#but i think i blocked him a long time ago

[unequivocallyreid]

Why Didn’t You Tell Me?

it has been SO long... i was suffering from serious writers block but it think i'm finally out of it :)

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer Reid used to be your best friend, but things changed. How long can you pretend that you don't love him before it ruins you?

warnings: angst! (with a happy ending), smut (unprotected piv), character loss, mention of Maeve, very sad Spencer, mental health struggles, light choking, fighting, slight praise kink

wc: 8.8k 🤗

i’m very proud of this one! i hope you love it!

Every morning when you wake up, you feel a familiar and creeping sort of dread in the pit of your stomach.

Don’t get the wrong idea; you love your job. You love helping people and stopping horrible people from ruining any more lives, but the creeping feeling and desire to get out is always in the corner of your mind. Anyone working in this field would tell you that. There’s no absolute separation between you and the victims and their families. You take all of them home with you, and you just have to learn how to deal with that and not let it eat at you.

It doesn’t help that it’s an isolating job as well. The last time you were in a serious relationship was in college. Now, every date you have ends in disappointment. Not only do you lack interest in most of the men and women, but it couldn’t go anywhere even if you did. 75% of your time is spent in the office, on a jet, or hundreds of miles away from your home.

All of this contributes to the feeling, but the worst part of your job is Dr. Spencer Reid.

He’s secretive and dismissive and just about the most attractive person you’d ever seen. You honestly don’t know what is worse: his constant physical presence in your life or the fact that you can’t stop thinking about him no matter what you do. You’ve tried to get over it; you’ve buried yourself in work, lamented to your friends, and gone out on dates (all with guys that looked vaguely similar), but nothing has worked. All his worst traits grate your nerves and light you up at the same time.

The worst part of it all is that it wasn’t always like this. When you first joined the BAU nearly two years ago, you and Spencer got along well. You were friends, he talked to you about his life, he understood you, and you really severely fell for him. He became your best friend.

Everything changed around six months ago. Spencer started to develop migraines, and as those developed, he started distancing himself from you. He became snippy and closed off, he started hiding things from you, and he stopped talking to you about life outside of Quantico. It was like overnight, you became nothing to him, and you really didn’t understand. Everyone else on the team got the same old Spencer, but you went from his right-hand man to someone he only spoke to when it was necessary.

Maybe he didn’t deserve to be vilified. You know, realistically, he can and should be able to decide who he wants to be close to, but working with a man who unknowingly broke your heart was close to the hardest thing you’d ever done. So, you decided hating him was easier. The real emotions you feel toward him sit somewhere inside you, but they have been covered by manufactured distaste. Addressing the actual feeling would hurt too bad, so you pretend to hate the things you used to love.

Nothing, however, could have prepared you for the last case you worked on: helping Spencer save a girl he met about six months ago, a girl he loved. You tried to stay collected, you said nothing when Spencer assisted when he shouldn’t have, and goddamn, did you do everything in your power to find that girl. Maeve. She was perfect for Spencer, and you saw that immediately. Everyone did. The sight of him sobbing in front of her body is one that will never leave your mind.

Now, two weeks later, no one has heard from Reid. The only indication that he hasn’t abandoned his life altogether is the absence of the gift baskets on his doorstep that Pen leaves daily.

Nearly everyone has been to his apartment, but they are met with a closed door and have yet to receive a response. Everyone but you.

Penelope is the first to bring up your lack of appearance at the end of a long day of paperwork.

“Y/n, please, you just have to try. No one is getting anything from him.”

“I really don’t think my presence would do any good,” you pause for a moment, trying to collect the thoughts running through your head like a freight train. “Me and him haven’t been close in a long time, Pen.”

Before you can continue, she cuts in, “Everyone has tried, Y/n. Hell, I’ve even considered tracking down Gideon, and I really, really do not want to do that.”

She pauses for a moment before looking up at you with a pout on her face, “Please, Y/n, for me. I can’t bear the thought of him in there all alone, just wasting away in grief.”

For someone who claims not to be a profiler, Penelope knew exactly what to say to get you to agree. She’s the only person in your life who you told about how you felt, though you’re sure everyone else (aside from Spencer) knew: you’re shit at keeping secrets.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try.”

She nearly bursts with excitement, “Thank God-“

You cut her off before she can finish, “But I’m telling you, I’m not the person he wants to hear from right now. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Yes, yes. I just want him to know we all want him to be okay.”

Before you can hurry out of the office to follow Pen’s instructions, she stops you and hands you a basket full of assorted snacks and fruits.

“Make sure he eats!”

The walk up to Spencer’s apartment is a hard one to take. The smell of his building hits you as soon as you step into the lobby. From there, everything rushes back at once. Memories of nights you spent watching reruns of Doctor Who or listening to him prattle off about whatever he last read assault you with every step. As you slowly make your way up, you start to question why you agreed to do this in the first place.

You feel a lot toward Reid. More than you should and less than you could. But all that care and feelings that are so close to love aren’t enough to make you forget why you’ve been trying to hate him for so long. He deserted you without an explanation and cut you off without a warning. You spent weeks (three months) crying over him like a love-struck teen. So, as much as you want to hold him and comfort him, you know it’ll hurt you to do so. Penelope sent you, with the whole team’s approval, you’re sure, to try to patch up a broken heart he got loving someone else. There’s a sickness in your gut, but it’s not enough to stop you from rapping your knuckles against his door.

“Spencer? It’s Y/n.”

There’s no response.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now, but I want to make sure you’re alright. Can you tell me you’re alright?”

Again, nothing.

You know he’s there. Despite your lack of communication, you know Spencer well enough to know that he would never leave his life behind entirely. That being said, your next few attempts at garnering a response are unsuccessful.

You decide to try one final time before just leaving the basket alone on his doorstep and texting Pen it was a bust.

“There’s a lot I don’t know about you now, and I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling.”

You don’t exactly know where this is headed, but you continue on regardless.

“I know you’re in there, and I know you can hear me, and I know you’re hurting. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you to be alone right now, Spence. You can either unlock your door, or I can pick it, but I’m coming in one way or the other. You know I will.”

You wouldn’t, actually. It’s a last-ditch effort, and it’s met with the same silence you’ve heard on the other side for the past ten minutes. You’re about to turn to head back down the stairs when you hear the very faint sound of a deadbolt turning.

There’s no other sound or movement, and for a moment, you think you might’ve imagined the sound, but you try the handle anyway. It turns, and the door slides open. You take a step in.

“Spencer,” you call out to him.

You don’t see him at first in the mess of his apartment, but when you do, you feel a crack form in your heart.

Beyond the clutter of his entryway, you see his back on the couch. His frame looks smaller than you’ve ever seen it, and you can see his legs curled into his chest. You set down the gift basket by a collection of others on the entry table and walk over to him. Slowly, like you’re trying not to spook a lost dog, you creep in front of him.

His head is down, and his gaze stays trained on his knees.

You reach out your hand and lay it over his. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.

“Spence, I’m so glad you opened the door.”

You didn’t plan out what you would say, but ‘sorry’ feels redundant and useless.

You go on, “I’m here. I- I don’t know what to do or say, and I’m sorry that I don’t. I can get someone else for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

You wait for him to say he wants Penelope or JJ, but it doesn’t come. Nothing comes. You start to move to get up, figuring you could clean up a bit and try to make him something to eat, then go, but he grasps your arm before you can.

He looks up at you, and his eyes hit you right in the gut. They’re bloodshot and sunken but still beautiful.

“Stay. Please. I just- I need to know I’m not dreaming. I keep thinking I’m dreaming.”

His voice is croaky from disuse and breaks at the end, but it’s so heartbreakingly earnest that you feel your breath catch. You move from your crouch and sit beside him on the couch; your hand is still in his.

You stay like that for a long time. His breathing is shakey and uneven, and every so often, his body shakes with what you can only assume are sobs. You stay pressed to his side the whole time, thumb rubbing back and forth over his hand.

Eventually, you speak again, “I’m gonna get you some food, Spence. You should eat.”

He says nothing back, but he does loosen his grip. You push yourself up from the coach with a promise you’ll be as fast as possible.

His kitchen is nearly empty, and you hope he’s been eating from the baskets. Still, you find enough to make noodles and butter, and you figure the carbs should help his energy some.

You return with the bowl. Spencer hasn’t moved, but his head follows you as you walk back over to him.

“It’s not fine dining.”

He studied you for a second, and you catch a glimpse of the old him in his eye.

“You did the same thing when I was sick on a case a year ago.”

You smile at his recollection.

“It helped you then.”

The rest of the night is spent mostly in silence. Occasionally, you tell him something to try to remind him that you’re there and that you won’t leave as long as he wants you there. Eventually, you get up from the couch again.

“Spencer, it’s too late to still be awake.”

He nods and still says nothing, but he is far more receptive than before. You reach your hand out to him to help him up from the couch, and he takes it.

He leads you to his room at a slow pace. His head stays down as you both take a seat on his bed, hands still interlocked. Being in his bedroom is odd for you. You’ve been to his apartment quite a few times before he disappeared from your life, but you never breached this space. It’s all very him. Almost surprisingly cozy, with books scattered around nearly everywhere there’s space.

You take in the moment for a beat before saying, “I’m gonna head home, Spencer, but please call me if you need anything at all. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

This makes his head snap up, and his eyes lock with yours.

“Please stay.”

That’s all he says, but every part of him is pleading with you. It’s not a good idea, and you know it. You’re the only person he’s seen in days, you aren’t close anymore, and you don’t particularly want to sleep on a couch tonight.

“Spencer, I don’t want to sleep in your living room tonight. I’ll come back.”

He pauses for a moment, “You can stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

Your heart cracks again. There was a time when this was all you wanted. It’s still, deep down, all you want, just not like this. You know he doesn’t really want you there and he’s not himself. But you aren’t strong enough to say no, so you don’t.

He gets you clothes to wear, and you change in his bathroom. You come out and find him in his bed, laying with his back to you. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you get into bed next to him anyways. There are a thousand thoughts racing through your head, but the prevailing one is how badly you want to touch him, to hold him, to make him forget, just for the night. You stay still, though, confined to the edge of the bed and start to count to drown out the noise.

Though, you can’t drown out his voice, saying, “Can- Could you hold me? I think that everything feels better when you touch me.”

Another crack. By the end of this, you know Spencer Reid is going to break your heart all over again.

~

When you wake up the next morning, Spencer is still asleep. You sneak out of his room and call Hotch. When he answers, you tell him Spencer has let you in, and you ask for time off to try to help. You can tell from his voice that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he grants you it anyway.

Much of your day is spent like the night before. You stay next to Spencer, and you cook for him after leaving to pick up clothes and groceries. Then, you get him to shower and wash his hair. He sleeps with his head in your lap, and you feel like a fucking idiot at first, but as long as it’s helping him in some way, you let it happen.

That’s the thing: you don’t really know how to help him. You know he isn’t the type to talk about something until he is entirely ready, so all you can do is add something domestic and bright to his life while he grieves. It’s all you can think about in the moments of silence. Hell, you even read to him to try and get your mind off of it, but it barely helps.

The night is the same. You change in different rooms and slip into his bed at different times. You feel dirty for imagining what it would be like if the circumstances were different: if he wanted you like you have wanted him for the past two years. You hold him against you, and you pray for sign that you should be there.

The sign comes the following morning when Derek calls you.

“Y/n…”

You can hear his teasing tone over the phone.

“Hi, Derek.”

“What are you doing, mamas?”

You sigh, “What do you mean?”

You’re playing coy. You know he’s wondering why you’re at Spencer’s house, picking up the pieces, but you won’t be the one to bring it up.

“Why’d you ask Hotch for the week off, Y/n?”

Another sigh, “You know why, Derek. I just, I want to help him.”

“I know you do, Y/n, I know.”

He pauses for a moment, and you let the moment fill with silence.

“I know you care about him. We all care about him. But who is taking care of you?”

“I am. I can take care of him, and I can take care of me.”

“I know you can, but I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/n. Don’t let this be something that hurts you.”

“It won’t. I- You have to- Fuck, I’ll be fine. He’s not fine. I don’t care about me or any feelings that may get hurt right now. I’ll be fine.”

There’s another bear of silence, “Okay, Y/n. Just know you’re allowed to tap out.”

You try to think of anything else to say, but nothing comes, so you say your goodbyes.

You won’t need to tap out. You can take care of him and be good to him and ignore the other feelings you have. You can be good.

The call does make you think it’s time to push, to try harder, to help him get better. So, you approach him that day before bed, before he tucks himself into your arms and falls into a fretful sleep.

“Spencer?”

He takes a moment and then responds, “Yes?”

“You have to talk about it. I think that you need to talk about it. It doesn’t have to be to me but to someone.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and your breath is caught in your throat, waiting for him to say anything.

“I- I don’t want to,” his voice cracks while he says it.

“Spence, you can’t come back if you don’t. You can’t move forward if you don’t.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

A ringing echos in your ears.

“You don’t mean that. She- she would want you to keep going.”

Wrong thing to say.

“You don’t know anything about what she would want.”

He’s seething now, below the surface, but smoke has started to plume from his ears. Still, you don’t stop.

“Spencer, everyone knows that. No one would want you to put your life on hold.”

He speaks his next line through his teeth, “You don’t know anything, Y/n.”

You’ve never heard him sound so angry.

“Spencer-“

“No, just stop. You don’t know her. You don’t know me half as well as you think you do. You don’t know anything. I don’t even know why you’re here. I don’t want you here. You can't be what I need.”

The ringing in your ears is louder.

“Spencer, please. Just-“

“No!” His voice is raised now, bordering on a yell, “I don’t want you here. I want you out, Y/n.”

This has to be what shell shock feels like. The ringing, the tingle in your limbs, and the heat in your face. You don’t know how you are moving, but you are.

His voice is echoing in your head, or maybe he’s still talking, but you can’t tell either way. The only thing you can focus on is how Spencer sounded like he hates you and that Morgan was right about the hurt.

~

You spend the next day trying desperately to shut down the noise in your head. It doesn’t work. The day after is the same. And the days following that. You ignore calls when they come, you ignore the texts, but you can’t stop looking at your phone for a message from the man who fills your thoughts.

Spencer doesn’t call, obviously, and you have to sit with a pit in your stomach while you beg yourself to just get the fuck over it. Two years of reckoning with the severity of your love, months of watching him live happily without you, and it’s the three days you spent trying to help him feel incrementally better that floor you.

You feel like a dumb teenage girl with so much love and nothing to do with it. On top of everything, you feel selfish. Spencer lost the love of his life forever, and you’re nursing the worst heartbreak of your life because a boy will never want you and never has. Still, you send out prayers for him over and over. You hope you’ll see him in the BAU again, even if his eyes glaze over you. Hell, even if they look at you with hate the way they did two days ago. You just want him to function. You want him to be good and eventually be happy. You try to go to bed with soothing thoughts, but you end up with a mantra of his name.

You wake to your alarm and dress for work before you realize you aren’t actually supposed to go back yet. You never set a date to return. You wanted to be open as long as Spencer needed you. You’re supposed to be with him. You’re supposed to be helping and not tapping out. But you aren’t.

You have no reason not to return to the bullpen, so you do. You walk in and feel eyes on you. You wait for Morgan to call out to you, but he doesn’t, so you follow the feeling.

Your breath catches in your throat; it’s Spencer. He’s sitting at his desk, paperwork spread out, and he doesn’t look away from your gaze; he just holds it. His face is unreadable, and yours is definitely not, so you look away first. You don’t look up again until you reach Hotch’s office. You knock and hear him call out to come in.

“I’m back if that’s okay.”

He looks up at you, and you want to cry. You know he can read you. He has always been the best at it.

“Are you okay with that, Y/l/n?”

You lock eyes with him, “Yes, sir.”

It’s no use; he knows your tells and you aren’t being honest.

“Alright, conference room in five.”

Whatever he sees in your face, he ignores and takes you at your word, but there’s a warning in his tone. He knows when to let things go and when to push. More than that, though, he knows you’d never let something like this affect your work.

~

The first case back is in Maryland, and the one after is in Austin, and the next is in Philadelphia with The Replicator. The job takes you all over the country, and the cases blend together. You don’t speak to Spencer through all of it. You’re never partnered, never work together, you sit on opposite ends of the jet. You don’t even speak at Strauss’ funeral. It’s radio silent, and everyone notices it, but no one brings it up.

In that time, you allow yourself to slip away slightly. You don’t go out with the team, you see Pen at nearly half frequency, and basically, the only time you speak is on cases. It’s stupid and melodramatic, but you call it healing. Derek tries to reason with you, JJ sticks to you a bit more than usual, and Penelope calls you virtually whenever she can, but their efforts are mostly in vain. This is your way of protecting yourself. You feel like you have to isolate in order to improve, and you know, given time, you will come back to yourself.

Penelope’s insistence that you go to her Day of the Dead celebration breaks your distance.

“Y/n, please come. I know you aren’t going out, but you have to. I know you have people to honor, and I need you there.”

You sigh, “Whose going, Pen?”

“The team, which you are a part of, so you must be there.”

“I don’t think I can do that. I promise you I will celebrate with you. I’ll help you set up, just please don’t make me go.”

Penelope pauses, but the glint in her eye keys you into the fact that she is not interested in giving up.

“We miss you, Y/n. Everyone loves you and misses you. You’ve been living this stupid, isolated life, and it’s time for you to come back. You are not this person. I refuse to believe it. You’re coming, and that’s final.”

Maybe you don’t have the energy to argue, or maybe you know she’s right, but you agree to go.

~

The thought of seeing him makes your heart race, and the clock you keep glancing at makes it worse. Just a few more hours before you're trapped in a confined space (Pen’s beautiful home) with a man you haven’t spoken to in weeks.

You busy yourself with preparing. Lights are hung, food is made, and you make a trip to the store while Pen sets up her remembrance table. When everything is said and done, you can’t help but feel this is the most beautiful thing you’ve been a part of in a long time.

The first knock comes at 7:30 exactly, and it’s Hotch and Rossi. They are followed closely by Blake, then Derek and JJ. By 7:00, the atmosphere is light and loving, and you feel a bit of your anxiety let up as the minutes go by without Reid. But, eventually, the knock comes, of course it does, and you move into a corner as Spencer walks in. You feel a shift in energy, though you doubt it’s palpable for anyone else. Rossi is the first to make his way over to you, and his presence comforts you nearly immediately.

“How you doing, kid?” His voice is soft like he’s speaking to a scared rabbit.

“I’m better,” you say, and it’s about as honest as you can get. As much as you’d like to think he knows nothing about what’s gone on, you’re smarter than that. He’s the best profiler on the team, and he’s always known when someone was off with you. Even so, you are better than you were, even if you aren’t quite good, and you know he believes you.

There’s some idle conversation between you before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not tonight. I don’t know when, but I will. Eventually, I will.”

It’s good enough for him, and you move on easily, which surprises you.

Right before Pen gathers you all to present your photos, he says, “Sometimes we think we’ve seen the whole picture, but we miss a big part. People do things because they don’t want to be hurt, but those things hurt them more. Just, be open.”

You don’t quite understand what he means, but you hope you will.

Penelope presents the first picture, which shows her parents. JJ honors her sister, Derek, his dad, Hotch Haley, and Rossi, Hernandez; then it’s your turn. You place down a photo of your best friend. You hadn’t talked much about her, but you think of her daily. She passed a few years before you joined the BAU.

“I was lucky to have someone that hurt that much to lose.”

That’s all you say, but it’s enough for you, and it would be enough for her.

Spencer is last. He places down a picture of Tesla and a picture of Maeve. Your heart is heavy for everyone.

The night dwindles from there. Hotch and Rossi say their goodbyes, and Rossi gives you a knowing look as he leaves. You just smile. You stay for a few minutes after, but eventually, you move to leave as well.

You make it down Garcia’s porch before you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn, and it’s Spencer’s face you see.

“Would you- Do you think you could come over? Do you think we could talk?”

~

The feeling you have walking up to Spencer's apartment is similar to what you felt the last time. You’re incredibly anxious, but at least you know you’ll be let in this time.

The drive over was silent. Spencer had taken the metro to Penelope’s, so he rode with you. It wasn’t necessarily awkward. There was just an understanding that the car wasn’t the place to begin your conversation.

Now, as Spencer unlocked his door, it’s one of those rare moments you felt starved for words, and you know it’s because you’re scared you’ll say the wrong thing and face the same reaction that you did the last time you were in his home.

He leads you to his living room and motions for you to sit, and you do. The two of you are on opposite ends of his couch while you wait for him to say something.

His first words are airy and light, “Thank you for letting me talk to you.”

You look at him but remain silent, waiting for him to go on. All you can think about is why he wants to speak to you at all. The last time you spoke, he made it incredibly clear he did not want you in his life or around him at all.

Before you can think about it more and let your anger and sadness build, he speaks again, “I feel really stupid right now. I kind of feel stupid whenever I’m around you recently.”

He pauses momentarily before going on, “I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. About the last time we spoke. I’ve been thinking about it pretty constantly for the past few weeks.”

You open your mouth, unsure of what exactly to say, but you can’t get there before he’s off again.

“I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore. I don’t think I’ve known how to for a long time. I just, I need you to know how sorry I am for speaking to you like that.”

He takes a shakey breath but keeps going, “That wasn’t me, and that isn’t how I feel. I’m just unbelievably sorry, Y/n.”

He stops there, and you work to collect your thoughts.

“I know. A part of me knows, at least, that you didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be there for you, and hearing that made me- I just- I think it made me hate myself for wanting to be there.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m unbelievably sorry.”

“You didn’t talk to me for months, Spencer. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you let me in in the first place. I thought you hated me.”

He’s silent for a long minute.

“I never hated you, Y/n. I just stopped knowing how to act around you, and then I met Maeve. I fell so deep into it that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I- And I just started to feel like you didn’t want me to speak to you, so I didn’t. But, when you came here, after everything, I guess I just felt like you were the only person who would get it. You never, no one on the team ever treated me or talked to me how you did. I just wanted that.”

Tears had begun to well in your eyes now. A part of you gets what he means, at least about letting you in, but the other part is so confused as to why he stopped being comfortable around you.

“I don’t understand, Spencer. Why did you stop knowing how to be around me?”

There’s desperation in your voice that makes you sound like a stranger to yourself. Maybe you’re a stranger to everyone right now.

“I uh, I don’t really know.”

“That's not fair, Spence.”

You’re crying now. Just a little bit, but you can feel the wetness on your cheeks. You can see that you are by the look on his face. He looks broken, and you know it's a reflection of your own image.

You wipe your face, “Thank you for apologizing, Spencer. I just, there are parts of this all that I don’t understand, and if you can't explain them to me, I don’t think I ever will.”

“Y/n-,” he calls out your name like a prayer.

“It’s okay, Spence. You don’t have to say anything more. We talked, and things will go back to how they were eventually.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

You smile sadly as you get up to leave.

“I am, too, for what it's worth. For whatever I did to make things change in the first place.”

You leave it at that, and it takes everything in you not to look back as you leave his apartment.

~

Things do get easier after that. Not completely. You still love him, and it hurts, but it helps to know he doesn’t hate you. He talks to you some, cordial things, and you do the same. You're sure your teammates still sense something is off, but this works for you. Right now, it works. Getting over him, not loving him anymore, is going to take work, but eventually, you know that you won’t hurt anymore.

Shortly after you and him talked, you started going back out with your friends. Spencer joined periodically, but that was normal. Bars were never really his scene.

Tonight, everyone gathers at your local pub. Your last case was particularly grueling, and you all need a way to blow off some steam. It's fun, and you feel good, even with Spencer sitting across from you. You feel proud of yourself for getting to this point.

JJ and Penelope feed you drinks to try and get you to dance, and you let them. Tonight feels as good of a night as any to ‘get back out there’ as Pen says. So, you do. You dance with them, and you ward off the other cops and agents around you who try to pull you away from your group. You aren’t interested in that. Right now, you're just having an appropriate amount of fun for a woman 15 feet from her boss.

Time goes by quickly, and by the time you get back to the table, you, Derek, Penelope, and JJ remain. He tells you that Hotch, Rossi, Reid, and Alex left a few minutes before. The conversation between you flows for a while, up until the drinks loosen Penelope up enough to bring up what you were pretty sure the team designated a no-no topic.

“Y/n, you have to talk about it.”

You’re still laughing as something Derek said when you reply, “What?”

“You know what. You and Boy-Genius. What on Earth happened? You went from ice-cold to semi-friendly. None of us saw it coming.”

“Babygirl-,” Derek tries to stop her, but you cut him off.

“No, it’s okay. I have to talk about it at some point, and I think right now is the only time I’ll be tipsy enough to let you get it out of me.”

You're still laughing slightly, but the pit that's lived in your stomach for the past few months starts to rear its head.

“After your Day of the Dead party, he asked to talk to me. I went to his place, and he apologized. I don’t really understand what he said or what he meant, but I can’t be sad about him forever.”

Pen perks up a bit at that, “I knew that party would bring good things!”

You giggle a bit at her outburst, but then JJ asks, “What did he say?”

The faces around you all tune in at that. You know they don’t see this as gossip. They care about you both too much to trivialize it like that.

“He just said that he stopped knowing how to act around me, and he didn’t know why, but then he met Maeve, and I guess it didn’t matter so much after that. He was my best friend, and then he was nothing.”

JJ shares a glance with Derek and then speaks, “Oh, Y/n.”

“What?”

After a beat, Derek says, “He didn’t just not know how to act around you.”

Now you're confused, “What do you mean? I talked to him, that's what he said. He didn’t know why. I mean, he knows everything and didn’t know why he didn’t want to be around me anymore. How fucking stupid is that.”

You laugh again, but it does come off as genuine in the slightest.

“Y/n, he probably doesn’t really know why. At least not fully. For someone as smart as he is, the kid can be really stupid.”

“Stop being cryptic.”

Derek sighs but goes on, “Pretty girl, pretty boy was in love with you. Probably still is. He just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same.”

“No. That's not true.”

You look at the others around you, but their faces are serious.

“He loved Maeve. He loves Maeve. That, that doesn’t make any sense.”

It's JJ’s turn to talk now.

“He definitely did love Maeve, no one is denying that, but we all saw how he was around you. His whole relationship with her was safe. He couldn’t be hurt by her rejection every day because he had no way of seeing her. With you, he could.”

Your mind is moving a mile a minute, “Did he tell you guys this?”

Penelope puts her hand over yours and says, “He didn’t have to, love. We all say the way he looked at you and acted around you. The way he talked about you. That boy was head over heels.”

“Guys, I appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but this isn’t real. Spencer doesn’t- this is not real.”

“Y/n, pause. Think about the way he acted around you, the things he said. Think about how Reid is.”

You hear what Derek said, but it all sounds faint like someone stuffed your ears with cotton while you weren't paying attention. All you can focus on are the different scenes running through your head, the scenes of your life with Spencer in it. How he memorized your coffee order and brought it for you every day, how he never shied away from your touch despite his aversion to contact, how he consistently went out of his way to protect you on the field. At his house after everything, the way he clung to you and wanted to be held. How he said in his own words, “You can't be what I need”; not “you aren’t,” but “you can’t.”

Your whole world is crashing down in this bar, and you can’t do anything to stop it.

“Y/n?”

JJ’s voice snaps you out of your spiral.

“Just go talk to him.”

You nod mutely, and you get up.

~

Everything in the last ten months of your life has led you to the exact spot you were when everything blew up in the first place: Spencer’s door.

This time, you aren't too worried about him not letting you in. If anything, it's the opposite. Him opening this door could open a hundred others, and you don’t quite know if you are ready for any of them. You sit there and sit there and sit there, trying to work up the courage to knock, though you aren’t sure it's there to begin with. Right as you're about to walk away and decide you’ll come back another day, his door swings open.

“Y/n?”

His face is lit up with shock, and you notice his hand that is not on the door is holding his pistol.

“What are you doing here?”

You don’t answer, “Why did you open the door?”

He sets his piece down on the entry table before responding, “I heard footsteps in the hall and saw they stopped here. I was anxious. 50.3% of home invasions happen between 8:00 pm and 7:00 am.” He cuts himself off there, “Y/n, why are you here?”

You didn’t pay attention to anything he said. All you could think about was the way his lips were moving and the way his eyes locked onto yours as he talked.

“Do you love me?”

That is not what you wanted to say.

His lips fall open as he takes in a sharp breath, “What?”

“Or I guess did you love me? Before everything? Because Derek and JJ and Pen, they all said that you loved me, and now I can’t think about anything else, Spencer.”

He doesn’t speak, but you don't really give him a chance to.

“I just, I know I sound crazy right now, but I feel fucking crazy. I keep going over everything in my head, and I have been, for the past year I have been, but now it’s all different. It's all different because they said that you loved me, but you didn’t think I’d feel the same way.”

Here, you do pause, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you go on before you can stop yourself.

“Because if that's true, Spencer, it's just- I did. I do. And if it's not, then please just tell me so I can stop feeling this way.”

He sounds resigned when he says, “Y/n,” and you feel like you know what that means.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I'm doing this. You don’t have to say anything. Actually, please don’t say anything. I don't think I can hear it. Just pretend I never-”

He cuts off your ramble, “Y/n, stop.”

You draw your eyes from the floor, look up at him, and find something in his gaze you have never seen before. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you, and it takes everything you have not to look away. His hand raises to cup your jaw, and your skin lights on fire. Before you can process what he’s doing, you feel his lips press against yours, and something clicks. At first, his touch is light, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. But, when he grasps that you won’t, he presses himself to you harder, and all you can think about is how nothing has ever felt so right.

His lips move against yours, and you don’t know how you're managing to reciprocate because it feels like everything in your body has gone fuzzy. The kiss is by no means long, but it feels like it lasts forever, and by the time he pulls away, you’re breathless.

His forehead stays connected to yours, and he whispers, “I do, Y/n, love you. I have.”

You don’t feel the tears on your cheeks until he’s wiping them away.

“Oh, Y/n.”

“Did you know? That you did? Is that why…”

You trail off, hoping he’ll pick up on what you're asking, and he does.

“I didn’t at first, or I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you until it happened. I got scared, so I ran. I just never thought that you could feel the same or that I was hurting you. I didn’t realize that. I just thought I was doing what was best for us. I felt guilty for being in love with my best friend.”

“And Maeve?”

“I loved Maeve. I’ll always have love for her. I was trying to move on, and I thought I could eventually be with her and be around you without it hurting. I wish I would have told you this before.”

“You’re telling me now. That's enough.”

This time, it's you who pushes your lips to meet his. Your arms snake around his neck, and his fall to your waist. You follow when he pulls you into his apartment and closes the door. There is still pain on both sides, but you can feel it dissipating as you cling to each other. You’re just two broken people who have finally found a way to each other.

This kiss is different, hungrier. Neither of you pulls away for longer than a few seconds as you navigate your way from his entryway to his couch. Every touch is desperate like you're searching for something you never knew existed until now. His hands pull you closer and closer until he's pulling you on top of him, and each of your legs rests on opposite sides of his hips.

Your lips break from his for a moment, “What do you want, Spence?”

His reply is instant, “You.”

From there, things move faster. Your hands unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders while he undoes your pants. There are moments of awkwardness that come with exploring another for the first time, but it feels good. His hands trace over your hips and push further until you're left on top of him in only your underwear and bra. He takes you in like you are something to be marveled at, and you know your eyes reflect the same adoration.

You raise yourself off of him and work to get him in the same state of undress as you, and when you position yourself on top of him, you feel his length press against your center. The two thin layers of fabric do little to hinder the intensity as you rock into him. He lets out quiet moans at the action as his lips trace down your neck and over your collarbone.

His breath ghosts over you and makes you shiver when he asks, “Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

His hand moves between the two of you, and his fingers find your clit easily, rubbing circles over the fabric of your panties. You pant his name against his lips at the action. You feel like your whole body is lit up, and under any other circumstance, you'd feel embarrassed at how worked up you are, but you can’t seem to care.

After a few moments, he lifts you up and carries you to his bedroom. From there, he positions you below him on the bed, removing your remaining clothes in the same motion. The new setup lets you grip him, and he feels big in your hand. His fingers resume their previous assault before dipping down into you. You cry out at the feeling of him inside you, slowly pushing in and out, finding a spot that makes your legs start to shake. He’s relentless in his pursuit and all you can muster up the energy to say is his name.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

It's somewhere between a whimper and a whisper, but the sound of his voice causes you to clench around his fingers.

He picks up on this, of course he does, and quickens his pace as he coos at you.

“So pretty like this. I’m so lucky.”

You’re embarrassingly close already, so when he moves his thumb over your clit to rub circles as he fucks into you with his fingers, you come undone almost instantly with a warning and cry of his name. He works you through your orgasm, all while whispering praise in your ear. Once you come down from your high, you start to push his boxers down his legs, but he stops you before you can fully.

“We don’t have to do anything more, Y/n. I liked just making you feel good.”

“I want more. I want to feel you if you want that too.”

“Of course I do. I just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I couldn’t regret this, Spencer. I love you. I want all of you.”

It's the first time you’ve actually said those three words to him, and it feels so fucking good to say.

“I love you, too. God, so much.”

With that, he positions himself back on top of you, running his fingers over your slit gently before gripping himself.

“Do you have a condom?”

“I might somewhere, but I have an IUD, and I’m clean. I can try to find one if you’re more comfortable with that?”

“IUDs have a failure rate of around .05% and are largely considered the most effective form of birth control, so uh, as long as you're okay with it, I am.”

You smile to yourself at his statistic but nod, “I want to feel you, Spencer.”

He returns your smile before rubbing his length over your entrance a few times and slowly pushing himself into you just slightly. He teases you, or maybe himself, for a moment before fully entering you. You push your hips up to meet his, and feeling him in his entirety makes your jaw fall open. He’s big, and you feel unbelievably full.

He waits a moment for you to adjust before he starts to develop a rhythm. His hands are everywhere, but his eyes are focused solely on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a moment of your reaction to him inside of you. To be fair, you are probably putting on a good show. Every movement he makes hits you in exactly the right spot, and you don’t think you could be louder if you tried. You can feel the leg he’s not holding up against his shoulder shake against the bed. Your first orgasm has made way for your second to be incredibly close.

“Spencer, please.”

You’re crying out, desperate for a little more to push you over the edge.

“What do you need, baby?” His voice is tight like he’s not far himself, and it sounds better than anything you’ve ever heard.

“Harder. Please, harder.”

He takes your direction immediately, rubbing circles on your clit with one hand while he thrusts into you with a bruising force. He’s fucking you like he wants you to remember the feeling long after he stops, and you know that you will. Everything about it is overwhelming: his smell, his pace, his eyes. You are covered in him, and he is covered in you.

After a moment, the hand he had on your stomach trails up to grasp lightly at your throat, and you fall into feeling. You can’t warn him that you're about to come before you do. The feeling is white hot. Bigger than your first, and the fact that you're coming on him sends you into overdrive. You can feel his hips falter for a moment, but you're lost in a daze, crying out his name.

He pumps into you a few more times before he follows suit. He pulls out, and you feel stripes of his come paint your cunt and lower stomach as he finishes with a moan of your name.

He falls next to you on the bed, and it takes you both a few moments to collect yourselves and catch your breath.

Once you do, the only thing you can think to say is, “I love you.”

It feels like those are the only words circling around in your head at the moment. Some mixture of his name and that declaration. While you know you each said it before, that your profession was the exigence of the sex you just had, it feels uniquely vulnerable to say now. It’s like the moment you just had together could have changed things or made him realize that he doesn’t actually love you after all.

That shoe doesn’t drop, though. Instead, you hear the three words echoed back to you by a man who, 6 hours ago, you thought would never, ever say them.

You turn to face him, and the love on his face feels like it could knock you out. He’s looking at you and smiling in a way you haven't seen in a long time.

“Will you let me clean you up?”

You know that part of the reason he’s asking has something to do with the likelihood of bacteria growth or something like that, but you think it's mainly that he wants to take care of you. Him wetting a rag and running it over you feels intimate in a different way, in an excruciatingly gentle way. Personal in a way that makes you feel like nothing between you could ever be wrong again, and maybe that's naive to think, but you feel hopeful regardless.

Once he finishes, he takes his space back next to you in the bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms, and it's different than it was all those months ago. This time, you know that he won’t push you away and that you won't hurt yourself by being next to him. This time, you just tuck yourself into him, and you let him whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you begin to drift off. This time, it feels like peace.

~

The following day, you wake up to Spencer still next to you, looking incredibly soft in the early morning light. You search for a moment to find your phone in the piles of clothes and are greeted with a text from Pen.

How did it go????

You smile before turning your phone off and climbing back into bed next to the man you love. It couldn’t have gone better.

-

all done! yay!!!

i hope you guys love it!! i’m not 100% happy with the ending but i’ve been writing this for so long and just needed to be done.

this is my first time writing angst on here and my longest fic, so PLEASE tell me what you think! all (nice) feedback is welcome and i love to hear from you guys!! :)

[brickmvster]

An Old Flame (Leon Kennedy x Reader)

Synopsis: After getting hammered at a club in attempts to repair a broken heart, in your drunken stupor, you call the one person you were trying to get over. He takes you back to his place, taking care of you, and it's then you realize that your feelings for him never quite dissipated.

Tags: breaking up and making up/exes to lovers, angst, fluff, a little bit of emotional hurt/comfort that goes both ways, reconciliation

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of alcohol consumption

Word Count: 6,311

Author's Note: I'm alive 😭 writer's block sucks, but I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things, I think. I hope you guys enjoy this!! Notes and reblogs are appreciated of course. This has been proofread, but if any mistakes still managed to slip by me, apologies in advance, they're all mine.

I imagined RE4R Leon while writing this but please feel free to imagine any version of him you'd like!

(Read on AO3)

Sobbing in a dirty bathroom stall was definitely not how you envisioned your Friday night going.

The fact that you were also considerably drunk and could feel the liquid sloshing around inside of your belly, threatening to come up your throat and all over the floor, certainly didn't make matters any better.

You had come to the club with a group of friends who were all far more enthusiastic than you to be there. You never considered yourself much of a party person; and if you were going to attend a party, it was always a small one with people that you knew or were at least acquaintances with. At a dingy nightclub, you were surrounded by hundreds of sweaty strangers, and the music was so loud that you were sure you were going to be temporarily deaf for a while. To make the long story short – you weren't looking forward to coming here, but you regrettably let your friends drag you out of the comfort of your home.

The stupid leather pants your friends insisted you wore were feeling too tight. The bathroom was so stuffy and unbearably hot. There were two individuals in the stall next to you engaging in… a certain activity that you really didn't want to be around to hear. And the awful, terrible smell of puke was probably one of the worst things you've ever smelled in your entire life. It was all too much, every single one of your five senses being mercilessly attacked.

You shouldn't have let yourself get wasted; you knew that, and you mentally cursed yourself for such reckless behavior. But the longer you sat at the bar, completely by yourself and with your friends nowhere in sight, it was like no one was there to stop you. You still missed him and you thought alcohol would be better at numbing the pain than a tub of ice cream. Both were terrible items for getting over a heartbreak because they both only made you want to vomit, which is something you always learned the hard way.

That's how you ended up in a stall, tears freely running down your cheeks in a drunken haze. Your friends were on your mind, but more than anything you just wanted to be carried out of here. You grabbed your phone out of your bag and opened up your contacts. But for some reason, instead of clicking on one of your friend's names, you kept scrolling further down, subconsciously searching for that specific name that you knew you should've just deleted a long time ago.

You clicked on the little phone icon, and listened attentively to the ringing on the other end. It rang and rang and rang, and it went on for so long that it almost snapped you out of the very stupid thing you were doing, but then–

"Hello?"

Leon actually answered. And even after all this time, his voice was still the most soothing sound in the world. You cleared your throat before attempting to put together a sentence in response.

"Hey… I'm… I'm, uh, in a gross bathroom at, um… fuck, what was the name of this place…" you trailed off, your cheeks heating up out of embarrassment. You rubbed your forehead, trying to think despite how hard it was to do.

Leon was silent for a bit on the other end before speaking up.

"___? Are you okay? It's… really late."

You chuckled, a burp coming out alongside the sound. "I know, right? What the fuck am I even doing here?"

"___, listen to me. Are you alright? Why did you call?" Leon asked. You could just faintly hear shuffling on the other end, and the unmistakable sound of keys jingling, as if he was already gathering his things before you even told him the location. Your heart fluttered at that and even more warmth was sent to your cheeks.

"No. No, I'm not alright. I feel really fucking sick right now and I don't know where my friends are and I fucking hate being here and-"

"Slow down, sweetheart," Leon said. If the alcohol didn't kill you, the pet name that Leon apparently still liked using for you would.

Leon fell quiet on the line, almost as if suddenly realizing the word that had slipped from his mouth.

"Sorry, I mean– look, tell me where you are. Do you want me to come and get you?"

There was a voice in your head screaming at you to just say no. Your friends were a text message away. If they saw the state you were in they'd take you home in a heartbeat. You knew the right thing to do was apologize to Leon, hang up, and get your ass out of the bathroom stall to find your group. But the alcohol was clouding your judgment, and the rational part of you simply didn't exist right now. Going back to Leon's apartment was like reopening a wound that had just healed. But you couldn't deny how much you needed him in this moment, no matter how pathetic it sounded. He had been on your mind the entire time you were at the club, and hell, even if you had been sober you probably would have ended up back at his place anyway. Because you simply didn't know how to stay away from things that you walked away from.

"Yes. Please come and get me." You replied softly, your words shaky with sorrow and guilt, your voice cracking.

"On my way. Stay put, okay?"

____

"___?"

Your eyes opened slowly. The side of your mouth felt wet with drool. Your brows furrowed as you took in your surroundings.

"___, are you in here?"

Your eyes widened a bit more upon registering whose voice was calling for you. You immediately sat up, trying to adjust your hair and straighten your shirt – before quickly giving up, because you knew no amount of adjusting would make you look like less of a hot mess.

"In here," you called out, not bothering to get up and open the door as your legs felt like they didn't work and any small movement would've caused you to expel your breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

You saw two feet stop right in front of the door. You recognized those boots anywhere. They were your favorite pair.

"Are you… decent? Can I open the door?" Leon asked. You nodded, before quickly realizing he can't hear the movement of your head.

"Yeah," you replied weakly. Leon did just that, opening the stall door slowly.

God, you wanted the ground to swallow you up right then and there. You knew you looked terrible, disgusting even. Your ex, on the other hand, still looked as gorgeous as ever, with his dirty blonde hair slightly longer than the last time you saw it and prettily falling into his deep blue eyes. He was wearing a form fitting black shirt that left nothing to the imagination with a pair of blue jeans and his expensive brown coat.

You averted your gaze out of pure embarrassment. Leon had never seen you in this state and you wish he hadn't. You wished you could turn back time and call your friends instead of him.

Leon kneeled in front of you in the cramped space, gently lifting your chin and making you look him in the eyes. The action only made you feel smaller.

"Hey, let me see you," he started, his gaze softening as he observed you.

"What happened? Nobody-" his jaw clenched. "Nobody did anything to you, right?"

You shook your head. You didn't trust your voice enough to speak.

"Okay, good. You just drank too much?"

You nodded that time.

Leon seemed physically relieved, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he stood back up. He held out his hand.

"Can you stand?" He asked. You muttered out something that sounded like a "yes," taking his hand and slowly rising off the toilet seat. You almost toppled over, but Leon was there to steady you.

"Put your arm around my shoulder." He instructed, but he was already moving your arm for you. You gladly took ahold of his shoulder as his hand held your wrist; his other arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you firmly. The two of you walked out of the bathroom together, ignoring the stares from other club goers.

The both of you made outside, and the cool air was a pleasant sensation to your extremely warm body. Leon helped you into your car, handling you like you were made of glass, before getting into the driver's side himself. He buckled you up first, leaning over you to pull the strap across your chest. His breath was fanning across your face, and you felt your heart rate skyrocket. You gazed at him with tired eyes, and he returned the eye contact briefly, his eyes mostly unreadable, but definitely filled with concern no less.

Once he was buckled up himself, he took off, and you just closed your eyes, hoping and praying that the motion of the car wouldn't cause any sudden hurling.

The car ride was mostly silent; aside from the radio that Leon had turned up slightly, playing some rock song, you were far too exhausted to say anything. You didn't even know what to say, anyway, and it seemed like Leon didn't either.

Eventually, when he stopped at a light, he spoke for the first time in several long minutes. "Your friends – did they abandon you?"

You shook your head. "No… I was the one who split from them. Told them I wanted to be alone."

"But they didn't even check on you?"

You glanced at him and noticed his tense jaw had returned, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"They're all probably shit-faced, too." You replied dryly.

Leon sighed. "I… sure, I guess. Then that brings me to my next question… Why did you go over your limit? You could've put yourself in danger."

You shrugged, gazing out the window.

"I really don't know," you lied.

"God, ___, don't do something like this again. Please." Leon replied.

"I'm… sorry." You said. What you were apologizing for exactly, you weren't sure. For worrying him? For making him come all the way out here to save you like a damsel in distress? The more you thought about it, the more you leaned toward all of the above.

Leon seemed to relax again upon hearing your soft-spoken apology. "There's no need for that, I just…" a sigh. "You should rest. We're almost home."

Home.

You let your eyes slowly drift closed again. The last thing you saw was the sight of Leon driving with one hand, still wearing that unreadable expression.

____

Leon was quick to help you out the car after finding a parking spot. He guided you up the steps to the second floor of the complex, walking to his door. You leaned against him while he fiddled with his keys.

He eventually got the door open, helping you walk through the door. As he walked you through his living room to the bathroom, rather slowly as your feet were slightly dragging across the floor, you took in the familiar space around you. Leon's apartment was, of course, just how you remembered it. He had few decorations, most of them put up by you. His raggedy, but deceptively comfortable couch was somehow still standing strong. His place looked well lived-in; not terribly disorganized, just slightly cluttered. Given the nature of his career and how often he was away, he was never home long enough to let huge messes pile up anyway. You felt a smile tug at your lips as memories crawled back into your mind.

You remembered shopping with Leon for his decorations shortly after you moved in. He pretended to be indifferent, but you'll never forget the grin on his face as he helped you hang up some abstract paintings with poorly hidden amusement. That very couch was often where you spent your time resting your head on Leon's shoulders, or sometimes his head on your lap. The now spotless kitchen was where you and Leon made huge messes together, doing more kissing than cooking.

But your smile slightly faded as memories of the tail end of your relationship tainted your mind. Waiting alone for Leon to return home for a mission, worrying yourself sick. Sometimes Leon was distant, going from attentive and caring to cold and unresponsive in a heartbeat. You knew his trauma made it difficult for him to be fully present in the relationship – but sometimes you acted harshly anyway, both out of frustration and out of concern. His career was eating away at you, too.

The sound of running water pulled you out of your thoughts. You quickly registered that Leon had sat you down on his toilet. After wetting a washcloth, he leaned down in front of you again.

"I'm just gonna wipe your face, alright?" He said. You nodded, closing your eyes.

Leon wiped your face with the washcloth ever so gently, dabbing away dried drool and removing the light sweat that had formed across your forehead. He even went as far as to brush your teeth for you, thoroughly reaching every inch of your mouth to the best of his ability. Somehow, even during this, you found yourself dozing off a few times.

"You don't have to wash up now if you're too tired." Leon said once he had finished a portion of your nighttime routine for you. He stood in front of you while you were still seated, waiting for your next move.

You wanted nothing more than to wish the stink of the nightclub off your skin, but your eyelids were getting heavier by the second.

"Take me to bed, Leon." You muttered, wrapping your hands around his waist and leaning against his torso.

Leon found himself grinning at how much of a koala you became when sleepy and drunk. With one hand, he played with your hair for a bit as you continued holding him. You sighed contently as you felt yourself slip away in the sensation. Leon looked down at you, feeling something tug at his heart strings at how vulnerable you looked like this. The warmth from your arms around his waist brought Leon to a painful realization – that he missed your touch more than he thought.

Leon tried to store that thought away. You'd be gone by the morning, right? He couldn't allow himself to open up to you after all this time. You had made the choice to walk away and as far as he knew, you hadn't changed your mind.

He gently tapped your arms, causing you to stir a bit.

"If you want me to take you to bed, you have to get up first." He said teasingly. You groaned, but reluctantly did what he asked. Even while standing, your eyes were barely open.

"Do you wanna change?” He asked.

“Into what?” You said sleepily, words slurring together.

“I can give you one of my shirts and a pair of my pants. I don't mind.”

You just nodded, leaning into Leon's side, your head falling onto his shoulder.

Leon walked you to his bedroom, grabbing some clothes for you as you stood there patiently, your eyes half open. He gave you an old shirt of his and some gray sweatpants.

You began stepping out of your gross nightclub clothes right in front of Leon, who didn't seem to mind – he helped keep you from stumbling as you got dressed.

“This is so much better.” You said, feeling free and unconstrained now that you were out of those awful leather pants. Leon found himself holding back a grin at the way you were happily rubbing at the fabric of his shirt.

“Let's get you to bed.” He spoke.

He assisted you in getting cozy under the large comforter, even going as far as to tuck you in.

Leon's scent washed over you as you sunk into the softness of his mattress. You almost instantly succumbed to slumber, subconsciously burying your head into Leon's pillow.

For a long time, Leon just stared.

You were safe now, finally out of that awful nightclub and resting comfortably. He felt the tension leave his body, and he could finally go about his nightly routine at ease knowing you were taken care of.

Seeing you in his bed like this reminded him of the nights he came home late. Those nights, he'd crawl into bed next to you, holding you close as if you'd disappear into thin air. Strangely, despite the fact that he was looking directly at you, this was another moment where he felt like you'd cease to exist if he so much as looked away.

But he eventually forced himself to look away, sighing to himself as he went back to the bathroom to freshen up himself. He decided to sleep on the couch, falling asleep with you in his mind and still feeling the phantom touch of your arms around his waist.

____

Upon slowly opening your eyes, squinting slightly at the sunlight filtering through the room, it didn't take you long to notice the splitting headache that pulsated uncomfortably right behind your eyes. You also took note of the fact that you were clad in Leon's clothing.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, your face bunching up in pain at your awful hangover. You were mentally chastising yourself, as you knew that this terrible headache could've been easily avoided had you not gone past your limit the night before. It was at the moment, as you were lying on your back and staring at the familiar sight of Leon's apartment ceiling, that all of the memories from last night came rushing back to you.

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, feeling a sense of shame wash over you. You barely remember anything from last night, but you knew that when you were shit-faced you turned into a giant child, and you were already feeling apologetic for putting Leon through your drunken antics. You didn't even want to get out of bed and face the man.

So, you did just that; you lied there for a few extra minutes, absolutely dreading the moment when you would have to get up eventually. You sighed, rolling over on your side, facing the closed bedroom door. It was then that you noticed the tall glass of water and bottle of painkillers on the bedside table.

You sat up slowly, feeling your heart warm at Leon's thoughtfulness. You took one pill from the bottle, swallowing it down in one large gulp of water.

You also noticed your phone on the table. Curiously, you checked to see if your phone was even alive – which it was, much to your surprise, but the battery was low. You saw numerous text messages from your acquaintances last night. Some of them were just talking about how much fun they had and thanking you for coming out. Others seem concerned about where you had gone. You didn't feel like replying to any of them, so you promptly shut your phone off. You needed to save your battery, anyway, as you didn't have a charger. You left your phone in its place on the table.

You sat in Leon's bed for a little longer after that, sighing to yourself, before getting up to go find where he was.

You didn't have to look very far after opening the door; there Leon stood in the kitchen, occupied with making breakfast. It seemed like he didn't notice your presence at first, so you took that opportunity to gaze at him, grinning softly at the concentrated look on his face as he flipped over a pancake, his hair falling into his eyes. He looked cuter than ever, clad in his well-loved plaid pajama pants and a loose black shirt. It felt strange, seeing him like this again after so many months.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Leon suddenly spoke, still turned away from you. You were slightly startled, quickly averting your gaze.

“Morning,” you said softly. “Did you know I was standing here the whole time?”

“Of course I did,” Leon replied, finally turning to you with a pretty smile on his face, one that you couldn't help but immediately return. “Government training helped me with my awareness, y'know.”

You chuckled at that, making your way over to the dining table and taking a seat. Resting your chin in your hand, you watched Leon lovingly, a comfortable silence settling between you.

“Need a hand with anything?” you asked.

“Nah, it's alright. I'm almost done, anyway.” Leon replied. “By the way, how did you sleep?”

“Like a baby. I forgot how comfortable your bed was.” you said.

Leon grinned. “That's good. And your head?”

“It's feeling better. Thanks for the medicine, by the way.”

“Of course.” Leon replied.

Eventually, he carried to the table two plates of food, along with two tall glasses of orange juice. It was a simple breakfast, consisting of just pancakes, but it was totally fine by you. They looked fluffy and perfectly cooked and you didn't hesitate to dive in.

Leon just watched you eat in silence, a small grin on his face as he watched you do a little happy dance upon taking a bite. He wasn't really showing it, but he was very pleased with himself; not just because he made you a decent plate of pancakes but because you were here with him, out of that grimy nightclub, content and being taken care of. Leon felt a tug at his heartstrings as he realized just how much he missed taking care of you.

“Leon. Are you gonna eat?” you said with a chuckle, nearly done with your food. Leon seemed to snap out of whatever trance you had put him in, quickly glancing at his untouched plate of food.

“Yeah. Sorry.” He said in a slightly bashful way that made you swoon. He finally had begun eating, thoughtfully chewing, taking his time.

You leaned back in your chair, feeling completely satiated. For a while, the two of you just sat in comfortable silence. It dawned on you that eventually you'd have to leave, sadness beginning to wash over you like waves.

“What's the matter?” Leon suddenly spoke. “Be honest, were the pancakes actually terrible?” He said jokingly. That got you smiling again, and you let out a small, half-hearted laugh.

“Leon, they were fucking amazing,” you replied sincerely. You smiled then faltered a bit. “I just… I still feel bad.”

Leon, who was also sitting lax in his chair, had straightened up, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he gazed warmly at you.

“About?” He inquired.

You sighed, looking down at your lap. Suddenly eye contact was too much right now.

“For last night. I know I've already apologized but… seriously, I'm really sorry for making you drive all the way out there. And for worrying you.”

Leon shook his head, looking at you with an expression that could only be read as sympathetic.

“I've said it before and I'll say it again – you don't have to apologize, okay? If anything, I'm glad you called me. It meant that you trusted me to ensure your safety; and that made me feel good.”

You felt your heart warm at that. You continued to stare down at your lap, twiddling your thumbs, still hesitant to let him into your gaze.

“Can you look at me? Please?” Leon said ever so softly. The gentle, almost desperate tone of voice was enough to get you to finally raise your head and meet his eyes.

“There you are,” he said fondly. “I want you to know that you can always call me. For anything. And if you need me, I'll be there. We're not… together anymore but that doesn't mean I'm just gonna step out of your life, okay? I still care about you. Always will.”

You were effectively silenced, so deeply touched by Leon's words that you couldn't even produce any of your own. Suddenly your vision began to blur and your bottom lip was quivering.

Your friends – really, just your co-workers – who had practically forgotten about you at that club? They probably didn't care about you all like they claimed to. But if there was one person that would always stand up for you, help you, tend to your needs – it was Leon. It had always been him.

With a shaky voice, you responded, “Thank you, Leon. I… still care about you, too. So much. I totally owe you after last night.” you said with a playful smile, although you were honestly very serious.

“No, it's okay. You don't owe me anything. I was just doing what a good friend is supposed to do.”

Friend.

You brushed the word off, ignoring the pang of disappointment that hit you. You simply smiled at him.

Clearing your throat, you started another topic. “So, um… I guess since I'm here, we should catch up a bit. It's been so long since I've last spoken to you.”

Leon shrugged. “Honestly? I don't have much to catch you up on. I've just been doing what I always do, lounging around, working, occasionally going out with Claire and Chris. You know me, I'm a boring guy.”

“You are not at all boring, Kennedy,” you said teasingly.

“You know, it's okay to admit it.” He replied, and you could only shake your head, laughing quietly to yourself.

“You're literally a government agent. That's the opposite of boring.”

“Well, what a lot of people don't know is that being a government agent also comes with a shit-ton of paperwork.”

“I suppose,” you said with a completely playful roll of your eyes. “Anyway, Claire and her brother doing well?”

“They're doing great. They're always asking about you.”

You felt guilt begin to rear its ugly head at Leon's comment. “I haven't spoken to them in a while too… God, I'm terrible.” You said.

“Hey, don't make it a huge deal. They know how busy you are. They still care about you too. You could go a thousand years without speaking to them and they'd still be excited to hear from you.”

“That's nice to know.” You replied. You made it a mental note to get in contact with them soon.

The dining table fell quiet again. There was this undeniable tension in the air, one that the two of you couldn't shake. As much as you hated to admit it, you had missed sitting at Leon's dining table, sitting across from him specifically, sharing peaceful mornings together. You knew that eventually you'd have to leave; you'd part ways with Leon once more. You wish you could say that'd be easy to do.

Leon pulled you out of the recesses of your mind when he suddenly stood up, grabbing the two plates and cups. You silently watched as he went over to the sink, turning on the faucet.

Without even thinking, you stood up as well, joining him in the kitchen.

“Let me help you,” you said, not even giving him the choice.

Leon shook his head, like you knew he would. “It's alright, I got it. I know you've probably got things to do, so I understand if you need to go-”

“Things to do? Like what?” You interrupted with a playful grin. “I want to help, Leon, please.”

“It's only a few dishes.”

“I know– look, stop being so stubborn and let me help. Please.” You said, taking a plate out of his hand and grabbing a washcloth to help with drying. Leon just chuckled, having paused his washing for a bit to admire you.

“You haven't changed.” He spoke.

“What do you mean?” You asked as you put the plate back in its respective cabinet. You didn't even need to ask where it went – it was muscle memory for you.

“I mean… always wanting to help with stuff. It's what I've always liked about you.” Leon replied, handing you a newly washed cup. You took it, slowly, still processing his words. You felt a certain warmth throughout your body, trying to distract yourself from the feeling by rather furiously drying the glass.

“That's just how I am. Can't help it.” You replied shyly, your voice coming out small.

“I know. You should consider being an agent since you like helping so much.” Leon teased. You were putting the glass up when he had said that and weren't looking directly at him, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. It made you smile.

“Absolutely not.” You replied immediately, to which the both of you broke out into laughter, the sound filling the kitchen.

The two of you finished doing the dishes fairly quickly, falling into an easy rhythm. It all felt too familiar. The both of you fell into your usual banter so easily, and it was almost like you two hadn't just spent months apart.

You ended up helping Leon clean his entire kitchen after the dishes, chatting with him every second and moving around each other with the sort of ease you can only get when you've spent enough time in one place to memorize everything. You told Leon that you didn't mind helping him knock out a few chores, which was true; you knew how busy he was and how he was usually too tired to take care of things like this himself. But deep down, the true reason why you were still here was because you just didn't want to leave. But you kept that part buried within you. It was difficult coming to terms with what that meant and you didn't want to think about it.

“Does anything else need tidying?” You asked him once you finished wiping the kitchen counter. Leon looked around, seemingly thinking for a moment, before shaking his head.

“Nah, it's all good. But I appreciate it.”

Your grin faltered a bit. You knew you had to go. You had been here for hours now.

“Ah, okay,” you said, trying to hide the dejection in your voice. “Well, um… I guess I should get out of your hair then.”

Leon perked up at that. “You don't have to leave.” He said quickly. He then cleared his throat, looking away. “I mean, uh– if you don't want to, you can stay as long as you want.”

You wanted to more than anything else. But the right thing would be to leave, even though that went against your heart's desires. Who knows what you'd end up saying– or doing– if you stayed. Whatever it'd be, you'd probably regret it.

“I should really go.” You said quietly. Leon just silently nodded. His expression was unreadable yet again.

After making sure you had all your belongings, and unfortunately having to change back into your cursed club outfit for the time being, you now stood in front of the door. Leon had changed out of his pajamas too, looking as handsome as ever in a simple pair of jeans, a black shirt, and boots.

Since your friends had driven you to the club, and Leon drove you to his place, he'd have to drive you back. You were waiting for him after he had said he had to find his keys. You took one long, final glance around his house as you stood there with a heavy heart.

Quite a bit of time had passed, though, and you were about to call out to Leon, as you noticed he seemed to be taking longer than you expected. You figured he just needed help searching for his keys, so you jogged over to his bedroom, where you saw him enter.

When you walked in, he was kneeling in front of a cardboard box. His closet door was open, so you presumed that's where the box came from. Your brows pinched together in confusion.

“Leon? I can help with finding your keys-”

“Oh, I have my keys. I just, um… suddenly remembered something.” He said, a bit cryptically.

You were still visibly puzzled. “Remembered what?” you asked, walking a bit closer to see the contents of the box. And then you realized.

In the box was some jewelry of yours, one of your shirts, and a bottle of perfume that you had forgotten at his home ages ago.

Your heart warmed at the fact that Leon kept them safe and tucked away in his closet, almost as if he was waiting for the day to return them to you.

“I completely forgot about these,” he said, standing up to face you. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I've been meaning to give these back.”

You just smiled, feeling so incredibly touched and endeared.

“It's okay, Leon. I didn't even realize I was missing these items.” You said with a chuckle. You kneeled down yourself, sifting through the contents of the box and reminiscing. The perfume especially reminded you of so many date nights and all the times Leon told you how nice you smelled.

“You know, that reminds me,” You began, feeling the cotton of your old, worn t-shirt that lay perfectly folded in the box. “I think I still have one of your sweatshirts. The old RPD one.”

You knew you did. It was still in your closet, hidden away. Not forgotten, just out of sight.

“You can keep it.” Leon said. “You looked better in it anyway.”

You felt that familiar heat rush to your face again. Even after all this time, his words still affected you.

“Well, um… thanks.” You replied.

“It's nothing.”

You stood up, holding the box, and the two of you walked back to the door. Every step felt heavier than the last.

You watched as Leon was about to open the door for you. But in that moment, as he was about to turn the knob, something within you snapped.

“Wait.” You said.

Leon paused, turning to look at you. “Did– did you forget something?” He asked.

You shook your head. You slowly put the box down on the floor, gently kicking it aside.

“I don't wanna leave, Leon.”

Leon still seemed perplexed. “I told you, you can stay as long as you-”

“No, I mean… I'm not leaving… again.”

It didn't take long for the realization to hit Leon. He was silent for a bit, unsure of how to proceed, or what to say.

“I need you to be more clear.” He said simply.

You stepped closer to him. You nearly reached your hand out, wanting to gently stroke his hair like you always used to do, but you weren't sure if he was ready to jump back into physical affection like that. You restrained yourself.

“I want to try again, Leon. I'm so sorry for how I treated you. At the time, I didn't understand your trauma – I failed to accommodate you. When I left… I realized how shitty I had been. How much I had missed you. I dated other people and none of them gave me what you did. You were too good to me and I was too selfish. I'm sorry, and I want you to know that I've grown. I will try my best to meet you where you are from now on if you just let me back in.”

You said all of this while staring directly into Leon's captivating eyes, sincerity in your tone and in the way you gazed at him. You hoped Leon could feel your guilt. Your remorse.

Leon just stared back, stunned into silence. You could tell his mind was racing, searching for what to say, processing everything you had told him. You were prepared for him to say no. You were bracing for the heartbreak. You wouldn't be upset, no. You'd be understanding. You were ready to leave for good if that's what he wanted.

But heartbreak isn't what you got.

“Thank you. For apologizing.” Leon said. “I should, too. I wasn't being totally honest about my line of work. And dating a government agent isn't necessarily an easy thing to handle. It was probably traumatic for you, too, seeing me come home so damaged, physically and mentally.

“And for the record, I don't think you were being selfish. You wanted to help, I know you did, you just didn't know how and it was frustrating.”

You felt a stinging sensation in your eyes, your emotions nearly meeting their boiling point, tears threatening to spill. Deep down, you didn't think Leon had anything to apologize for, considering everything he's been through and seen, but you were appreciative of his apology nonetheless. It warmed your heart to know that he never resented you when you were together, like you always thought he did.

“So… should we try this again?” you said, a playful glint in your watery eyes.

Leon grinned. “We should.”

At that, you couldn't hold back any longer. You went in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck snugly. He wasted no time in wrapping his around your waist. Being back in his arms again felt like a dream.

You brought a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through it. You felt Leon relax even more at the soft touch.

With your lips close to his ear, you whispered:

“I never stopped loving you.”

Leon pulled away a bit, his hands just lightly resting on your waist.

“Neither did I.”

A pause. You felt his breath fan across your face.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, already grinning like a lovesick teenager.

“Please.” Was all Leon said before you leaned in, your lips finding purchase on top of his, bodies pressed close together.

You had a hunch that making yourself at home again wouldn't be difficult at all.

[bodybahng]

consider it a treat (request)

masterlist

word count: 0.9k

pairing: han jisung x gender neutral reader

warnings: none, just teeth rotting fluff

a/n: where can i find a hanji? 🥹

if you don’t have an age indicator in your bio or pinned, you’ll be blocked. minors do not interact.

the thud of something falling on the ground woke you up from your afternoon nap, with the culprit looking wide eyed at you, downturned eyebrows exuding guilt.

“y/n, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up,” jisung spoke quickly and quietly, crouching down to pick up his phone. his eyes softened when he saw you stretching and yawning, hair going in all directions. “was it a good nap?”

“until someone woke me up,” you joked, sitting up and fixing the mess on your head as best as you could without a mirror. “but it was even better that i got to wake up to your cute face, even if it wasn’t right next to me.”

he attempted to hide his shy smile by ducking his head, but you’d already seen it. “i tried to sleep, but i was feeling a little antsy so i went to play some guitar in my studio room.”

“that’s okay, i’m just poking fun at you.” you chuckled, reaching for your phone and checking the time. “well, we still have two hours to kill before the party… do you wanna do something?”

“i’m not sure if there will be anything to eat there, wanna order something now?” he suggested, sitting on the edge of his bed and trying to hold back a smile when you hugged him from behind to peep over his shoulder.

jisung was scrolling through the app, clicking on his favourite restaurant since you’d ordered from yours last night. things were always easy with him, there was no indecisiveness or doubt because you usually fell into a rhythm that both of you were satisfied with, always taking turns to make sure your wants and needs were equally attended.

“what do you want? the usual?” he turned his head slightly to the side, flinching and blushing a little when he noticed how close your face was.

“mhm,” you hummed, placing a quick peck to the tip of his nose. “i’ll pay you back tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“don’t worry about it, today’s on me.”

“ji, we’ve talked about this,” you tried arguing, but he carefully turned his body to face yours as your arms let him go. “if you insist on paying every time, i’ll never be able to and that’s not fair.”

“i know, it’s just this once, i promise.” his eyes roamed all over your face, as if to silently worship all the small details he’d memorised long ago. “consider it a treat to my prettiest…friend.”

the hesitance in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by you. this flirting game you played wasn’t new at all and you were aware that friends, too, can joke like this, but this wasn’t the case. you always noticed the way his gaze lingered on you when he thought you weren’t watching or when he quickly dropped his eyes to your mouth before going back up to your eyes, thinking he was being subtle. so any feelings of ‘is he really interested in me like that?’ faded away long ago.

“you’re the cutest guy i know,” you answered, ruffling his hair in an attempt to get rid of the tension that was making its presence between you.

“that you know? so there’s a chance of a cuter guy you haven’t met yet being out there?” you could tell he was only being playful, but you still didn’t want him to have any reasons to believe that was true.

“that’d be impossible,” you said while letting your hand drop to his nape, caressing the strands that were beginning to cover it.

jisung didn’t know where he got the courage from, maybe it was your close proximity or how your foot had been gently rubbing against his when you’d adjusted your position to sit beside him, but he only fully realised what he was doing when he heard your breath hitching.

“y/n…” he whispered, hot air hitting your lips with him almost touching them. he had one hand on your waist and the other was cupping your face softly, silently hoping for the distabce between you to be nonexistent.

“kiss me.” you didn’t wait for him to ask, feeling your body burning with need for him.

you didn’t have time to feel embarrassed about the low moan that got out of you once his lips were finally on yours because he did the same, showing just how much you were both dreaming about this moment for a long time.

he didn’t want to waste any second, tongue gently asking for permission, and you swore time stood still as you felt all of him against you. his front was glued to yours, the kiss both urgent and filled with tenderness.

“fuck, i can’t believe we waited this long…” you breathed into his lips, pressing a few more delicate pecks before fully pulling away to look at his giddy expression.

“the real deal was so much better than all of those times i imagined it,” jisung confessed, giggling as heat rose to your cheeks. “i’m glad i don’t have to rely on that anymore.”

“is that your way of saying you wanna kiss me again?” you yelped as he grabbed your leg and swiftly helped you straddle his lap, biting his own lip in the process.

“it surely is. do you?” he still wanted to check that it hadn’t been just an impulse and a one time thing for you, always being considerate of your feelings before acting on his own. you didn’t need to say anything else, instead letting another kiss answer for you.

the two of you stayed just like that, lazily kissing and feeling comfortable with each other, until the doorbell rang indicating your food had arrived. you sent jisung on his way with giggles as he didn’t seem to want to let you go for even a second.

[willow-moon-23]

Let's go for a ride

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

Word Count: 1304

Aaron and I walk out of the elevator and into the parking garage. I stopped by my motorcycle and looked over at him. “Have you ridden a motorcycle before?”

He looked at me then at the bike. “I have. A long time ago. Why do you ask?”

I shrug, tilting my head to the side. “Curious.” I put my helmet on, watching Aaron take his keys out of his pocket. I open my visor. “Do you wanna go for a ride?”

He looked at me with his brow furrowed. “Right now?”

“I could follow you to your place so you don’t leave your car here if you want.” I give him a polite smile. He seems to ponder my invitation. Before nodding with an alright. “Perfect. I’ll meet you at yours.” I was quick to smoothly mount my bike and start it. Aaron nods and walks to his car. Once he was in and started his car, I head out of the garage towards his house. He pulls up next to me at the light. I open my visor again when I see him roll his window down.

“Do you have a spare helmet?” He asks.

“Actually I do, but it's at my apartment.” I vaguely motion toward my place.

“Go get it then come to mine. I should be ready by the time you get there.” He glances at the light and then back at me.

“You sure?” I ask before checking the light, seeing the cross-section turn yellow. “Call me so we can talk,” I tell him as the light changes. I flip my visor down and keep pace with his car. Seconds later my phone rings in my headset. I answer the call. “Hiya.”

“Are you okay with answering the phone like this?” I can hear the hesitancy in his voice.

“I have a headset in my helmet so I can talk to my group on rides. I’m used to it.” I tell him as we drive. “The spare helmet I have has one too so I can talk to you.”

“I trust you.”

“I know you do.” My tone was teasing.

“Behave.”

“Never.” I grin under my helmet. “Are you okay with talking on the phone while driving?”

“I have you on my Bluetooth.” Aaron hums.

“Just wanted to check.” I split off from him at another light. “I hope the helmet that I have will fit you. I don’t know the size of your head.” I check my mirrors as I drive.

“I should fit a standard medium. I’ve never had a reason to measure my head.” I can hear the chuckle in his words.

“I think it's a medium.” I turn down another street. “You know, I always forget how close our places are to each other.”

“Just a couple blocks, right?”

“Yup. I’m already in my garage.” I park in my spot and turn the bike off. I quickly make my way up to my apartment and unlock my door. “Did you get stuck?”

“Why do you ask?”

“You went quiet. You only go quiet while driving if someone cuts you off.” I shuffle through my closet and find my spare helmet in its bag. “That and I can hear honking.” I chuckle as I look over the helmet.

“The honking wasn’t me.”

“I know, you rarely honk.” I switch out my work bag for my riding bag and lock up my apartment. “I got everything I need and I'm gonna head to you.”

“How are you already done? I’m barely parking now.” Aaron questions.

“I’m just good like that.” I tease. I head back into the garage, fix the spare helmet onto the seat, double-check everything, and then hop back on my bike. “You want me to give you a minute, or can I head over to you?”

“You can come over. I’ll just be a minute.” I can hear the jingle of his keys as he opens his front door.

I look down at my bike pensively. “Ooh, actually, I’m going to run and get gas, then I’ll go get you.” I start my bike and head to the closest gas station to me.

“Should I grab anything from my place?” He sounds farther from the phone.

“Uh, no. I have everything we should need. I mean we don’t really need much other than what’s already in my bag.” I park at a gas pump and open my tank. I pump the gas, careful not to get any on the bike. I glance next to me and bite back a chuckle. “There’s a little boy in the car next to me staring.”

I hear Hotch chuckle. “Really?”

“Yeah, he’s got his face against the window.” I put the pump away and closed my tank. I turn my bike on and gently rev my bike for him. The young boy lights up like a kid on Christmas. I chuckle and wave at him before taking off.

I can hear Aaron chuckle. “You might have just made his day with that.”

“You should have seen his smile, it was really cute.” I carefully make my way to Hotch’s apartment. “You ready?’”

“Yeah. Are you outside?”

I park my bike. “Yeah, I just got here.”

“I’ll be out in a moment.” I hear rustling over the receiver.

“I thought you said you were ready?” I tease.

“I am. I just need to lock my house.”

I chuckle and get off my bike. I take the spare helmet off the seat and watch Hotch walk up to me. I hang up the call as he stands next to me. I tilt the spare helmet in my hands and turn on the headset, ensuring it is linked to mine before handing it to him. “Remember how to do this?”

Hotch takes the helmet, “ Yeah, I remember.” I watch him put it on and adjust the strap. I smile softly under my helmet as I watch his movements.

“You ready now?” I flip out the second set of foot petals.

“Yeah.”

I mount my bike again and steady it so he can get on. “You ok with this?”

He gets on carefully. “I trust you.”

“Good. Hold on.” I let him wrap his arms around me before I ease out of his parking lot. I take us out of the city, through the more scenic routes. “You doing ok back there?”

“I’m good.” I can feel him relax behind me.

“Good. We’re almost there.” I glance to the side as a car passes us.

“Where?”

“You’ll see.” I speed up to move through traffic. We ride for a while before I stop at an overlook. I easily coast us to a stop and turn my bike off. I put the kickstand out and take my helmet off, then look back at Aaron. “We’re here.”

He carefully gets off. He takes his helmet off once his feet are on solid ground. I take my key and pocket it before hopping off my bike. I step up to him and take his hand. I walk the two of us to one of the benches nearby. Aaron looks around enjoying the view. I take the helmets and set them next to me on the bench.

“Pretty, ain’t it.” I sit back and take in the setting sun.

“It is.” Aaron agrees and leans back. His hand covers mine. I look over at him with a smile. I scoot closer to him and lay my head on his shoulder.

“You know, we should do this more often.”

“Ride your bike together or watch the sunset?” Aaron looks down at me.

“Why not both?” I look up at him.

Aaron smiles down at me and wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Sure. We can do both.” I grin at him before turning back to the sunset.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Swallowed Whole by The Flame (Messmer the Impaler x Tarnished! Reader) 9

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS | NEXT

Summary: The two of you find a common ground in family feuds.

A/N: The chapter at the end may include some sexual undertones that's the only warning for this chapter.

A03 link

-

Chapter 9: Unwinding Past

Messmer is a man of his word, for he's there waiting for you the next day at the doorway to the storehouse. It was as if he always had a constant radar on your whereabouts.

Interacting with him for the first time without being at each other's throats was one you didn't realise would be so awkward: neither of you speaks as you walk around, trying to train your gaze on the many artefacts surrounding you. You would pause and observe, whilst Messmer would give one line of the history of how he got it, and then move on, continuing around the storehouse until you found the books you wished to survey.

"May I asketh how didst thee learneth how to readeth?" Messmer finally asked, breaking the silence. Though he tried to seem approachable in his question, his words tumbled out rather clumsily, "T'is something all Tarnished art taught?"

"I don't know, I just... knew?" You didn't buy into your answer, and you knew Messmer didn't either, thanks to the way his eyebrow raised quizzically. "I think... I just remembered how to, it automatically came to me, like I already knew."

Messmer hums, "From the deaths thee experienced, I'm surprised thee remember thy name," he pauses mid-sentence, his eye wide as if something dawns on him. He turns to face you, "What is thy name?"

It dawns on you too that you never told him, for all he called you and those of his knights and staff called you "Tarnished" or "My Lady" or a mixture of the two. It was as if spilling the biggest part of your identity: a part of you that so few knew of, not even fellow Tarnished cared to ask for your name, or rather, you didn't give it to them, to begin with. Coyly, you eyed him carefully, "Promise me you will not tell a soul?"

It was he who rolled his golden eye, yet despite his body language, he leaned in close to you and surprised you by the way his voice was a hushed tone that eased your worries. "Who am I to tell?"

You sigh deeply, uttering it to him as quickly as you can, and wishing he had heard it the first time. It felt foreign to say it aloud as if your name had died a long time ago with you the first time. It had been the first thing you recalled when you had awoken the first time after experiencing your first death, with nothing but rags and a rusty dagger to your person, you carried the title of Tarnished wherever you went, for it was easier to be addressed as one than not at all.

You were thankful Messmer didn't go further into it, simply nodding as he took in your name and didn't ask further. "You're one of the few who has ever asked of my name."

Messmer hums, eyeing the toms of books as if he's through mid-thought, but you know deep down, there must be some ulterior motive as to why he wished for your name only now.

You can distract yourself momentarily as you continue your search, using a small step ladder to help you reach the taller shelves despite Messmer constantly asking if you wished for him to reach for them. Maybe it was stubbornness that was wielded in you, but you stuck to defiance only you could be proud of.

Yet, as you gather the book you wish to present to Messmer, you turn too clumsily, your foot not staying on the step as you suddenly find your body being propelled forward into the air, the book still in hand. 

You think you're quick to gather yourself and stop your fall, but Messmer is quicker.

With a speed you've only seen once in your fight against him, Messmer managed to use his body as a cushion, blocking yourself from the cold ground and a book being dropped. He had wrapped his arms securely around your waist in time, not expecting your momentum to bring you crashing almost face-first into him. The sound he let out was similar to a grunt, his eye wandering over your face as he assessed you. 

"Bid not me thee didst wend looking in mine own wine cellar last night of all?"

His humour is not enough to make you realise your situation: your body snugly resting in the arms of Messmer. He's always warm, that's no surprise, but now, you feel as if you're sweating profusely, your body melting the way candles melt under the heat of flame. You scramble back to the floor on your feet again, stepping back from him as if he may catch some disease from you. He doesn't seem as embarrassed as you do, more so, he's taking it a bit better than you are.

He smells nice today... like oranges? You curse yourself for making a mess out of yourself, apologising until the word seems to lose its meaning. Messmer is silent once more beside you, though you can feel his golden eye on you. "T'is a shame you didn't lose thy manners." He jests and you feel suddenly less warm, your head doesn't feel as if you're swimming underwater, and you're thankful he's making light of it all.

It takes you some time to sort yourself out, to control your heartbeat, unsure why it was beating so fast. You're certain the redhead is aware of your risen heartbeat but continues with looking around the books as if they hold some mild interest to him. It's when you finally present the book you meant to show him. Messmer peers over the book to look at the title. "Art thee one for the histories of the Golden Order?"

"It may hide some answers I've been looking for." You open to random pages, flicking through them until one of the pages catches your attention. Blond hair, golden warm eyes. He's dressed in the colours of the sky, trimmed in gold armour. 

You can feel Messmer's presence behind you, close but not enough to frighten you into believing he's lingering too close into your space. "Here, we can start here," you point to the portrait, of a man who was long dead before everything went wrong, "what do you know of Prince Godwyn?" Your question is genuine.

"He was mine own brother as well as mine own dearest friend," Messmer answers earnestly, though there is a pain to his voice that he does not try to hide from you. "I didst not receiveth much of a time with him before mother did place me here."

"You were familiar with him? In the Lands Between?"

"I knew of Queen Rennala's kin too, the young lion idolised Commander Gaius and me."

Radahn. It didn't make sense as to how he had been around for that long that he was familiar to the demigod children, but his name had never appeared in any of the histories in the Lands Between.

Your silence didn't seem to go down well with Messmer, for you noticed the way the serpents circled him in concern, his fist clenching and unclenching. "Is something the matter?" Did you hurt a soft spot by bringing up his family?

"T'is nothing." Messmer's voice strains, continuing you despite the obvious way he looks uncomfortable. "Mine own mother was greatly inconsolable by Godwyn's death." 

"It was the beginning of the demigods," you muttered more to yourself, but your words did catch Messmer off guard. You didn't know whether he knew of how he died, or who killed him. It had been a painstaking struggle, no doubt one no drama with siblings and kin could compare. "He must've been a good man for a fate so harsh."

"Yes, a valorous man, one did admire by all." Messmer sighs, "he may has't did ceased this family feud."

 It's only when Messmer is abrupt as if he's ready to leave the room the second you have your back to him. He seems rigid, stressed even. "Forgive me, I has't dealings I might not but attendeth to."

"Of course." you don't think a second as to why he's being so cold, since it's been in his nature to be so. He dismisses himself quite quickly, his long legs striding out as he rounds the corner, out of sight.

You watch as he disappears before turning back to the pages, unaware that Messmer is, around the corner, one hand holding his head, the other trying to stop the ache in his chest. He's thankful there's none of his knights around to see him like this, as he tries to calm the ache in between his legs. He huffs, storming off as he tries to think nothing less of you being in his arms and the feeling of your skin against his, burning him, smouldering him with this unknown, intense heat that he wishes to be rid of.

-

A/N: So… Messmer is feeling like some horn dog, but let's be impressed that he did manage to keep it together for that long!😉 Gosh, this honestly took longer to write only because sickness came over me and left me not wishing to do anything for a whole week. I started writing this before getting sick and then by the time I came back around to it, I had lost all motivation and knowledge of how I wanted it to go. So hopefully it doesn't feel jumbled or clumsy in writing. I will try to get back to it in the next chapter.✨

[kaiyunsim]

HEARTS IN THE MARGINS — chapter 12 : og bf

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written section : (wc : ~450) not proof read :>

Jake shows up at the usual meetup spot, the library, this time a half-hour early. He feels bad for having you come over on such short notice so he decides to pick something up on his way there. The place he stopped by was a coffee shop that you mentioned that you liked, he took a mental note of it and hoped it would make up for the mini emergency that he had.

fifteen minutes pass, normally you would be there. he doesn’t think much about it though because it’s still early. eventually it reaches the time you agreed to meet up and he looks around for you, still nowhere to be seen. he starts to check his messages if you said anything. empty. he decides to text again, thinking you probably just missed his previous message.

hi y/n erm you’re coming right

he texts, of course not expecting a response right away so he puts his phone down. he starts to scan his surroundings checking if you are around. he kills some time by preparing the area and setting up his supplies and books.

eventually fifteen minutes pass, he just makes up another excuse, ‘maybe they’re bus is late’ ‘maybe they had to do something’ ‘maybe they forgot’ he rambles on and on in his own thoughts wondering why you aren’t there yet. he checks his messages again, all of them left on delivered.

are they ignoring me?

jake thinks to himself. after waiting another fifteen minutes, for a total of thirty minutes later than the scheduled meetup, jake finally packs up and starts to leave. at this point his gift that he got you was cold and ruined already.

jake leaves and drives off to the last place he last knew you were, heeseung’s place. once there he knocks. heeseung opens the door and greets jake with a confused face.

”why are you here? i didn’t know were having a game session today…” heeseung rambles,

”no i’m not here to play,” jake scoffs, slightly annoyed by the comment from heeseung, “is y/n here?”

”oh you know them? they left just a bit ago”

”really? which bus did they take?” jake asks, knowing you don’t have a car and just use public transit.

”oh they didn’t take a bus, their friend picked them up.”

jake sighs in defeat, not knowing of any more places to check or find y/n.

“why don’t you try asking hoon? they’re friends,” heeseung comments, trying to help jake out. it sucks to see him like this so heeseung wanted to do whatever he could to help.

jake nods before waving goodbye and hopping into his car, driving back to his dorm, leaving him thinking about what to do next.

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prev | masterlist | next

a/n : sorry everyone been busy doing school :(( BUT i have a long weekend so maybe oneshots?? i didn’t really like how this turned out but i have some ideas for future chapters. plus i had to get something out i feel bad for being so ia so it def feels a bit rushed. (please request things so i get out of this writing block for hearts in the margins)

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taglist ! : (OPEN !) comment or send an ask to be added !

@onlyhyunjin @starchasing-cryptid @bubblztaro @kanattac @nootnootpinguuu @gnusihcom @kkurbys @w0uldyoukissme @ilovejungwonandhaechan @pshwrldd @minoouz @winuvs @zhaegon @danielleism

[jewishbarbies]

my mom has been very vocal about how much she doesn't like that i'm a horror fan for several years, and now she laughs when i mention anything about the Barbie movie because she "can't believe i like Barbie" since it's so different, like, if she only knew what i post about on the internet. oh boy.

[svtskneecaps]

it's still genuinely funny to me that the only eggs to use "she" pronouns decided their pronouns themselves lmfao

[wedontdeservethestars]

.

[genderfluid-druid]

.

[plushie-lovey]

Gonna freak

[fortunatefool]

Not to date myself but sometimes in the middle of a crisis u get to hear Pursuit of Happiness (Nightmare) by Kid Cudi featuring MGMT and Ratatat, Steve Aoki Remix and feel joy for the first time in a week and a half

[tonycries]

F*ck You! (Literally) - T.F.

Synopsis. Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, angry séx, spítting, degradation, y’all are both mean, rough, jealousy (Toji’s side), bréeding, smackíng, arguíng during it, cúmplay, overstím, oral (female receiving), mentions of Megumi and Shiu, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.7k

A/N. Gojo next week because I miss my man smh.

It’s not often that you contemplate something that would definitely end up with a night in jail - but it seems that somehow whenever you did, your ex-husband Toji was always sure to be the cause of it.

Like that time he had the audacity to ask you out to dinner right outside the divorce attorney’s office, mere moments after signing those papers. Or when he “accidentally” sent you some mouthwateringly shirtless photos - through email, of course, because you had him blocked otherwise. Although, you’d saved those pictures - a secret you’d take to the grave.

And now. 

Standing right outside your front door, on the night of what would’ve been your fifth anniversary. His imposing figure filling the frame, that tiny scar you loved and hated so much quirking up ever-so-slightly as he shoots you a sly grin. 

He’s here.

Looking as devastatingly handsome as the day you left him.

“Happy anniversary, ex-wifey.”

And just as irritating, too. 

That snaps you out of your traitorous little reverie, and before long you’re sputtering out a shaky, “Y-you. What do you think you’re doing here?” Not even waiting for his response before moving to shut the door in his face.

“Oh, believe me,” Toji lets out a humorless little laugh, reaching up a sculpted arm to stop the door in its tracks. “I wouldn’t be here even if I wanted to.”

That was a lie - and Toji knew that. He had half the mind to think that you knew that. But it didn’t matter when you’re glaring up at him so prettily. The confusion evident on your face as you grit out a shrill, “Then why am I seeing your stupid face tonight?”

“Chance? Luck? A blessing?” 

Scoffing, “A curse.”

“That mouth’s still as sharp as ever, huh?” He cocks his head in amusement, “Did you not see my email?”

“No, I uh-” you mumble, face burning. And oh you wish you could stop yourself from thinking back to those photos - stop yourself from wanting to smack the smirk off Toji’s face that told you he was, too. “-blocked you on…that…as well.”

“Mhm.” he hums, eyes lingering too long on your comfy pajamas - his favorite ones -  and the way you’re squirming so adorably under the intensity of his gaze. “Well, m’just here to pick up one of that brat’s toys. Won’t take long n’ I’ll be out of your sight, doll.”

And you can’t say anything about that familiar little petname, because it hits you with a pang - oh, how you missed Megumi. 

He’d thrown a tantrum until he was allowed to visit you occasionally, of course. But still, it was nothing compared to how inseparable the three of you were before your relationship with Toji soured. His line of work too dangerous, the fights more frequent until you’d had enough.

“Ah, yes. Megs probably won’t even leave the house without it.” you chuckle, opening the door wider. “I was surprised to find it the other day since he said that lil’ plushie was his best friend. After me.”

“After me.”

“Liar.”

“Gorgeous.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fitting for our anniversary, huh?” And oh how Toji enjoyed riling you up. To spy that little furrow between your brows as he strides inside your apartment like it was his own - he did know it like the back of his hand. “I already know where the bed is, after all.”

“Yeah, and you know where the door is too.” you mutter, acting like it didn’t make your head spin to think of Toji - in your home. With you. You and Toji. In your home. You and Toji in your home. 

You hadn’t seen him since the divorce just four months ago, and here he was looking so unfairly like he fit right in. Taking up much more time than necessary as he walks towards that little wolf toy on your couch. Eyeing up the sappy romance movie paused on-screen, and those familiar photographs on the wall. 

You still had that one of the two of you from that beach getaway two years ago, he noted with delight. 

“Heh, for someone that hates me so much, s’funny you have my face hung up here.” he smirks, words just dripping with that familiar dark tone that has shivers running down your spine. “Knew you were still into me.” Defiant - challenging, even, because he always did like to push all your buttons. 

Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fall for-

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes, walking towards where Toji stood. “I jus’ use it to scare off clingy dates in the morning.” 

And you loved to push his buttons even more. 

“Oh? Dates, huh?” And something about those words make you feel like something’s too-tense. Exciting, even. Especially as he repeats - more to himself than you, “Dates.”

“Jealous?”

“Heh, of whatever scrub took you out? In your dreams, doll.” Maybe it was the way Toji was joking - but didn’t sound like he was at all. Or maybe it was the way he didn’t move as you stepped closer, enough that you’re almost toe-to-toe with him. Probably it was the way he murmurs out a strangled, “M’not jealous.”

Oh. 

You watch the way his body stiffens, darkened eyes flitting between you and the picture and you- Smirking “Good, because m’having one over soon.”

“Oh, you little bitch.” He spits out the words, gaze hardening in a way you knew did not bode well for your - or down there. Hitting it where it hurts, “This is why I’m so fuckin’ glad we divorced.”

“Fuck you,” you tilt your head, anger simmering beneath your skin - and you didn’t know who was pissing each other off more. “So then you can get out before my date gets here.” And the emphasis on “date” isn’t lost on him.

“Such a liar.”

“M’not lying.” You were - but you didn’t care if Toji could tell because it was ticking him off just the same. “You could say he’s an-” Now close enough that you could feel the heat of his proximity. A finger stabbing right in his pecs with each word, “-upgrade.”

Suddenly you’re being pulled to his rock-hard chest, all the dips and curves of his body so sinfully obvious against your skin as he questions, “How so?”

“Well, for starters he’s-” you gasp, casting a sidelong glance at the way the muscles in his arms ripple. And it takes everything in you to try and keep your voice steady, “-bigger.” Thighs pressing together at the tiny grunt of disbelief that leaves your ex-husband, too-aware of the strong hand wrapped around your waist. “And sexier.”

“And?”

“And what?” you gulp, raising your head to blink up at him in confusion and oh- 

Oh, shit. You weren’t going to make it out alive. 

Toji’s eyes were wide, a mirthless smirk spreading across his face, jaw tensing as he leans down to whisper hotly against your ear, words hoarse - stilted, like it pained him to even speak them into existence. “And what other lies are ya gonna make up?”

And you might be a genius - you might just not know what’s good for you. 

Because you’re batting your lashes just the way you knew he liked, the words - saccharine sweet, and falling from your lips faster than your whirling brain could even register them. “And he makes me cum so much harder.”

Toji’s lips are crashing against yours - and you knew it was coming. You wanted them to. Bruising, angry - like he was telling you to just shut the fuck up, another word of your imaginary date and it would kill him. 

He tasted the same as he did all those months ago. Sweet, like those cheap lollipops he would buy you and that absolute sin of his scar rubbing against your lips. 

“Fuck-” he lets out a guttural groan into your lips. Only a sloppy mix of teeth and spit as he kisses you with the collective desperation of a little over four months. “Hate how you’re-” Like he didn’t even care if it left your poor lips swollen and bruised - at least that might give whatever loser coming here a hint. “-still addictive.”

With that, he picks you up like it’s just nothing, your traitorous legs easily wrapping around his toned waist. Letting you pull off that sinfully snug t-shirt to feel the smooth planes of all his muscles. Soft. Warm. 

You gasp at how he manhandles you so that your thin pajama pants are just above his achingly hard cock, throbbing, and so so angry against your core. Trousers already so damp with- precum? Your slick? 

“Hah- not jealous my ass-” you hiss, grinding down on his bulge.

And Toji’s parting mere millimeters, chuckling darkly at the disappointed little whine that escapes you. “Yeah, well, does he ever get you like this?” He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, purposely not giving you what you want. “Does he ever get you this-” Grinding you against his straining erection, two fingers sliding down, just teasing the drenched front of your shorts. “-this fuckin’ wet?”

“Nah,” you pull on Toji’s silky locks, nipping at his collarbone. “He gets me wetter.”

“You little-”

It’s like something snaps - whatever’s left of Toji’s sanity, your patience, possibly you by the end of this. Anything but the thick, suffocating - tension in your living room. Now too small. Too hot. 

Before you can react, your back  is hitting the soft cushions of your couch. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw as Toji looms over you. 

“Thought you knew where the bed was?” you manage to get out, in the heat of it all. 

“Thought you hated me?”

“Gonna kill you if you break this cou-” but the rest of the retort on your tongue dies as Toji’s hands are suddenly everywhere.

Groping your breasts - your waist - your ass. Barely giving you time to even think before fisting your shirt in one hand. Too impatient - too starved - to do anything other than pull down, down, down until it-

RIP!

“Oh you fuckin’ slut.” Toji’s jaw drops into a soft little oh! at the sight of your heavenly breasts before him. No bra - exactly how he liked it. “How I missed these.” Massaging them under his hands, “Is this for him or ya really had no idea I was coming?”

“You’re t-too fuckin’ hah-” you whine as he immediately takes one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive nipples. “-full of yourself.”

And you don’t even know if Toji registered the insult - looking like he was on cloud nine as he rolled your other nipple between two fingers. Pulling off with a lewd pop! only to say, “Wonder if you’re the same down there.”

You are - Toji discovers, with wonder. 

Hooking a finger underneath the hem of your already-soaked shorts to pull them off. And, hey, Toji hasn’t had this view in months - so he really can’t help himself from bringing them up to his face. Your jaw drops at his pure audacity as he breathes in the scent of your dripping pussy with a strained, “M’keepin’ these, doll.”

“You’re sick.” 

“And you’re soaked.” strong hands spread your legs so shamefully. You can’t fight it - how fucking wet and glistening you were for him under the dim-lighting. Toji grins cockily, “Who’s she this wet for, huh? Me or him?”

“Not- not you-” you whine, despite how your sloppy cunt was leaking all over your legs - such a mess. A mess that Toji was shifting down the couch to lick up. Slow, lazy circles right at your inner thighs. Sweet - so sweet, his favorite. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste and oh, how Toji missed this. 

Missed teasing you until you broke. 

Which, it turns out, happens fairly early.

“Y-you’re just fucking talk.” you hiss, but it comes out more breathless than you intended. Your voice betraying how badly you wanted him. Needed him to do something - anything. “He-”

Toji doesn’t even let you finish your sentence - and you don’t need to - because without another word, he’s surging forward until he was nose-deep in your messy cunt.

Licking one, long stripe up your swollen folds - up and down, up and down, up and- He murmurs into your cunt, “Do ya still like when I-” Hot tongue flicking roughly against your clit. Just barely, and you’re bucking wildly underneath him. “Ah, you do. Old habits die hard, huh?”

Of course, the only response that Toji gets is a wet, pathetic murmur of something - maybe a plea, probably a curse at him to shut up. 

But it’s something that has all the blood rushing to his aching cock, something that has him biting down lightly on your inner thigh - just a little punishment. 

“What was that?” he purrs, “Didn’t seem to hear you right, wifey.”

It takes everything in you to gasp out, a barely-audible determined little, “I-I said-” fingers threading through Toji’s hair, pulling up his face. Hard, so that he’s forced to meet your eyes instead of admiring your pretty lil’ cunt. “-fuck you.”

And you don’t know what you expected - maybe an insult back, maybe for him to get up and leave you all high and dry right then and there.

But oh you should’ve known your ex-husband better, because he has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh, more to infuriate you than anything as he promptly spits on your quivering pussy. 

Once. Twice.

You flinch as some splatters against your thigh, and you both know it’s on purpose. Because Toji Fushiguro always had perfect aim - but when it comes to you, well, he had to knock his bratty lil’ wife down a few pegs. 

Throwing your legs over his shoulders to lick all over your sloppy pussy once more. “Fuck me, huh?” he groans out little profanities into your cunt, “Fuck me fuck me fuck me-” 

Smack!

You register that delicious little sting on your ass far before the realization that Toji smacked you - and even later do you realize that you liked it. Slick beading through at the painfully good feeling.

Liked the way his rough palm was soothing over the sting, words strangled and slurring together as he smacks his lips against your swollen, sensitive ones. “I’d rather you fuck me than some hah- other loser.”

“S-so fucking mean-” you moan.

“So what?” His thumb draws tight little circles on your throbbing clit, the other hand looping around your waist - bruising - as he drags your sloppy pussy all over his hot mouth. “No one else could do this.” Soft tongue going all the way up from your base, “Get you this wet-” Just dipping into your clenching hole. “-taste you like this.”

“Hngh- fuck-” you groan, as he alternates between flicking your clit so mean and squeezing his tongue into your tight cunt. “Fuck fuck fuck- s’too much-”

Too much? Toji wanted to laugh - if he wasn’t so addicted to the feeling of your gummy walls stretched out so obscenely on his tongue, anyway. He knows you can take it - you always did. 

And he tells you that - a little over ten times, actually, as the hand on your waist arches you deeper and deeper onto Toji’s tongue. Fucking you so harshly - merciless. Unrelenting. Like he was taking any and every shred of anger out on your ravaged cunt.

Bucking your hips wildly, you tipping your head down to look at the sight below you and oh-

You gasp at how sinfully blissed out Toji looks between your thighs. Eyes glassy and hooded, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. Your slick glossing his lips so prettily - and if you angled your head just right you could catch the way it drips down his jawline. Yeah, maybe you really did like his face between your legs. 

“Always knew ya did, doll.” he echoes against your glistening lips and shit, did you say that out loud? 

It doesn’t matter, because Toji has his lips smushing against yours, such a filthy mess of spit and fingers and tongue - everywhere. Like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to taste more. “Knew your pussy missed me, even when you’re such some other bastard. She’s still so sweet.” Thrusting in and out faster past that first, feeble ring of resistance. “So messy f’me. Fuckin’ my tongue so good for s-someone that hates me.”

And you have half the mind to wonder whether it hurt - how his fingers weren’t cramping up yet, lips aching. Letting you push his face deeper into your pussy, ankles locking around his broad shoulders in a desperate attempt to shut him up. Close. 

“Y-you talk ngh- too much.” Blood roaring in your ears, feeling his smirk against your cunt. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“Nah, I know you ah- love it.” Smack! Another handprint on your ass that has you stuttering and jolting on his face. “Can feel you clenching all around me because I-” Toji gives you such an infuriating wink from below,  “-eat this pussy the best.”

 And you would be mad at how cocky he was being - if you weren’t cumming all over his pretty face. 

Stars behind your eyes with each little lick of Toji’s tongue as he fucks you through your high, lapping up all your sweet sweet juices. 

“W-wait oh-” you were letting out such delirious little whines. “S’too sensitive- too- hngh-”

“No-” he grits out, voice shot. “No no no no- wan’ it. Need it.” Scrambling to pull your hips back onto his mouth. Fingers just bruising on your skin. 

He was like a man possessed, and you can only lay there and take it as Toji tips his head back to let your slick slide, down, down, down his throat. Voice shot, as he grits out, “Oh fuck, been holdin’ out on me.” Eyes unfocused and miles away as he comes up to squish your cheeks together in an embarrassing little pout. “Open that fucking mouth.” 

And you barely even realize it when you are - tongue lolling out so sinfully. The only thing jolting you back to whatever senses you have left is Toji spitting in your mouth. 

A steady, angry stream of saliva before his lips are clashing once more with yours. Purposefully letting your juices smear all over both your lips, tasting yourself and him and how desperate you were on his tongue-

“O-oh my god.” you break the kiss at the feeling of something so hard against your cunt. Delicate strings of spit snapping as you whirl down to look. Shit, when did he even take off his-

Ah, how Toji loves the breathless little whimper that leaves your lips at the sight of his too-tight boxers, the insults failing you now. Humming, “Like what ya see?” 

As if to prove his point, he tugs them down just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free. Fuck, you think you’ll never get used to it, even after so long - Toji was so fucking massive. Flushed red, soaked in beads of precum that drip down, down, down all the way to the tufts of black at his toned pelvis. 

So thick and angry that your legs were clenching together just at the mere sight. And Toji notices - how could he not?

“Yeah…” he murmurs, as if continuing a conversation from before. Muscled arms pushing your thighs apart to watch how your sloppy pussy was drooling all over the couch. “She definitely missed me, look how much she’s gushing.” Pooling your juices on his fingertips, “Clean your act up, doll”

“Shut up.” you squeal, embarrassedly, giving Toji a glare that makes his balls squeeze so painfully. Smirking, “You’re not even as big as him.”

Oh. 

Well, Toji didn’t like that - not one bit, in fact, as he shoves his dripping wet fingers in your mouth - pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knows will have your pretty eyes welling up with tears.

“Then why aren’t you with him, you little bitch. Think I like you better when you’re f-fucked dumb.” he spits dangerously against your lips. Fisting his cock to lazily drag up and down your puffy folds. “Don’t you hah- agree?”

He doesn’t get to find out if you agree - and he doesn’t care, either. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to give an answer even if you wanted to. Because his swollen cock was too thick, the stretch too sinful, too dizzying as Toji splits you apart on his unforgiving cock. 

“Mmmpf- fuck! Hah-” you mewl, torn between running away from his cock and bucking down for more more more-

“More?” he laughs, “Ya ask him for more like this too?”

And oh how so very cute and pliant you were being stuffed full. He barely gives you the time to adjust because - why would he? Toji has his mouthy wife all breathless and splayed out so shamefully, desperately trying to milk his cock for all he’s worth. 

Barely even halfway in, yet he rocks into you in shallow, teasing little grinds just to fit himself inside your tight pussy. So mean. Not giving a fuck about those teary whimpers leaving your mouth.

“They ever ngh- fuck you like this?” he rasps, dropping his head to leave little bites down your tender neck. “Ever h-having you crying for his dick like ngh- this?” And despite all his confidence, Toji didn’t want to hear the answer - didn’t want to know the truth. “Such a slut.”

Your nails rake angrily down his sculpted shoulders - a warning, and it’s about the only thing you can do as Toji speeds up. Faster. Deeper. 

“Heh, what? Markin’ me up for others to hah- see?” he cooes, mockingly. And you could just cry as his grin widens, finally - finally - pulling his fingers out. “Why don’t you ngh- use your words instead?”

And you should probably breathe, probably tell him to fuck you exactly the way he wants to - to confess to him that this is all you’ve ever wanted on those lonely nights these past four months. But the both of you know that it’s more fun this way.

So instead, you smile sweetly, “F-fuck you. They do - a lot better, too.”

If only your voice hadn’t cracked so unconvincingly at the end - if only you hadn’t let out such a pornographic moan as Toji pulls your face to meet his. Kissing you over and over and his hips-

“I’m the one fucking you, doll.” he bites down on your lower lip, tugging and pushing at a senseless little rhythm - the complete opposite of his hips. “Remember that.” And that’s all that’s said before Tojis finally bottoming out all the way to the hilt. Heavy balls smacking sinfully against your ass, fat head just kissing your cervix. “It’s me. I don’t give a hah- shit if it’s been f-four mouths, it’ll always be ngh- me.”

The couch creaked in protest as Toji fucked you like it was the last thing he’d do. Like he was trying to fuck every thought of whoever came after him right out of you - along with those silly little thoughts about the divorce.

“B-but-” your eyes widen as Toji runs his mouth - as hasty and urgent as his movements now. Fingers snaking up to toy with your still-sensitive clit, not even drawing circles anymore - just messy, little patterns just to get you off. “We’re already-”

“You s-still think we’re oh- nothing but exes?” he questions, sounding as surprised as you felt. “We can’t stay ah- God, we can’t stay apart and you fuckin’ know it. So…”

You gulp, already knowing the answer to the question he was just goading you into asking. “So?” 

“So…” Toji muses, giving your swollen lips a short, chaste peck. Whispering against them, “M’gonna hah- fuck you till everyone knows you’re mine.”

A promise that Toji Fushiguro was well and fully intent on fulfilling. And you didn’t doubt that he’d have any trouble with it, in fact. 

Because he’s rutting into you so animalistically now, so so sloppy. Torn between savoring the feeling of your plushy walls squeezing him to insanity and abusing your poor cervix. Prominent veins making you feel a maddening little thump thump thump as he roams for that one-

“Ah! Hngh- Toji!”

Found it. 

And Toji had everything he needed - you, his wife, spread so sinfully and stuffed to the brim with him. Hitting your sweet spot over and over- 

“No loser’s gonna fuck you like this.” he breathes against your ear. “Have you ngh- feeling this good.”

“I- ngh- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-” you let out, hips mindlessly bucking down in a pathetic attempt to meet his rough thrusts. “S’too- hah- oh my god. S’too good-”

“Shut up.” Oh he sounds so absolutely wrecked. Sanity crumbling away bit by bit every time he’s plunging his cock - so painfully hard - into your wet pussy. “Do you even ah- realize how sexy you look right now?” Toji throws his head back, eyes still locked on you like it killed him to look away. “Never lettin’ anyone else s-see ya like this. They’re gonna look at you and see me-”

You don’t even know what he’s babbling about anymore. Just that his achingly hard cock was making such a mess of you, pulling back only to go deeper. Massaging all the right spots as fucked you harder into the couch. 

“Me-” he gasps. “That date is gonna fuck- know,” Hips stuttering and absolutely filthy, “That cashier d-down the ngh- street that eyes you up every time is gonna know-” Angry. Desperate. So, so needy. “Your fucking lawyer- ngh- s’gonna know. They’ll s-see you and see me me me me-”

At this point you can only nod deliriously, letting out a broken little, “Hngh- yeah, wan’ that, Toji. Wan’ you so bad.”

Toji presses another chaste kiss - this time to your forehead. Whispering a quiet, “Then cum f’me, doll.”

You do - the hardest you ever think you ever have in your entire life. Thighs shaking, vision spotty, sparks of white-hot electricity going all the way from your hazy brain to where Toji was fucking you through it.

Muffling your moans with his mouth as he gives one, harsh thrust. Then spilling into your gummy walls, painting it all an obscene white with rope after rope of hot cum. 

So wet and hot - with him. All him. 

And you look so cute taking it all like the good little wife that you are, that he can’t help but press down on your lower stomach. Awe-struck at how your cunt gushes around him, coating his twitching cock as Toji fucks his seed deeper and deeper into you. 

But, hell, that wasn’t his favorite part - not by a long shot. Instead, it was probably when you pulled him into his arms, whispering sweet little nonsense in his ear about “how you missed this” and “that date wasn’t real anyway” as he fucks the two of you through your highs. Sweet. Familiar. 

“Oh, God-” he mutters into the crook of your neck, slightly calmer now. Much more clear-minded than the two of you were mere seconds before. “We broke the couch.” 

And it was true - one side was sagging much more than the other. Though you can only let out a giggle in response. Doesn’t matter, the two of you’ll pick out a new one tomorrow - he always hated this new one, anyway. “Happy anniversary, wifey.”

---

“Damn kid, that ol’ dad of yours sure is running late.” Shiu crosses and uncrosses his legs with slight nervousness. Eyeing the small, dark-haired boy playing with blocks a few feet away, “Maybe we should-”

“It’s okay. He’ll be back.” Megumi deadpans, sounding like the absolute last thing on his mind was why his dad was taking way too long for what should’ve been a half an hour errand. Shiu - on the other hand - had his mind whirling with imaginations of traffic accidents or murders or- what if the two of you killed each other- “And he’ll bring back mama too.”

You could almost hear the record screech to a halt. The older man stared wide-eyed at a slightly-smiling Megumi. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait- no, what did you-”

“Nothing.”

Because, hey, Megumi might’ve had to go without his favorite wolf plushie for a bit - but a magician never reveals his tricks, right?

A/N. So how does it feel to be played by a kid, hm?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[newjenns]

im scared and dont want to watch the vod is it so over?

like so incredibly over

[dngrs-untld-hrshps-unnmbrd]

Mating Season

Halsin x Female Reader | sexual frustration | sexual tension | growly bear halsin | totally adoring halsin | horny bear mating instincts | semi-shifted sex | fluff | smut | nsfw

How Halsin’s romance might have played out if we could have had his kisses, adoration, and been totally railed senseless by Oak Daddy from the end of Act I. An ode to Halsin’s hairy chest, big arms, and the vein that I know stands out so thickly on his *muffled horny noises*

After a long and tiring day of fighting off goblins as you search for the Githyanki Crèche, you groan in relief as you sink into the cool waters of the river. Everyone else is back at camp and you’re able to enjoy the currents swirling around your naked body. 

You float in the water, thinking about how much your party has grown in the past few weeks. First Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion, then Lae’zel, Wyll, and Karlach, and finally Halsin, the wildshape druid you rescued from the goblins. He’s a focused member of the group, a valuable healer, and an unstoppable force in battle. You occasionally feel things turning against you in a fight, and then Halsin is there, supporting the group and laying down swathes of flame, lightning and ice. His bear shape never fails to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies. 

Around the fire at night, he talks openly about his quest to free the Shadow-Cursed lands, his admiration for the party, and his praise for your leadership. His gentle words about you have your body prickling with awareness of his. 

That warm smile of his. His large and clever hands. His deep, gentle voice. Everything about this man makes you tingle all the way down to your toes. Whenever you think his gaze is lingering on your mouth, he murmurs goodnight to you and leaves your side. You watch him go, wishing that instead he would reach out and touch you.

An angry, snarling sound fills the air and you sit up in the water. Not far from you, an enormous bear, grunting and breathing hard, walks heavily down the riverbank. It’s huge, and its muscular body blocking out the setting sun, and from the noises it's making and its attitude, it’s a hair's-breadth from lashing out at anything that moves. 

You freeze, not daring even to breathe, hoping with everything you have that the animal will turn around and head back the other way. Instead, it launches itself into the water with an almighty splash. 

As it disappears beneath the surface, you notice a faint scar over the bear’s right eye, as if it’s been clawed. You recognize that scar. 

Wait, is this--

Golden light flashes. The water seethes. A man stands up where there was a bear just moments ago, water cascading from his body. Halsin, and he must have stripped before he changed into wildshape for now he’s completely naked, standing hip-deep in the water. 

He’s partly turned away from you but you can tell his manner is no less worked up than it was in bear form. He swipes his hands angrily through his dripping hair and breathes hard, the muscles of his shoulders and arms clenched in frustration. 

Halsin is one of the gentlest-natured men you’ve ever met, most of the time. Like nature, he too can be wild, his eyes flashing and his voice breaking like thunder over you when he’s frustrated or disappointed, such as when he was remonstrating Kagha for the Rite of Thorns. How magnificent he was that day. 

But what is he restless for now? He stands in the water, looking around at the forest, gripped with frustration, and when he turns a little more your way you can see that the root of his cock is thickened in a tell-tale manner. 

Ah. 

That kind of frustration. 

You quietly make your way to the edge of the river where a willow tree is trailing in the water, moving as carefully and as quietly as you can. This feels like a private moment you’re intruding on. Even though you don’t mean to spy, it feels like you are. The fronds of the willow provide a little cover for you, and hopefully Halsin will cool off and leave the way he came. 

The dice do not roll your way this evening as he approaches you, seeking deeper water. A moment later, your gazes lock, and his eyes widen in surprise.

‘What are you doing there?’

‘I wasn’t spying on you,’ you tell him quickly. ‘I thought you needed some peace, so I was waiting here quietly.’

His eyes run over you, your back pressed against the river bank and cowering amid the willow leaves. 

Halsin heaves a regretful sigh. ‘I frightened you, didn’t I? I am sorry. It’s all right, I am myself again.’ 

He smiles and holds out his hand. It’s a tight smile, like he’s forcing it for you, but you’re no longer worried a bear is about to disembowel you.  

You place your cool fingers into his large, hot ones and let him draw you slowly out of your hiding place. The water is deep enough here that your nakedness is covered, and so is his.

You relax as you gaze up at him, enjoying the sensation of Halsin holding your hand. Quietly enjoying the sight of his bare chest and handsome face. You hope he might walk you into the shallows so you can be naked together, but he remains in deep water, sunk in thought.

‘The river is yours. I’ll leave you to enjoy it,’ you murmur, and glance to where you left your clothes. 

Halsin’s fingers are still tightly twined through yours beneath the water. He seems to be in a world of his own as he gazes at your mouth, your throat, the droplets of water sliding through your wet hair and down your shoulders. A world that includes you. A world where you’re touching one another. 

‘Halsin?’ you ask tentatively. Hopefully. If he wants to move closer and kiss you, that’s more than okay with you. After a long and dusty day, there’s nothing you’d like more than exploring his body in the cool water. That hairy chest of his. His hard muscles. You long to run your tongue over him. Flex your fingers on his biceps. Trace the red tattoo on his cheek.

Halsin comes back into himself with a deep inhale, and he lets go of your hand. ‘Then I’ll see you back at camp.’ He moves away from you through the currents. 

As you push the water from your body and dress in your clothes, you search for Halsin in the river, but he’s disappeared around a bend. 

***

Later around the campfire, you’re hyper aware of Halsin as you talk with Gale about his home in Baldur’s Gate. Halsin is silent, the campfire flickering over his handsome face. You try not to pay him any more attention than you do the others, but your interest in him has spilled over into blazing attraction.

Your gazes lock and Halsin’s brows are drawn tightly together. 

Is he glaring at you? 

A moment later he gets to his feet and, unnoticed by the others, slips away into the darkness. Something’s eating at that man and you wish you knew what.

A short time later, you take a bottle down to the river to refill it with water before turning and heading for your bed. As you round the corner of the ruin where you’ve made your camp, you run straight into Halsin. 

His eyes widen and they flare with heat and surprise, and then he quickly looks away and moves past you.

‘Have I done something to make you angry with me?’ you call after him. 

Halsin stops dead. He stares straight ahead for a moment, and then slowly turns to you, shaking his head. ‘Far from it. I am worked up and frustrated, but not with anger.’

Maybe his frustrations are because of you, and that’s a thought you don’t know what to do with when he keeps avoiding you. 

Not knowing what else to say, you tell him, ‘We will free the Shadow-Cursed lands soon. I know we will.’

He breathes out heavily, his expression troubled. ‘I’m not thinking of the Shadow-Curse right now, even though I should be. It is more important than anything I...’ He trails off, but his gaze lingers on your mouth. ‘...want.’

Halsin steps closer, and you feel the heat blazing off his chest. His warmth and bulk are so welcoming and you crave to reach out and touch him. The backs of his fingers caress your hair. The lightest of touches. Then he takes a handful of your hair and dips his head, bringing the strands to his nose. 

‘You smell wonderful.’ He heaves a deep sigh, and whispers, ‘Can I hold you for a moment?’

That sounds lovely to you, and you nod. 

Halsin wraps an arm around your waist, scoops you against him, and buries his face in your neck. ‘By Silvanus, your scent is sweet,’ he groans. ‘I caught it when we first met, in that foul goblin nest. How it pleased me. Getting to know you these past few weeks has been even sweeter.’

Your hands are plastered against his chest and so is your body. He’s saying everything you hoped to hear. More than you hoped to hear. He has such a beautiful way with words. You turn your head so he can kiss you, but he still refrains. 

Taking a ragged breath, he releases you and steps back. ‘I’m sorry. It’s always difficult this time of year.’

You miss his warmth so much that you shiver. ‘What time of year?’

He gazes at you for a long time. ‘You may laugh, but I’ll tell you. It’s bear mating season.’

You don’t laugh, but your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

‘I know--I’m no bear,’ Halsin says with a laugh of his own, ‘but I spend so much time in wildshape that bear instincts tug on my heart and...other parts of me. I return to my own form and unfortunately the needs do not dissipate. In fact, they worsen, because it is not a bear I want. When she comes close to me smelling like spring and honey and warm sunshine I can’t help but crave her.’ A smile glimmers on his lips.

Enough being vague. You want to hear him say it. You step closer and put a hand against his chest. ‘A general someone, or anyone in particular?’

He groans softly and captures your face in his hands. He drinks you in and swipes his thumb across your lips. The gesture is soft, and full of the promise of his kiss.

‘You are someone I admire and I think I could grow to care deeply about,’ he murmurs. ‘I care about you so much already. Any little scratch you receive I want to push Shadowheart out of the way and tend to you myself.’

Your heart soars.

‘But this isn’t how or when I wanted to begin anything with you. I have to walk away.’

Disappointment plummets through you. 

He’s still holding your face and his expression is conflicted. It seems he wants to put an end to this for now but can’t bring himself to do it. 

‘I can walk away, if that helps?’

His eyes fill with gratitude and longing. ‘Please. That would be a mercy. Know that when the time comes, I will come to you with more than lust in my heart.’

You nod, trailing your fingers down his chest as you step back, but you fail to see what’s wrong with him desiring you. ‘Whatever you need. Of course.’

‘I hope I haven’t offended you.’

You smile gently at him. ‘Your desire is so far from offensive. Please know that I don’t demand more of your attention than you’re willing to give. The Shadow Cursed lands are your priority and I’m...’ How to put this delicately? I’m here for you and you can rail me senseless in between your duties whenever you want to let off steam. That’s what you want to say, but you’re too shy to say it. ‘...Here. Your friend. Always.’

Halsin seems to catch your meaning anyway as his jaw flexes and he nods slowly. 

You promised him you would walk away, and you do, and though you give him ample time to allow him to pull you back, the next sound you hear is a clash and a growl, and a flare of golden light. When you glance over your shoulder, a bear is thundering into the woods on all fours. 

***

A few days later, you’re returning to camp feeling like you’ve been put through a meat grinder, and your companions haven’t fared much better. Gale is unusually silent and covered in blood. Shadowheart is exhausted and dragging her feet. You’re trying not to limp because she and Halsin have already cast so much healing magic. Something’s wrong with your leg, but you’ll see to it yourself when you’re alone. 

The others bid you tired farewells as they head for their tents, but someone catches your arm and holds you back.

‘Oak Father, you’re bleeding. Why didn’t you say anything?’ 

Halsin is staring at your legs, and you stare with him. Blood is pooling around your foot. Oh, that’s not good. 

‘I can tend to it myself after I’ve had some rest--’

Your words are cut off as the massive druid picks you up in his arms and carries you into a crumbling barn. Automatically, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean against the solid bulk of his chest. Halsin lays you down on a pallet and helps you remove your armour, revealing a ragged gash on the top of your thigh. Your clothes have to be cut away until your legs are bare.

Halsin looks exhausted and has dark circles under his eyes. It seems he’s been taking little rest as he roams the forests nightly as a bear. When he reaches for you to lay healing hands on your wound, you place a hand on his wrist.

‘You don’t have to do this right now. I’ll bandage myself up and someone can heal me after they’ve rested.’

Halsin raises challenging eyebrows at you. ‘You believe I don’t have the strength to heal you myself? That I’ll walk away from the most important person in my life and leave her bleeding?’

You moisten your lips, trying not to show how much his words have affected you. The most important person in his life? Suddenly you don’t feel injured at all, and he hasn’t even healed you yet.

‘I have more than enough magic left for this. Now, lay back and let me do my work, and then you can get back to yours.’

You settle back on the pallet and gaze at the cobwebby rafters. Halsin’s hands hover over your thigh, and a warm, delicious feeling spreads through your leg, and then up between your thighs. Your head falls back in relief and pleasure. 

Even Halsin makes a surprised noise. ‘That felt...’ He rubs your now-healed high, massaging the last of the tension and pain from your muscles. ‘That felt different. How’s your thigh now?’ 

You can’t help but moan and arch your back a little at his touch. ‘Good.’ Your voice comes out in a breathy whisper.

‘Just good?’ He strokes his palm over where there was a cut just moments ago. 

‘Halsin, please, you make me feel heavenly,’ you whimper. The words pass your lips without thinking. You reach up to take hold of his shoulders so you can pull him down to kiss you, but pull back before you can touch him. 

This isn’t what he wants. Your hands clench on the pallet, feeling your core ache with need. As soon as he leaves, you can get yourself off thinking about him. 

‘Would you like me to go?’ he asks softly. 

‘I never want you to go.’

His hand rests lightly on your leg. 

You open your eyes and gaze up at him, and he’s sitting so close to you. ‘But if you stay, you’re going to see me touching myself.’ Then you smile at him, remembering your last conversation. ‘I would love for you to see that. As a friend.’

You want him to see you. You want him to participate.

He smiles and leans down to you, and runs the blade of his nose up your cheek. ‘I can’t think of anything more wonderful after a long, hard day, my dear friend.’

Halsin lays down beside you and props his head against his fist. With gentle fingers, he helps you to drag your underwear down your legs and cast them aside. As your teeth sink into your lower lip, you gently touch yourself, your eyes on his handsome face. Halsin strokes your thighs, your stomach, finds the fastenings on your clothes and loosens them. As he pulls back your bodice, revealing your breasts, he lowers his head to take one of your nipples in his mouth. 

You cry out and flex up into him. Heat is gathering within you. You suck on your lower lip and release it. ‘Please--your fingers--I need--’ you manage between pants. You can barely get the words out, but he understands. Halsin drags two fingers through your sex, making them slippery, and then sinks them inside you. 

Another loud cry from you. Gods, he feels perfect.

Halsin groans and kisses your throat, murmuring, ‘You’re so tight around me. Have you been as frustrated as I am?’ He pumps his thick fingers in and out of you, slowly at first, and then faster.

Yes you have, the godsdamned stubborn bear of man. He should have pulled you into his arms that day in the river and let you suck all the frustration from his body out through his cock. 

‘So frustrated,’ you whimper. ‘Please, that feels so good. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.’ 

He brushes his lips over yours. ‘I won’t stop. You’re always so beautiful, but like this, all of nature pales in comparison.’

You reach down and lay your hand over his wrist, adoring the tension and flex of his muscles in his arm as he moves inside you. Your fingers keep moving on your clit as you moan and cry out his name, and when you come you dig your nails into his flesh, and press your feet into the ground so he can fuck you even harder with his fingers.

When you fall back exhausted, Halsin sits up and spreads your thighs open, trailing his fingers over your sex and drinking in the sight of you as you catch your breath. ‘Your body is wondrous.’ He leans over and kisses you, his tongue caressing yours. ‘Will you rest well tonight?’ 

You nod, feeling drunk from his kiss and your climax. 

He smiles. ‘Then I’ll rest well too, knowing that you’re sleeping soundly. Thank you for sharing this beautiful moment with me.’

As he sits up, you notice that he’s hard inside his tight pants. Excessively hard. Huge in fact. He shouldn’t be leaving, he should be pulling off his clothes and pounding the living daylights out of you until he also gets the release he needs. 

But he’s gone before you can call him back to you. That’s not why he just blew your mind, was it? He healed you, and now he wants you to get some rest. Druid’s orders, apparently. 

You smile and roll over, and fall into a doze. 

***

The next morning, before anyone has arisen, Halsin finds you coming back from the river. You smile at him, thinking he looks so handsome in the morning light, and you expect him to keep moving past you. Instead, he stops and smiles at you, as if basking in the sight of you is all he wants right now. 

‘May I have a kiss?’ you ask hopefully. Perhaps he’s decided not to want anything for himself right now, but he still wants to make you happy. 

Without needing to be asked twice, Halsin grasps you around the waist with his large hands and walks you back against the wall, kissing you enthusiastically. ‘I can still smell you on my fingers this morning. I could smell you all night. You are a delight.’

Your lips part for his so he can kiss you even deeper. With your arms around his neck, you revel in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 

‘I find you irresistible.’ Another kiss. ‘But we have much to do today.’ Another kiss. 

‘We do,’ you say, smiling as he kisses you again. 

He gazes down at you for a moment, a slight frown between his brows. ‘If you need more, know that I won’t be offended if you take another lover. Nature intends for us to roam and be free.’

You have considered that, if not someone at camp, then a handsome stranger at a tavern, but you’d only be thinking about Halsin the whole time. ‘And if I don’t want to?’

‘You must do as pleases you,’ he replies, and kisses you again.

You guess that he didn’t tell you this for idle reasons, but to let you know about his own preferences. You reach up and stroke your fingers through his russet hair. ‘I have always wanted my own person, but to roam with them. Share everything with them. I would miss you too much if I was to roam without you.’

He smiles down at you. ‘Us, with others? I would like that, in time. You’re more than enough for me, but I wouldn’t wish for you to be denied anything. Seeing you with another lover, and participating as well...it sounds wonderful.’ Then he steps away from you. ‘But we are getting ahead of ourselves. My thoughts turn to other things for now. But they will turn back to you.’

With a final warm squeeze of your hand, he leaves you, but your heart is lighter than it’s been in a long time. 

***

Two nights later, you’re awoken by snarling and roaring in the distance, and you sit bolt upright. It sounds like two large animals are fighting in the woods. 

Only Astarion is awake. ‘What a ridiculous racket,’ he mutters with a scowl, before licking his thumb and turning the page of the book he’s reading. 

You look over at Halsin’s pallet, knowing it’s going to be empty before you lay eyes on it, but your stomach drops just the same when you see that it is. You scramble to your feet and set off at a run into the darkness. 

You follow the roaring and snarling and it doesn’t take long to find two bears fighting with teeth bared and swipes of their claws. You recognise Halsin from the scars over his eye.

What can you do to help him? A spell? A cantrip?  

Before you can decide, Halsin swipes the other bear so hard across the snout that it reels back, and then turns and runs away into the woods. 

Halsin paces up and down for a moment, and then golden light ripples, nearly blinding you, and when you open your eyes again, he’s striding toward you. His chest is heaving and blood is pouring from scratches and bites across his shoulders and throat. Nothing life threatening, but he’d be in pain if he wasn’t so angry.

‘That bear was looking for a mate, and I wasn’t having it prowling around her when I haven’t even tasted her myself.’

Halsin when he’s feeling himself wouldn’t say something so uncharacteristically possessive. It must be the mating season instincts overriding his natural feelings. ‘That bear wouldn’t have been interested in me.’ Also, you could have tasted me by now if you’d wanted to.

He doesn’t seem to have heard you as he glares into the darkness. Suddenly, he rounds on you. ‘It’s dangerous out here. You shouldn’t have come. Go back to bed.’

You fold your arms and stay where you are. The big alpha bear can throw his weight around, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to jump to obey his commands. ‘Shouldn’t have come? Would you have ignored me if I was being attacked in the woods?’

Halsin takes a deep breath and some of the anger melts from his face. He pushes his hands through his hair and shakes his head. ‘Of course not, I would never abandon you like that. Thank you for coming out here to help me. I promise I’m not ungrateful. I’m all out of sorts because...’ He gestures vaguely at himself and the woods around you both. 

You smile at him. ‘I know. It’s mating season.’

You help him pick dirt and gravel out of his cuts before he casts healing magic on himself, but you’re not ready to leave him and go to bed. The river is close by and you take his hand and lead him to the water. 

‘Let’s wash the blood and dirt off you.’

At the riverbank, hesitantly you reach for his clothes. He says nothing but he’s watching you with such intensity, and so you find the fastenings and help him out of them. With gentle fingers, he does the same for you. The night air is warm and still. Crickets are chirping and the river makes gentle rushing noises. The two of you are standing so close that you’re breathing each other’s breaths. His massive chest lifts and falls. Your nipples tighten with awareness of him. You don’t want to stare but you can’t help but look at this beautiful man as you undress him. 

Halsin helps you out of your underwear, and his cock bumps against your thigh. He’s so hard that he’s standing to attention, his foreskin drawn back, a drop of pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters, and you want to run your tongue along the thick vein that stands out on his shaft.

‘Sorry. Ignore me,’ he mutters. 

You don’t want to ignore the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen, but you keep your hands to yourself and look up at him. ‘I want to feel flattered. Should I feel flattered?’

‘You know I think you’re wonderful,’ he breathes, caressing your face. 

Oh, by all the gods, then fuck me, please. 

‘Would you want me even if it wasn’t mating season?’

‘Of course I would, though I’d probably be better at keeping that to myself. You wouldn’t awaken to hear me fighting other bears in the woods, or see me staring at you with longing across the campfire. I’d still feel the same way, but I wouldn’t be so obvious about it. Probably.’

‘Do you mind that mating season makes you feel and act this way?’

He smiles and shakes his head. ‘It is who I am, and another connection I have to nature.’

‘Halsin. For a wildshape druid who believes in going with what’s natural, you’re very stubborn about resisting what your body is telling you it wants.’

A smile curves his lips. ‘You may be right. I’ve told myself that focusing on the Shadow Curse is the right and only thing to do, but...’

Halsin ducks his head and slants his mouth over yours. The kiss is so fierce and sudden, and pleasure takes a swan dive through your body. He wraps his arms around you and gathers you to him.

‘This isn’t how I imagined things between us,’ he murmurs. ‘I intended to come to you after the curse is lifted and declare my feelings for you, and tell you that my unburdened heart is yours.’ 

‘Please still do that,’ you breathe, planting soft kisses again and again on his mouth. ‘I would love that. But don’t walk away from me now.’ 

‘You want me, even though my mind is often on things other than you?’

What a romantic Halsin is, wanting to give you his whole heart at once, or nothing at all. ‘Of course I do,’ you tell him, your fingers stroking his bare back. You don’t need that declaration yet. You just need him. 

Halsin lifts you in his arms and carries you into the water, gazing into your eyes. The water flows around your bodies as he kisses you and places you on your feet.

He nods at something over your shoulder. ‘I have to taste you. Turn around and put your hands on that rock.’

You do as he asks, standing thighs-deep in the water and bent over with your hands braced against the river bank. Halsin kneels down in the water and cups your ass. 

‘So beautiful...’ You feel his tongue run up your sex, and you moan and close your eyes. He’s slow and languorous about it. Not trying to make you come, just tasting you thoroughly and enjoying the sensation of you against his tongue. 

Halsin stands up and when you glance over your shoulder you see him gazing at your sex as he strokes you with his fingers and fists his cock slowly up and down. 

‘Can I have you, sweet one?’ he asks huskily. 

‘Please, gods, yes .’ You’ll go crazy if he holds back a moment longer.

You feel him step closer, and the blunt head of his cock slides against your slippery entrance. He feels alarmingly thick and you take a deep breath and try to relax. 

With a muttered oath, he sinks into you. As much of him as he can, anyway. Gods, he’s a lot . You walk your feet apart, trying to accommodate more of him. 

‘Too much?’ he asks, hesitating. 

You shake your head desperately. ‘Not too much. More, please.’

He fucks you slowly, working himself deeper by delicious increments, while your cries fill the night air along with his ragged breathing. His blunt nails scratch your flesh. He roughly squeezes handfuls of your ass. 

You reach down between your legs and touch yourself, and you grow wetter and wetter, allowing him to fuck you in long, smooth strokes. Every single one makes your insides light up. Your orgasm is barrelling down on you surprisingly fast. 

‘Please, fuck me hard, I’m going to come,’ you beg him. 

Halsin groans and takes your hips in a secure grip and slams into you, over and over, hard, brutal and heavenly thrusts. You push against the rock to hold you steady as a wild, untamable sensation crashes over you, and you cry out loud enough for the whole forest to hear you. 

Your head is hanging low and you’re panting as you feel Halsin draw out of you.

‘But you haven’t come,’ you protest, straightening up and turning around. It’s what you want, to see and feel this beautiful man let go. 

He takes your hand and helps you out of the river. ‘I’m not done with you yet.’

He lays back on the grass and pulls you astride him so your thighs are straddling him. ‘I want to see you like this as well.’

Hungry for more, you grasp his cock and sink down his length. Halsin groans and his head tips back, and he squeezes both your breasts in his large hands. His throat is so beautiful, and so is his chest. You draw patterns in his chest hair as you move up and down his length. 

Weeks of frustration and wanting him haven’t been fulfilled by one climax, and soon you feel another one gathering within you. He watches you with a smile as you desperately moan and pant his name. As your cries reach a crescendo, Halsin plants his feet securely against the ground and pushes sharply up into you, over and over, making you shatter around him even harder than before.

You collapse forward on his chest, weakened and helpless, his cock still lodged deep inside you. 

‘That was wonderful,’ you moan, your cheek plastered against his chest. ‘Give me a moment and we can change positions. I’m not stopping until you come.’

He rubs circles on your back. ‘I think I might shift into wildshape if we keep going. I can feel the need getting stronger and stronger.’ 

‘I don’t mind. Your bear form is pretty sexy.’

He laughs softly, a surprised sound. ‘Really? I’m pleased you think so.’

Even sexier is the way he looks while he’s changing, his body even bulkier and hair sprouting everywhere. ‘Can you change part ways?’

His hand stops moving on your back as he considers this. ‘I can. I think it might be easier for me to maintain that, rather than one or the other.’

Halsin rolls you both over until you’re on your back in the grass and pinned beneath him. With a heavy hand on your inner thigh, he pushes your knees up to your chest and thrusts deeper, and then again. 

‘By Silvanus, you feel wonderful,’ he pants.

A ripple goes through his body. His eyes turn fiercely golden. The hair thickens across his chest and spreads over his shoulders and down his arms. His top lip pulls back from his teeth, revealing thick incisors. His cock swells to what feels like twice its size inside you. You gaze at him in wonder. He looks incredible like this. 

As he continues to pump his cock into you, you press your hands against his muscular, hairy stomach, struggling to accommodate all of him. 

‘I’m hurting you,’ he realises, his voice more growl than words. ‘I can change back.’

‘No, don’t stop. Just slow down for a moment. It’s a good problem to have.’ You reach down to the place where you’re joined and wrap your fingers around his slippery thickness. Gods, that’s wonderful. So is his bulk looming over you and the rich, animal scent of his body. He thrusts carefully, watching you closely, his golden gaze roaming over you. 

‘So beautiful, sweet one,’ he rumbles. ‘Are you sure you like me like this?’

‘Yes, oh gods, yes.’

With every thrust, it’s getting easier for him to slide his whole length deep inside you, and pleasure stabs through you every time he bottoms out. 

You reach up and cup his furred cheek. ‘I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re even sexier like this. How does it feel for you?’

He groans and seems to take courage from your words. ‘Like I’m finally free. No longer fighting what I crave.’ The speed of his thrusts pick up, and he devours you hungrily. ‘You’re so good to me.’  

His breathing becomes a throaty snarl. His claws dig lovingly into your thigh. His hips move in a relentless rhythm, long thrusts, and then shorter, urgent ones, and you can tell he’s nearing his peak. You hold onto his shoulders for dear life as his body stiffens and his climax breaks through him, and he throws his head back.

With a groan, he sinks down onto his elbow and buries his face in your throat. As you hold him tight, you feel him shift back to his human form, his skin smooth and damp with perspiration. 

Halsin lifts his head and kisses you. ‘I’ve never done anything like that before. Was it all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?’

You hasten to assure him that he didn’t and it was everything you wanted.

He smiles. ‘How wonderful you are.’

You stroke his sweaty hair back. Neither have I. You’re so beautiful always, and especially seeing you like that, through wildshape eyes.’

He rolls onto his side in the grass and wraps both his arms around you, keeping you tight against his chest. ‘I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. The world feels so much better now I have you in my arms.’

‘How long does mating season last?’ you ask. You hope it’s a long time, and he needs you often. 

He laughs, a deep sound reverberating through his chest. ‘It’s every moment I lay eyes on you, sweet one.’

‘I hope that I haven’t distracted you from your duties.’

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m more motivated than ever.’

You lay like that together in the grass until Halsin feels your cooling body shiver. 

He helps you to your feet and draws you into his arms for one last, tender kiss. Cradling your face in his hands, he murmurs, ‘You are the person I admire most in the world. I feel honoured by every moment I spend by your side.’ He kisses you again. ‘Know that I can’t wait until I’m able to tell you that my whole heart is yours.’

Thank you so much for reading. Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! Or tell me how the Halsin brainrot is affecting you while playing BG3. I have just about no braincells left by now. Only Daddy Bear remains. 

[fastandcarlos]

Leo’s Little Love : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: the birth of your daughter was supposed to be the happiest moment for you and charles, but both of you forgot about leo too

Your little family had almost been complete for quite some time. You, Charles and Leo. The perfect trio. Why fix something that isn’t broke? Why add to the chaos of your crazy lives? Well, because you both couldn’t wait to become parents. 

It never was meant to be so soon, neither you or Charles had planned to fall pregnant quite so suddenly but your life had always been mayhem, and pregnancy was just another cog to add to the wheel of things that you needed to juggle together.  

It had been touch and go for quite some time as your baby’s arrival loomed. With just two weeks to go Charles had never been happier to see the start of the summer break which meant at last he could be glued to your side and be there just in case anything happened. 

Being at home was something that Charles very quickly got used to, laid out on the sofa with you tucked into his side. Charles didn’t always get his own way though, with Leo snuggled just underneath your bump to block Charles holding onto it. 

“I wonder how he’s going to be.” 

Your attention was pulled from your book when Charles spoke, following his gaze down to where Leo laid, snoring lightly with his eyes tight shut. 

“What do you mean?” You asked him. 

“I’m just thinking about when the baby arrives, do you think Leo will respond well to not being the centre of our attention anymore?” Charles questioned. 

Your eyes flickered between Charles and Leo and your bump as you pondered Charles’ question. Truthfully, it was something that you had never quite thought about before, but if there was one word that you’d use to describe Leo, it was definitely needy.  

“I think he’ll enjoy having someone else to be around,” you spoke after a few moments. 

“He’ll definitely love an extra body to cuddle up to.” 

It was almost as if he knew that you were talking about him, as Leo’s head lifted up and his wide eyes looked at you both as if to remind you that he could hear everything.  

“You know, I’ve got a feeling that Leo and this baby might just end up being the best of friends, I definitely think we’re going to have trouble on our hands.” 

Ever since that conversation you pictured how your family, or especially Leo, would adapt to the baby, counting down the days until all those dream scenarios became a reality.  

And just a couple of weeks later your little girl arrived. It was tougher than you could have ever imagined, but with Charles not leaving your side for the many hours that you were in labour for, your family was soon complete. Charles was an emotional mess beside you, but through his tears he knew that he’d just experienced the best moments of his entire life. 

You might’ve been a little bit bias, but your baby girl was the definition of perfect. Straight away you were drawn to her bright eyes, a striking resemblance to Charles’. They captured your attention, just like Charles’ had done many years ago when the two of you first met.  

And as Charles held her for the first time and you got your first look at the two of them side by side, you knew you had a daddy’s girl on your hands. She was instantly besotted, settled and comfortable in Charles’ strong hold, almost as if you were the one who was intruding on the moment between your husband and your child despite being the one to bring her into the world. 

“It’s a good job we’ve got Leo otherwise I think I’d be outnumbered at home with you two,” you joked as Charles made himself comfortable.  

You knew deep down though you wouldn’t have Leo for long, as the two of you arrived home with your daughter. It had been a couple of days since he got to see you and Charles, unaware that a new arrival was waiting on the other side of the door to greet him too. 

Together you took things slowly as you returned to your apartment, Charles took Leo into your bedroom whilst you settled in the living room with your daughter. Once you were sure that she was settled you called through to Charles who poked his head out from behind the bedroom door. 

“Are you absolutely sure about doing this now?” Charles nervously asked you. 

“Charles, we’re going to have to do it sooner or later. We might as well get it over with whilst they’re both pretty settled.” 

He trusted you more than anyone, and so Charles decided to open the bedroom door and allow Leo to come out. It was as if nothing was going on as if strolled through the apartment, that was until his eye was caught by the carrier that sat on your living room floor. Charles came over and sat beside you, his hand on your thigh as Leo began to inspect. 

Leo had a little sniff around the carrier as he familiarised with the something new that had entered his home. After giving him a moment you reached into the carrier and lifted your daughter out, holding her just in front of where Leo was. 

It took a little while for Leo to stop fussing over your daughter, looking up at you and Charles. His eyes told the two of you that he approved of your little girl, walking away from her once he was happy with what was going on. 

“See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.” 

Your words were truer than ever though that night as Charles laid on your bed with his daughter laid just beside him. You walked through after taking an overdue shower, surprised to see that there was another addition to your bed. They say that three is a crowd, but not in this case. 

Your heart felt like it could burst as your daughter laid between Charles on her left, and Leo on her right, his head almost touching hers as if to reassure her that he was right beside her too. 

Charles’ eyes knew exactly where you were looking. You were supposed to be annoyed that your side of the bed had been stolen, but instead it was a memory that you wanted to snapshot for the rest of your life. 

You were sure that you had never seen anything so beautiful in your life, Leo had made sure your daughter was well protected and surrounded by love. Even Charles couldn’t get as close to her as Leo was, firmly establishing himself as her number one. 

Just like you, Charles couldn’t fault the scene that was unfolding in front of you though. Things had gone better than either of you could have ever imagined, all of the concerns that Charles had had long been forgotten now that your family of four were all home together.  

“Why do I feel like we’re never going to be allowed near our daughter ever again?” Charles laughed across at you. 

“I think out of the three of us, she’s definitely Leo’s love before she’s ours,” you added, unable to wipe the smile from your face. “I think they’re going to be the best of friends.” 

Charles hummed in agreement with you, tilting his head down to watch them both once again. If he could pause time forever, he absolutely would. It was all that he had ever dreamt of, and so much more. 

“We’ve got the two most beautiful children in the world.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗