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chubbyreaderchan · 1 year

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Crying in the Sand | Poly! Lost Boys x plus sized!Reader

Summary: The Lost Boy’s mate has some old “friends” come to town. She wants to spend time with them without her boys but they end up destroying her self-esteem instead. The boys will not let them get away with it.

Warnings: Sexual innuendos but no real sex scenes, cursing, blood, violence, fighting, body shaming, self-hatred, anxiety, shirtless men for some reason, nudity, strong language, bullying, adult bullying, reader is larger in clothes size than the boys but they don’t care, Marko being let loose. Everyone in the coven is dating everyone else. No Michael or Star or Laddie :(

David’s arm wrapped around her plush hip, pressing her into his side gently. The boys were acting rowdy as they walked the boardwalk, minus Dwayne who was loyally carrying her bags despite her protests. She had been holding off the entire night to tell them she wasn’t going to be hanging out with them the next night. They had a hard time allowing their mate to go anywhere without them, but she made them promise to allow her to have other friends. Which was hard to do as an adult who surrounds herself with scary biker boys with pretty hair.

But old friends were good. They didn’t know her boys, they had no idea they existed since they were coming to California for vacation from her hometown. They were only passing through the next night and then they were off to try to get to Hollywood and Disneyland for the rest of their trip. She was sure she was a fleeting thought in their minds. They hadn’t contacted her since graduation and she mostly forgot about them until they got her phone number from her family.

“You alright?” Dwayne said.

His voice was low, and had the depth of dark chocolate and the warmth of his leather jacket on a cold night like tonight. His knuckle brushed over her plush cheek, a forest fire against her cheek despite his deathly cold. David’s fingers dug into her side and the leader looked at Dwayne, mildly annoyed he noticed her thoughts before he did.

“What’s wrong, princess?”

She took a deep breath. Now or never.

“My friends from high school called me last night. I guess they are flying into Santa Carla because the tickets were cheap,” she said.

(Y/n) leaned into David a bit more, as if seeking physical support from him. He was the leader and protector, she thrived off of that. She liked feeling his protection and listening to his opinions.

“They want to hang out. Go to some beach. Something less popular than--”

She motions around them at the crowds and lights.

“They only have a day to stretch their legs and they want to hit up the beach before they go to Disney,”

“Are you wanting to introduce us?” David asked.

(Y/n) bit the inside of her cheek, thoughtful. That was something she hadn’t decided on yet. There were a few snakes in her old friend group and she did not want to share her boys with them. They had snatched so many crushes from her in the past, or even helped boys prank her with false dates.

“No,” she was firm. “They are from a small town. They wouldn’t get it… or us,”

David gave her a look, it was cold and distant. A tinge of jalousy seemed to sully the air. Dwayne’s hand joined David’s on her body. His hand pressed against the blonde leader it was intimate and comforting for both (Y/n) and David.

“She should be able to see her friends without us,” Dwayne said gently.

They could aways watch from a distance.

Leave it to Paul to ruin the comfortable gazes between the two boys. His lanky arms wrapped around their human mate in a near breath stealing grasp. He nipped at her neck and she giggled at the ticklish sensation.

“What? Don’t want your high school buddies to be jealous?” Paul purred.

Marko was in front of her in an instant, keeping a steady pace walking backwards to look at her features. Her soft stomach was his favorite and he often encouraged her to show it off, but it was hidden tonight. With a final leer he grinned his devilish smile that made (Y/n) melt and give into practically anything he wanted.

“Maybe she doesn’t want them to know how kinky our lady is,” Marko smile never wavered.

His fists pulled at the opening of his jacket, tongue lapping out at his lips.

“Not that they’d ever find out, amore,”

Never in her life had she had so many boys pinning and loving her like they did. She felt wanted and taken care of all at the same time with the four wild vampires.

“If we aren’t going to see you much tomorrow then we should go back to the cave,” David mused.

The vampire swiftly tugged the cigarette from behind his ear, pressing it between his lips before lighting it. The hot burn of cigarette smoke filled the air even with his efforts to puff the smoke away from the fragile human he was so annamoured with.

“Why’s that?” she asked.

“We need to scent you,”

“Scent me?”

He hummed, his own devilish grin tugged at his lips. It wasn’t fair how handsome he was. It took everything in (Y/n)’s body to run her fingers through his course facial hair.

“Can’t have any others trying to touch what is ours,”

His face was close to her’s now. David’s scent of tobacco, mint, and metal washed over her face. He leans in close and almost purrs his next words.

“And kitten, you can touch my beard all you want…. But I think it might feel better against your thighs,”

Her face heated and her thighs rubbed together at the insinuation. The sharp ears of the others caught every word and like a pack of hyenas they howled with laughter.

“I would punch you if you weren’t so pretty,” she said,

She crossed her arms over her chest like a child. David couldn’t help but laugh, knowing very well her threats meant nothing. His soft lips pressed against her’s in a chaste kiss.

The day started with her friends arriving at her apartment. No, scratch that. One friend who was one of the snakes, and two girls who used to bully her relentlessly arrived on her front porch. She knew the snake friend was coming but apparently (Y/n) had assumed that she was still friends with the others she used to be around.

“You look…” the snake, known as Allison grimced visibly. “Like you!”

Ouch. That one hurt. She could feel herself folding in already and the day with them had hardly started. Ashley the blonde resident mean rich girl in the town hugged (Y/n) like she had a disease and only did so out of politeness. The third was a dark haired girl who always seemed to be a package deal with Ashley. Bridget… thought (Y/n) had often called her an “idiot” in her head.

“Hi, uh…” she smiled fakely and followed Ashley into the apartment.

“Once we get relaxed a smidge,” Ashley said. “We should go to lunch. Didn’t you mom say you work on a boardwalk?”

“I thought you didn’t want to hit the boardwalk?” (Y/n) asked.

“Oh, we don’t want to hit the boardwalk at night. Too crowded and… too dangerous,” she cringed.

The plump girl wanted to roll her eyes, but she was right. The boardwalk plus peak summer season plus night and minus her boys could be a one way ticket to robbery… or worse. Though the “or worse” were her boys. She’d always be safe on the boardwalk.

“Oh, sweetie, You aren’t going to wear that to lunch are you?” Allison asked. “It’s a bit tight don’t you think?”

(Y/n) looked at the shirt that hugged her body quite tight, a faded Rolling Stones t-shirt. Yes it was a bit small, fitting a bit like a crop top and she did snip part of the neckline to fit a bit better but it was Paul’s shirt. He gave it to her. From his own clothes.

“Here sugar,” the wild blonde grinned, tossing the t-shirt at her bare body.

The boys were out feeding that night and Paul had practically destroyed her mind with incredible sex and just his overall vibe. They never liked her to be alone in the cave if they could help it.

“Paul, how high are you?”

“No, babe, it’s hi how are you,” he grinned jumping into her nest and kissing her jaw.

“No, Paulie. Baby… I’m gonna stretch it out,”

“And?”

“Don’t you like this shirt?”

“It’s my favorite,” he grinned.

His lips continued to kiss her neck.

“I’ll ruin it. Stretch it,”

“Well, call it payback, sugar,” He sucked on her neck.

Her mind was getting fuzzy again. “For what?”

“For you letting me stretch your pussy out,”

The memory normally made her laugh but her fingers were now tangled at the hem of the shirt. Stress was filling her mind.

“Yeah, I can change,” she said softly. “Just make yourselves at home,”

It wasn’t long and she came out to the three girls giggling. It was like they never left high school. They looked up at her and Bridget laughs again.

“Are you done?” (Y/n) asked. “Would you like to see the boardwalk or not?”

“Of course, you look so cute. We’re gonna take my car. It’s bigger,” Ashley grinned. “A rental,”

It took a lot to not gag at the fakeness in her voice. (Y/n) threw her bag over her shoulder, tracing the patch Marko had stitched into it as she walked to the car.

“Bridgy,” Ashley smiled. “Let (Y/n) sit up front. She is hosting us after all,”

Bridget climbs into the back and (Y/n) sits in the front telling her in detail the best ways to get the pier. She couldn’t remember the last time she was her in the day time, it was still lively but it was just a different feeling.

It felt more family friendly and not one wrong move from being either a rave or a brawl. No David holding her hip or Marko pinching her sides. No Paul wanting to sneak her off into one of the changing booths or even a Dwayne making sure she actually eats something that was sugar dipped in more sugar. It was a familiar loneliness she had hanging over her she had most of her teenage year as the three women linked arms and (Y/n) fell behind them. She was never lonely or felt as if she wasn’t wanted with her boys.

Hell, if they didn’t want her around they would’ve eaten her by now… and not in the fun way.

“Where should we eat?” Allison called over her shoulder. “What’s good?”

“There’s a 24 hour diner near the Di--,”

“What, no,” Ashley said.

The preppy blonde was aghast at the mention of a diner. She rolled her eyes and reached into her beach bag. A pamphlet of the local attractions and restaurants she must’ve gotten at a rest stop at some point.

“Oh, we should go to the seafood place,” Ashley grinned.

(Y/n) cringed at the thought. The boys had told her many sketchy things about the owner and management. It was not a great choice but a water and a side salad would hold over until she could get a corn dog from her favorite booth. Maybe.

The best part of the restaurant was definitely the air conditioning. It felt nice against her skin, she even tugged her well loved jacket from her shoulders. Another gift she had an argument over when David gave it to her. It was older, but with Marko’s sewing skills and patches from all of them it was transformed into hers, though the arms were a bit tight and it didn’t zip properly but it fit the best out of all the boy’s clothes and she adored it. Marko promised to make it fit better but she wasn’t sure she wanted it. It was like a constant hug from David, it even smelled like him. But even a punk can get sweaty in a jacket on the beach.

---

“Why did you let us eat there?” Ashley whined as they walked down the boardwalk.

“You wouldn’t listen if I told you,” (Y/n) replied.

“Wait where are you going?” Bridget copied the whine of the other girl.

It made her want to jam a plastic fork into her ear. Somehow she managed to get in line at the good corndog place, as suggested by Marko.

“I thought you were dieting. You know cuz the jacket was so tight and the salad,” Bridget accused.

She shook her head and bit her lip. Her hand went into her pocket fidgeting with the coins inside. This was going to be a long day and it had barely started. She could’ve been in bed this whole time. Hell, she could’ve been in her nest the entire time, with her boys. Hell, she’d even hang out with Max at this point. At least he wasn’t an open asshole like these girls were.

(Y/n) bit into the fried treat and sighed in contentment.

---

“Are you sure this beach is private enough?” Allison called.

Then she giggled and whispered. The sun was starting to set and the girls wanted to abandon the boardwalk quickly. (Y/n)’s mind ached from being around the three girls and she was practically counting down the hours until she could go back to her boys. By the time they were on the beach she knew of, the sun was down and it was quite dark.

“Of course, I come here all the time,” she said. “Nothing for miles,”

Other than a cave.

“Oh good,” Allison giggled.

She tore off her top and began stripping in the dark. (Y/n) watched in shock. The darkness of the beach wasn’t enough to conciel the girls stripping down to their birthday suits.

“Come on, (Y/n). We did this all the time back home. It’s why we wanted to come here at night,” she giggled. “Join us,”

The grin on Allison’s lips would have mimicked Markos. This would have been a Marko or Paul idea but something felt off about this. The instinct to pull in and run as fast as she could was buzzing in her brain harder than the first time she saw a vampire feed. But just like then she pushed it away, the wild side that was primmed and built by the coven of vampires was screaming to just do it.

A sharp swallow felt like it cut down her entire body. She pulled her jacket off then her top and the rest of her clothes. The girls were huddled and giggling, bile made it’s way up her throat. Bitter and painful as the rest ran into the water. Even at her age, peer pressure seemed to be winning her over as she went into the dark waters. Her heard was racing as the cold touched her hot skin. It cooled over the places where the sun had touched, she sighed again in contentment. The fear was washed away from her body with each crash of the wave.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she enjoyed the sounds of the night. Quiet and still, with the occasional sound of wildlife that lived in the area. Quiet never happened with all the boys. Quiet could only be obtained with Dwayne or David. All four was shouting and calling and flirting and--.

Giggles.

(Y/n)’s eyes shot open. It was too dark to see anyone. She spun in a circle, hoping to see anyone. Anything. Gone. They left her. She swallowed hard, and fought back the tears of frustration and memories. This wasn’t the first time Allison played this prank. Leaving her in the middle of nowhere. But it was fine. She would just pull on her clothes and just go to the cave or the boardwalk and find her boys.

She stepped onto the sand, careful not to step on a scuttering crab before heading to her clothes which---

They weren’t there. Her jacket. Her shirt. Even her swimsuit and bag were gone, hot tears filled her eyes arms wrapping around her bare body as she fell into the sand with a thud. Her breathing was hard and ragged. The bullying through the day seemed to have built up to this moment. It was as if time hadn’t moved since she was 16 and trying to blend in only to stand out more. She coughed out a sob. She hardly registered the rumbling of motors coming down the beach.

---

“This is lame,” Marko said.

He chewed at the glove on his left hand anxiously. The group of boys seemed dull. David was simply browsing the night’s produce, deciding which bodies could fill their bellies and the boredom without their mate to complete their family.

No one peaked his curiosity. Hell, he wasn’t even that hungry, at least not that kind of hunger. David could practically still taste her on his tongue and her smell still lingered on the boardwalk. It was hours old but he knew her scent so well that it could’ve been just a few seconds ago.

He was growing irritated. Like a caged jaguar. He wanted to rip into something, but had no one good enough. Nothing caught his interest other than a back and fourth look over the crowd.

“Maybe (Y/n)’s friends left,” Paul said, hopeful.

“If that’s the case she’d come to us,” Dwayne said, leaning back a bit on his bike.

He stretched and grunted slight before leaning forward again on the handles. Dwayne didn’t need to stretch but it was an old human habit, like breathing. But he was disappointed when he remember that their little mate wasn’t their to ogle at his muscles beneath his skin.

“Let’s go,” David flicked his cigarette carelessly. “No one looks worth it tonight,”

They kicked off their bikes and onto the beach they drove. Taking the long sandy way home in the hopes of finding some form of entertainment. The pack were wooping and hollering but it didn’t feel as good as when it was filled with giggles. A piece of their coven was missing. David hated and loved how much she meant to the dynamic of their family.

David inhales, sand brushed against his nostrils but that wasn’t the scent that bothered his nose. Tears. Fear.

Her.

Something was wrong, and David tried not to allow his true face out. He slowed his bike and the boys followed. Marko was next to him sniffing the air, he liked the smell of tears but not like this. They could see her curled in on her self crying.

Naked. And crying.

Leather enveloped her shoulders and she looked up to see Dwayne. He smiled at her sadly, kneeling to her level.

He brushed a rough thumb under her eyes, wiping a tear off her cheek.

“What the fuck happened, amore,” Marko was in front of her, hands gripping into fists.

Pacing and cursing in Italian. David looked just as pissed and she didn’t see paul. Not until he threw the shirt he had on at her playfully.

“Paul,” She whimpered.

“Don’t even start, sugar. Just put it on,”

His voice lacked any warmth. No happy go lucky Paul, but a serious man with anger in his voice. A black Led Zepplin shirt that smelled of him and weed. It stretched over her body, but it wasn’t enough to cover her bottom half. She moved Dwayne’s jacket to covers up but she was still very bare. But she did feel a bit better with her boys surrounding her.

“What the hell happened,” David mimicked Marko’s question.

His movements were so quiet she jumped when she turned to see him crouched infront of her, leather hands on her knees.

“They convinced me to swim… without,” she sniffed. “Then took my clothes and left… I just want my jacket and bag back,”

David pulled his large over coat off and placed it on her as well.

“Don’t worry kitten, we’ll take care of it,” David said.

His gloved hand

“I’ll take her back to the cave,” Dwayne said.

He didn’t even hesitate. He lifted (Y/n) as if she weighed nothing, wrapping her tightly to keep her modest, not that anyone would see a thing or even look while in his arms.

“I don’t,”

“Don’t worry mama,” he soothed. “We’re flying. I’ll get my bike when you are in your nest,”

Paul, Marko, and David were off. Following the scent of fake cucumber and soon to be dead bitches. Marko was the first to spot them, his eyes were especially sharp when he was pissed off and hungry. They didn’t care about safety or stopping, they tailgated them until the women finally pulled off. Clearly, they weren’t very smart. David’s bike barely stopped when he hopped off. Rage was fueling him, and his eyes were yellow. His hunger had suddenly returned.

“What the hell--,” the blonde yelled.

“Where the fuck is her stuff,”

The woman in pink finally looked into David’s face. She stammered. Marko had already ripped the door of the passengerside causing the women to scream. Paul smashed the back window, seeing (Y/n)’s clothes and bag.

The brunette screamed again as Marko tugged her from her seat. He held her so tight her arm snapped under the force and she screamed again. Marko’s long tongue flicked out before he took a rough bite.

They would be another set of missing people.

“Good thing you leave so much here,” Dwayne teased, running his hands over her thigh. It was a pair of sweat pants she had forgotten ages ago but she was grateful for them. She didn’t want to steal another item of their clothes.

“Though I still think you’d be cuter in my boxers,”

They were laying in her next again, right under where the boys would sleep. It was safest to them and they liked having her there, since she would be joining them on the ceiling someday. Dwayne leaned forward, kissing another stray tear. He had already left and retrieved his bike, and now he could be comfortable with her. His jacket was still over her shoulders and she was hugging David’s like a security blanket.

Tears still crept from her eyes, but he could tell she was feeling better.

His fingers traced over the waist band of her hips and he kissed another stray tear away. He kissed down her cheek all the way to her lips. Dwayne smiled when she returned the kiss, moving so she could touch his body. The cave rumbled and the other vampires came in wildly. The curtains moved and the first boy rushed in, bag on his shoulder and a grin on his face.

“Sorry, Dwayne. There wasn’t enough bitch for all of us,” Paul said patting his shoulder.

Happy Paul was back but his face and hands were coated in blood. He placed her things beside her bed and he leaned in to kiss her but Dwayne put a hand against his other lover’s chest.

“Clean first, then kiss her.”

“Yeah yeah, human blood disease,” Paul hissed.

Marko rushed in next. Wild eyed and looking like he could go for another fight. But he was clean, or at least his skin was. His shirt was stained and ripped apart but his jacket was a beautiful as alway.

His eyes flickered around and landed on his girl. Puffy eyed, but smiling at him.

“Feeling better, Venus?” He teased.

She nodded.

He shrugged his jacket off, then shoes, then his shirt before climbing in behind her. His arms snaked around her middle, squeezing at the doughy flesh of her belly just right.

“Stop! That tickles,” She giggled trying to pull away from him.

“Amore, how can I stop when you are just so irresistible,”

Dwayne rolled his eyes at the antics. “Marko,” He was stern.

Marko paused his tickling and rolled his eyes before just hugging his hurting mate from behind. He kissed her neck and nipped at the skin softly.

“Don’t worry, my Venus,” he whispered. “Those girls wont ever hurt you again,”

His breath is cool against her skin and she can’t help but to hum. She leaned against Marko and he allowed her enjoying her against his chest.

The curtains pulled back again, David was now also shirtless his hair damp and gel-less. It was slightly messy without product and (Y/n) loved it very much. His lips curl into a smug smile.

“I’m glad you like my jacket, kitten but I think I’d be a better replacement,”

He crawled into the nest as well. He sat between Dwayne and (Y/n) taking the jacket from her hands before pulling her from Marko’s grip. She layed against his soft chest and he purred as her fingers danced over his soft belly before gently playing with his chest hair. Marko found himself back behind her, hugging for dear life. His fingers tapped against her middle.

They all seemed to be buzzing with energy.

“What the fuck? Why are you guys hogging the babe!”

Paul launched himself into the pile of lovers wedging himself between the tangled legs of (Y/n) and David. Dwayne rolled his eyes before scooting into David’s other side, placing a hand on the exposed midriff of his princess.

“I don’t think I want friends anymore,” she hummed. “You guys are like friends and boyfriends wrapped in one,”

“You should still have friends,” Dwayne said gently. “I bet you’d like Gloria,”

“No, I think i’m content,”

“Whatever you want kitten,” David said. “That’s what you’ll get,”

His fingers traced over any skin or into any hair that he could. They went down to her jaw and gently lifted her chin. He pressed a kiss against her lips.

“I want to kiss her,” Paul huffed, pushing up against David’s stomach to climb to her face.

David grunted in annoyance but held his tongue from shouting at the vamponeside golden retriever. He just watched as he sloppily devoured her lips.

She was never going to be alone like that again. He wouldn’t allow it.

#tlb #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys x reader #tlb x reader #tlb x y/n #tlb x you #marko x reader #david x reader #paul x reader #dwayne x reader #the lost boys headcanon #poly!lost boys x reader #plus size reader #fat reader #fat inclusive #tlb David x reader #tlb marko x reader #tlb dwayne x reader #tlb paul x reader

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ginnsbaker · 9 months

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In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (15/22)

Chapter summary: You make a decision about Vision, the video, and your lingering feelings for your ex-wife

Chapter word count: 6.6K | Warnings: None | Ship: Wanda x Reader, Yelena x Reader

Author's note: If you decide to yell at me after this chapter, I guess this is a good time to tell you that I'm smol.

AO3 | Masterlist

Next chapter: Sixteen

Fifteen

Two sinners can't atone from a lone prayer - David Kushner "Daylight"

"Will you let me know once you figure out what you'll do?" Wanda asks, her voice wavering as remnants of dried tears cling to her cheeks, leaving faint trails in their wake.

You respond with a subdued sound of agreement, but deep down, you harbor doubts about your ability to follow through on your promise. The thumb drive still burns in your palm, and your clenched fist refuses to release it.

Alone in your apartment, hours after Yelena has departed for work, you find yourself replaying this memory time and again. Having taken the week off, your days are largely spent fixated on a particular file on your computer screen. That’s the last time you’ve heard from Wanda. Neither of you has made any effort to reach out since then.

“He recorded us having… having the affair.”

Your face involuntarily twists into a grimace of raw pain. Each breath feels heavier than the last, like you're dragging them from a place deep within you that you've been desperately trying to avoid. Your gaze remains fixated on the screen, eyes glassy, as if staring longer could somehow give you the answers you so crave.

A small, dark corner of your heart wishes you had gone further than just cracking Vision's skull with that vase, now knowing that he did more than violate a marriage.

You hover your mouse over the file.

"I’d take it all back if I could.”

Blinking rapidly, the strain in your smile grows more palpable, etching lines of tension across your face, until you’re gritting your teeth in an effort to maintain some form of control over your emotions.

But in the end, the tears well up and they spill over.

In the end, you can’t bring yourself to watch how Wanda chose to break your heart.

You delete the file from your computer, erasing any trace of the painful reminder. As you empty the trash bin, it feels like a symbolic act of letting go, even though the ache in your heart remains.

***

“Wanda? Did you hear what I just said?”

Wanda blinks, appearing slightly disoriented, as if she had been drifting away, coming back and forth to the present like a restless ghost. Calliope regards Wanda with a gentle caution, noticing that she appears different from her usual self this morning. There is a noticeable absence of her usual active engagement in conversation, with Wanda providing only succinct and dismissive replies to her questions.

“Hm?” Wanda's gaze focuses on Calliope, a flicker of apology crossing her features as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, could you repeat that? I... got distracted.”

“Wanda, I was asking about how you spent Y/N's birthday last week,” Calliope repeats with a soft smile.

Your birthday. It had been one of the best days in recent memory, a rarity considering the limited number of such occasions. And unfortunately, the joyous feeling it brought her was short-lived, lasting only two days before Yelena shattered the blissful bubble she was in.

"I, uh, baked her a cake, but it was more for my own enjoyment and for my customers,"

Wanda shares, and though her expression becomes slightly dreamy, it’s still tinged with despondency. “And then in the evening, we ran into each other by chance, and she treated me to dinner. All in all, it was better than I imagined."

“That sounds wonderful, Wanda,” Calliope says. "But how come you don't seem as happy about it now?"

“A lot has happened between then and now,” Wanda explains. “Her birthday isn’t the last time we saw each other. It’s actually just three days ago, and we, uh, didn’t exactly end that meeting on a good note.”

The only indication that Calliope looks slightly concerned is the eleven that appears in between her brows. Otherwise, her face remains soft and void of tension. “Can you tell me more, Wanda? But of course, only if you’re comfortable to share them.”

Wanda takes a moment to weigh her options. On one hand, there is legal information that she would need to disclose, but on the other hand, she can sense the possibility of her spiraling down if she keeps these things to herself. Ultimately, she decides to place her trust in her therapist and rely on the foundation they have built together, telling Calliope everything. She begins by recounting Yelena's visit and the subsequent confrontation with Vision. Then, with regret she describes the following morning when she visited you to give you an option to fight Vision back another way.

Calliope listens attentively, and though she usually maintains a professional demeanor throughout these sessions with her clients, she couldn’t help but inwardly sigh in relief that Wanda chose to talk to her about the crucial week she’s had.

There are at least a dozen emotional and mental implications for someone who had gone through what Wanda did in the recent days. As someone who lives and breathes science, Calliope doesn’t believe in good or bad luck, but this is one of those rare occurrences that she’s handling someone who’s gone and continues to go through a multitude of life-changing storms in just a year. Wanda's resilience is a force to be reckoned with, refusing to bow to the hardships she constantly faces.

“It must be beyond overwhelming to be confronted with such things at the same time,” Calliope says. She retrieves a pad and a pen from her desk and looks up at Wanda. “Do you mind if I write some of these things down? So we can go over them one step at a time?”

Wanda gives her a short nod, placing her complete trust on her therapist. Calliope proceeds to write on the pad and then suddenly, she stops and looks up at Wanda who’s chewing on her lip.

“When you learned that Vision filmed your trysts without your consent, how did that make you feel?”

Wanda feels the familiar coil of anger tighten in her stomach at the mere mention of his name.

Her response slips out slowly. “Violated. I–I know I’m half of that affair, and I have no right to feel like a victim–”

“Wanda,” Calliope quickly cuts her line of thought, dispelling right away the notion that just because she agreed to something, she agreed to everything. Even though the sex was consensual, the act of recording it without consent was a violation of trust and not to mention, a breach of the law.

“Your role in the affair does not negate the fact that you can still feel violated by this type of invasion to your privacy. You have the right to acknowledge your own feelings and experiences, separate from the affair itself." Calliope tells her.

Wanda presses her fingertips against her temple for a few seconds. “I feel like a victim to my own stupid decisions. I’m angry at Vision, but mostly I–I’m angry with myself.”

“Blaming yourself may be a natural response, but the responsibility for the violation lies with Vision. It's not a reflection of your worth or intelligence. You trusted him that time, and he betrayed that trust.” Calliope says.

Wanda is silent. It’s been a long time since she felt like none of Calliope’s words make sense. None could make her feel better at the moment.

Sensing that she’s not getting through to her, Calliope continues, “You don’t have to believe me right now. All of it is new, and you can take as much time as you need to face your feelings.”

"You know what else troubles me the most? I find it very difficult to reconcile myself with the married woman who slept with a kid all those times. Who is she, Calliope? And by asking this, I'm not trying to absolve myself of responsibility because she was me, but I simply can't comprehend how I allowed it to happen. If you were to ask me now why I entered into that affair, I honestly wouldn't have an answer for you.”

Calliope nods in understanding. It's not unusual for individuals to struggle with recognizing the person they used to be, even if it was just a year ago or even a week ago. Personal growth and experiences can drastically change people’s perspectives and actions, often leading them to question their past choices.

“We are always changing. You're a different person today than you were yesterday, even if the change isn’t that significant. There’s always something in us that’s changing, progressing, growing.”

“Why couldn’t I have grown back then,” Wanda mumbles in regret. I should’ve been able to prevent it. Things would have gone differently.

Calliope smiles, understanding Wanda's inclination to obsess over what could have been. “We only realize what's wrong within us when the signs become apparent, like having a fever. A doctor wouldn't say you're sick with a fever alone; it's just a symptom. There's an underlying cause. But the fever serves as an important indicator that your body needs treatment.”

Wanda sighs; she can’t think of any argument to that. “Maybe you’re right.”

And as she replays the memories of that day in her mind, a sudden realization strikes Wanda. There was a vivid detail from her conversation with Yelena that she had almost forgotten.

“Yelena said something,” Wanda begins, her fingers idly toying with the wedding band now adorning her necklace. “Something about Y/N not being completely hers.”

“Go on,” Calliope encourages.

“Do you think she was indirectly telling me that Y/N still has feelings for me?” Wanda's voice is tinged with uncertainty, yet her eyes shimmer with hope.

“Interpreting someone else's words can be subjective," Calliope says. “I want to be honest with you, Wanda–it’s always best not to read too much into it. Yelena's perception of the situation differs from your own, and her words might not necessarily reflect the true feelings or intentions of Y/N.”

Wanda's hopeful expression wavers slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering across her face. She nods, understanding the need to approach the situation with caution.

“I know it's easier said than done. Believe me, I struggle with it too, sometimes…” Calliope trails off as if reminiscing her own experiences, before continuing, “But whether or not Y/N still has feelings for you, your well-being should remain a priority. Overthinking and making assumptions can be detrimental to our happiness.”

Happiness. It’s elusive, and she wants nothing more than to hold onto it longer than a fleeting moment.

***

“Are you certain about this? Once we send this letter to his attorney, it cannot be retracted,” your lawyer states as she neatly organizes the pages of the counter demand letter into a folder.

“And if they agree to the terms, will it finally be over?” you inquire, seeking reassurance.

“Yes. I have drafted every clause to safeguard you from any future legal actions regarding the same matter,” she assures.

You take a moment to process the information before a new concern arises. “You mean, he won't be able to sue me in the future if he decides that $800,000 isn't enough?”

“No,” she says with a confident smirk. “If he does that you can sue him for double the amount.”

“That’s quite impressive.”

“It's what you hired me for,” she replies with a hint of pride.

After your lawyer leaves, you pick up your phone and dial Natasha's number. The ringing persists until a recorded voice message greets you.

“Hey, Nat? It’s me. Uh, when you get this call can you please call me back? I–” Your voice breaks, and you close your eyes, envisioning Natasha's stoic expression as she listens to your message. This silence between you is uncharacteristic, as you have never gone this long without talking to each other except when she's working. It pains you to realize the strain in one of the most important relationships in your life right now.

“I’m sorry, okay? I hope we can talk soon and I’ll explain everything. Please, Nat,” you say. “I don’t think I can handle losing you.”

***

“It’s a send off party for those who are racing the New York City Marathon this year.” you explain to Yelena as you stuff your socks into a duffel bag.

Since joining Valkyrie's running club, you have mainly trained alone, only joining the group for runs on two occasions. However, you've come to realize the benefits of running with others who are faster than you. It pushes you to increase your pace during tempo runs and has led to a faster rate of improvement in your performance. Wanda has chosen not to join the weekday runs with the club, and you secretly appreciate the opportunity to focus solely on running and enjoying the company of other people. Wanda never fails to catch at least some of your attention. It’s one of your more serious flaws.

“Yeah, I get that it's a party,” Yelena mutters, gathering toiletries from the bathroom to pack in her own bag. “What I don't understand is why the party is being held at a park.”

“You know athletes–we need some form of activity first before we drink the booze and eat the cake.” you say.

Yelena wrinkles her nose. That doesn’t sound like the parties she’s familiar with and knows how to enjoy.

“When’s the NYC Marathon anyway?” Yelena asks.

“It’s this Sunday,” you reply, organizing the items on your packing list. You realize that among all the things you need to bring, a pair of shoes and sunblock are the only essentials. The rest are optional.

“Are you running in it?”

“Nope. I wasn’t picked in the lottery.” you say.

Yelena's expression shifts to one of surprise. "There’s a lottery?" she exclaims, clearly unaware of the selection process. The idea of so many people willingly participating–and paying–to tire themselves out is baffling to her. Yelena tried jogging one time and only thought of it as a grueling experience. So this interesting trivia about marathons just leads her to the conclusion that people must truly have a fondness for pain and suffering.

That causes a laugh to bubble up your throat. "If you don't feel like coming, it's completely fine."

Initially, you hadn't planned for Yelena to join you, but since she expressed a desire to spend the day with you on her day off, you casually suggested she could come as your plus one. And since you knew how she felt about the sport that you do, you assumed she’d turn you down.

“How about we just stay in?” Yelena mumbles, wriggling her eyebrows in suggestion, making you laugh harder. “You know… Netflix, and the other thing.”

“As tempting as that sounds,” you reply, still chuckling, “I can't. I'm responsible for bringing a damn good apple pie for the potluck. People are expecting it.”

Yelena pouts playfully, feigning disappointment. “Well, I guess I'll have to settle for cheering you on then. Just make sure that apple pie is worth it.”

“I'll do my best. And hey, there's always Netflix and 'the other thing' waiting for us when we get back.” you say.

Yelena grins, satisfied with the compromise. “Deal.”

***

As you and Yelena arrive at The Great Lawn in Central Park, the sight of tables and chairs being set up in preparation for the event greets you. Shaun, the closest friend you made from the running group, approaches you, dressed in a similar fashion of running shorts over a base layer, dri-fit shirt and the latest Alphafly. Introductions are made, and Shaun takes the dessert from your hands, ushering you and Yelena to a table near the spread of food and drinks.

Yelena makes a quick remark about feeling a bit overdressed for the occasion, but you dismiss her concerns with a smile, complimenting her appearance, which prompts her to lean in and give you a long, tender kiss.

A kiss that your ex-wife witnessed as you catch her looking at you and Yelena from afar when you open your eyes at the end of it.

You’re unable to hide the look of surprise from your face because you weren’t expecting Wanda at this party. While everyone else confirmed their attendance, Wanda remained quiet, never participating in the conversations. Had you known Wanda would be here, you wouldn't have invited Yelena.

Yelena follows your line of sight, and then seeing Wanda, mirrors your surprised expression.

“Why is she here?” she asks, her voice holding a hint of accusation though she tried to hide it.

“I... don't know,” you mumble absentmindedly as your attention is drawn to the person Wanda arrived with.

Valkyrie.

“And why didn’t you tell me that Wanda also belongs in the same running group?”

You shift your focus back to Yelena as Wanda and Valkyrie engage with the other runners, their presence quickly absorbed into the conversations and exchanges happening around them.

“I honestly didn't think it was important to mention,” you admit. “Wanda hasn't been actively involved in the group–she never joins our runs.”

Yelena raises an eyebrow, and says, “Well, I think it's worth mentioning.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was coming today. We all confirmed in the group chat and she never said anything.” you say.

“I get it, just remember, be open with me, especially about her,” Yelena says, her face softening. “I don't want to be 'that' girlfriend, but trust takes time. You not telling me the whole story about her doesn't help.”

“I'm sorry. It won't happen again,” you promise.

Yelena nods, pulling you in for another kiss. This one feels more intense, more insistent. Just as Yelena's tongue finds its way into your mouth, Wanda happens to glance your way. The sight causes her to promptly look away.

As Yelena's lips leave yours and she steps back, Valkyrie saunters over, her hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of her vest, a cheeky grin playing on her lips.

“Glad to see you again, Y/N,” Valkyrie greets, her gaze shifting to Yelena. “Who's this?”

You offer Valkyrie a tight smile and proceed to introduce Yelena as your girlfriend. Valkyrie extends her hand to Yelena, their handshake lingering a moment longer than necessary, with Valkyrie's thumb softly brushing the back of Yelena's hand before letting go. And then she excuses herself, winking at you both as she returns to Wanda’s side.

It might just be your intense dislike of this woman, but you can't help but worry about Wanda trusting someone who evidently likes to flirt.

As you slide an arm around Yelena, you both find a quieter spot, away from the buzz.

“You don't seem too thrilled about her,” Yelena notes.

With a small scoff, you try to dismiss it. “Valkyrie?”

"Yeah. Right there, when you say her name... It's like you'd rather jump off a cliff," Yelena remarks, noticing your disdain.

“She's just... too full of herself for my liking.”

Yelena gives you a knowing look. “You sure it's not because she showed up with–”

“Of course not,” you retort, a bit too quickly. Feeling the conversation veer into uncomfortable territory, you quickly reroute. “There's beer in the cooler, want one?”

Yelena is momentarily taken aback by the sudden shift, but she nods and replies, “Sure.”

They decide on a casual game of Ultimate Frisbee, as suggested by Valkyrie.

You find yourself on one team, while Valkyrie stands on the opposing side. In the sidelines, are your ex-wife and your girlfriend, both seemingly enthralled by the competition that’s about to unfold. You've never played this game before, but Shaun takes the time to show you the ropes of throwing a frisbee with a backhand and a forehand. He explains the rules, which turn out to be fairly easy to understand, given their similarity to soccer. The objective is to get the disc to the other side of the field and avoid turnovers.

The frisbee soars through the air, hurled by none other than Valkyrie to signal the start of the game. Adrenaline courses through your veins, as a fierce determination fueled by the seemingly permanent smirk on Valkyrie’s face propels you forward.

With every throw and catch, you channel your frustrations into the game. It's no longer just about Valkyrie, but also about Vision and the money he managed to extort from you. It's about Wanda and how closely she's watching your every move with something akin to regret and longing in her wide, green eyes. It's about the video you chose not to watch, yet its very existence continues to haunt you.

Valkyrie, agile and naturally athletic, matches your intensity on the field. Each time she catches the frisbee, you feel a surge of anger ignite within you. It's as if every point she scores is a personal affront to your pride. You relentlessly pursue her with a goal in mind to outmatch her every move.

The crowd cheers and gasps with each spectacular play. Wanda's eyes lock with yours, her expression caught between concern and admiration, and you return her gaze with a look of spite as you try to block the movements of the person you’re guarding.

In a pivotal moment, Valkyrie sprints toward the end zone as the disc flies in the similar direction. Taking this window of opportunity, you charge after her, consumed by a desire to tackle her to the ground.

With a surge of strength, you lunge forward with an aim to bring her down.

But fate has a different plan.

In the chaotic collision that ensues, you crash into Valkyrie with all your might. But the strong and sturdy body she’s paraded around for weeks proves to be impenetrable. As the dust settles, you find yourself sprawled on the ground, nursing a deep gash on your elbow. Valkyrie, remarkably unscathed, stands tall, a defiant smirk on her face.

Both Yelena and Wanda rush to your aid, much to your chagrin.

“What the hell was that?” Yelena yells as she leans over you with worry.

Wanda, keeping a cautious distance, chimes in, “Y/N, are you okay?”

Valkyrie, offering you a hand to help you up, dismisses the incident casually. “Oh, she's fine. It happens often in these games.”

Reluctantly, you reach out and steady yourself on Valkyrie's arm, disliking the fact you need her help in that moment. You take a couple of steps back from Valkyrie as soon as you find your footing and grab Yelena’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m okay,” you tell Yelena.

"You're bleeding," Wanda points out, eyes fixed on the wound on your elbow.

“It’s just a small scratch,” you argue, even as the blood drips from your skin and onto the grass.

“Sorry, but it's a general rule to sub out a wounded soldier,” Valkyrie cuts in.

You sneer inwardly at Valkyrie’s flowery choice of words.

“Come on, babe. I'll help you clean that up,” Yelena says, placing a hand on your lower back as she leads you back to the sidelines.

“I’ll get the first aid kit.” Wanda says. Yelena looks at Wanda over her shoulder and you hold your breath, anticipating their exchange. But your girlfriend simply offers your ex-wife a small smile and thanks her.

The night approaches rather quickly after the game.

Everybody helps pack up the picnic spread before the sun sets, as the group collectively agrees to move the party to a pub that Valkyrie claims she managed to reserve at the last minute. The bar she picked is also unbelievably convenient, only being a few minutes away from the park by foot. So, now, everyone looks at Valkyrie with a sense of awe, seeing how effortlessly she can organize a good time. You remain skeptical, however, suspicious that she’s planned everything in advance.

“This Valkyrie–is she some kind of socialite?” Yelena wonders aloud as the two of you enter the bar. Taking in its classy interior, you can tell almost immediately that reserving the entire area must have come at a hefty price.

You shrug in reply, walking straight to the bar to order a double right away.

Valkyrie hasn’t left Wanda’s side all day after the game. Your only interaction with Wanda so far was when she returned to where you and Yelena sat as your girlfriend tended to your wound. Although she didn't utter a word, a small smile graced her face as she handed the first aid kit to Yelena.

“Are you okay?” Yelena asks, rubbing your shoulder, trying to ease the tension she finds there.

“Just tired,” you answer, knocking down your drink.

“May I have everyone's attention, please?” Valkyrie's voice cuts through the blaring music, drawing everyone’s attention towards her.

“I'd like to take a moment to express my gratitude to each and every one of you for joining us at this event. Your presence is invaluable, and it greatly contributes to the success of this gathering,” she states, and you stifle the urge to roll your eyes. Valkyrie lifts her beer can, prompting everyone else to raise their drinks in unison. “Here's to our courageous participants of this Sunday's NYC Marathon. May you conquer the finish line with strength and surpass your own expectations. Cheers!”

With the toast complete, the assembled crowd joins in, raising their glasses and cheerfully clinking them together. Just like that, the party that Yelena is more amenable to officially begins.

Yelena mingles with the group of people who have come to support their partners' interests, all sharing a similar confusion about the appeal of waking up early to cover long distances that, typically, should not be covered by foot. You relax at seeing her chat with them animatedly, looking like she’s enjoying herself so far.

With Yelena occupied, you allow yourself a moment to sulk in a corner of the bar. As you look around the room, you can't help but think about how your lawyer hasn't given you any updates about the counter demand letter. You think about Natasha, who still hasn’t called you back. It makes you feel uneasy, not knowing where things stand.

You try not to think about Wanda, who currently has her head thrown back, laughing at something Valkyrie said. It strikes you that you haven't seen her so carefree in quite some time.

“Hey,” Yelena taps you on the shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts. "Me and some of the girls want to go check out this band playing a couple of blocks away. It won't take long, just a few songs. Is that alright with you?"

“Sure,” you respond. “I'll be ready to leave when you get back.”

“Great,” Yelena replies, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you later.”

You observe Yelena as she happily leaves the venue with her new friends, while you catch the bartender's attention and order another drink.

An hour passes by swiftly, and there is still no sign of Yelena or any message from her. You take a break from alcohol and sip on water, trying to sober up in case Yelena gets back. Shaun tries to engage you in a conversation about World Marathon Majors and his aspirations to qualify for Boston, but your lack of interest is evident, and he eventually excuses himself to join Valkyrie's group. You notice that they are now playing a drinking game, and Wanda receives a shot glass from Valkyrie.

“Truth or drink, Wanda?” Valkyrie teases, hovering a bit too near Wanda for your comfort.

“Truth,” Wanda responds.

“Got anyone you're into at the moment?”

A laugh escapes Wanda, followed by a nervous gulp. “Actually, I think I'll take that drink,” she deflects.

Valkyrie's expression drops, clearly let down by the missed chance to pry into Wanda's love life.

“Since you dodged the truth, you're up for two shots,” she announces, her lips curled into a roguish smile. Wanda obediently follows, and you observe her wince as she slams back the tequila shots. A delicate flush on her cheeks hints that this isn't their first round.

You remain an onlooker as a series of questions are effortlessly answered by various individuals until Wanda is in the hot seat once again.

“Can I pass? I think I've had enough.” Wanda says.

“Oh, don't quit on me now. We're just warming up.”

Wanda offers a weak smile, then capitulates, “Alright. Just one more round, okay? Uhm, truth.”

Someone from the group throws the question. “Have you ever cheated on someone?”

Wanda's smile evaporates almost immediately. She forces a feeble laugh as she once again backtracks from her initial selection. Her gaze flickers towards you before darting back to Valkyrie, finding you already watching her closely.

“I think I want to drink for this one,” Wanda declares, going ahead to down two more shots in line with the game rules. The group cheers her on while Valkyrie, laughing, refills the emptied shot glasses.

Valkyrie finds herself intrigued. Wanda could've simply said 'no' if she hasn’t. She only becomes more fascinating in Valkyrie’s eyes knowing that she’s not as saintly as she looks.

The game continues, everyone takes their turn and it lands on Wanda once more. This time, she dismisses the drink pushed towards her. “I really should pass this time.” Wanda says.

Yet Valkyrie keeps pushing the drink towards Wanda, seemingly blind to her discomfort. Seeing this, you feel the urge to step in.

“She said no. Didn't you catch that?” you squeeze yourself in between Shaun and another girl who looks stunned at your sudden interjection. “Because I could hear her just fine from way over there,” you add, thumbing back at your former spot, some distance away.

“Chill out, we're just having a good time.” Valkyrie shrugs.

“Fucking respect her boundaries, okay? She’s had enough. And she has good reasons to avoid it, trust me.” you assert, your eyes narrowing slightly as you emphasize your point.

Almost immediately, Wanda stands, her lips clenched and her face flushed with annoyance.

“I’m gonna go get some air,” Wanda says to no one in particular.

“Need me to come along?”

“Just stay here, Val, okay?” Wanda interjects, her voice softer as she deftly maneuvers past you.

Your heartbeat quickens as you trail after her.

“Wanda, wait!” you shout, pushing through the crowd.

She pays no heed, her steps resounding heavily as she marches on. Her shoulders are stiff, her movements terse. You can almost sense the anger radiating off her like a dark halo. Chasing after her, you weave through the throng of nosy people who are all looking at you openly, as they watch the commotion continue to unfold before their eyes.

A second later, the door shuts behind you, effectively muffling the music from inside.

Wanda has made it a good distance from the pub, her silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the moon.

“Wanda!” you call out again, your voice softer this time, carrying a note of desperate concern.

At your call, she finally stops.

She stands frozen for a moment before turning to face you. Her face, usually so tender and kind, is etched with an unusual hardness now.

“Why did you do that?” she asks, her tone unexpectedly steady.

“What are you talking about? It was clear she was pushing you into drinking more than you wanted. I simply backed you up there–for which, by the way, some gratitude wouldn't hurt,” you snap back, irritation seeping into your tone.

Wanda's empty laughter rings out in the quiet night. “You practically just implied to everyone that I have a drinking problem!”

“Don't you?” you hiss through a sneer. “I remember getting a call from the person you cheated on me with because you were almost passed out on the street after a night of excessive drinking.”

Wanda visibly flinches, her body recoiling as though she’s just been slapped. The instant your words escape your lips, remorse floods over you, your chest heaving as you catch your breath. Watching the shock on Wanda’s face slowly shift into a profound sadness only deepens your regret.

“Wanda–”

"Thank you... for standing up for me earlier. Good night, Y/N." she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. With those words, she turns her back on you and starts to walk away.

You think about stopping her, but you’re too ashamed of yourself to do anything.

For the next few minutes you just stare at the spot where Wanda stood, haunted by the look of hurt on her face. In the distance, Yelena’s unmistakable voice reaches your ears, signaling her return.

‘Hey, baby!” she slurs, elongating the final syllable, leaving no doubt in your mind that she's drunk.

You approach Yelena, keeping your steps hushed, while she bids farewell to her companions.

“Ready to head home?” you ask in a calm voice.

Yelena's face lights up with enthusiasm as she eagerly nods. Taking her hand into yours, you signal a passing cab.

Later, a little before midnight, your pretense of sleep is broken by the piercing ring of your phone. The truth is, you haven't slept a wink, instead lying still with eyes closed, the happenings of the day replaying ceaselessly in your mind. You pick up the call immediately, taking care not to disturb Yelena's peaceful slumber beside you.

“Y/N?” Wanda's voice comes through the phone, quaking with fear. “I came home and there's… there’s sick all over. Sparky... he's…” Her words fragment into inconsolable sobbing.

“Hey, hey. Just stay calm, okay? I'm on my way," you reassure her before ending the call. You turn to Yelena, sprawled unconscious on the bed. With delicate motions, you snugly wrap the comforter around her and carefully place a pillow under her arm that was previously draped over you. You plant a kiss on her temple before dressing up quickly to meet Wanda.

Around 1:30 in the morning, the veterinarian steps out of the examination room to announce that Sparky is now stable. Wanda's eyes are puffy and bloodshot from crying, but she pays careful attention to the doctor’s report on Sparky’s condition. The situation was critical, but thankfully, Sparky has rallied, his vital signs settling back into normal ranges. Despite this, the vet recommends keeping him under observation for an additional 48 hours to ensure his continued recovery.

You settle the bill out of your own credit card and escort a grief-stricken Wanda back to her apartment. You instruct her to get comfortable on the couch as you move around the kitchen and prepare yourselves a cup of tea. As you re-enter the living room, you notice Wanda remains in the same position, her gaze fixed on Sparky's dog bowl, a few kibbles still left untouched.

“Do you remember when Sparky first became a part of our lives?” Wanda asks suddenly.

You nod solemnly, settling down beside Wanda as you hand her her tea. She accepts it gratefully, cradling it in her hands to soak in its comforting warmth.

“It was on your 25th birthday, and he was my surprise gift for you,” you recall with a hint of nostalgia.

“Your sneaky way of adopting him without telling me,” Wanda retorts, finally managing a small smile.

The fond memory brings a soft chuckle to your lips. Wanda had never been keen on having a pet, especially in your small Manhattan apartment. But Sparky quickly won her over within just a couple of days. She would serenade him with renditions of "You Are My Sunshine" every day for a week, until she eventually grew tired of the song and moved on to another tune to sing to him.

“I always knew that we would outlive him. But it's just too soon,” Wanda sniffles, new tears welling up in her eyes. “He deserves more years. I want him to stay with us for as long as a dog possibly can.”

“Me too,” you sigh.

Before you know it, you’re gathering Wanda into your arms. She instinctively nestles her face into the crook of your neck, tears dampening your skin. Your hand gently rubs soothing circles on her back, while your other hand softly strokes her hair. In a hushed voice, you whisper reassurances, telling her that everything will eventually be alright.

When Wanda’s trembling subsides, you feel her shift in your arms. And as you begin to lean your head back from where it’s resting on her shoulder, a magnetic force seems to hold you in place, and you find yourself unable to completely let go. Your forehead ends up resting against hers, watching her calm face in silence. Her eyes stay closed a bit longer, and when they eventually flutter open, you're captivated by the most perfect shade of green, and in that moment it becomes perfectly clear to you that you love her and you never stopped.

Not even then.

A hint of worry appears in Wanda’s deep, emerald eyes as she meets yours. “Y/N–” she starts.

But her words get lost as your nose delicately grazes against hers, and your lips find hers in a clandestine kiss.

She responds to your kiss instinctively, and you merge in a manner that's both wonderfully familiar and refreshingly new. Your fingers trace a soft path across her neck before firmly cradling it, eliciting shivers that ripple through Wanda, right to her core.

The need for breath brings an end to the kiss, and you part from Wanda's lip with a slight wet sound. You take in as much air as you can, ready to lean in once more. But before your lips can meet hers again, she gently places a hand on your chest, giving you a gentle push.

“This... this isn't right,” Wanda stammers, pulling herself back from you. The spot on her neck where your hand rested is warm, the embers of your touch still smoldering as she tries to extinguish the fire you had sparked within her. “We can’t do this to Yelena.”

“Wanda, I–”

“You’re better than me,” she reminds you. “I’m sorry.”

It feels as if you're being jolted awake from a surreal dream, and you instinctively distance yourself from Wanda. Her eyes, filled with worry, attempt to meet yours, but you evade her gaze, the gravity of your actions slowly sinking in.

In a heartbeat, you find yourself bolting from her apartment, your feet pounding the pavement beneath as if trying to outrun the harsh reality of what you’ve done. You just betrayed Yelena. You'd just kissed Wanda. And you don’t know what was more frightening: your actions, or the fact that part of you didn't regret it.

In the waning hours before dawn, sleep proves stubbornly out of reach. The lingering taste of Wanda's kiss and the guilt eating at your conscience keeps slumber at bay. You had done to Yelena the very thing that ruined your life. You spent these hours looking at Yelena’s sleeping face, knowing that this may very well be the last few hours you get to be this close to her.

And just as your eyelids begin to droop, Yelena stirs, slowly waking up.

Yelena hums as she stretches like a cat, and then blinks up at you, a smile already working its way to her lips. Your heart is ringing loudly in your ears by now, making it impossible for you to mirror the delight on your girlfriend's face.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Yelena asks, concern creasing her forehead as her hand lifts to cup your cheek.

“Yelena, I–” Your gaze drops, focusing on the unforgiving reality of the mattress beneath you, avoiding her piercing eyes as you muster the courage to confess. “I… I relapsed–”

“Don’t,” Yelena's voice cuts through your racing thoughts, her intuition already piecing together your next words. "Don't say it."

The silence that looms over your heads is oppressive and suffocating.

“This has gone on for long enough,” Yelena finally declares, her tone resolute. “I have to go.”

“Wait, Yelena–” you stutter, your mind scrambling to string together a sequence of words that might lessen the blow of your betrayal. “Where will you go?”

“Somewhere far away from you,” she replies, her words carrying a frosty undertone.

It stings. And you deserve it.

With that, she gets up and leaves the room, leaving you to the wreckage.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction

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hotchs-big-hands · 6 months

Text

The Slaughterhouse

Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader part 1 5.3k words

Minors dni please

Warning(s): VERY DARK, graphic murder description, injury, gore, blood, fatphobia, extreme angst (with a happy ending), sort-of enemies to lovers, kidnapping, torture, references to SA, derogatory nsfw comments. Oh and I use the word fat because I personally reclaimed it to not rly insult me as it is merely a descriptive word. I do not use it in an insulting way even once in the series.

Please heed the warnings, this series is going to be dark asf. No smut in this series tho.

An escalating string of gruesomely murdered fat women begin to stack up with no end in sight. What started as an unfortunate routine case for the BAU team, takes a disturbing turn as you become entangled in the unsub's web, danger approaching closer and closer. It's only a matter of time before it's too late to bring the madness to an end.

Hiiiii everyone! I'm really happy to start my new series! It's a vast departure from my previous series lol but I hope you all enjoy regardless! As stated tho in the warnings it's gonna get dark so feel free to skip if you're not comfortable! But if you'd like to be tagged then please let me know! Happy reading 💖💖💖

A thin trail of red tinged water trickled down into the drain, not quite blending together more so than the red slowly spread out in the clear liquid like drops of crimson ink.

"Has Pen got a cute bandaid I could use, you think?" You asked the woman beside you as you rinsed a papercut you'd gained from the insultingly tall stack of paperwork on your desk. The woman, Emily Prentiss, shrugged slightly, tussling her silky, black hair.

"Maybe. I'll text her and ask."

"Thanks."

It didn't take long for the door to the women's restroom to burst open, almost slamming into the wall as a frantic Penelope Garcia rushed over to you, a pink first aid kit in her bejewelled hands.

"I'm here, I'm here! Nurse Garcia to the rescue!!" She cried, her blonde curls bouncing with every step. You chuckled at her as Emily stepped out of the way.

"Thank goodness, I was really starting to have second thoughts about my survival rate here."

Penelope was quick to spring into action, setting the kit down and upon opening it she retrieved an antiseptic wipe.

"Give me your hand, I'm going to clean the area." She instructed, eyes a little narrowed as she began to concentrate. You winced slightly when the antiseptic stung a little, but soon you were sporting an adorable pink bandaid with a Hello Kitty pattern on it. You held your hand out to admire it with a grin.

"Thanks so much, Pen!"

The ditzy blonde woman smiled.

"You are so welcome, my lovely."

"Come on, we need to head back to the bullpen before somebody notices we disappeared." Emily said pointedly, glancing at Penelope who returned the look. You grimaced slightly and took the empty bandaid wrapper to shove in the trashcan under your desk.

"Yeah true, we should go before I end up with another stack of paperwork." You muttered, heading towards the door and pulling it towards you. That somebody was none other than your up-tight, impersonal boss and unit chief Aaron Hotchner. Well, impersonal with you that is.

Your time in the BAU had only been a mere year, but it was long enough to form relationships with your coworkers. Whenever possible, you attended ladies' nights with Penelope, Emily and the only other woman in the BAU; Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau, spent time with the ever charmer Derek Morgan whilst he worked on his house projects and happily listened to the young Doctor Spencer Reid as he spoke extensively about chemistry or some sort of engineering related topic. Hell, sometimes you even offered an ear to the oldest member of the team; David Rossi, discussing his passion for cooking and other such things from his life.

But no matter what you tried, there was no breaking down the walls around Aaron Hotchner and at this point you'd begun to stop trying. And it hurt like hell. Not because he was your boss, you didn't care so much about that, but because you happened to like him very much. Probably too much even. He was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. Even now you couldn't stop yourself from letting your eyes wander over to glance at him, to take in his tall stature and handsomely seasoned features. And you knew he had a kind and loving side to him as well from the interactions you'd witnessed between him and your coworkers. But the same couldn't be said for you. He never offered that olive branch to you, never spoke to you besides work related discussion when on cases. Hell, you basically knew nothing of his son besides the snippets the others had told you of the elusive boy. Not from Agent Hotchner, but from Emily, Derek, Penny...

There was no way of saying it didn't sting, because it did very much so. And it had been this way right from when you walked through the door per section chief Erin Strauss' recommendation. Your interview was tense between yourself, Hotchner and Rossi with the two of them seemingly being in disagreement about you. Rossi, on one hand, was adamant about your capabilities and of what you would bring to the team, whereas your now boss was reluctant. Nitpicky. Wanting to find something to use to keep you from the position in the team. And when he realised you were officially in the team on your first day, walking into the bullpen with your slightly busted brown box of desk essentials and trinkets, was when the walls were raised to impenetrable heights.

Sighing quietly, you returned to the bullpen, fingers of your uninjured hand fiddling with the balled up wrapper. Your eyes flicked to the familiar windowed office above the main desk area. The blinds were open. He no doubt knew yourself and Emily had disappeared for a short while. You scowled a little to yourself. What did it matter? As long as you got your work completed all the same then it didn't matter if you were at your desk the whole day or not. And it didn't matter what he thought, or if he even did take notice of your absence or if he knew why you were gone. Or if he worried over you. It didn't matter, you told yourself.

"Hey sweet thing, what's that frown for, huh?" You blinked as you were brought to the present by the voice of your friend Derek Morgan. You turned in your chair to face him with a sheepish grin.

"Oh, I'm just annoyed I got a papercut. Like are you kidding me?" You said humourously and the dark skinned man laughed, his teeth gleaming under the artificial office lights.

"Aww I'm sorry, did you accidentally touch these abs or something?" His eyes were shining mischievously now and you rolled your own with a scoff.

"Yeah yeah, you wish. The culprit was this pile of paperwork though."

In response, Derek formed a heart shape with his hands, only to break it when he moved his hands away from one another, pouting sadly as he slumped back in his chair. You giggled quietly and rolled your eyes before you returned your attention to the casefiles on your desk. But it wasn't long before you spotted the colourfully dressed Penny again as she rushed towards your unit chief's office, meaning there was a case about to unfold. You eyed your coworkers, who returned the glance, then automatically made a move to close the casefile you had open on your desk and added it to the paper tower. You rose from your seat just as the office door swung open again and Penny reappeared with Hotch behind her. As she made her way to the conference room the tall man leaned over the walkway in the direction of your colleagues and yourself.

"We have a case. Be in the conference room in 2 minutes." He said curtly, eyes flicking between each face. They lingered on you for a moment, brows pulled together in a deep frown, then moved away as he followed the blonde woman. Over time you'd come to understand that look; this case was bad. Very bad.

JJ was already in the conference room when you trailed in behind Reid, Rossi following behind you and closing the door as the last person in the room. You took a seat near the far side of the round table from the doorway, Emily moving to sit on your left. Your eyes drifted around the room, brows furrowing very slightly when you couldn't find the unit chief in his usual position at the table. The chair beside you made a sound as it was pulled out and to your horror you realised none other than Derek Morgan had taken Hotch's seat, which meant...

You heard Aaron Hotchner clear his throat to your right as he shifted to get comfortable in the chair, the leather squeaking beneath his weight. You didn't dare look his way, instead turning your head to Emily with a slightly skittish look in your eyes. To your horror she was already looking at you, a devilish smirk battling its way on her face.

"You okay there, (L/n)?" She asked sweetly. You scoffed.

"Always am."

You could have sworn you heard the man beside you draw in a sharp breath.

"Let's get started." He said in his smooth, deep voice.

JJ had laid out the casefiles for everyone to look at, but as you reached forward to grab your copy a tanned, hairy hand gently grasped your wrist. You flinched, body turning to the culprit as none other than your boss. He stared back, brows furrowed deeply and his emotions guarded.

"Careful."

You knew all eyes were on the two of you, the burn of the stares was almost unbearable, like fire ants crawling all over you. And then Penelope cleared her throat, ending the moment. Hotch retracted his hand from your wrist carefully and you turned your attention to the two blonde women about to present the case.

It became very apparent almost immediately why your boss was hesitant for you to open your casefile.

You had seen all manner of depravity in this field of work. And while you didn't exactly enjoy seeing the bodies of victims, even the most gruesome crimes didn't really affect you as much as they used to. But what you didn't expect was seeing the horribly mutilated corpses of women, women who had a common similarity with you. Every single one was fat like you. Well, as best as you could tell through the extent of the mutilations to the bodies. With the side-by-side comparison of the photos of the victims as they were alive and happy, their cheerful smiles besides the butchered bodies was... difficult. Hell, you could effortlessly imagine a photo of yourself alongside theirs with how similar their bodies were to yours.

The voices of your colleagues around you seemed distant as your eyes read the current details of the case. Over the course of 4 months, seven women of varied ethnicities, between the ages of 19 and 25, had all been found dumped naked in a variety of locations in a large town in Texas. Their bodies were butchered and there was evidence of violent sexual assault. A chilling detail was each victim had had their blood drained entirely. You couldn't stop your eyes from drifting back to the photos of their faces.

"(L/n)?"

You blinked, looking up to see who had spoken. All eyes were on you, causing you to wince slightly.

"Yeah?"

Beside you, Emily placed her hand on your arm.

"You alright?" She asked quietly. You were quiet for a moment.

"Oh, yeah I'm... fine. I was just reading the details." You managed to murmur.

"Any thoughts so far?" Rossi cut in, staring at you intently.

"Mhm, this killer holds a lot of resentment towards fat women from the way they've sliced and butchered their bodies. The blood draining is a bit unusual, however I don't think it's for ritualistic purposes."

"What do you suspect it to be about?" JJ spoke. You narrowed your eyes a little as you thought about it.

"I'm... not sure. Maybe there isn't a purpose other than to get rid of the mess."

Beside you, the leather of the chair Hotch sat on creaked under his movement when he closed his copy of the casefile and pushed away from the table.

"We'll continue to discuss theories on the plane. For now, get yourselves ready to go. Wheels up in thirty." He concluded and stood up from his seat, everyone else following along. You closed your file and made a move to follow behind Emily, when the familiar touch of Hotch's hand grasped your wrist gently again. "(L/n), a word."

Helplessly, you watched everyone file out of the room and you sighed gently. His hand dropped away and as you glanced down at your feet you could feel his scrutinizing stare.

"I need you to remain by my side for this case." He said bluntly.

"Huh?"

You frowned at him. This certainly wasn't what you thought he was going to say. You watched as his brow creased.

"I want to keep an eye on you."

What? You blinked at him.

"Why's that, sir? I don't quite follow."

"I don't want to be insensitive but you have seen the victims the unsub targeted. I just want to make sure you're safe." Hotch explained in as gentle of a way he had ever spoken to you. Oh... You swallowed thickly and nodded once.

"I see. Uh, well I appreciate it, sir. I should be okay though, I have you all around me after all."

It was your boss' turn to frown now, evidently displeased with your response. But he didn't push it, picking his casefile off the table and fixing his watch around his wrist.

"If you insist. But I don't approve of this though."

You nodded and cleared your throat, following him as he stalked out of the conference room. As he made a right turn towards his office, you continued forward until you were with the others again. JJ was the first to break the air of curiosity.

"What did Hotch want?" She asked you as she checked she had everything she needed in her go bag. You sighed and crossed over to your desk.

"Said he wants me to stay by his side, given the nature of what we're dealing with."

"And are you doing that?" Derek asked, eyeing you pointedly. You shook your head.

"I don't really want to have to hang back from working on this case as much as I intend on doing so."

Emily lightly nudged you when she approached your desk, her bag slung over one shoulder.

"Maybe he has a point though." She offered but you scrunched your nose up.

"I also don't really feel like spending the whole time with someone who acts like I'm as worthy of their time as a plank of rotting wood would be." You muttered to yourself as you shoved the casefile in your bag, missing the uncomfortable shared glances of your team mates when the subject of your conversation approached the group.

You felt Emily nudge you again and you straightened up, sealing your bag shut.

"Alright, alright I'm ready to go n..ow..." she wasn't looking at you, you realised, and your body tensed when you heard him speak.

"Let's head out." Agent Hotchner said roughly and turned to leave, face sour. Damn, you strongly hoped he hadn't heard you just now but judging from his expression you knew he must have done. Sighing softly, you picked your bag up and swung it over your shoulder. And followed behind the others to head to the airport. It was never a good idea to start a case off with conflict.

Work began immediately when the team met up with the Police department in Memphis, with everyone splitting up to take care of different tasks. Much to your relief, Hotch had teamed you up with Derek to visit the bar the latest victim had been last seen before her disappearance and murder. Despite the time in the day it was rowdy inside, a significant hum of conversation ever present as the two of you navigated around to interview staff and patrons. So far, there had been no luck though with finding any information on whoever was responsible for the crimes.

As your eyes drifted around the room they settled on a young woman who had just entered the bar. She stood around five feet six inches tall with dyed red curls which ended around her shoulders and her figure was similar to your own, albeit slightly bigger. Someone the unsub would target, you thought to yourself bitterly. Her eyes found you and she nervously approached you, gaze darting around. Nudging Derek subtly, you met the girl halfway across the bar. She was shaking.

"Hey, I'm agent (Y/n) (L/n) and this is agent Derek Morgan of the FBI. Are you alright?" You asked her gently and she cleared her throat.

"You're... you're investigating the murders, aren't you?" Her voice was quiet. You nodded and brought your hands up to take hold of her arms.

"I understand it's very frightening right now, but we're here to do whatever we can to find this person."

Derek eyed the young woman, gaze sincere but analysing.

"Do you have anyone of note who could be a person of interest?" He questioned her. Her eyes flitted to him.

"I... I'm not sure. There's a lot of people who treat us badly," She shifted around, folding her arms close to her body. "J-just five months ago there was a girl who got- um, assaulted because she rejected someone. She was like us, a bigger woman."

Derek's frown deepened.

"Is there records of the assault?"

She shook her head.

"Only of her initial report and visit to the hospital. She was um, too scared to say who it was." She scrunched her eyes shut for a second and shuddered. "H-her name was Amelia Dougherty."

A coldness sunk deep within your abdomen and you fought off the twitch of your lower lip. That was the first victim found dead four months ago. You offered a gentle squeeze of her arms.

"What's your name, lovey?" You said sweetly, feeling the young woman relax under your touch slightly.

"Carla. Carla Reynolds, ma'am."

Your thumbs soothingly brushed against her arms, hopeful she took it as encouragement.

"Well, Carla. I want to thank you for talking to us today. Right now though I need you to head home, protect yourself. Try your best not to go out and about alone if you can help it, yeah?" You instructed her and she nodded.

"Okay..."

With one last squeeze, you let go of her and smiled faintly. Beside you, Derek slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small rectangle of card.

"If you think of anything or see anything suspicious, call my number. Thank you for your time, Miss Reynolds." He said politely, but not unkindly and you both watched as she quickly left the bar. You exhaled softly and turned to the man beside you.

"We certainly know the possible trigger that started this whole murder spree." You murmured. The man beside you nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket with the intention to make a call.

"We'll head back to the station with what we know. I'm gonna ask Garcia for any files on assault reports within the last few months before the murders." He said as he pressed his phone to his ear.

"Sure, I'll just have one last sweep around."

As the man turned to make a call, you let your eyes drift around the room again to analyse everyone. None seemed to stand out, nor were there any other larger women around at this point. Distantly, you could hear Derek chatting lightly to Penny on the other end of the line but you paid little mind to it. But as you turned around to make your way outside a flurry of people entered the bar and, as a consequence, someone bumped into you and caused you to stumble.

"Hey! Watch it, man!" You heard your companion snap, but whoever it was had long since disappeared into the crowd. You sighed and fixed your clothing.

"It's fine, Der. We have more important things to focus on right now anyway."

You could tell from the expression on Derek's face that he was reluctant to let this drop, but he didn't challenge you. And at this point he had finished the call anyway, so without any further delay the two of you headed outside to drive back to the station.

There were no patterns between any of the assault victims from before the murders. All were a much wider range of women, a wider age range, varying body types and there was a multitude of perpetrators committing these assaults as opposed to one, who was suspected to be acting alone committing the murders. And this didn't even include male victims either. The first day of the case was chalking up to being a frustrating dead-end.

Standing in front of the whiteboard that was covered in tacked on pictures and scrawled out notes, you rubbed a hand over your face as you felt your brain turn into cotton in your skull. It was then you felt a presence beside you, causing you to stiffen slightly.

"Got anything?" You heard the soft, deep rumble of Hotch's voice. You exhaled. As you glanced to your side you realised how close to one another you were and the scent of his cologne hit your senses. It made your head feel a bit fuzzy.

"Other than what we already have, no. Maybe just theories on why the unsub picked out these women in particular." You murmured.

"Let's talk about them."

You turned to him with a slight nod, eyes reluctant to leave the board.

"Well, the photographs; the body language suggests a lot of discomfort. The women don't really like being the centre of attention. They're insecure." You began, motioning to the pictures of the victims from when they were still alive. "The unsub will have taken advantage of this, approaching the women in clubs and bars to flirt with them."

Hotch hummed, his focus entirely on you.

"It would seem likely, yes."

"But why go with the guy if they were so insecure?" A different voice chimed into the conversation, causing the two of you to turn. Behind you, Spencer stared with a furrowed brow and you sighed gently.

"If you're in a position where you've never had anyone show interest in you, or at least never seem genuine about it, it really messes with your self esteem. So having someone spend time with you flirting with you will inevitably cause you to drop your defense a bit. Because, well, you've never experienced this before." You turned to the board again and grabbed one of the markers to write some notes down. "With this I can only imagine the unsub is definitely above average in attractiveness but not so much to the point where the victims wouldn't trust their supposed interest."

"Most likely in the late twenties to early thirties. But we'll continue the profile with fresh eyes in the morning." Hotch said and he motioned to address the others. "We should stop for the night and check in to the hotel. We'll be up early in the morning."

There was a mutual sound of agreement from your colleagues but before you could say anything more to your unit chief, he was walking away briskly and pulling his phone out of his pocket to seemingly make a call. He never seemed to linger around you more than what was required of him. You puffed out a breath and capped the pen in your hand again before setting it down. To your left, you were aware of Emily approaching you.

"Sooo..." She began and you huffed.

"Oh, don't start."

"I didn't say anything!"

With a scowl you turned to her, noting the grin she was trying desperately to fend off. You folded your arms.

"Don't be sly with me, dumbass." You spat and she chuckled.

"You know I don't mean any ill-will. Just wondering how you're getting on."

You scoffed.

"Yeah, yeah sure you are."

"Well, I'm sure it's not easy working beside the man you're definitely not interested in!"

A tired grumble left you as you crossed the room to grab your casefile.

“Girl, we are literally trying to solve a serial murder case right now. I got no time to be thinking about anything but this.”

Emily chuckled and leaned her weight onto her hand braced on the table in the centre of the room.

“I know you’re struggling hard not to think about him though.”

You jabbed her with your elbow and scowled at her.

“That’s enough out of you. Now come on, we’re done for the day.” You said and tucked the manila folder under your arm, not missing the little chuckle from the raven haired woman. Once everyone was ready to depart, you found yourself in the same car as the girls and Reid, sitting in the back as you scrolled through your phone. There was a group chat you all used, originally created for strictly case related situations, but with Garcia around there was no way it was going to remain professional for long. And so now it was a mix of light-hearted conversation and sharing as well as more serious messages. The aforementioned had sent a series of messages in response to knowing you were all retiring for the night and you idly sent your own, typically the one to try and send things that would bring a smile to everyone’s faces. The lights from distant buildings and streetlamps would occasionally light up the interior of the car, illuminating your grip on your phone and the face of Reid sitting beside you in the back seat.

Before long, you had reached your destination following behind the car Derek, Rossi and Hotch were in. After parking up, you all grabbed your bags and trailed in behind the two eldest members of the team as they strode towards the reception desk. After a few minutes, the remainder of you decided to take up the couches in the foyer, realising Hotch and Rossi were taking longer than you thought to sort out the rooms. This was not a good sign, only further proven when they turned to the group, mild agitation on their faces. You sighed.

“Oh no, they don’t look too happy, do they?” You mumbled to Derek, leaning towards him. He chuckled.

“No, they do not. I can only imagine what that means.”

And soon enough the situation was brought to light.

“There was a mishap with the booking and there’s no longer enough rooms for one each,” Hotch said flatly, his shoulders slumped and his jaw clenched. “We’ll have to double up.”

Shit. Your eyes flicked to Emily immediately and your heart jolted upon realising she was staring at you with a widening grin. Oh no.

She pushed up off the couch and grabbed her bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder.

“Let’s go, JJ.” She declared and the blonde woman’s head shot up, gaze switching between the two of you. And much to your dismay, she too stood up and followed Emily to grab their room keys.

“Sure.”

Your eyes drifted towards Derek and Reid, feeling slightly hopeful knowing Derek didn’t often enjoy sharing with the young doctor. It startled you when he winked at you, then dragged the wild-haired man to stand up with him.

“C’mon, pretty boy. It’s you and me now.”

Reid seemingly had nothing to say, his brow crooked as slight confusion settled in. Now all that remained was the last two eldest members. Slowly, you turned to look at the eldest.

“...Rossi?”

“Actually, you’ll be sharing with me.” the man beside him spoke, drawing your attention. Hotch eyed you carefully, his brows pulled together slightly. You swallowed.

“I could always take the single room..?” you offered weakly.

“No, I would feel more at ease if you were sharing.”

Rossi raised his brows as he sniffed loudly, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

“And I need my peace and quiet, so I will take the single.” he said and before you could protest the seasoned agent spun on his heel and retreated towards the elevators.

You sighed gently, slowly rising to your feet and awkwardly approaching Hotch.

“Okay… I guess that leaves us then.”

“Yes. If you don’t mind.” he said, brows pulled together. You held your tongue.

“I don’t.”

With a slight nod, he turned away to find the elevators and you quickly followed, pattering after him with your go-bag held at your side. Hotch reached the elevators quickly, holding the doors open for you then pressing the number for your floor. The ride up was silent, painfully so and despite being less than a minute long it felt as though the seconds had been dragged out to an hour long. Tiredly, you dumped your bag in front of you, eyes wandering around the steel walls around you the longer the ride took. Should you speak? You had no idea, unsure what to even say to the man. As though feeling the same discomfort, Hotch cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to another in the empty space the both of you were in. The chime of the elevator stopping to open its doors startled you, blinking a few times at the sound.

As you turned your attention to your bag, Hotch’s hand appeared in view and briskly grabbed the handles of your bag and picked it up. You gasped, looking up at him and realising he was watching you. You drew in a sharp breath.

“Um, thanks.”

“Mhm.”

Once again, he held the elevator door open with his elbow, his hands full with your bag and his. You didn’t comment on it, instead smiling sheepishly and uttering another ‘thank you’ as you passed him. He led the way again, stalking down the carpeted corridor until he stopped in front of a random door. He placed the bags down and made a move to unlock the door, the keys jangling being the only noise in that moment. You both heard the click of the lock coming loose and, after picking the bags up again, Hotch pushed the door open to step inside. But as you followed, you bumped into his solid form and earned a quiet grunt from him, not expecting him to have stopped so suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” you wondered aloud, inching around him to see the problem- oh. Hm.

One king-sized bed sat in the centre of the room against the left wall, not the two beds you were both expecting. Fuck.

“I’ll return to the front desk and see if there’s anything they can do to change this.” Hotch said and you turned to look back at him.

“You know there isn’t anything available, though. Let’s just, um, head in and sort out in the morning.”

The longer you stared at the seeming displeasure on his face, the worse you began to feel about sharing with him. Great, he probably was regretting this now.

“Are you certain?”

It made you frown.

“I’m tired, sir. I just want to have a shower and get some rest.” you muttered. He let out a heavy sigh, deepening the uncomfortable feeling in your lower abdomen, but relented by following you inside the room and closing the door when he had deposited the bags onto the bed.

“You can take the first shower.” he offered quietly and your face twitched into a miniature smile.

“Thanks. Won’t be long. You can choose which side to sleep on.”

Unpacking your toiletries and your (regretful choice) of pyjamas, you tiptoed towards the shower room after kicking your shoes off. Hotch had already made claim of the table in the room, spreading out his work across the surface. You closed the door behind you quickly when he shrugged his suit jacket off and loosened his tie, electing to restrict yourself from seeing him in anything less than his standard clothing for your own wellbeing.

You began to undress, untucking your shirt from your trousers, when you finally noticed something truly off.

Your FBI ID was gone. With one brow quirked, you searched through your pockets and in your toiletry bag, expecting to have maybe misplaced it in a sleepy state. But no… You swallowed thickly and opened the shower room door again. Automatically, Hotch’s head moved to your direction from where he was seated on the side of the bed nearest the hotel room door and he tilted his head.

“What is it?”

You cleared your throat.

“U-uhm… My ID; it’s gone.”

Wooooooo spooooky idk idk I HOPE PPL ENJOYED THIS FIRST PART it's not gonna be jolly from here on out until the end 🥴 if you'd like to be tagged let me know!

Taglist:

@southernraven, @deludedfruitcake , @tgskitten , @zaddyhotch , @cm-slvts-31 , @dins-cyarika @midnghtprentiss

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x plus size!reader #aaron hotchner x plus size reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #hotch x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader

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britany1997 · 1 year

Text

Hot Vampires In Your Area

Hope y’all enjoy the long awaited third and final part to Vampires Everywhere, sorry it took me so long lol

Vampires Everywhere, Hot Vampires In Your Area

Reblog & comment to support my writing💕

Poly! Lost boys x GN Vampire Reader

Warnings: SMUT minors DNI, readers sex not mentioned, riding, biting, mentions of anal sex, slight daddy kink (Dwayne is daddy always), riding, voyeurism, blow job, some aftercare

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

The boys clamored down into their cave with you in tow. The bike ride home had reinvigorated your spirits, and you were already attached to Marko’s lips, kissing him passionately.

He moaned into your mouth as you bit his lip and pulled. They liked to play rough, but so did you.

He growled, pushing you up against the cave wall and pressing sloppy kisses down your jaw and the skin of your neck. You leaned your head back against the wall and smiled blissfully as your hands found their place in his hair.

You pulled him from your neck, tilting his face till his eyes were locked on your own. You stared into his intimately, taking in the sight of his blown pupils and elongated fangs.

If that wasn’t enough proof of his arousal, the pressing against your thigh certainly was. You smirked, before reattaching your lips to his.

They way they wanted you was intoxicating. They permeated through your thoughts, and clouded your mind with visions of them and the pleasure they gave you. You’d never felt so desirable.

“Ahem.”

The sound of a throat being cleared pulled you from your daze as both your head and Marko’s snapped to an impatient Paul, his arms crossed and his pants embarrassingly tight. He was tapping his foot with his eyebrow raised.

You shouldn’t have, but the sight prompted a soft laugh to fall from your lips. The blond boy’s desperation for you did terrible things for your ego.

Paul pouted in reply, a red tinge springing to his cheeks.

Marko rolled his eyes as you traded his arms for Paul’s. “Didn’t mean it like that Paulie,” you assured as you kissed him softly and stroked his cheeks.

“Thought you forgot about me baby,” his pout deepened as his hands snaked around to the small of your back, pulling you into his chest,

David and Dwayne looked on in amusement as Paul dialed up his dramatics.

“Dontcha want me baby?” he gave you his best puppy dog eyes, “I want you, I need you baby. please?”

You stared into his watery baby blues, god he was pretty, “but I promised David Paulie, what about him?”

David snorted from his place on the couch, prompting your gaze to shift to his. He smirked, “let me watch Paulie wreck you babe, then, when you’re all whimpery and shaky…” he chuckled to himself at the lustful expression you wore, “then I’ll give you the best night of your eternal life.” He winked.

God he was smug. You loved it.

“Make a mess Paulie,” David teased.

The wind was knocked out of you as the excited blond vampire wrapped his hands around your legs and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you in the direction is his bedroom, the other boys hot on his heels.

Paul set you down on the bed and rid himself of his clothes frantically. You probably would have chuckled to yourself at his excitement, if you hadn’t been hypothesized by the sight of his pretty cock.

You bit your lip and looked up, only to be met with his smirking face. He pulled you into his lap and kissed you deeply, pushing his tongue into your mouth and exploring you.

As Paul began to kiss down your chest, you scanned the room, moaning softly at the sight of the other boys.

While David sat in Paul’s ratty bean bag, stroking himself, Marko and Dwayne were much less patient.

The picture of Marko pressed against the wall of the cave while Dwayne slid in and out of him, combined with Paul’s teeth sucking mark after mark into your skin forced a low moan from your throat.

Paul squeezed your thigh roughly. You gasped and your head turned towards him. “Eyes on me baby,” he growled as he pushed into you slowly.

You threw your head back in ecstasy at the stretch of him. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders as he held you in his lap.

Paul caged his arms around you pressing you against his chest as he thrust up into you roughly, pulling moans and gasps from your lips.

His fangs began to elongate as his eyes flashed yellow. “Wanted to keep you ya know?” he growled. “The boys were sooo hungry, but I wanted ya, from the moment I saw you in Max’s store I wanted to have you so bad. But I don’t make the choices round here, thought it was a damn waste too.”

You whimpered as you bounced in his lap.

“But now you’re mine baby, and I am gonna keep you.” He squeezed your hips roughly, making you gasp, “you’re ours.”

You moaned at his words as you felt yourself quickly approaching your orgasm.

He reached down to stroke you roughly. “Say it. Say you’re ours while you cum for me baby. Say you belong to us.”

“I’m yours! I’m all yours,” you screamed in pleasure as you came all over him,

He growled before leaning forward and sinking his teeth into your shoulder as he spilled into you. He pulled back, kissing and licking at the mark he’d placed on you. “Ours. All ours.”

You whimpered as you came down from your high and pondered his words. Your tough exterior had melted into a puddle in Paul’s arms. From that moment your hands met in Max’s video store, you were theirs. You just hadn’t known it then.

Paul laid you back on the bed and kissed you softly. “You ok?” he asked as he stroked your cheek. You nodded and smiled as you leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his lips.

He smiled as he returned your affections.

You were pulled from the sweet moment with Paul by the sound of Dwayne’s grunting as he continued to push into Marko. You bit your lip.

The cries and moans that fell from Marko’s lips confirmed that Dwayne hadn’t been lying when he’d told you that all the boys called him daddy.

Your cheeks flushed as David came to your side on the bed, cock in one hand as the other pulled you to his mouth by the back of your head. You whimpered into the kiss.

Paul kissed and bit at your shoulder on your other side, reaching down to part your thighs and stroke softly.

David pulled away to suck on your earlobe and your gaze shifted back to Marko and Dwayne.

Marko screamed daddy as Dwayne finished inside him. Marko pressed against the wall, and Dwayne pressed into him to the hilt. You bit your lip to keep from moaning. The boys to your side, the boys in front of you, it was almost too much.

David laughed to himself as his lips moved to the shell of your ear. “Does that turn you on babe? Dwayne’s a big boy isn’t he?” you whimpered, “do you wish that was you baby? Want to feel him again?” You fought back another moan.

David smirked, “but you already had him tonight didn’t you baby, don’t want to be greedy do you?”

You gasped, your head snapping to face his, “‘m not greedy,” you pouted.

He mock pouted in reply, “really? Well I am, get on your knees for me baby?”

You nodded before turning to give Paul one last kiss. You sat on your knees while David’s stroked himself in front of your face. He wasn’t as long as Paul, but he was thicker, and he had a vein that stretched all across the length of him. The sight made you salivate.

“You gonna be good for me babe? Don’t like brats.”

You smirked up at him, “liar,” you whispered.

He returned your smirk, “just be good,” he commanded as he pulled your face forward.

You wrapped your lips around his tip and swirled your tongue. You moaned as David moved your head forward, pressing more of him into your mouth.

“Such a dirty mouth for such a nice face baby, anyone else get to see you like this?”

You gently shook your head no, before you ran your tongue along his vein, prompting a low growl to fall from his mouth. You smiled with your mouth full, as he continued to move your head back and forth.

“Bein so good baby,” David praised, “just let me take what I want from you.”

You hollowed out your cheeks, totally content to let him use you.

When David’s movements became less and less frequent, and his breathing grew heavy, you leaned forward to take as much of him into your mouth as you could. You could feel him grazing the back of your throat, causing a muffled moan to spring from your lips.

Your attentions pushed him over the edge, but before he could come down your throat, he pulled out to paint your face.

Your hand came up to wipe cum from your nose. “Good aim,” you joked.

He laughed, “don’t worry baby, we’ll clean you up real nice. Dwayne,” he ordered, snapping for him.

He turned back to you, “have a good night?” David asked, eyebrow raised.

“Best yet,” you admitted.

He smiled and pulled you in for a kiss, you moaned into his mouth as you realized he could taste himself on your lips.

When you pulled away from David, Dwayne sat beside you with a wet washcloth, wiping your face and pulling you into his lap.

You blushed, “Dwayne, thank you…I’m uh,” you contemplated how to phrase your next words.

Thankfully you didn’t need to say anything at all. “I know baby,” he assured you, “night’s nearly over anyway, but we’ll have plenty more together yeah?” He asked as he held you in his lap.

You smiled as the four of them looked at you expectantly, “yeah,” you promised as you nodded off, pressed against Dwayne’s chest.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Taglist❤️:

@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @pixielostboy @ghoulgeousimmaculate @anna1306 @solobagginses @peachpixiesstuff @consuming-karma @flower-crowned-lady @warrior-616 @bloodywickedvamp @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @paulxbathbomd @dwaynesluscioushair @vampirefilmlover @feardot-com @its-freaking-bats @ria-coolgirl @besas-stuff @miseryharvester @lostboys1987girl @dwaynedelight @mickkmaiden333 @kurt-nightcrawler @bitchyexpertprincess @arenpath

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charliehoennam · 9 months

Text

take it all.

A/N: Promised @juniebugg I would follow up on this little blurb so here it is! ngl, i got mad horny writing this. i think it'll show lolololol hope u like it. please reblog, yall. sharing is caring.

Warnings: smut, no protection (wrap it up and stay safe), cumplay (i think?), language, NOT SAFE FOR MINORS

Word count: 1,332 (got a lil carried away but this aint nothing compared to the sfw alphabet head canons i got in the works for David Loki. If anyone would like to read that, lemme know!)

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

John couldn’t look more relaxed. The sunshine radiating in from the window behind the couch felt warm against your face. His head fell back against the couch with a long moan as he watched you through his lustful half lidded blue eyes. Calloused fingers combed through your hair, pushing it away from your face. Praises fell from his lips like constant prayers, encouraging you to continue as your cheeks hallowed against his harden dick. He was so turned on. You could feel him twitch in your mouth as you bobbed up and down, sucking his cock.

Releasing his shaft with a wet pop, you let your hand substitute your mouth and wrapped it around his shift to soothe him. He was so close to cumming, but you had other plans for him.

“God, baby. That was fucking close” he panted softly with his legs spread wide open.

You giggled and slowed the pace of your hand to calm him, peppering kisses up the soft flesh of his thighs. When your lips latched around his left ball, he used every drop of restraint in his bones to control himself. He was ready to cum right there, but he couldn’t let the fun be over already. His eyes darkened as he felt your tongue against his skin as your lips pressed to add just enough pressure to deliciously tease him. He adored the tinge of pain rising through his body, heightening his pleasure even more.

The mere sight of his mouth gaping open in an O shape when your hand gave his tip a squeeze along with your mouth on his balls - altering from left to right and right to left to ensure they’d both receive the deserving attention - left your pussy tingling. You could feel your wetness slipping from the entrance; your pussy lips were slick and coated in his saliva as they rubbed smoothly against each other, aching for his cock as you relished in the taste of his saltiness. The pressure in your core kept building and building as you felt the ghost of his tongue probing your pussy. You closed your eyes for a moment to remember the burn of his thick beard as his mouth engulfed your cunt, devouring and savoring your taste. Your clit began to throb just thinking about how it tingled when he sucked on it.

“Come up here” he ordered in a soft voice.

As you moved to straddle his lap, his hands were quick to slide under the fabric of your oversized sleep shirt. Really, it was just an old Metallica t-shirt that used to be his until you’d started living together in your first apartment.

You didn’t even see where the shirt had fallen to. All you could concentrate on was how warm and wet his mouth felt latching on your nipple. Your chest arched instinctively into his touch, splaying your breasts to the warmth of the sun and his saliva. His hair was soft to the touch as your fingers immediately tangled in his rich brown locks. You leaned your head down to watch him hungrily suck your tits. The minty scent of his 2 in 1 men’s shampoo filled your nostrils. His large hands kneaded your breasts as he altered between them until he finally pulled back.

“These are so fucking beautiful, you know that? Could suck your tits all fucking day.” He grinned mischievously as his hands shook your tits, making them jiggle for his amusement. “Goddamn, baby,” he whispered slipping a hand down to feel your drenched pussy lips, “you’re fucking soaking for me. I wanna see this. Lay down for me?”

His shit-eating grinned grew from ear to ear once you laid back on the couch. He moved to kneel on the floor between your legs, his sweaty hairy chest glistening in the afternoon sun. Your pussy gushed being on full display for him. With the kids, the auto-shop and the house to take care of, you and John had been restricted to quickies in the laundry room of the house or his office at the shop after closing time. It’d been a while since you were able to get as naughty as you wanted to. But with the kids away at school, John’s time off and your long absence of sexual satisfaction at each other’s hands, you could not pass up the opportunity.

“Missed this pussy so fucking much. Feels so good, all wet for me” he mumbles too focused admiring your cunt as his thumbs pulled your lips apart only to squeeze them back together teasing your clit with the pressure of his thumbs. His cock slid between your lips as he smirked widely, watching how his teasing actions made you squirm and grind you against his dick. You needed the friction; you were about to burst inside with arousal brimming at the edge of your control.

“Easy, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want. Lemme play a bit huh?” He chuckled lowly with his eyes fixed on how your pussy lips engulfed him, sandwiching his dick between the slick folds.

“Look how pretty you look with my cock like this. A little cock sandwich,” he chuckled at his own joke, tapping your sensitive nub with the heavy hard head of his shaft. “I think I might just cum in your pussy and on it too.” You nodded smiling widely at the thought of your cunt being coated in his seed.

His hips moved back as his hands held your knees back, folding you in half to keep your pussy on display for him. You could scream from excitement. Just feeling his cock easing its way into you was enough to get you off at this point.

“F-Fuck. Nice and slow. I love watching your wet pussy swallow this cock. Wraps around it so good,” he groaned staring at your puffy lips as he bottomed out with his groin pressed to your cunt. “Play with your tits for me, sweetheart?”

How could you not when he asks with such a sweet soft voice?

His hips pulled back out slowly until he was all the way out and pushed back into your pussy painstakingly slow a couple of times. Then, he pushed back in with a hard thrust that made your body jerk. You began to beg and he smirked watching your face as you spread your legs as wide as possible.

Your breasts bounced wildly as his hips sped up. Your slick became audible as your pussy squelched around his cock and stuck to the skin of his groin. You’d never looked more beautiful to him than now, with your pussy full of his cock, taking in every inch as your tits jerked in circles from the harshness of his hips. The only moments he could tear his eyes away from your body was when they closed, trying to hold back his orgasm.

His movements grew harder and untamed. He was as close as you were. Watching your hand rub your clit as his cock pounded your wet flesh, the loud echoing slaps of skin, the panting and moaning of your despair growing louder, it was all too much. You felt the pressure explode inside you and released your orgasm on him, legs trembling from the overstimulation. Fingers tightening against the supple flesh of your thighs, he finally gave in and coated your walls with his cum with a wild growl.

He pulled his cock out carefully, trying to keep his white load in your open hole. Using his tip, he pushed the pearly white cream from your hole and spread it up and down over your swollen folds to coat you inside and out.

“My girl, my wife, and now my little filthy fucking cumslut” he chuckled breathing heavily as he leaned to kiss you tenderly, holding your face in his hands like a precious jewel to be admired.

“Good thing the kids have soccer practice after school ‘cause I’m only getting started.”

#john kinley #john kinley x you #john kinley x reader #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #the convenant #the convenant 2023 #jake gyllenhaal smut

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mortifiedandawesome · 11 months

Video

youtube

Neneh Cherry, The Ting Tings, David Bowie and Nirvana - A Buffalo Ting (...

#its because i dont have my full playlist hooked up #neneh cherry #the ting tings #david bowie #nirvana

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llyfrenfys · 3 months

Text

"Rule Britannia is out of bounds" - How England invented Great Britain

("Rule Britannia is out of bounds"- Life on Mars, David Bowie, 1971)

As promised, here is a more in-depth exploration of Wales' relationship to indigeneity or colonised status. And how England created the (political) concept of Great Britain when it formally annexed Wales in 1542. This is a long post but I will try and be brief where possible to do so. I graduated with a degree in Celtic Studies last year from Aberystwyth University so it's time to put that to use.

In my last post, I went over the groundwork for this conversation - so if you haven't read that one yet I strongly suggest you read that one first then come back to this one. In that first post, I establish the stickiness in claiming or applying the status of colonised onto the modern nation and people of Wales. I also explore how claims of indigeneity (intended to legitimise Welsh nativism through dubious claims of descent from the Iron Age Britons) are weaponised in modern political contexts.

With all that said - how does one categorise the suffering of Wales/its culture and language without straying into the language of the colonised?

Early Medieval English Imperial desire for Wales:

Very often, you will hear people make the claim that Wales was 'England's first colony' and that the other nations bordering England were guinea pigs for Britain's later colonial empire. My previous writing on this topic has established the difficulty in applying colonised as a term to Wales and its context. Which leads to the question of what do we describe it as instead?

For this, we need to make a distinction between colonialism and imperialism.

The two concepts are very similar (and do overlap slightly) but they have crucial differences which allow us to be more precise and succinct with our wording which aids both communication of the subject and quells misunderstanding through language which doesn't fit the situation.

Put simply, Imperialism is when one country, people or nation desires to extend power over another (usually a close-by or neighbouring territory) - especially (but not solely) through the means of expansionism.

Colonialism is also when a country, people or nation wants to extend power over another - but primarily through invasion and typically (but not always) against territories that are further afield and not immediate neighbours).

A lot of the way in which we view early British history in Wales is tinged with a kind of exceptionalism for what happened between England and Wales. Very often, what was done is framed as uniquely terrible for the time and held up as a poster child for the unique evil of England's expansionist desires. Yet all over Europe at the same time this was happening - other European nations and peoples were engaging in the same subjugator-subjugatee relationship. The exceptionalism present in framing Wales as uniquely suffering in this period is, unfortunately, borne out of the same British imperial culture which was thrust upon it and has become irrevocably entwined with culturally. It is a kind of British arrogance (which ironically crops up in anti-British arguments in Welsh independence activism) which presupposes nobody could have suffered the same or worse than they have, which demands the active ignorance of other, contemporary examples of that which they claim to oppose.

Wales was the first victim of English (later British) Imperialism - not its first colonial victim.

The build-up to and annexation of Wales by England:

Wales was annexed twice - once before the age of states and once shortly before that age dawned. The concept of states (as in, sovereign countries) didn't really exist until after the Treaties of Westphalia (1648). In which the concept of non-interference in the religious affairs of other countries (and other domestic affairs) was established and international relations was born. This is relevant to Wales' situation - as what England did to Wales happened long before the age of states began.

There was the Conquest of Wales by Edward I between 1277 and 1283. (Before that, the Norman Conquest of Wales by 1081). (However, the latter being conducted by the Normans is not necessarily equatable to the actions of England the country, which itself had only just been invaded by the Normans). And then the Laws in Wales Acts which formally incorporated Wales into the realm of the Kingdom of England in 1542.

The Conquest of Wales by Edward I overran the territories of the last Prince of Wales (from the Welsh monarchic tradition), Llywelyn the Last and divided the territories into Welsh Principalities and Marcher Lordships. This setup remained until 1542, when Henry VIII passed the Laws in Wales Acts and formally annexed Wales and made it (in all the legal senses) a part of England.

By the time international relations was in its infancy (i.e. shortly after the Peace of Westphalia) Wales had been absorbed into England for just over 100 years. The relevancy of this is that Westphalia had been about religious liberty - Henry VIII's incorporation of Wales into the Kingdom of England was partly informed by religion. Henry VIII had just broken away from Rome and established the Protestant Church of England, whereas Wales was still largely Catholic. The Laws in Wales Acts also replaced the language of the courts in Wales with English, cutting off monolingual Welsh speakers from legal representation. The language of worship became English instead of Latin. Wales was culturally assimilated into England over a long period of time. And that meant ensuring Wales followed the 'correct' religion and spoke the 'correct' language. After the Peace of Westphalia, these actions by Henry VIII to bend Wales to his new religion and to assimilate Wales into England would have been in poor taste or decried in light of the new Westphalian system that was developing in Europe. Alas, these events took place before then and temporally speaking, Wales was locked out of this recourse.

By contrast, Scotland was unified with England into the Kingdom of Great Britain in 1707 (after the Peace of Westphalia). England committed numerous acts of cultural erosion and destruction against Wales and Scotland at this time - but its Union with Scotland differs to that with Wales. Wales was incorporated into England, whereas Scotland was 'invited' to join a union between England (which then included Wales) and itself. Simplifying it greatly - like a marriage proposal in which the two spouses are *supposed* to be equals. After the Act of Union with Scotland, the whole island of Great Britain was 'unified' and thus the Kingdom of Great Britain was formed from two states - England (inc. Wales) and Scotland into one state.

Welsh Nationalism and Nationhood as separate from Statehood:

Wales and Scotland were the victims of English imperialism in many similar, but also many different ways.

Wales, having never been a 'state' was unable to acquire this status since it had long been incorporated into England by the time the concept of states had developed. Wales was unlucky in this way, because other nations on this island such as Scotland had managed to establish themselves long enough to survive into the age of states and thus became one. Because of this, Welsh nationalism cannot look to an era in which it was a free state because that did not happen. Instead, Welsh nationalism very often looks back with rose-tinted spectacles to Wales prior to Edward I's conquest and/or prior to Henry VIII's Laws in Wales Acts.

But nationhood and statehood are not the same thing - and it is the conflation of these two concepts (like the conflation of colonialism and imperialism) which has led to much of the confusion on these topics. Nationhood is acquired by a group of people who share several of these things: a common language, history, culture and (usually) territory. Not all of these things are required, but most nations have all or almost all of these qualities. Wales has a language (Welsh), a common history, culture and territory (Wales). Statehood is acquired by an association of people who have most or all of these things: formal institutions of government, laws, permanent territorial boundaries and sovereignty. Wales before 1283 very loosely had government and laws (monarchy and Laws of Hywel Dda) but had no permanent territory due to the conquest and lost some sovereignty in 1283 and total sovereignty in 1542.

Even if Wales had met all the criteria for a state in 1283, it would not have been eligible to become one - no nation in the world was able to do that yet because the concept (or proto-concept) for it would only be invented in 1648. Even England did not qualify for state status yet. Put simply, Wales got very unlucky with history and geography in such a way which prevented it from having a historical statehood post-1648 like neighbouring England and Scotland.

Naturally, when Welsh nationalism attempts to recall a past in which it was a 'state' - it is always an imagined and romanticised history. A fantasied history which generates ideas of the persecuted 'indigenous' Cymro where it shouldn't really be (in all seriousness, the injustices inflicted upon Wales by England are enough - extra additional injustices reliant upon a claim to to 'nativeness' do not need to be invented in order to be taken seriously). In the modern world, claims of nativeness in a European context are fraught, misguided, in poor taste and often copy the homework of the indigenous peoples those same European powers marginalised or colonised. In the modern world, a white Welshman claiming indigeneity is doing so in a postcolonial world and there really is no escaping that. Succinctly - the Welsh nationalist who relies upon a created sense of nativeness can only do so by drawing upon the work of marginalised native peoples living in parts of the world formerly colonised by Great Britain. To claim native status as a Welshman is to misunderstand and misappropriate history while wielding the language of the genuinely colonised while contributing nothing to it. It is purely extractive and a slap in the face of non-European native peoples everywhere. The pining for this return* to a prior point in Wales' history where it was a fully functional, sovereign nation populated only by 'native' or 'indigenous' Cymry is an alarming and ahistorical fantasy that all too easily slides into ethnonationalism and nativism -ancient or modern.

(*the choice of the word 'return' here is no accident - the desire to 'return' is inextricably linked to the alt-right dogwhistle 'retvrn' and it it is frighteningly common to see elements of that subculture crop up in Welsh nationalist calls to return to a point in Wales' history where it was 'sovreign'.)

Welsh nationalism which isn't vigilant to this kind of thinking very often will find itself arguing blatant untruths. For example, on the milder side of fake history, I've come across Welsh nationalist groups claiming symbolism from Owain ap Gruffydd's coat of arms - despite the fact he lived before the age of heraldry and he never used these arms because they were attributed to him later.

What next for Wales after 1542?:

Since Wales was fully and formally incorporated into the Kingdom of England by 1542, English colonisation of the Americas prior to 1707 naturally included Welsh colonists as well as English colonists. After 1707 Scots joined in with the now British colonisation of the Americas (both as/for/on the side of the Brits and as Scots fleeing Scotland after the Act of Union decimated Scottish Gaelic traditional culture). The Welsh, on the other hand, were more intimately involved with the colonisation of the Americas before that.

Though England spearheaded its colonisation of the Americas, Wales was not an unwilling participant dragged along by its association with and incorporation into England - Welsh colonisation, like Scottish colonisation, was often motivated by religious or cultural persecution - of which colonisation of another land was a possible solution to cultural loss in their home countries. Pennsylvania was settled by many Welsh Quakers and the idea of a Welsh Tract was floated to the Welsh settlers in 1684. The idea was to create a county which would operate in the Welsh language and serve as a vehicle for the preservation of the Welsh language. This attempt was not as successful as Wales' colony in Patagonia, Argentina in which native populations there were displaced at the behest of the Argentinian government - who needed the land settled and cleared. Welsh colonists took up this mantle and created Y Wladfa colony there in 1865.

Returning to the 17th Century - Welsh people were active colonists in the Americas during this time - motivated by saving the Welsh language and freedom of religion (especially the developing Nonconformist denominations of Protestant Christianity developing at this time). It was not so much that England was forcing Wales to participate in its colonialism, but that Wales has its own wants and ends for colonialism and was motivated entirely on its own grounds.

Back at home, Wales was still hard-done-by due to England - but two things can be true at once. Wales was a victim of English imperialism, but was also a perpetrator itself of colonial violence against Native Americans. England was no such victim of imperialism of any kind and the power dynamic for England had always been one rooted in absolute expansionism.

Summary and Conclusion:

With all of that said - if you were to ask point blank if I feel it is appropriate or okay for Wales to claim it was colonised by England and that Welsh people are in some way, more indigenous to the island than any other people living here - my answer would be no, I don't think it's okay.

I can't stop people from thinking otherwise, but I can reason that perhaps we shouldn't appropriate the struggles of people marginalised by the very nation we are talking about in order to craft a victimhood which is entirely unnecessary. Wales was a victim of English imperialism - but Wales was also an active colonising European nation. In the modern world, people are thankfully more willing to listen to the wants and needs of victims of colonialism - particularly victims of British colonialism in the Americas, Oceania and Asia. But I would warn against Welsh nationalism which seeks to capitalise on that increase in indigenous visibility in order to add legitimacy to itself (necessitating the crafting of an 'indigenous' narrative which did not exist there before). We live in the modern world where indigenous peoples are being taken more seriously than in centuries past - but that does not mean the only peoples hard-done by being taken seriously are colonised indigenous populations.

I believe it comes from a deep seated insecurity within Wales in which it is not uncommon to feel like Wales is being left behind because of all of this advancement. And this insecurity manifests as rejection of anything not obviously Welsh or demonstrably 'home-grown'. It's the national equivalent of a survival mechanism - but this is detrimental not only to the cause of Welsh nationalism, but to Wales itself. I've had people say to me (and I have read in historical sources from the last 100 years in Welsh) that the LGBTQ+ movement is actually an English invention created to erode Welsh traditional culture. Or variations on that rhetoric in which it is immigrants or other minorities which are made into this boogeyman come to destroy Wales and all Welsh ways of life. And it is so demonstrably not true but also bitter to see from the hearts and minds of my fellow Welsh speakers/Welsh people. Who have been hurt so much by the historical erosion of their culture that they confuse non-threats for threats and can only resolve to obtain some more legitimacy by appropriating the language of nativeness and colonisation in this ever changing world which, right now, is listening to native peoples for once.

It's difficult to put into words, even with all of the background knowledge above - but Wales is valuable and legitimate all on its own and doesn't need to rely upon things which isn't serving it - like ethnonationalism and nativism.

I want to live in a Wales which is uncompromising not only in its own fight for recognition and respect - but for other nations and peoples' fights for the same as well. I want to live in an independent Wales which is an ally to all those who share Wales' struggle and a Wales which rights the wrongs of its past without hesitation or compromise.

Would you rather a Wales for the few or a Wales for all who call it home?

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