room and sighed to herself, wishing she could help him.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

And ever since then, Quinn’s smiles had been slim to nonexistent even when they won a game, or he scored a goal. When they hung out and watched a comdey movie he didn’t smile, just a small upturn of his mouth and that was it. 

Now it was the beginning of November and everyone was buzzing from the incredible start the Cancuks had gotten off to. They were currently 8-2-1 going into the game against the Oilers and they were hoping to extend their win streak to four. 

Y/n was walking around in her usual attire in the arena, gathering pictures for later. She had gotten plenty from warm-ups and during the periods, taking a small break during intermissions before heading down to get some in the tunnel. 

Everyone erupted in cheers when the game was over, they had won 6-2. Y/n quickly put her skates on to head out for the stars of the game, trying not to get in anyone’s way as she did her job and they did theirs. She smiled when they announced Quinn as first star of the game, watching as he threw a stick over the boards, capturing the moment he turned around with a grin on his face.

All she could think about was that she was definitely going to use this in a video soon, even if Quinn did kill her for it. 

✧༺✎༻∞

‘oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night i'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry’

It had been a hard game for Quinn. Not only was it hard for Quinn with it being the Hughesbowl, but it was a hard loss for him and the team. They had done so well of getting back in the game, scoring three in 3rd, but alas it wasn’t enough. 

Quinn was taking it harder than anyone else, claiming how he should’ve done more for the team in order to win. He hadn’t done much the game, blaming it on him for not doing enough for them. Before going out with his family he told them he had to do something, going to y/n’s office and knocking on the door. 

He didn’t get an answer, mostly because y/n had already left since she was extremely exhausted from the amount of running back and forth she had to do during the game. Quinn left disappointed, meeting back up with his family for dinner. 

He came back home and stopped in front of her door, “Y/n/n.”

Luckily, she had been right at the door, doing a little bit of cleaning around her apartment. She heard the whisper of her name, it was barely audible. She opened up the door and smiled when she saw him, “Hey Quinn. What’s up?”

He didn’t say anything, just motioning with his hand if it was okay that he came inside. She stepped aside and the boy walked in, falling down on the couch. She approached him hesitantly, “Quinn? Are you okay?”

He looked up at her with tears in his eyes, “I’m not good enough am I?”

All the emotions came rushing to Quinn. Being constantly compared to his brothers, being constantly asked about them. Chloe was just using him for his money which he finally recognized a couple days ago. He kept being told that he was overrated and that he shouldn’t be captain.

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed and she walked over to him wrapping him in a hug, “What? Of course, you’re good enough Quinn. Who said that?”

Quinn shook his head, burrying it into her shoulder, “I can’t escape it, y/n. Every where I go everyone is always comparing me to Jack and I’m so sick of it. It’s like I can’t do anything right. I let the team down, I should’ve done better tonight. Now everyone thinks I’m the worst Hughes and someone said Luke shouldn’t even be looking up to me. And they keep telling me I’m a failure.

Y/n’s heart broke at his confession but it shattered when he said the next words, “And no one loves me anymore, y/n/n. Chloe’s just using me, she never wanted me. God I’m so stupid, I should’ve seen it coming.”

She rubbed his back and just let him let out all of his feelings. When it was silent for two minutes she pulled away from him and made her look into her eyes, “Listen to me, Quintin.”

He slightly smiled at the name, “You are no failure, Quinn. Believe me. You have been doing amazing this season, both personally and leading the team. You have led this team to 16 victories this season. And you led them to overtime twice and only lost one of them.”

“Yeah but I still lost them 8 games.”

“You couldn’t have done anything more than what you did, Quinn. You know what your guys’ record was last year through 25 games? 10-12-3. You won 6 more games this year. You have more goals at this point in the season then you did in the entire year last year, Quinn. Who cares that people, who are nobodies to you, are comparing you to Jack? You two have different experiences, you play two differnet positions, you play for two different teams. You do so much for Luke, I promise you. That kid will look up to you no matter what.”

Quinn’s eyes glistened with tears at her words, and the best thing was was that he believed her and that was all that she could ask for. He nodded his head when she was done and slowly unwrapped himself from her, missing the embrace immediately.

She didn’t want him to be sad, or at least leave while sad, so she said the only thing that came to mind, “If it makes you feel any better. I think you’re the best looking Hughes.”

Quinn laughed loudly, wiping the tears from his eyes that were threatening to fall, “Thanks y/n/n.”

“Any time, you want some ice cream?” He only nodded and she got up to get it.

The two spent the next hour and a half eating ice cream on her couch watching a movie, before falling asleep on each other. 

✧༺✎༻∞

‘and I know your favorite songs and you tell me 'bout your dreams think I know where you belong think I know it's with me’

It was a late night for both Quinn and y/n. The two were hanging out in her apartment after Quinn’s practice. They hadn’t had a game that night so they were on her couch watching whatever hockey game was on at that moment.

Y/n was sitting on her laptop editing some photos from the previous game, switching in between tabs quickly. Quinn was in the kitchen making dinner for the two of them after he offered. She could hear the sizzling from the pan and claled out, “What the hell are you making over there?”

Quinn looked down to see the noodles and furrowed his eyebrows, “Noodles!”

“I thought you were cooking up a mean meal, but noodles? I let you into my house and allow you to make me dinner and you make me noodles?”

She walked into the kitchen with her laptop and sat down at the counter. Quinn looked over at her offended, “Hey you said you didn’t care.”

She giggled, “I know. So Chef Quinn, what kind of noodles are you making?”

“Fettuccine.”

“Oh so you’re making me fancy noodles. I’ll forgive you.”

“Why thank you m’lady. Whatcha doing over there?” 

Quinn walked around the counter to look at her laptop, “Are you looking at pictures of my teammates?”

“If we’re being honest here, they are my main models.”

“And I thought I was your favorite.” He placed a hand to his chest before going back to check on the fettuccine.

“You are, I finished yours already. See there’s a folder that’s called ‘Captain Quintin’.” She spun her computer around and showed him, “Awe you love me.”

She shrugged, a blush rising to her cheeks, “Maybe…”

“You want to listen to some music?”

She nodded and pulled up Spotify on her computer, “What’s you’re favorite song?”

“And why do you want to know?”

She looked up at him with a deadpan face, “Are you shitting me?”

He smiled, “No.” He took the laptop and typed in his favorite song and added it to the queue, and then a few more after that.

“What’s your favorite?”

“And why do you want to know?”

“So I can add it!”

“It’s You Belong with Me.”

Quinn quirked an eyebrow but said nothing, making sure that song played first. When it came on, y/n immedaitely started singing it and Quinn looked over at her with a smile. He could get used to this.

When dinner was done, she took her computer back to the living room and sat it down before walking back into the kitchen to sit down at the counter once more, making sure they could both see the TV.

Halfway through eating, Quinn looked over at her, “What’s your dream?”

She finished the piece of fettuccine she was eating and looked at him, “What do you mean?”

“Like what’s your main dream for life.”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. I really like my job so probably keeping that job is part of it. I want to have two or four kids. And I want them close in age or at least two of them are. Like the oldest would be close in age and the youngest would be close in age.”

“Why two or four? Why not three?”

“Because I had two older brothers and they were both like 8 years older than me and I always felt left out. I don’t want my kids to feel like that. I mean not that you are like that with Jack and Luke but at least you guys are close in age right? You guys like the same thing, hell you do the same thing for a living.”

Quinn nods, understanding what she was saying, “Yeah, I see that.”

“What about you? What is your dream Quinn Hughes?”

He looked flustered, “I want to keep playing hockey, of course. I want kids but I don’t know how many. And I want a good partner. I want someone that understands that I have to travel a lot for work and how much pressure it is. I need someone who understands hockey and likes it. Chloe understands it, which is nice.”

She nods and smiles but saddened by the fact he still was with Chloe. She wasn’t good for him and she thought he was slowly starting to understand that. They continued to eat in silence, negative thoughts chewing away at both Quinn and y/n’s minds.

✧༺✎༻∞

‘can't you see that I'm the one who understands you? been here all along so, why can't you see? you belong with me’

Y/n stepped into the hallway, taking out the trash that had been overflowing in her garbage can for the past two days. She took a couple steps and saw Quinn stepping out of his apartment, “Hey.”

She noticed his tux he was wearing, he was fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves when she spoke, “Hi.”

The two stood in an awkward silence before Quinn asked, “Are you going tonight?”

It wasn’t that she forgot the banquet was tonight, it was more of the fact that she didn’t wnat to spend an entire night looking at Chloe wrapped around Quinn. She shook her head, “Nah, I’ve got some work to do.”

He nodded, confused a little since she had said ealrier in the week that she planned on going. He shrugged it off as just a simple plan change and frowned when he looked her in the eyes, “Wish you were.”

She smield and nodded, “I’m sorry to leave you to the wolves, Quinner.”

“You should be, it’s heartbreaking to know that my favorite person isn’t going to be there. How will I survive this evening?”

“You won’t, trust me.” She patted him on the back before going to walk to the garbage chute, “Here, I’ll just take it downstairs, I’m going that way anyways.”

She went to protest but Quinn was already taking it out of her hands and walking away, “Thank you.”

He waved her off, shooting her a smile, “Anytime.”

She walked back into her apartment and walked into her room, staring at the dress that hung on the back of her closet. She didn’t want to go, but after the comment that Quinn made she had a change of heart. She didn’t take long putting her makeup on, curling her hair as fast as possible. She threw on her dress and raced out the door, driving to the venue as quick as she could.

✧༺✎༻∞

‘standing by and waiting at your backdoor all this time how could you not know, baby? you belong with me have you ever thought just maybe you belong with me?’

Walking into the venue, y/n was nervous. She knew little to no people there mostly because her friends had already said they weren’t going or were going to be later than she was. She only knew a few guys on the team, including Quinn, and their wives or girlfriends.

She waved at some of the guys she walked past, lots of people making a clearing for her because of how she looked. Some of the guys that were single looked at her with a wide gaze, trying to decide if she was single or not. 

The piece of paper she had burned a hole through her pocket as she walked. It took Quinn five minutes to notice that she was there, having turned around and locked eyes with her. His eyebrows raised in amusement, a grin maing its way onto his face.

He waved bye to the group he was talking to and started to make his way over to the girl. He only got a few steps before Chloe took him by the arm, “Hey Quinn. I’m surprised you didn’t see me yet. You look so hot tonight.”

Quinn just smiled awkwardly before pulling away and continuing his previous path to the girl. Chloe looked at the two in shock and scoffed, walking away from the growing crowd. When he stood right in front of her he smiled, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

She nodded, “Yeah I had a change of heart.”

The boy couldn’t really make out any words, starstruck by how beautiful she looked. The only thing he could do was reach into his pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper. He straightened it out and showed it to her and she grinned, tears making their way into her eyes as she pulled out her own.

Everyone gasped in awe as they read the signs, both of them saying ‘I Love You’. He pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her cheek, “I can’t believe you remembered.”

“I remember everything about you, y/n/n."

✧༺✎༻∞

‘you belong with me’

It had been a long night, the game had lasted longer than everyone had expected. The two now always drove to and from work together when they could. Quinn would stay after the game until she was ready to go and vice versa.

Right now, they were laying in Quinn’s bed in his apartment, Quinn watching as she edited pictures from tonights game. He had an arm wrapped around her as she laid her head on his chest, her knees brought up so she could lay her computer on them.

He smiled when she kept getting pictures of him and he went to say something, “How many pictures of me do you have?”

She smiled, “You’re my boyfried now, you are going to have a lot of pictures of you taken. Plus, I don’t think the fans would mine, I’m doing god’s work Quinn.”

“What are you trying to say there? Do you think I’m cute?”

A blush rushed to her cheeks, “No, like I said. I’m just doing the fans a favor.” 

Quinn shut her laptop, placing it on the nightstand, “I think you’re doing yourself a favor.”

She hid her face in his chest, “Maybe.”

He laughed and wrapped both of his arms around her, tightenign his hold, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

@prettyinsatiable | @dancerbailey3 | @boliversworld | @if-my-heart-bleeds | @hearts-4-luke | @sarawinson78 | @pucks-goals-penalties | @elegieseulogise | @crazycat-ladys-blog | @privatemythss | @5secondsofonedirection222 | @piavettel33 | @bohemianrapshawty | @mikayladavis | @klkennedy | @hockeyboysarehot | @itsnotgray | @daisysnhl

#sunnylunespeaks #hockey #nhl #quinn hughes #qh43 #quinn hughes x reader #vancouver canucks #taylor swift #fearless #you belong with me #Spotify #sunnylunenhlxts

[thewulf]

Don't Go || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Reader is head over heels for Hotch but always assumes he doesn’t feel the same way. It’s around s7 and he gets together with Hotch and she withdraws over time. When Emily says goodbye she tells reader she is always welcome with her in London if she needs to leave, and after another couple months she takes Emily up on the offer.... Read Rest Here

A/N: Love this guy. Thank you for the request. Loved writing this one!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 3.1k+

Six Months Prior

“You know, I’m just a phone call away. I’d be happy to hire you as an agent.” You nodded at your best friends words. It didn’t seem possible that you’d ever accept the offer, but you couldn’t deny her either. Not right away at least.

“I’ll think about it Em.” Hugging her tightly you stifled the small cry that wanted to come out. She’d become a best friend to you over the years. The one true person you could trust through and through entirely The one who knew you better than you knew yourself.

She knew all about you crush on Hotch and how you’d never do anything about it. She tried for years after Haley’s death to get you to do something. You never did. He never did. It wasn’t meant to be.

She hugged you back squeezing you tightly into her embrace, “Please do. I’m being serious. Just a phone call away.” Her smile looked sad as she took one last look at you before getting into the security line.

You pulled away nodding at your friend, “Good luck Em. Call me when you land.”

She squeezed your hand once more. A gesture of love you’d grown to care for over the years, “Thanks for driving me. I’ll call you the second the plane lands.” She waved as you walked back to the garage. Man, you sure did hate goodbyes. You knew you’d see her soon but it still hurt.

You watched as she walked off into the airport. It certainly wouldn’t be the last time you’d see her, but it sure did suck you wouldn’t get to see her every day. But it was good for her. A promotion she desired. Maybe you would think of her offer. Maybe, just maybe. You took a mental image of Emily as she waved once more before disappearing.

Present Day

Maybe you weren’t supposed to hear it. But when you walked by Hotch’s office to drop off some files and Derek was already there you had to listen in. Had to, how could you not? But you’d regretted it the second you heard it, “My girlfriend and I went there this weekend.” His voice, your bosses voice, spoke through the doorway.

You heart sunk but Derek’s apparently soared. He hooted and clapped his bosses shoulder, “You did it? You asked Beth out?”

He nodded. You took a step back making sure you weren’t seen. Clutching the files to your chest you kept listening in, “Yeah. A few weeks ago. It’s been good. Jack seems to really like her.”

Damn. That was it then. Your chance was gone and over. You were the fool though. He’d given you years to make a move. You leaned back on the wall paralyzed. Knock on the door? Walked away? Keep listening to the horror show?

Paralysis won, “I’m happy for you Hotch.”

He hesitated. What did that mean? You took a step backwards before hearing him once more, “Me too. She different. Calm job that she loves. Relaxed all the time.” Everything you weren’t it felt like. Ouch.

Walking back down to your desk you checked the time on your computer. Nine in the morning, which meant that Emily was probably still working. You pulled your phone out of you back pocket sitting down in the office chair. Maybe it was time for a change. Nothing was happening for you here. Hotch was happy with somebody else. Not even the smiles and simple conversations between the two of you enough to satisfy. You’d harbored a stupid little crush that he never seemed to reciprocate. He didn’t hate the attention you gave him, no. He loved it dearly. He didn’t know much he loved it. Not until you began to withdraw from him.

It was the small things at first. Instead of looking at him when he spoke you kept your eyes on the case file or to the person beside you. You decided that smiling at him was no longer an option either. So, when you continued smiling at everybody in the office except for him it started to drive him crazy. Your smile actually dropped when you noticed he walked into the room. You stood up straighter in your chair and sucked in a breath. What in the hell was happening with you?

You were still kind. Still nodded in acknowledgement. Still recognized him as your boss and your boss only. You had to do this, for yourself. Had to break away. Start something new. This life was quickly becoming toxic.

It’d taken you months to find the courage to ask Emily for a transfer. But after you’d heard Hotch gushing about Beth once more it was the last straw for you. You didn’t want to hear about Beth and how fun she was. You didn’t want to hear about any of it. It wasn’t your place to tell him to cool it on her, so you had to do what you needed to do. Transfer to London.

Your knees bounced up and down in the smaller conference room you’d reserved to talk with Emily. You gulped when you heard her pick up from the other side on the line, “Y/N. How are you?” She asked you.

“I’m okay Em.” You let out a silent breath

She paused for a moment, “What’s up?” She knew you. Knew you deeply. Something was bugging you.

Might as well just spit it out, “I thought about your offer. Interpol.”

“Oh?” She sounded genuinely surprised that came out of your mouth. Such a homebody wouldn’t have ever dared to make this kind of decision.

“If you were being serious that is.” You wanted to clarify quickly. Maybe even she didn’t want or need you.

She nodded, but you couldn’t see it, “Of course I was! Absolutely yes. Let me just call Hotch and put the transfer in.”

You let out a breath, “I haven’t told him.”

“Why not?” She asked more as a friend rather than a future boss. How interesting all of that was going to be.

“I don’t know.”

She wouldn’t let you get away with that answer though, you knew that much, “Yes you do.”

You looked around the small conference room seeing all notes scribbled around. Looking ahead you watched as your coworkers walked around smiling and chatting with each other. You saw as Aaron looked around, maybe for you, maybe for somebody else. Your heart clenched when you looked back down at your phone, “He has a new girlfriend Emily. He’s head over heels for her.” You chewed on your already worn-down fingernails waiting for her response. A nasty habit you’d never been able to break in all your years.

“Oh sweetheart.” You heard her sigh from the other end of the phone, “Are you sure about this? Transferring? I don’t want you to feel like you’re running from your problems.” That’s what you’d admired most about Em.

You sat back down at your desk and waited. Waited for God knows how long. He didn’t call you into his office that day. Nor the next. It had been when you had gotten back from a case down in Miami that he asked you to stay behind on the jet for a moment. Nobody thought anything of it, but you knew. You knew exactly why he asked you to stay behind.

“A transfer?” His voice low once Spencer was out of earshot and down the stairs.

You couldn’t bear to look at him, so you just looked straight ahead, “Yeah.” You stated. Plain and simple. What else did you really have to say.

“Why?” He asked walking in front of you. He needed to know. More than ever, he craved to know what in the hell was happening with you. He’d adored you from afar for so long. The loving smile you always wore. The overly optimistic attitude often rubbed off on him. But it was fading. Fading so fast into the night that when Emily called he wasn’t surprised. Just hurt. Hurt that you wouldn’t have told him. And hurt that you wanted to leave him.

“I need a change.” It wasn’t a lie. You did need a change. You couldn’t just pine for your boss who was in love with another woman from afar. No, that was far too embarrassing. And exhausting. You had to go.

His eyes roamed your face for any tell. You were stoic as ever though. Hiding the waves of crashing emotions behind a big ass wall you’d never let come crumbling down. Shields that guarded your mind.

“You can find change here.” He started.

Shaking your head quickly you rebuked him, “I can’t. I’m stagnant. Tired. I can’t do this anymore.” You motioned your hand out to him before grabbing it back in towards your body.

“Can’t do what?” His eyes glazed over in curiosity as he studied you further. Trying to understand the person he thought he knew. Turns out he hadn’t a clue.

Your eyes narrowed. You weren’t actually going to tell him. Might as well keep him tapdancing on his toes, “This. I’m going crazy Hotch. I have to leave. Move on. Start a life.”

“What are you talking about Y/N?” He was either playing stupid or he genuinely hadn’t the faintest idea how you felt about him and that might’ve hurt worse.

You let out a little laugh, smiling because fuck it, might as well lay it all out for him clear as day. Something you never thought you’d have to do for a profiler. Leave it to Aaron Hotchner to act like a man in this situation, “I’ve been working with you for what? Five years now Hotch? I’ve been through a lot with you. You’ve seen me at my worst, and I’ve seen you at your lowest.” You sighed knowing you were just rambling now. Might as well rip the Band-Aid off, “I like you Hotch. Way more than an employee should. More than a friend should. I’ve liked you for so long and I’ve been too much of a coward to move on. So, I’m finally doing something for me. I can’t watch you fall in love Hotch. I just, I can’t. And I’m sorry. I’m weak.” You spilled out.

He shook his head reaching out. You took a step back involuntarily. Your brain reminding you that he had a girlfriend, “You’re not weak Y/N.” He frowned seeing you take a step back. You liked him? Had he never noticed? Had he never thought about it? Had he always seen you as just a friend?

You let out a full-on laugh, “I tell you I like you and that’s your response?”

He looked over your features for what felt like the first time. You were beautiful. Breathtaking even. He never let himself look at his coworkers like that. Things never turned out good when they did. Then you walked him. He knew how stunning you were. Then you were the kindest person he’d met on top of that? He was sure to be a sucker for you. But he blocked those thoughts out fast. He’d just have to enjoy your friendship. That was all. Plus, you were so much younger than him. Had so much more to look towards.

Through the years your smile never faltered. Not when Haley had been killed and he broke down right in front of you. Not when he needed it most. You were there and held him in your arms for hours whispering encouragement to the man. You were always there for him. Always there when he didn’t need you but wanted you to be there. You were always there, in the best way. You’d integrated yourself so seamlessly within his life he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. That was when he knew he’d fucked up. He’d fucked up with Beth by leading her on for so long. He didn’t want her. He wanted you. Who gave a damn about your age when you wanted him. When you initiated the charge. All bets were off now.

He'd always wanted you but tried to deny it. He hid it away in a locked-up box in the back corner of his brain, “Don’t go Y/N.”

You shook your head tears rushing to the forefront of your eyes, “You can’t do that Hotch. Not now. You have Beth. I have to go.”

He shook his head taking a step forward to match your backwards one, “You don’t have to go. Please. Let’s just talk. Take a seat.” He wanted to punch himself for being so formal with you like he always had. If he was going to try and break down that mental shield you put up being a stiff board certainly wouldn’t help.

You cocked your head to the side unsure of what you’d heard. You thought this was going to be quick and that was certainly not turning out to be the case here, “Okay.” You thought you’d owed him that. You were close not that long ago. That ended when Beth crept into his life taking hold of the crevices of his mind you’d used to hold so closely. How had he not even noticed? How was he this fucking blind?

He leaned forward once he sat on the couch at the back of the jet next to you, not daring to go back to the seat he was previously sitting in. He needed to be closer to you, “Don’t go.”

“Aaron.” You closed your eyes unsure of what to do. Certainly, unsure of what to say.

He shook his head, “Please. I… I can’t let you go.” His voice wavered as his own watery eyes looked onto yours. Damn. Your heart sped up at the sight feeling things you really shouldn’t have at that admission.

You squeezed your eyes shut, “Why?” You needed to know.

When he didn’t answer you opened your eyes. He was just looking at you. Carmel eyes tracing over every feature on your face. He smiled slightly when your eyes met his. You felt the blazing blush rise across your face as he kept studying you so obviously. The tension in the air grew thicker with every passing second of silence. As if he knew you couldn’t take it anymore he finally answered you, “I’m an idiot. I don’t want her Y/N. I want you. I may not have always known it but now that I do, it’s supposed to be you.”

You shook your head quickly in utter disbelief, “Don’t say that. You have Beth. You have a life here.”

His eyes grew serious as he scooted closer to you. His knees brushed yours as he leaned forward once more, “I need you to hear me right now. I don’t want her. I want you. Just… just let me clean this up.” He pleaded taking one of your hands in his. He knew he was onto something when you didn’t pull away from him.

“Aaron…”

He cut you off, “Please, just don’t go. Please. Let me fix this.” Every part of him begged you. The most emotion you’d seen since Haley had passed. It sent shivers down your spine as you thought about it. He was being vulnerable with you.

You swallowed unsure of what the fuck to do now. This was certainly not on your short list of items that could possibly have happened to you when you did this. Aaron Hotchner begging you not to go? Impossible. Yet here you were with his hands in yours and pleading eyes.

When you didn’t answer he continued, “Please. Don’t go.” He took your other hand in his. He too had to make a scary confession just like you had moments prior, “I may have been too blind to see it before but sweetheart I… I like you too. And I’ve been missing you. You’ve been here but you haven’t been present. You have been with everybody else but me. I don’t want a life without you in it. So please, please don’t go.” He would ask a million more times if that’s what it took. He’d do anything you asked. Go anywhere you wanted. Be anything you needed really. He always knew it was you. He was just playing by the rules for too long. You’d snapped him right out of that though. He couldn’t actually let you go to London. No way in hell. He’d normally do anything for his employees, but he couldn’t let you go. He’d find you a better job here if that’d what it meant for you to stay.

You gave in. You weren’t thinking right with his big hands covering yours so easily. A steady rub from his palm sent shivers up your arm sending your mind into a frenzy. A moment you were so scared for turned so intimate.

You nodded your head mumbling out a soft, “Okay.” Before being brave and turning your eyes up to his big brown ones.

The relief that washed over him at that was evident. He threw his head back in relief. A big smile crossed his face when he came back to looking at you, “Really?” He asked, not believing it himself.

“Yeah. You have good puppy dog eyes Hotch.”

He shook his head scooting you closer to him, “Call me Aaron, sweetheart.” You heart sped up once your legs tangled with his. Two oblivious idiots soon to be in love trying it for the first time together. Awkwardness and all you soaked it in. His touch. His smell. His presence with you right there on the jet.

“Alright, Aaron.”

He smiled that gorgeous smile you’d grown to love but never saw often enough. Rarely that smile would make its presence and when it did it blew you away. You smiled right back at him as looked you over once more, “Let me drive you home.”

“What about my car?” You asked the most obvious question it felt dumb coming out.

He shrugged, “I’ll pick you up before work tomorrow. No worries.”

You didn’t want to oblige but you really wanted the alone time, “If you’re sure.”

His smile only grew. He stood up and pulled you up right with him, “I’m positive. Now, let’s get you home.” He didn’t drop your hand as he led you down the stairs and over to the parking lot not that far from the air strip. Your smile didn’t falter as he led the way so utterly sure he’d made the right decision, finally.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom

Request Taglist: @mischief-merlyn @mrs-ssa-hotch

#aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #hotch #derek morgan #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotcher #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #hotchner x you #hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #emily prentiss #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x oc

[heavysoldat]

unattainable

dbf!bucky barnes x fem!reader

the reader and the terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.

warnings: SMUT (unprotected vaginal sex, cunnilingus, dirty talk, degradation & praise kink), age gap (19-early 20s x late 30s early 40s), inappropriate relationships, cheating, hurt/comfort, toxic relationships, gratuitous smut

this came out a lot softer than intended, whoops

You’ve had a rough fucking day. And that’s to put it lightly.

You woke up after sleeping through your alarm, twice, making you miss an online morning class and wildly late for another. The local brewery was all out of your usual order- which was the only thing that would’ve brought you peace. To make matters even worse, your phone died when you needed it most, and when your boyfriend; who you’ve been dating for over a year- handed you his cellphone to use instead, you were slapped in the face by sexually charged text messages between him and one of your closest friends. And all of that is just a brief summary.

Really, the last thing you needed was a stack of work given to you by your employer to do on your time off, but of course, that’s what you were given.

You’re sat at your kitchen island, home alone; your parents excusing themselves for a much needed date night, clad in nothing but panties and a shirt you had gotten at a concert years before, which was the only size they had left— a size too large for your frame.

The sound of the front door opening collides with your incessant tapping of keys, making you almost jump out of your skin. A relief washes over you when you see a familiar face, dressed for the fall weather and dropping a plastic bag by your side.

“Your dad home?” Bucky asks, almost grunting.

“No,” You say, turning to face him, “What’s in the bag?”

“Bread.” He says, opening it and showing you the round object wrapped in tinfoil. Bucky’s always been a good cook; at least when it comes to dough and grain. Your mother always insists he brings over extras when he bakes, and he always obliges, basking in her admiration for his skills.

When you reach to unwrap it, he slaps your hand away, making you yelp. “Hands off. This is for dinner.”

“Asshole,” You mumble, rubbing your now slightly irritated hand. You’re not usually like this— usually happy to see him, happy to see a warm, non familial face around the house to bring you conversation. But with a day like today, all chivalry is out the window.

“Hey,” He says, eyebrows raised. Despite his surprise, his voice remains calm. “What’s with the attitude?”

“I just don’t like getting slapped, surprisingly.”

“Don’t be a brat.” He says, voice stern and stabbing. He’s got his glare set on you, towering; it almost scares you, almost makes your heart drop to your stomach.

You don’t respond, instead opting to avert your gaze, placing your attention to the work on your computer and the splitting ache in your head and heart.

“Hey,” Bucky says, voice calmer, “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing,” You breathe, barely audible.

Your reply makes Bucky tsk, shaking his head with a click of his tongue. “You’re lying. Talk to me.”

You swallow, harsh and rough in your throat. You can barely help the way your lip quivers. Every piece of text on your computer is nothing but a blur, a mindless space of pixels that’s clouding your head. You’re almost staring past it, but desperate for a way to not look at him— because you know if you do, it will just make everything worse.

“I’m just having a bad day.” Your voice is soft. Fragile. Barely there.

You feel his hand rubbing your arm, trying to bring you as much comfort as he can. He can’t take your stress away, he knows that, but he just wants to put it to rest for now.

“What happened, hun?”

The nickname strikes through your chest, but simultaneously covering you in warmth. “I just…” You can barely speak without choking, “It’s just one of those days where everything goes fucking wrong. I wake up too late, I miss my classes, get berated by teachers who don’t understand that I can’t control how my body works— and then I can’t even get food in my stomach, let alone a fucking coffee. My parents wouldn’t call me back all day, wouldn’t even lend me a text, and Chase can’t be there for me because he’s too busy sending photos of his dick to other girls!”

“Hold on,” Bucky jets, tightening his grip on your arm, “What was that last part?”

“Chase?” You ask, eyes watery. Bucky nods. “I- He’s- He was texting- sexting my friend, Chloe.”

Bucky’s eyebrows tighten in a furrow, thumb stroking your bare skin. “He’s a fucking idiot.”

“No, I just…” You breathe in, trying to catch your breath from the four mile sprint of a monologue you just did, “I haven’t had time for him lately, y’know? I’ve been busy with my job, and-and school, we haven’t done anything in weeks, and y’know- he has needs. I don’t- blame him, I wasn’t- I wasn’t there.”

“What?” Bucky bellows, voice rising. You jump at the loudness, before he brings you back down with his grip. “Is that what he told you?”

You nod. Bucky sighs.

“Listen, I’m… I’m gonna give you some advice.” He says. “Take it from me. I’m a lot older than you, and I’ve had a fair share of weak moments- but never, ever would I think it’s okay to go behind a woman’s back just because I’m not gettin’ any. That’s fucking cowardice. If a guy ever tells you it’s your fault he cheated on you, run in the other direction.”

“He didn’t cheat on me,” You hiccup, “They didn’t do anything, they-they were just texting.”

“Did he say that, too?”

You pause, staring at him- before nodding.

“That’s bullshit. He went behind your back with someone else. That’s cheatin’.”

You bite your lip, not hard enough to break skin, adverting your eyes from his gaze. You let the words sink in, let them fill you, let them sit in your body for now. He’s right, and you know he is, but it’s hard for you to admit to yourself. It’s how you’ve always been treated by men. It’s how you’ve always experienced love. It’s how everything has always been.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head, huh?”

You laugh, breathy and broken, “I’m just… I feel like a shitty girlfriend.”

“Don’t say that shit,” Bucky has your face in his hand, pulling your gaze back to his. He’s staring at you with those steel eyes, intense in gaze; like they’re reading your thoughts. “He has a right hand for a reason.”

That makes you laugh. The sound of your giggle makes him laugh, his dimpled smile covering his features.

“I’m serious, okay? Don’t do that for yourself. He’s the asshole.”

“Yeah,” You sniffle, “He is.”

Bucky’s eyes are still on you when you look away, taken over by a soft gleam he’s had for a while now.

“I shouldn’t be crying over a guy who thinks eating pussy is gross,” You laugh, wiping your slightly teared cheeks with your palms.

“What?” Bucky’s gawking, almost comedically, “Gross?”

“You don’t think it’s gross?”

“Far from it.”

You smile weakly, only one corner of your mouth turning upward. You attempt to move back to your work, before he grips your arm again, pulling your gaze back.

“You sounded surprised,” He notes, “Has every guy you’ve ever dated thought that?”

“Uh…” You chew on your bottom lip, staring down at your lap, “Yeah.”

The silence that follows is almost deafening. Bucky’s seen you with a couple guys- seen the boys you bring home to meet your folks, boys who pull up in your driveway and great you with a rough kiss. The thought alone that you’ve just been taken without getting is enough to tighten his shoulders— a pretty little thing like you, perfect ass in tight panties— it’s insane to him. Insane that no ones taken advantage in the right way.

“So,” He tuts, “You’ve never had anyone eat you out before?”

The question surprises the shit out of you. Sure, you’ve had raunchy conversations with him— but they’ve all been shitty jokes followed by “if you tell your parents I joke with you like this, I’ll kill you”. He’s always been the soft, teddy bear next door with a potty mouth, careful to not overstep boundaries or get into you personally. He’s never even asked about the boys you’ve brought around, or pointed out the actors you ogle in movies. It’s always been behind a wall.

“No.”

He hums, deep in his throat, bringing one of his fingers to lift your chin. He’s got his gaze fixated on your mouth, nostrils flaring with his heavy breaths. “D’ya wanna know what it feels like?”

Your heart drops down into your stomach, falling into an ashy pit. Your breathing gets harder, thicker, your thighs clenching at the very suggestion— he’s always been the guy your friends have joked about being too hot for his own good, being a tease for remaining so forbidden. You’ve never said anything, never spoke a peep, knowing that if you admitted anything to yourself it would become real. He would become real. Instead of your dads friend who comes by with pastries, he’d turn into the man you stare at by swimming pools, praying he’s catching glimpses of how your ass looks in your swimsuit. And you had never been ready for that immature, young schoolgirl crush.

“What’re you saying?” Your voice is breathy, whispering. His free hand lays wait on your waste, itching to move down, tangled with the fabric of your shirt.

“Gonna ask you somethin’, and you can always say no, get up ‘n leave. Tell me to fuck off.” He says, still staring at your mouth, still holding onto you, “Can you get up ‘n bend over for me?”

Oh fuck. Suddenly every wall, every rule you’ve made with yourself, every illusion of unattainability comes crashing down, falling apart like bricks. If you weren’t clenching your thighs tight before, you are now.

You don’t even respond. With a heavy breath, you stand up, and he follows behind, moving back to give you room. You pause, letting yourself breathe— before placing your hands on the cold marble of the countertop, letting yourself bend down.

You can hear the shaky breath Bucky lets out, hear him fumbling to move behind you. The feeling of his hands on your hips almost makes you jolt. He moves you to where he wants you, before pulling you up, bracing your back flat against his chest.

“Listen to me,” He says, speaking into your ear, voice soft. “If you don’t want me to do this, just tell me, okay? Not doin’ anything you don’t want me to.”

You nod, but don’t move. With your silent consent, he pushes you back down, laying you flat against the island. He hooks a prosthetic finger into your panties, pulling them slowly down your legs, letting you step out of them.

“Mmm,” He hums, letting himself fall down to his knees. He’s staring up at your pussy, glistening with your arousal, profited by his very presence. He slides a finger through your drenched folds, making you twitch, rubbing your slit from top to bottom in an experimental test.

The first slide of his tongue in your folds is heavenly. It has you keening, legs trying to move away, but he keeps you there with a tight grip of his hands. He’s wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking lightly, finger teasing your hole with wide circles.

“Oh fuck,” You’re moaning, head falling forward and eyes rolling back. It’s different from anything else, better than anything else— and he’s got you stuck, manhandling you the way he wants you. The way he knows is best for you.

When he slides his fingers in, you clench hard, making him moan around your cunt. The vibrations send a jolt of pleasure up your spine, leaving you whining- whimpering against the granite.

With him switching from sucking your clit, to fucking your hole with his tongue— it’s not long before you feel the build up deep in your core, spinning wildly towards your finish. You’re grinding against his face, practically smothering him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, with the way he’s moaning, whining against your soaked pussy, you’d say he fucking loves it.

Then, you’re cumming, drenching his face with your wetness, his face buried deeper than you thought possible. It leaves your legs twitching.

As you come down, he goes up, fingers still sliding inside of your cunt as he pulls you back up towards him. With you leaning back against his chest, he leans down to your ear:

“You know why I’m doin’ this?” He asks, fingers still gliding inside of you, overstimulating you in the best way, “Cause you drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

You’re gasping, gripping his arms tight, his thumb flicking and rubbing your sensitive nub, fingers pounding away at that spongey spot deep inside your core.

“Every time I come in here,” He grunts, “You’re dressed like this. Tight ass in those fuckin’ panties, beautiful legs— you have no idea what you do to me. Your dad would kill me, if he knew what I was thinkin’, if he knew how I hard I fucked my fist thinkin’ about his sweet little girl. How bad I wanna stuff her cunt full, watch the way she cums— just wanna treat her right. Cause you deserve it, honey, you fuckin’ do. Tired of watching you get pushed around by little boys who don’t know nothin’ about making you happy. Just wanna see you happy, wanna see you satisfied. Wanna see you get what you need. What you deserve.”

“Please,” You beg, eye’s shut tight, “Buck, please fuck me, please.”

It has him gasping, breath fluttering. “I can’t, honey, this is about you.”

“Please.” You’re practically crying. “Please, I need your cock so fucking bad, please— I need you to fill me up, want you to fuck me so good, Bucky, please!”

“Fuck,” Bucky curses, grinding his already throbbing cock against your bare ass, “Fuck!”

You hear him fumbling with his belt, the clinking of metal filling up the murderous silence. He pulls up behind you, gripping your hips, before stopping—

“Fuck,” He stops, “Don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on the pill,” You don’t have time for this. You’re practically dripping arousal onto the floor, clenching around nothing, cunt desperate for his cock. “You can cum inside me, you can do whatever you want, please just fuck me.”

You’re going to be the fucking death of him, he swears.

The first slide of his cock makes your body twitch. His cock stretches you almost to the point of pain, burying inside you to the hilt with a heavy moan. His balls are heavy against your ass, ready to burst, thrusting shallowly into your cunt out of desperation.

“Fuck,” He moans, “God, your pussy’s so fuckin’ good.”

“Please, move,” You whine, “Just fuck me.”

Bucky places his hand on the small of your back, softly pushing you down against the countertop. After he places himself just right, he starts snapping into you, deep and hard.

You’re reeling, moaning against the marble, the slapping of skin on skin filling up your ears. You can hear him moaning, grunting about how good you feel, precum dripping down in your inner walls.

“Oh god,” Bucky’s grunting, thrusts getting faster. “God, yeah, stay just like that for me. Let me fuck that pretty cunt, fuck, lemme fill you.”

“Yes, yes,” You’re moaning like you’re being paid, gripping the counter so hard your nails change color, “Please, please fuck me— fuck, harder, please, Bucky.”

The sound of your moans have him desperate. He feels feral, uncontrollable, unable to stop how recklessly he fucks you. He lifts your leg up, pulling his arm underneath it as leverage to fuck you deeper. You’re both colliding in a symphony of moans, the sounds of your pleasure so loud you know the neighbors can hear.

“This what you wanted?” Bucky slaps your ass, watching as the flesh jiggles underneath his thrusts, “This what you were begging for? A thick cock in your tight little pussy? Fuck, how shitty those boys fuckin’ treated you, leavin’ you this desperate for cock, practically fuckin’ drooling against the counter. Fuck, take it like that, honey, you’re takin’ it so fucking good for me.”

Your moans are practically incoherent at this point. You’re blabbering, unable to keep your mouth shut, desperately humping yourself back against him when he moves to rub at your clit.

“So fuckin’ cock hungry,” Bucky laughs, “What would daddy think of you?”

When you clench around him, he knows he’s got you with his words. “Yeah? What would daddy think about his sweet girl getting pounded in his own kitchen? Begging to be fucked by the only man who’s ever gonna fuckin’ treat her right?”

“I’m a- I’m a slut,” You moan, broken.

“Oh god, yeah you are.” Bucky pulls you up, putting your leg down and pressing you against him by your throat. “But you’re my fuckin’ slut. Don’t wanna see anymore boys around here— the only cock you’re gettin’ is mine, okay? Only cock that can make you feel this good.”

“I’m gonna cum again,” You whine, grabbing onto the hand thats wrapped around your throat. “I’m gonna cum, please.”

“Good fuckin’ girl,” He moans, fucking you harder, faster, “Cum around this cock, baby, fuckin’ claim it. C’mon, be a good girl and cum.”

The orgasm rips through you hard, your moans turning into screams as he fucks you through it. You can barely make out his praise, the way he’s commending you for coming around him. The chord snap is almost painful, almost has you trying to run away from it, but the feeling of your orgasm running through your core is enough to have you crying.

“Oh god, here it fuckin’ comes, baby,” Bucky moans, eyes shut tight, panting breaths against your skin, “Gonna cum so fucking hard, I’m fuckin’ shaking,”

You’re begging him for it, pleading for him to cum inside you, fill you up—

With one hard thrust deep inside you, he lets out a loud yell, cum filling you up deep inside your body. He’s shivering, humping desperately against your ass as he rides it out, light moans escaping his lips.

The aftermath of it scares you. You can feel reality set in as he slides his cock out, cum dripping down your leg and onto the tiled floor.

Before you can let your thoughts sink in, he’s grabbing you by the chin, pulling you to face him. He captures your mouth in a kiss, tongue finding its way in your mouth, passion setting in heavier than anything else. You moan against his mouth, letting him groan, pulling you against him by your waist.

When he pulls away, he’s followed by a string of saliva— one of the many things connecting the both of you.

“If you ever need anythin’,” Bucky says, using his thumb to wipe up the spit on your chin, “Just ask me. I’ll give you everything.”

“Can you-“ You stutter, embarrassment flooding you at how exposed you are, “Can you help me clean up, please?”

He smiles at the politeness you still give him even after all of that. Bucky turns you around to face him, before sliding down to his knees on the floor.

“I didn’t mean like that!”

“Mmm,” He hums, grin plastered on his face, “But I prefer to do it this way.”

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes smut #my writing #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #dbf!bucky #its so hard to write when my brain keeps going #oo hes comin off way too pushy i hope he dont think he was gettin this pussy

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (4)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Thank you all for the continuous support!

I'm finding it so hard to keep the characters acting how they would in the game...

Also I'm a bit nervous to post this since I'm not feeling confident.

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"Pierro, I think we're attracting unwanted attention." Columbina whispered to the older male, her face unchanging.

He didn't reply, he continued to watch the doctor walk around and look for the Decider.

"Dottore, do you even know what they look like?" Scaramouche asked the man.

"I may or may not have discovered this problematic issue."

Meanwhile, you were in line with your family waiting for your turn to order at the desk.

Your aunt didn't bring her card, so now you all had to physically go to the desk instead of order at one of the tablets.

While your aunt was fiddling with her purse, you were eyeing the Dottore cosplayer walking around the room.

He seemed to be looking for something... or someone...

You wanted to walk up to him, you really did. However, you were with your family right now.

You couldn't just leave them and help someone you wanted to be friends with.

"Y/N! I've been calling your name for the past 5 minutes." Your aunt snapped her fingers in front of your eyes.

"Sorry, sorry, what did you want?" You blinked, focusing your eyes on her.

"I was asking what you wanted, we're next in line." She pointed, the teenagers in front of you grabbing their ticket from the cashier.

"Speaking of which, we're now being served."

Damn it, you were so focused on the cosplayer you didn't decide on what to order!

Hmm, a cheeseburger does sound good... and certainly smells good too.

"Just decide for me." You sighed to yourself, fumbling with your fingers.

"WHAT!? This is so unlike you! ...For your courtesy to my wallet, I'll buy you an extra milkshake."

"Yay."

The Harbingers regrouped at the entrance of the building.

"Dottore, what's our next plan?" Capitano questioned, moving further away from gazes passed at him.

"I'd personally like to leave public view as soon as possible, I think I'm the main problem."

"You could never be the problem, Captain!" Childe smiled.

"Fucking brown noser." Scaramouche scoffed.

"Shut up, balladeer! We all know it's your hat that's attracting attention!"

"Would you two stop arguing like children!" Pulcinella raised his voice, Childe backing away.

"Right, so I'm the child." The Balladeer scoffed, his arms folded as he looks away.

"Do you want extra time in the abyss once we return to Teyvat?" Pierro threatened.

"I'd love that extra time, anywhere away from the fucking man that brought us here is pleasant enough."

"Of course you'd say that." He shook his head in annoyance.

"Dottore, what's our next plan?" Pantalone asked him.

"I have an idea! Let's just kill everyone to attract their attention." Childe suggested.

"Absolutely not, I'm not looking to dirty my hands here." Signora shut him down.

"Tartaglia's idea isn't a bad one." Dottore thought out loud.

"Excuse me?" Sandrone gaped. "How is causing mass-murder an acceptable idea?"

Dottore paused, looked around him, then continued.

"It hurts my intellect to admit this, but we don't have any other options."

"Dottore is right, we can't miss this chance. Who knows when they'll leave the building." Pantalone nodded.

"Additionally, I don't feel like walking much further."

It was decided.

"Well then, comrades, let's dance. I'm glad you all see my way for once."

You were sitting in a dirty ass toilet stall which probably hasn't been cleaned in weeks.

Fiddling with the phone in your hand, you curse to yourself quietly when your Childe still wasn't working.

Okay, it's clearly not your computer that's the issue.

You were about to leave the stall, when all of a sudden you heard screams outside.

Did... Did a celebrity walk through the door or something?

You walked out of the stall, washed your hands and peaked through the main door.

...

Blood. Blood was everywhere. It was splattered across the windows, the stools, the food, the corpses.

The smell was awful. Iron filled your nostrils, making you gag.

You shook with fear, stepping back slightly.

What happened while you were gone!? More importantly, where was your family!?

You wanted to check, but you didn't know if it was safe.

Oh, of course! 999 is usually the number you call in these situations... right? They'll be able to help!

You shut the main door slowly, and ran back to the bathroom stalls.

You quickly dialed the number, and put your phone up to your ear.

"999, what's your--"

"Please, help me, help the people! I don't know what happened." You whispered harshly, hearing footsteps behind the bathroom door.

"Calm down, love... Take deep breaths and explain what's going on." The elderly voice behind the phone calmly warned.

"My... My family. We went to a fast food place for lunch, I went to the toilet. I come back, and... everyone in the entire facility is laid on the floor with blood surrounding them!"

"Did you see anyone out there alive? Perhaps the murderer?"

"No! I ran back inside the toilet in fear! Ohh, I hope my family are safe..."

"Alright, sweetie. Here's what we're going to do. I need you to tell me where you are, and to follow my instructions. From the sound of your situation, you'll need paramedics and police?"

"Yes, yes! Anything that can help! I--"

You heard the bathroom door open.

"I'm fucking checking the room now!" You heard a voice yell. "That damned doctor..."

You felt yourself slowly climb on top of the toilet, hiding your feet from view.

"Hello...? Is everything alright?" You heard the woman on the phone.

When the woman spoke, the footsteps paused.

You couldn't breathe, you were terrified. You could feel your hands shaking, the phone in your grip becoming increasingly heavy.

"There's someone in here!" You heard the male voice shout.

So, there's more than one murderer... who would do this? Who would have the conscience to murder these people in cold-blood?

That's not important. Right now, you had to find an escape.

"_____ ___ _______," You whispered your location. "send help..."

You hung up the phone and frantically looked around the stall for something to defend yourself with.

It's clear to you that you're dead meat. One wrong decision and you're dead. You had to survive until the police arrived.

The footsteps began to move again, you could see sandals when you peaked under the door.

You heard a knock from the other side.

"Listen here, and listen here closely. We've got you surrounded, you can't escape." The voice started.

"If you don't show yourself in 5 seconds, I'm ripping this weak door and showing you to The Doctor." He threatened.

"5..."

What do you do!?

"4..."

They'll kill you!

"3..."

Dottore? Are the cosplayers behind this?

"2..."

This is sick, everything about this is making you sick. Move legs, MOVE!

"1."

BANG!

I want to bring the series into an entirely different direction. I'm going to try and make things quite dark, if possible.

Like I said earlier, I am a very bad writer. The aim of writing these situations is for practice and to see what I'm good at and what I'm bad at.

If anyone has any critiques for me, please tell me if you're comfortable with sharing!

Despite my plans being fucked up, I want to have fun with it!

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine! I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

#sagau #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #fatui harbingers #yandere harbingers #genshin #pierro #capitano #il dottore #columbina #arlecchino #pulcinella #scaramouche #sandrone #la signora #pantalone #tartaglia #childe

[jae-bummer]

You Are Everything

Request: 20 and binnie??

Prompt:

20) You confess to your idol while sleep talking.

Pairing: Stray Kids Changbin x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

Grumbling, you smacked weakly at Chan's arm as he tugged you toward Changbin's room. "Don't wanna."

"Just watching you nap made my whole body hurt," Chan chuckled, holding nearly all of your body weight as he hauled you down the hallway. "The couch is definitely not the most comfortable place."

"If I get in bed, I'm going to sleep too deeply," you complained as Chan shouldered open the door. "I told Bin-"

"Yes, we all know you're going to get dinner together," Chan grinned. "He mentioned it at least four times before he went to the gym."

You pouted as he eased you on to the bed. Pushing delicately on your shoulders until you laid back, he then picked up your ankles and tucked your legs under the blankets. "Better?"

You blinked up wearily to the shadow of Chan in front of you. Gazing sleepily around the room, you took in your surroundings. Sure, you had been in Changbin's room a handful of times, but you had never planned to make yourself cozy there. There were blackout curtains hung slightly crooked over the window, a large desk with Changbin's computer setup, and mood lighting everywhere. As you settled deeper into the mattress, you couldn't help but notice the small collection of plushies nestled there with you. "I'm not going to tell you that you were right."

"Of course not," Chan laughed in amusement. "Gotta have some self respect."

You shook your head and giggled lightly before turning away from him. "Wake me up if he isn't back in an hour."

"I won't," Chan sang as he began to leave. "Sleep well, Y/N!"

..

Changbin hummed happily to himself as he typed in the code to enter the dorm. He was always happy when the prospect of food was on the horizon, but this would be better than his average meal.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," he chanted happily to himself as he pushed open the door. With a smile already stretching across his face, he popped off his shoes and dropped his bag. He had already showered and changed at the gym so he was ready to capture your heart through your stomach.

For the better part of a year, he had been trying to convince himself that he wasn't attracted to you. Doing that was much easier than convincing his friends, as they had all been pushing him to make his move before it was too late.

After a long and somewhat stern conversation over drinks with his older members the night before, he had finally settled on it. He was going to confess tonight over delicious food. It was going to be perfect.

"Hey," Changbin grunted, his eyes sweeping across the living area. "Where's Y/N?"

"There's no "hello friends?"" Han asked, quirking a brow. "No "how was your day?""

"Nope," Hyunjin clucked from his spot by the window. Sketch pad in hand, he didn't even bother looking up. "We're old news now, Hannie."

Changbin rolled his eyes before looking helplessly to Chan. The oldest member smiled up at him. "They're in your bed."

It took a few moments for that to sink into Changbin's understanding. "I, I'm sorry, what?"

"They're in your bed," Chan repeated simply before looking back to his phone. "They were tired."

"So...my bed was the best place?" Changbin croaked. At rapid speed, the contents of his room came streaking past his mind. Did he have anything embarrassing out? Had he remembered to handle laundry? Oh god, were his sheets fresh?

"Bin?"

Changbin looked up in surprise. "What?"

"I said you should probably go wake them so you're not late for dinner," Chan hummed. His eyes danced mischievously.

"Right," Changbin nodded. Taking a deep breath, he remained locked in his spot. "Right."

Chan shook his head before standing and giving a firm push to Changbin's shoulder.

"Right," Changbin repeated, finally willing his steps to move him toward his room.

If he hadn't known any better, he could have sworn that a hummingbird had taken up residence where his heart previously sat. Just the image of you in his bed was making him feel fuzzy along the edges. The cuteness would easily overwhelm his senses and he was certain to short circuit and fall to the floor.

Pressing slowly against the handle, he eased the door open. Trying to adjust his eyes to the darker lighting, he stuck his head into the room before his body. He could see your face scrunched up in sleep, your body nestled in a sea of blankets.

If a button smash could be described with a sound, Changbin made it. Springing backward out of the room, he paced quickly back down the hall and faced Chan. "They're in my bed."

"Good on you for catching up," Chan laughed. "Wake them."

"Right," he said quietly before turning on his heel and heading back in the direction he had just came from.

"Wake Y/N up," he confirmed quietly to himself. Pushing the door further open, he took measured steps.

Finally getting to the edge of the bed, he lowered himself to his knees. Now crouched eye level with the mattress, he leaned forward and set his elbows on the blankets. Sliding his chin into his palm, he allowed himself a moment just to look at you.

You were the most adorable person he had ever seen, especially while asleep. Carefully moving his free hand, he reached forward to smooth out the small worry line in between your brows. The contact didn't wake you, but only caused you to stir.

"Mmmm," you groaned. Changbin's hand slowly moved back, unsure of what he should do next.

"Y/N?" he whispered. Deciding to set his fingers on your arm, he rubbed small, gentle circles into your skin. "Y/N, it's time to get up."

Maybe he had made his voice too light or you had been sleeping too hard, but you refused to open your eyes. Taking a deep breath, Changbin moved to wiggle your arm but instantly stopped as you began to make noise again.

"Binnie," you groaned, flopping to face him more directly.

"Yes?" he said, his voice barely above a breath.

"Bin," you squeaked again. Changbin hummed as he began to comprehend the situation. You were still no where near awake, so you must be sleep talking.

"Why are you so handsome?" you slurred with sleep. "So handsome, my Binnie."

Changbin's eyes grew wide as his hands flew to his mouth. He looked from you and back to the door to confirm no one was watching (or playing a joke). Confirming the two of you were alone, he let out a silent shriek of excitement.

"I like you so much," you sighed happily. "So so much."

Changbin remained still, which was a fairly impossible feat for him. He could feel himself slipping into excitement, unintentionally vibrating his own body. Were you talking about him still? Following your string of mumbling definitely made him think you were.

"My Binnie," you croaked again with a small stretch. "Mine, mine, mine."

At this point, Changbin could hardly contain himself. Wiggling in place, he finally let a high-pitched cry escape.

Immediately clapping a hand to his lips again, he watched as you finally opened your eyes. Squinting at him, you let out a small chuckle of surprise. "Hey."

"Hello..." Changbin said slowly, giving you a bit of a side eye.

"I thought I felt someone watching me," you grinned. "Creep."

Changbin nodded in what appeared to be agreement which caused you to laugh even harder. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you waited for him to respond. After several moments of him just staring dreamily at you, you realized he had no intention of breaking the silence.

"What's up with you?" you sighed, tucking your hands under your head. "Are you mad I messed up your bed?"

He shook his head quickly before glancing around the room. He seemed to be assessing just what was left on the floor and other surfaces. You didn't care if he was messy, it was his room after all.

"I'm sorry, but I have never heard you so quiet in the entirety of our friendship," you smiled. You couldn't say you didn't enjoy it though. The way he was gazing at you was doing something to your head. You absolutely adored Changbin, but never thought he would feel anything past friendly fondness. He was a nice guy, which meant he was nice to everyone.

"You...you..." he finally managed.

"I?"

"You were sleep-talking," he finally croaked out. His voice was deep and gravelly, as if he had just woken up himself.

"Was I?" you hummed with a smirk. "Any secrets I gave up? I have a few on Han that would be a riot if someone else heard."

"I...think it was a secret," he continued slowly.

Furrowing your brows, a sudden empty feeling started to inhabit your stomach. It didn't seem like this was a joke anymore. Pulling yourself to sit up, you shook your head at Changbin. "What? What was it?"

"You...I..." he started, but chewed on his lip. "You like me?"

"Of course I like you," you whispered, punching his shoulder gently. "You knew that."

"Right," he chuckled nervously. "But this time...uh...could it maybe be more than a friend?"

It seemed like every last drop of saliva had chosen that time to evaporate from your mouth, rendering you speechless. How could you screw up so badly? You were going to completely ruin your dynamic with your best friend all because unconscious you couldn't keep their mouth shut.

"I...I..." you stuttered, looking at him with wide eyes. It soon became increasingly evident that as you continued to find an answer, you did not have one at all.

"You do!" Changbin huffed in disbelief. His lips tilted into his patented crooked smirk.

It took you a moment to clock his expression as you weren't expecting a positive reaction. Did that mean he....?

You didn't have to ask because Changbin was already launching himself at you. With high pitched squeals of delight, he tackled you into bed and wrapped you in his strong arms. Kissing whatever available space he could find on your face, he finally stopped when you placed a hand on his chest. "Bin!"

"Yes?" he grinned, so warm and close to you.

You eased into his body and chuckled. "I'm guessing that means you like me too?"

"Do I like you?" he asked, indignant. "Really? You need it plainly stated?"

"I mean..." you smirked. "It doesn't hurt."

Rolling his eyes, Changbin cleared his throat and pulled you closer. Leveling his stare so he could look into your eyes, he said much more quietly. "Y/N, I like you. Likely more than what is a healthy amount."

You instantly beamed, but that smile was stolen from your lips by a soft kiss. Pulling away, Changbin looked surprised at his self-initiated action. "Was...was that okay?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you reached up to touch his cheek. "How dare you soil my innocence."

"I was caught in the moment and I-" he started to complain loudly, but this was your time to catch him off guard. Holding the back of his neck, you pressed your lips hastily against his. Caught mid sentence, he immediately fell into the kiss and moved to lean over you. You dropped your hand and allowed him to cradle your face instead. He instantly began to deepen the kiss, pushing your head further into the fluffy pillows cushioning you. Sweet and succinct, kissing him was everything you had expected and more. With the press of his lips, you felt so cared for and protected. You would die in this bed if it meant you could lazily kiss him forever. Time didn't exist here, only his face next to yours.

Nipping playfully at your lower lip, you could feel the smile behind his actions. He was wrapped so thoroughly around you that you weren't sure where you stopped and he began. You could feel the heat and tension pulsing through both of you as he moved his hand from your cheek and clutched at your waist instead. His fingers balled into the fabric of your pants, the friction causing a shot of electricity to zip across your body.

You were sure if you continued, you may spontaneously combust. Pulling away slightly, you hummed, "Down, boy."

Breaking into a beautiful smile, he buried his face in your neck, embarrassed by how eager he was. "Sorry," he mumbled into your skin.

"Don't be," you cooed, reaching up to scratch his scalp. "This was...everything."

"Everything?" he perked up, leaning away from you to search your face.

"Mhm," you confirmed. "You, Changbin, are everything."

"I like that," he nodded, his eyebrows pinched in approval. "Everything."

#seo changbin #changbin #skz #stray kids #stray kids changbin #skz changbin #changbin x reader #changbin fluff #changbin fanfic #changbin fic #binnie #skz fluff #skz fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids romance #changbin romance

[straykids-97]

Heat

Day Three of Spooky Week!

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.

Warnings: Werewolf Changbin, (Binnie is whipped for the reader), praise, manhandling (if you squint), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (m & f), orgasm control (if you squint), Changbin also mocks the reader so like, dumbification too? lmk if I forgot anything

Word Count: 2.04k

Changbin was distracted. And it was all your fault. Not that you were intentionally trying to distract him, you were cleaning the kitchen after dinner. Music played softly from your phone, he could hear every word that you hummed along to as you wiped the dishtowel over the counters. 

He was trying to focus at his desk, but your swaying hips drew his attention every time you moved. Changbin let out a huff, turning back to his computer and putting his headphones back on, dead set on finishing what he had started earlier. 

But he found himself straining to listen to you softly singing, and his eyes began to wander back to where you stood, putting dishes away. Changbin rolled his eyes, knowing that his Alpha, Chris, was going to have his head if he didn’t complete this overture before the end of the week. So, he persisted, albeit distracted. 

Everything happened in a cycle, and he knew he was next. But, he thought he had a little longer, at least a week or so before he hit his rut. It always went Chris, Minho and then him, the rest of their pack falling after Changbin. Minho had just ended his, so Changbin was anticipating his to hit soon. 

But not this soon.

He realized very suddenly having his human girlfriend nearby was probably not in either of your interests. No matter how badly he dreamt of just bending you over and fuc- He stopped the thought before it came out, balling his hands into fists. “Fuck.” He hissed, holding his head in his hands. 

You both had an agreement for your safety; do avoid Changbin during his rut. Changbin was strong, incredibly so, and he was very scared of hurting you while chasing his high. Not just by putting you into whatever position he desired, but from overstimulation. Rutting was rough, not just on who was affected directly but indirectly as well. You two were only just starting to grow intimate, and he didn’t want to scare you away by rutting. 

It could get scary, and fast.  

Changbin twisted, eyes dancing up your bare calves to your thighs. “Baby,” he breathed, pulling his headphones off, “I think you should go come tonight…” He trailed off. At his words, you turned to look at him, pouting slightly. “What? I brought clothes-” You start to say but when he stands you realize what he was getting at. 

“Oh.” Your face heats with a blush, “Are you sure?” Changbin swallows, hard. “I don’t want to hurt you on accident… I didn’t think my rut would be hitting so quick- I just think you should go home…” Your eyes land on his bulge, and you can’t help but stare. He was well endowed, that much was noticeable from the beginning. Even before the two of you started dating, you knew he wasn’t lying when he said he knew what he was packing. 

“Binnie…” You trail off, putting your towel on the counter. He groans at the sound of you saying his nickname, his eyes watching your every movement as you slowly move toward him. “Binnie… I can’t go home… I feel like I’m doing something wrong by leaving you like this…” You close the distance, looking up into his eyes. 

At first, he tried to not meet your gaze, but grabbing his chin to drag his attention back made something in him snap. Changbin quickly wrapped his hand around your wrist, squeezing just enough to let you know you were treading on thin ice but not enough to hurt you. “Y/n.” He grunted, “Don’t. I’m begging.” He was fighting an inner battle that looked like he was teetering on the edge of losing. 

“If you want me to go,” you lean in, “then I’ll go.” You watch as he clenches his jaw and bobs his head. You take a half step backward, “Ok.” You give him some space and offer a soft smile. “I’m one call away if you need me, Binnie.” You go to the bedroom and put your sweatpants on. After gathering your things, you begin to walk to the door. You come to the living room to find that Changbin hasn’t moved a fraction of an inch. His eyes tracked your movements as you paused, “I’ll text you when I get home…” You give him another smile before turning and going to the door. 

Passing through the dining area to the hallway where the door was, you put your bag of clothes on the ground so that you could put your shoes on. As you righted yourself, a hand wrapped around the front of your throat, pulling you tightly to Changbin’s hard chest. You gasp as hot breath spreads across your shoulder. “You make me feel so fucking guilty for wanting you sometimes.” 

He’s panting, his chest heaving up and down as he squeezes tighter, not enough to hurt but enough to make you drop your other bag. “Chan-” You start to protest, but he pins you to the wall before you can form a sentence. 

“You make this so fucking difficult.” He groans, yanking off your shirt. “Fuck.” he sucks on his bottom lip as he roughly palms your breasts, moaning. He rips your bra off, ruining one of your favorite bras in seconds. He wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs and picks you up, causing you to squeal. 

Your breasts were in his face, not that he was protesting. He originally wanted to bring you to the bedroom, but the smell of your arousal thwarted those plans. So, instead, he tossed you onto the couch. You were breathless as you stared up at him and he essentially ripped his clothes off as well. 

The only thing left between you and him was your sweats and panties, which he peeled off in record time. He pushed your thighs up, your knees by your face as he licks a stripe up your bare pussy. You gasp, throwing your head back in ecstasy as he swirls his tongue around your clit. Your hands don’t know where to go; in his hair or to hang on to the couch for dear life. 

He was eating you out like a man starved. 

“Changbin!” You cry out as he inserts two of his thick fingers, angling them up so that they hit that gooey spot that makes your toes curl and see stars. Your eyes roll back and your head presses into the cushion, “Fuck!” The leg he dropped was now draped over his shoulder as he made you come, screaming as he pulled away. You were shaking, “Holy shit.” You pant, staring up at him with hooded eyes, watching as he licked his lips. 

He wiped his face with a hand, licking the fingers that he had just put inside you like they were ice cream. Changbin grins down at you wickedly, crawling over your body until he is face to face with you. “This is what you wanted, baby.” He purrs, “You wanted me… Wanted this.” He hissed, the tip of his cock rubbing over your oversensitive clit causing you to yelp. Changbin chuckled, “Part of the package deal now…” He trails off, talking mostly to himself as he spreads your legs. 

He leans back and looks down at your shaking body, “Fuck… You’re so reactive to me baby…” he praised, biting his lip as he rolled his hips, his cock running up your folds. You shudder, hand flying up to his wrist that was holding your ankle. “Binnie!” You raise your ass up just enough so that the tip of his cock pressed into you. He groaned, “So fucking needy for me… Fuck, I love it.” He purred. 

He didn’t tease you much, he was just as needy for you as you were for him. Maybe just a little bit more so than you. He lets out a low hiss as he settles inside you, your mouth hanging open as your body threatens to rip apart. Your entire body was thrumming with desire as he leisurely dragged his hips back and forth, a hand holding your thigh to the couch and the other holding your ankle by your head. 

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, eyes shutting tightly as an orgasm washed over you. Changbin’s hips stuttered as you shattered around him, splintering into small fragments as you shook. He was panting, not from exertion, but because he was trying desperately not to already cum. 

But the sight of your eyes fluttering and your teeth sinking into your lip made his brain short circuit, temporally forgetting that you were human. He growls huskily, pushing your thigh up so that both your feet are by your ears. You were shocked, a startled gasp leaving your mouth as he slammed into you repeatedly, broken, shaggy moans escaping your lips as he pounded into you relentlessly, chasing his high. He was too far gone now, lost in the feeling of your soaking heat to care about the sounds of your screams, they spurred him on. 

“Fuck!” He shouted, warmth spreading through your womb. He slowed for a few moments, clarity coming to him for a moment to look down at your fucked out expression. He grinned, leisurely rolling his hips into yours. “Awe, so cute. All dumb and brain-dead for me.” He cooed. You opened your mouth but a sharp thrust cut off the words that were about to come out. 

You felt yourself tighten around him, another orgasm threatening to rip through you but to your shock, Changbin pulls out. “Nuh-uh,” he chuckles, “not yet.” He sits on the couch, pulling you on top of him. You brace yourself, putting your hands on his shoulders as grabs your hips, biting his lip. He pulls you in for a passionate kiss, distracting you from what he is doing beneath you. 

He was lining himself up to your center, this time, thrusting up harshly. You gasp, teeth gnashing against Changbin’s as he holds your waist, continuing his assault on your pussy. You shuddered, moaning as he held you to his chest. You squeal as an orgasm tears through you suddenly, his cock stroking your g-spot with expert precision. “Fuck!” You say through the slapping of skin. 

Changbin wasted no time following right behind you, grunting as he came, hips slamming into yours once again as he moaned into your hair. “Fuck!” He growled, panting into the nape of your neck. You thought it was over, but he kept going, orgasm after orgasm ripped through your sensitive body until you were crying. 

Part of you wanted him to stop, but the other was begging him to keep going. You were a babbling mess, on your stomach as Changbin fucked into you from behind. He had his hands on your waist, pressing you into the couch. 

He was sweaty, his sweat dripping down his body as he fucked into you. His hair clung to his forehead, his chain stuck to his neck as he growled above you. You clutch the couch for support as a rough orgasm rips through your body so hard that you almost collapse. 

He still doesn’t stop. 

Changbin puts his hands on either side of your head, long, deep strokes hitting your g-spot making you moan loudly, grunting as he fucked into you. “Fuck- baby.” He moans, picking up the pace. “Take whatever I give you, like a good girl.” He nibbles your shoulder, groaning as he begins to come undone, “Fuck- shit- baby- fuck!” He bellows, throwing his head back, hips finally stilling. 

One last sharp thrust and he was pulling out. He sat back, looking at the mess between your thighs, chuckling at you breathlessly. “Are you ok, baby?” He shook your ass, making you giggle softly, slumping into the couch. He crawled up to where you were, pulling you onto his sweaty chest. “Sorry, I should have just let you go home. You’re going to be so sore-” He begins to apologize, but you put your hand over his mouth. “Shush.” He snorts, hands beginning to massage your body as you start to fall asleep. 

“Don’t fall asleep. We need to shower… And have round two.” 

Thank you so much for reading! ©️straykids-97

Taglist: @artisticbirb @kaitchan @queenmea604 @bangchans-angel

#skz drabbles #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard hours #seo changbin smut #changbin smut

[spiderluvbot]

𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗗𝗟𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧   ─── ​🇪​​🇹​​🇭​​🇦​​🇳​ ​🇱​​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​​🇷​​🇾​.

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, smut.

pairing(s): spiderman!ethan landry x fem!reader.

words: 2.2k

warnings: mdni, unprotected p in v (don't do that), cockwarming, mentions of blood, descriptive wounds.

author's note: based on this request.

it took me a long time to post this since it's the first smut i write and i have no idea if it's good or not but it tried my best, i surprisingly like the first part. i have a sort of prequel in mind so if anyone would like that let me know.

You could still remember the first time you helped Ethan, you had just come back from work when you got welcomed by the sight of your window broken and a trail of blood going down the wall. At the time you hadn't known it was him and expected the worst, after all, new york wasn't the safest of places. That day not only had you given your favorite superhero a concussion, you had also found out he happened to be the boy Tara had been trying to set you up with.

There wasn't much you could do at the time considering that he was passed out and you only had some rubbing alcohol and like three band-aids, but in his moments of lucidness he wouldn't let you take him to a hospital, so you made do with what you had and proceeded to buy a first aid kit the day after, just in case. By the third month of your relationship this had become usual, you spent many nights convincing your boyfriend to come to you so he wouldn't die of blood loss on someone's rooftop (or infect his wounds due to not properly taking care of them). You had even taken a course, making your friends confused as to why you were suddenly worried about knowing everything there was to know about nursing.

Now, a year after finding out his secret, it had become almost a ritual for him to visit you after a night of patrolling. Your window stayed open like every other night, the cool spring breeze coming through as you waited for him and tried not to think about the fact that he was two hours late. Your eyes kept glancing from your homework to the time displayed on your computer screen and you wondered if your little tradition would be broken today.

Dropping your pencil, you sigh and grab your phone. The leg you were mindlessly dangling seconds ago now bouncing rapidly while you questioned if you should call him, finally deciding against it because you know he won't pick up if he's patrolling, that he never takes his phone with him.

Looking outside only makes you more anxious, the sky is too dark and the lights do little to no help in illuminating the streets. Your hand stretches towards the bed and you grab his jacket —the one he complains you keep stealing but always happens to 'forget' in your house— and put it on while you make your way to the fire escape.

The sight isn't much better once you're out, if you look down you can see that the street is almost empty, only a few people wandering about.

It feels like another hour passes with you waiting for him and your fear of what could have happened gets bigger and bigger by the minute, until you feel like it will eat you from the inside.

But no sign of Ethan.

You hear the sound first, and despite your eyes getting teary you tell yourself that it could be anything, anyone, else. A few police cars appear from around the corner, followed closely by two ambulances. The loud sirens make your head pound, and the lights are blurry through your tears. It feels like a bad dream, like one of those nightmares where you're falling and wake up before you hit the ground but the impact still follows you, or like those moments when you miss a step and those few seconds of uncertainty create a void deep in you guts that swallows you hole.

Your steps resonate as you make your way back inside and pick up your phone once again and dial his number, hoping that this time he decided to listen to you and carry his phone with him, or that he picks up and tells you he forgot to visit you because he was too tired and went back home, or that at least Chad is there to tell you if he knows anything.

"You need to start locking your windows." His voice sounds different, less laid back than usual, and the brief calmness that it brings to you immediately dissipates once you turn around.

There are three large gashes on his right shoulder and another one on his chest, you can see the skin on his side turning a purplish black from where a part of his suit has been ripped off and the smell of smoke and something acrid reaches your nose the second the wind picks up again. His face isn't much better, he has a busted lip, one of his cheekbones has a deep cut and the other looks even worse than his side, there's blood staining his hair and you're pretty sure his nose is broken.

He limps to the bed and you silently enter the bathroom to get the supplies you need to help him. At this point, you don't ask what happened, you know if you do you won't get more than a 'you don't wanna know'. He keeps telling you that the less you know the safer you are, and even if you don't agree you don't say anything, the way he doesn't say anything and allows you to take care of him when he would rather go home and not keep you awake at three am every time he's hurt.

Ethan is trying to take the suit off when you come back, the fabric peels off of his body like a second skin and leaves behind dirt and blood. With the top half gone you can see the smell from before came from a burned patch of his back.

The routine follows as usual. He sits against the headboard, firm hands on your hips pull you onto his lap and you asses the damage, soft hands grazing him as lightly as the wind does and stopping once in a while to push his hair out of his face. And then, you get to work.

You take care of the bigger wounds first, thankfully he has already started healing so there is no need to stitch him. You check for broken ribs and after making sure they healed completely you move on to his face. He doesn't let you do much, you disinfect the cuts just like you always do and in the meantime, he dries your tears and sneaks a few kisses from you.

Getting up, you take his hand and pull him back to the bathroom, he takes his time cleaning himself while you get rid of the dirty cotton swabs laying around and change the sheets, and then when he gets out you both get into some clean pajamas before you make him sit again so you can put some pain reliever on his back.

He looks pensive, his eyes focused on the calm back and forth of the curtains as his back tenses at the cold wet feeling against his skin.

"You really do need to start locking your windows."

"Oh, but then I wouldn't get any special visits from my favorite superhero."

Your voices are quiet, only heard in the tiny bubble of the space you share as you try to lighten the mood.

"I'm your favorite?" He grins, starting to feel the stress of the night leave him. "You know, you don't have to do this, it'll heal in the morning."

"I know," You step in between his legs and start applying the cream to his side, which is already turning a mix between yellow and green. "But I like to help."

You turn the lights off once you're done and join him in the bed where both of you get ready to sleep. He pulls you to his chest and your eyes focus on the scar already starting to form there, his deep breaths lulling you to sleep as your finger traces small hearts around it.

You're almost asleep when the sensation of cold fingers caressing your waist sends shivers running down your spine, almost feeling like a ghost touch in your tired state. Your heavy eyelids stop you from properly looking at the hand, but you can feel it rising, slowly making its way under your top. Your lips start leaving a few lazy kisses on his jaw as he turns to lie on top of you and gets comfortable between your legs, his body weighing you down and his lips chasing yours, only separating for him to take your shirt off.

His hands grope your chest as he makes his way down, the contrast between the cold wind and the warmth of his mouth wrapping around your nipple sends shivers down your spine as his fingers pinch the other one. You can feel him getting hard against your inner thigh, his hips starting to move while his free hand toys with the elastic of your pants, teasing until your desperate hips lift from the bed to meet his and the sighs leaving you turn into whimpers.

"I've never been more grateful for super healing" You roll your eyes and let out a small giggle as he smiles before crashing his lips against yours, his mouth catching the moan that leaves you when his hand goes past your pants. His fingers tease your folds, caressing through the wet fabric of your underwear while he mouths at your throat, sucking and grazing before the flat of his tongue soothes the sensitive skin. Your knuckles turn white as you grasp the sheets and press yourself harder to him in a poor attempt to gain more friction.

Ethan decides to have mercy on you and quickly removes the rest of your clothes, his own following immediately after. Your hands push on his chest, forcing the two of you to switch places, and his fingers dig into your waist forcing you to grind your core against him.

His big brown eyes are hazed with lust, barely making you out through the dark and only focusing once you hold his face in your hands and offer him a sweet smile, catching the way you seem to shine with the moonlight. You lean down and kiss him hard, teeth clashing until you bite his lip and he welcomes your tongue as it explores his mouth.

Your hand travels down his chest and you can feel him shudder as you stroke him, his hips twitching forward once run your thumb over his tip. He stops your hand from moving, groaning as he sits and pulls you closer, guiding himself to enter you. The burn of the stretch makes you moan against his ear and his arms surround you as he waits for you to get used to him and presses open-mouthed kisses on your throat to distract you.

Slowly, you start grinding your hips against him, and the light vibration of his hums against your skin makes you clench his length. Your arms loop around his neck, the side of your head pressing to the top of his own, your hands caressing his hair while he continues to leave marks on your neck.

It's not long before his grip gets stronger, nails digging into you as he quickens the pace of your hips rolling against his, thrusting upwards and bitting down your shoulder in a poor attempt to quiet the desperate groans leaving his mouth. Your head falls back as a high-pitched gasp leaves your mouth at the feeling of his thumb circling your clit at a fast pace, the knot in your stomach getting tighter by the second.

Ethan looks up at you and the moonlight allows you to see how his dilated warm brow eyes stare timidly at you, always worried and shy, no matter how many times the two of you have been together. He tries not to close his eyes as he becomes a whimpering mess underneath you, pulling you closer to him until he can press his forehead against yours, a loud moan getting lost in the space in between as he finally comes.

You can feel him twitch inside of you, the warmth of his cum mixed with his thumb pressing harder finally pushing you over the edge. He softly rolls your hips as you ride out your orgasms, his ragged breaths mixing with your own as he shuts his eyes, chest heaving as he places the pillows against the headboard and lies down. You stop him from pulling out and lazily lay down on his chest, leaving small kisses wherever you can reach.

His hands travel back and forth through your back, stopping once in a while to comb his fingers through your hair. He leaves soft kisses on the crown of your head, smiling at how you try to muffle your laughs by pressing your face to his chest.

"I love you."

The slight sliver of sunshine creates a small halo around your head as you lift yourself to look at him and your small, tender hands hold his jaw while your fingers roam his face, grazing the places where hours ago cuts and bruises faced you.

You give him a small, tired smile and lean down, planting a kiss on his lips. "I love you too."

The two of you spend the rest of the morning in bed, watching the sun rise as you whisper sweet nothings in each other's ears, and then falling asleep as the rest of the city wakes up.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry x you #spiderman!ethan landry #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream vi #spiderman au #💌 #ethan.txt