#i was feeling just a bit of Longing so i decided to go back and read this post about it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hyuny-bunny · 2 days ago

Text

seasons // series

part iii

summary: your bestfriend minho will go lengths to keep you all to himself

warnings: drinking, attempted drugging, threat of violence, male masturbation, mention of past relationships and cheating

part ii • part iv

You felt the warm sunlight filtering through the blinds of the window of your apartment, skin hot the touch. It didn't help the heat of Minho's body pressed against you made it so easy to relax into him, you subconsciously pressed your face further into his chest as his arms laid around you lazily. Cuddling wasn't a foreign concept to the two of, sometimes he needed it just as badly as you did. You shift to get up from his grip feeling his arms tighten around you to keep you in his grip but the overwhelming urge to pee forced you to pry yourself from his grip.

He peeled one eye open to see you walking quitely to the bathroom, the soft scuffling of your socks against the floor as he trailed his eyes up to your ass watching a small curve of it peek out beneath the shorts, the shorts having rode up your body as you slept. He let out a soft "hmph" as he closed his eyes again, adjusting his position on the couch. He made no move to get off the couch wanting to see if you'd come crawling back in his arms once you relieved yourself.

He was met with disappointment hearing you make your way to the kitchen undoubtedly making coffee. The two of you shared a love of coffee that led to many study dates at cafes, hangouts at cat cafes (his preferred choice of leisure activities, and coffee shop hopping once a month. He sat up on the couch seeing you had washed up and decided it would be fitting he do the same.

You look up as he walks towards your bathroom, bed hair tossed, the sleepy grumpy expression on his face as his long sleeve shirt clung to his body hugging the outlines of his muscles that made you salivate.

"Coffee?" You called out to him.

"Is that even a question?" He responded in his morning voice that made you clench your thighs.

He typically only drank americanos to keep his sugar intake low with how much he danced and worked out, fortunately for him you kept a solid amount of americano concentrate in your kitchen. You made a small breakfast for the two of you; eggs, toast, some bacon, and fruit on the side. You weren't the best cook, having left that skill up to Minho throughout college, baking was your forte. He had no complaints when he'd come to your place to make dinner for the two of you only to be rewarded with a plate full of cookies you made before he got there, or when you decided to trial run recipes looking for his approval and feedback.

"Are you still going out tonight?" He asked looking up through his long lashes as he bit into his toast, the act far too hot for something so normal.

"Uh, yeah. Felix and Han are gonna come by later. Changbin is our DD and 'escort' as Han likes to say." You say with a soft laugh remembering the look of annoyance on his face the first time Han called him that.

"Where?" There was a hint of sternness to his voice that caught you by surprise.

"This place called Layla's, fairly new club but omegas get in free on the 2nd saturday of every month."

He hummed in acknowledgment as he seemed to fixate on something on his plate. You ate quietly, unspoken words lingered in the air, as you are about to speak he breaks the tension.

"Just don't do anything stupid? Don't go home with someone just because you think it's what you need to do." There was a certain bite to his words, that struck something sensitive in you.

"Are you implying I'm stupid enough to just go sleep with anyone?"

"No... I'm just saying you've had some pretty poor taste in guys before." There it is again.

"In what way?"

"How long did you stay with your ex after you found he was cheating on you?"

His words felt like the wind was knocked out of you. He looked at you sorrowful, regretting the words already

"My bad.. didn't know getting on cheated was my fault."

"That's not what I-"

"No, I got the message loud and clear. You think I'm too incompetent to make solid judgments around the people I fuck or date. I don't need your approval, Minho. I'm a grown woman and can decide what I want for myself." You could see the sting of hurt in his face. He stared down at his plate trying to avert the fire and hurt in your gaze wanting to just scoop you in his arms and kiss the pain of it away.

Instead he chose the grimace, muttering a quick sorry before saying he needed to go home. He grabbed his sweater and keys leaving you at the table still simmering in anger and hurt. He closed the door so gently you wished he had slammed it.

He let his frustrations get the best of him in a moment of weakness.

It was around 6pm when Han and Felix were knocking at your apartment. As thanks to Changbin for being designated driver, they all brought stuff for dinner so no one was drinking on an empty stomach.

"Why so glum?" Felix asked gently as you played some food.

"Minho said something that pissed me off... I just want to have a good night now. So cheer me up!"

Felix gave you a knowing look, he wanted the whole story. Minho wasn't the type to just accidentally say something hurtful, there were very few occasions where the two of you ever genuinely argued.

"He told me not to do anything stupid... then said I had poor taste in guys-"

"Is he wrong?"

"Not in that aspect, no. He's not wrong. What really hurt was his implication that I was too stupid to make good judgements of people and imply I was stupid for staying with my ex after I found out he cheated on me.." It came out so rushed there was no stopping the words.

Felix paused looking over you face, sighing softly as he smoothed a hand over your hair.

"He's wrong for how he said it.. That doesn't change the fact that he's just looking out for you. Read between the lines."

I nod softly as we start to eat, chatting up our game plan.

"Okay so Laylas first, and if that doesn't work out, we go to Wolfborne." Han said firmly as he shoved a dumpling in his mouth.

"What's at Wolfborne?"

He smirked, winking as he began to ramble.

"There's a secret club in the back of the bar, lot of hot HOT people. Most people only get in via invite or because the know a bartender.."

"How did you get in?" Felix asks.

"Our lovely little friend, Jeongin, is a barback on saturday nights." Han says while stretching his arms behind his back.

Jeongin was a music major like Han, he was an alpha, a bit meek but so very very handsome. You pondered the idea, he was a bit younger but not to be confused for inexperienced.

"Alright.. I'll bite." You said with a shrug, Felix nodded in agreement.

"Fuck yes, I'm gonna text him to put us on the list." Han said rushing to retrieve his phone.

We made our way to my room as Han dug through your closest to find you an outfit. Felix held your face as we sat in my bathroom as he worked on your eyeshadow. He was master at doing a smokey black eye, running the smudgy line across your eyes that made them look seductive yet fierce. He added the lightest bit of shimmer to the eyes so the light would reflect on them in the club. he dabbed your lips in a red color that made your lips kooky vampy and just bitten, a perfect contrast to your features.

"Okay, outfit is picked, thoughts?" Han said holding up the lacey black dress, completely see through but with the right underwear and accessories it could be tasteful. The cups of the dress had a nude lining so wearing no bra be no issues, the sleeves had a dainty ruffle strap similar to the the trim of the hem.

"Hot... Really hot," Felix said glancing at me, to confirm my reaction. It was a bit out of your comfort zone but the desperation to be spiteful towards Minho.

"Exactly what I need." You said letting a shaky sigh out.

After getting dressed and fixing your hair to sit nicely, the three of you continued pre-gaming until Changbin arrived. Once he was finished eating, the night began.

Minho was blowing up Changbins phone, texting him every minute of where you guys were.

ping

where are you guys going first?

ping

how many guys are there?

ping

what is she wearing?

ping

can you see her?

ping

has anyone approached?

ping

don't let her wander off alone

ping

stay by her side

ping

don't let felix drag her to the dance floor

Changbin rolled his in annoyance as the alpha demanded to know where she was at all times.

"Changbinnie!~ take my photo pleassee" His eyes drifted up to see the omega pleading with him to take her photo, he agreed deciding to take it on his phone to send to Minho. You stand posed against the bar top holding the cherry from your drink to your lips in a seductive way as he snapped the photo. He sent it to Minho knowing how it would rile him up.

Minho was laying on his bed staring up at the ceiling irritated by Changbins lack of responses. He was only asking to keep an eye on you, he grew irritated by the idea that you were out in a club with the prying eyes of other Alphas watching with only one thing on his mind. When his phone buzzed he looked down expecting to see Changbin telling him off that you were phone. What he wasn't expecting was to see you wearing that godforsaken black lace dress, holding a cherry to your lips in the most seductive way. He felt the blood rushing to his cock at the sight.

The sight of your fleshy thighs at the bottom of the screen, his mind running through the image of his face buried between them. His cock strained against his boxers at the realization that he could see the black lacey panties through the dress... The dress was so see through he could make out the entire outline of your body beneath the fabric, thanks to the flash of the camera. His eyes dragged up your body in the photo to the waist he often had a had around when the two of you were out in public. Finally zeroing in on your perky breasts that gave you the most glorious visual of them pressed to your chest. He wanted to drive down there, throw you over his shoulder to take you home, ripping that dress to shreds and bury himself inside your body.

He opted to stroking his hard length to the sultry image of you instead, picturing what it'd be like to pin you down beneath him, pumping you so full of his cock that it ruined you for any man that dared to pursue you.

The alcohol buzzed through your system as you danced with Felix and Han, feeling like you had gone to heaven and back. You body felt loose and any thoughts of what you originally came here for, had left your mind. You stopped momentarily whisper yelling to Han, "Going to grab another drink!"

He nodded as he looked back watching you disappear out of the crowd towards the bar, you looked over to where Changbin had been to see a girl was talking to him while feeling out the muscles in his arms. Shaking your head laughing you turned to waive the bartender over. Before the bartender could get to you, an unwelcome hand slid at your waist as you looked to meet the eyes of a man who was likely no more then a few inches taller then you, he reeked of cigarettes, alcohol, and smoothing musky that was unsettling.

"Can I buy a pretty thing like you a drink?" He asked as you pushed his hand away, he kept it smooth to your body as he slid it down over your ass with a snarl on your face.

"I don't take drinks from strangers, and I sure as hell don't take unwelcomed advances from them either." You said rolling your eyes and putting some distance.

"My name is Sejun, now we're not strangers." He said with a smirk as he eyed your figure. "At least let me buy your drink and keep you company till it's done."

You shouldn't but you allowed for it anyways. At least you would be getting a free drink out of it. The bartender took your order as Sejun began sizing you up, asking if you were alone, if you came with someone. Praying for any information that would indicate whether you had company.

The bartender dropped the drinks in front of him taking the cash, Sejun grabbed the drinks from the top of the rim sliding mine over to me.

"Well stranger, here's to a good night," He said smirking as he clinked his glass against us yours. As you brought the drink to your lips, you were caught off guard by the hand that immediately covered the drink and cause you to kiss the back of the hand. You irritation had peeked as you looked up at the stranger who had stopped you but you were met with shock when the hand took your drink holding it Sejun.

"How about you take the first taste?" The tall stranger held it to Sejun, the pieces began to click as you saw the all familiar look of someone who had been caught.

"What the fuck man-"

"Drink it. Drink it or I smash this glass right into your fucking head and drag you out back breaking every bone in your hands." Sejun took the drink hesitantly, bringing it to his lips as he drank the whole thing... Fear struck his face as he ran to the bathroom pushing through the crowd as the security clocked him, head directly for him.

This fucker had tried to spike your drink.

You finally saw the face of the stranger who had stopped you from a fate worse then death. The adrenaline pumped through you at the reality of what could have happened as you clutched the counter top of the bar.

"Sorry about that, I saw him stalking people in here and wasn't sure when he was gonna act. Let me get the the bartender to make you a new one."

The handsome stranger said as he pulled a barstool seat out for you to sit in. He was beautiful, dark hair cut into a wolf cut with soft waves that framed his pretty face. Lips full and pink that compliment the sharp eyes on his face.

"You alright? You look a little dazed." He asked as he pushed a strand of hair from your face.

"Yeah I... sorry the adrenaline of that situation might've just sobered me up."

"Sorry I didn't mean to frighten you but I couldn't just let that prick do something unforgivable." The bartender placed the new drink down, the stranger placed a napkin over it before putting it in front of me. The gesture of it didn't go unnoticed as he gave me a sweet look.

"Thank you. For stepping in like that... I don't know many people that would've or who would've have the vigilance to stop it."

"I can't take credit for human decency but I will say it gave me the perfect opportunity to approach you. I'm Hyunjin by the way." He smiled sweetly as he extended his hand out.

Chivalry, how sweet.

"I'm Y/N. Finally I have name to tell my story to my friends about my knight in shining black leather." You said playfully taking a sip of the vodka soda that settled your nerves.

He laughed at your joke, his eyes creasing in the cutest way, a stark contrast to what he looked like seconds ago when he threatened that guy.

The two of you casually talked, while Felix and Han looked around the room noticing it had been a while since you had left. They zeroed in on the close proximity of the stranger who sized you up, smiling ear to ear at everything you said. Noticing the way he dragged your stool closer to him so he could cage your crossed legs in with his, extending his leg to rest on bottom of your stool. His arm on the back of your seat as he leaned in to whisper in your ear as he pushed back your hair running the back of his hand down your exposed neck and shoulder. Changbin had glanced tom the dance floor to see Felix and Han gawking at something, he followed their gaze now settling in on the man who kissed you fervently.

oh fuck... minho is gonna kill him

part iv

#skz smut #skz scenarios #skz hard thoughts #skz imagines #skz x you #hyunjin x reader #lee know x reader #lee know smut #lee know imagines #skz x reader #hyunjin smut #lee know x you

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marauder-misprint · 23 hours ago

Note

happy 500 followers i’m so happy for you!!

can you write 62 for the dialogue prompt with remus? maybe she’s james’ sister and a flirt just like him. bc jealous rem ✅✅ they’re dumb for each other but sooo oblivious

Thank you for the request ❤︎

I definitely had a moment writing where I was laughing to myself. You flirt with Remus for years: James has no problem. You say one flirtatious line to Sirius: James asks what's wrong with you.

What you need

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader

2.9k words

cw: fluff, mutual pining, angst

You and James were dual threats. Quidditch stars, academic weapons when you chose to be, friendly, attractive and flirtatious. He had his sights set on Lily and you had yours on Remus. Your methods, however, differed. While James showered Lily with compliments and asked her out daily, you had a more gentle approach. You were drawn to Remus, plenty happy to just sit in his presence. You showered him with compliments as well and made him the center of your world, but you felt that, like Lily, he didn’t reciprocate your feelings.

You didn’t let it deter you though. You knew he was more reserved than the rest of the Marauders. You decided you would play the long game and wait. He would ask you out. Eventually.

You collapsed next to Remus on the couch in the common room with an exaggerated sigh. You leaned your head on his shoulder to see what book he was reading.

“The various color changes in the wiggenweld brewing process are essential to the process and without them, the potion will be rendered useless. Substitutions, while appropriate in other potions, will drastically reduce the effectiveness,” you read over his shoulder. “Merlin, Moony, what are you reading? I know Slug didn’t assign this.”

“Just reading up on healing potions. Never know when you’ll need one,” he said.

You hummed and adjusted your body so you were closer to him.

“Must be something more interesting going on now, though, right?”

“Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail all have detention.”

“I know,” you laughed. “Maybe we could do something! You know, just the two of us!”

You tried to not sound too excited at the idea. It was a rare opportunity that the other three had detention while you and Remus got off scot-free.

“Oh, well, I was planning on reading…”

“You could read out loud?” you suggested, desperate for some attention from him. “Maybe I’d learn something.”

“No good at reading out loud,” he mumbled.

“It’d be good practice, Moons. You know I won’t judge. Plus, you have a nice voice.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his face turn a pink hue. You nudged him gently.

“Come on, read to me,” you sang softly.

Remus, feeling flustered, stood up.

“Please excuse me,” he said, leaving you on the couch alone.

You watched him retreat to his dorm with a frown on your face. Once again, it hadn’t gone as you had hoped. This wasn’t the first time you had alone time with Remus and he left just after you made him blush. You grumpily moved over into the spot he previously occupied. It was warm and faintly smelled of him; it was the second best thing right now.

It didn’t take long before Lily sat down in the squashy armchair near you.

“Why the long face Potter?” she asked. “Missing brother dearest and the troubled gang?”

You made a face at her, earning you a laugh. Oh, how James would’ve smiled and stared if he were here.

“They aren’t all in detention, Lils,” you told her.

“Well, you’re not. That would be at least one.”

“Ha,” you said dryly. “No, um, Remus is upstairs. Reading.”

“Huh. Doesn’t he usually read down here when they aren’t around?”

“Mhmm.” You took a deep breath. “He was for a bit.”

Lily nodded. “You’re in his spot, aren’t you?”

“Maybeeee,” you replied quietly, turning your face to look at the fire. “Smells like ‘im,” you added in a mumble.

She laughed again. “Potter, you’re doomed.”

You looked back at her so she could see you roll your eyes and then you returned your gaze to the flames. You knew you were doomed. You would follow Remus to the ends of the earth. You sat next to him whenever you could. You knew how he liked his tea and which quill was his favorite. You knew his ranking of tables in the library, the ones best for studying alone, studying in a group and prank planning. You knew which sweater was the comfiest because he wore it after every full moon. You adored him and he couldn’t seem to stand to be alone with you for more than a few minutes.

“So, what’d you say to him?”

“What?” Your head snapped back to Lily.

“He was reading in that spot and now he’s not. What made him go upstairs?”

“I asked him to read to me.”

“That all?”

You nodded, with a confused look on your face. If Lily thought it would’ve taken more to chase Remus away, perhaps something was up with Remus that you didn’t know about.

“Bit strange. I thought he would read to you,” she said lightly. Then she pulled out her own book and waved it in front of your face. “I could read to you if you want.”

“Not the same and you know it. But, if I were James…” you teased.

“If you were James, I’d be up in our dorm avoiding him.”

Like Remus is doing…

“You read. In your head. I’m going to the pitch... I need air.”

---

When you went to the pitch alone, you used it as a time to think, to clear your head. Did you need to practice because Gryffindor was playing Slytherin this week? Yes. But you also need to think. You’ve loved Remus for years and, well, something clicked while you were flying. He just didn’t like you that way and you had to make your peace with that.

You started small. You didn’t sit next to Remus at breakfast although you still had his tea ready for him when he arrived at the table. A look of confusion passed over his face when he saw you sitting between Sirius and Mary. He didn’t say anything about it, nor did anyone else.

Your next step was more direct. You sat next to Otto Bagman in your first class instead of Lily. That caught the eye of some people. Even more so when you let your hand linger on his shoulder longer than you should have and flashed him your brilliant smile. You laughed loudly at his lackluster jokes.

During the next class, you chose Stubby Boardman. And Gildeory Lockhart in the next. And Gideon Prewett. And Bertram Aubrey. Each got your flirtatious treatment. None made you feel like Remus did, but it was nice to have their attention.

At dinner, you pulled a move that none of them were expecting. You sat between Sirius and Mary like you had at breakfast. But you sat closer to Sirius than you usually did. It was a closeness you reserved solely for Remus.

The boys were discussing their next prank and determined that they would need to sneak into Slughorn’s private stores first in order to pull it off.

“I think Sirius should be the distraction. He’s got something super captivating about him, don’t cha think?” you said, leaning forward a bit.

You flashed him a soft smile as you rested your hand on his shoulder. If you hadn’t been looking at Sirius, you would’ve seen the glares that he immediately received from both James and Remus.

“Don’t know if Slug is particularly captivated by me, love,” Sirius said, looking down at you and matching your soft smile. Then a wicked glint appeared in his eyes as he turned back to the boys. “But, running in yelling about an exploding potion down the corridor? See how fast the old man can run!”

James’ expression changed in a flash. He slammed his hand down on the table.

“Brilliant, Padfoot!”

Remus, on the other hand, let his glare hold longer, only dropping it when Peter addressed him, asking him to repeat what they needed to get from storage. You remained close to Sirius for the rest of the meal as you offered your ideas for getting past Slughorn and for the actual prank. When you excused yourself after you finished, James followed you out of the hall and walked with you back to Gryffindor Tower.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” he asked.

“Obviously.”

“So then, what was that back there? What’s going on with you and Sirius?”

You stopped walking in shock. You spend years flirting with Remus and no comments from James, but one comment toward Sirius and now he’s suddenly concerned with your love life? James turned to fully face you and you frowned at the concern on his face.

“Nothing. There’s nothing between me and Sirius,” you said, sounding a bit incredulous.

“Then what the bloody hell was that comment at dinner? He’s like super captivating, he he he,” he mimicked in a falsetto.

You took a calculated step toward James while reaching for your wand.

“I do not sound like that.”

“What was the comment for then?” he repeated the question for the third time. “You don’t flirt with Padfoot.”

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes.

“I had… a moment of clarity. Obviously, Moony isn’t right for me and I’ll get over him with whoever I need to.”

You huffed before stalking away from your brother. He stood there and watched you leave, utterly shocked by what you said. Obviously was a strong word in his opinion. He thought the obvious thing was the effect you had on Remus; Remus was hopelessly in love with but too insecure to do anything and you were waiting for him to make a move.

You continued to flirt with the boys throughout the rest of the week, with Gideon being the main recipient. Being a fellow Gryffindor and on the quidditch team gave him an easy foot up over the rest. James didn’t say anything more to you, really just being glad it wasn’t Sirius but still showing his concern nonverbally from across the room.

When he could, Remus would find an excuse to leave whenever you were with Gideon. He couldn’t dismiss how sick it made him feel. Somehow he had been the one receiving your attention for so long that he didn’t realize how much of his day was actually spent with you around, and he didn’t realize how cold he’d feel without your warmth. Instead, he now had to watch Gideon bathe in your compliments and subtle touches. Remus hated it.

When the weekend came, the whole school descended on the quidditch pitch for an exciting game. Gryffindor versus Slytherin always brought excitement. Every student donned either green or red, even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. The game was a compilation of incredible plays and dirty moves. In the end, Gryffindor pulled through as your seeker caught the snitch. Usually, after a Gryffindor win, you’d search for Remus’ arms the moment you landed, but this time was different. You immediately found Gideon and let his arms be the ones to wrap around you and spin you around. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You didn’t mind that it wasn’t Remus; it was nice to be the one receiving the doting for once.

Gideon’s attention followed you all the way back to the common room for the party that ensued. You knew you had eyes on you - you could feel them. In the past, after a win, you’d have one drink in your hand and you’d nurse it while hanging around the outskirts of the party with Remus. You’d maybe do shots with James because no win was possible without the Potter Twins. This time, however, you were not standing around the edge of the party with Remus. Nor were you nursing a singular drink.

You were multiple drinks in and dancing with Gideon. His hands were traveling your body and you made no moves to stop him. You just kept moving to the music and taking sips of your drink.

Remus felt like throwing up at the sight. He had half a mind to walk up to you and tear you away from the ginger. He knew you could do better than Gideon, but if asked who, Remus would want to say himself, but was he better than Gideon? Once again, Remus let his insecurities get the best of him; he retreated to his dorm unable to watch you dance like that with another guy who wasn’t him.

You finished your drink and felt Gideon lean into your ear.

“Do you want to celebrate somewhere more… private?” he whispered.

You smiled at him before saying, “Refill first!”

James had been keeping an eye on you and Gideon for a while. He didn’t like the way that Gideon was touching you, just as much as he didn’t like how much you were drinking. You were certainly not in your right mind. He intercepted you on your way to the drink table.

“I’m cutting you off,” he said curtly before leading you to the stairs.

You pouted but allowed yourself to be ushered up to his dorm. In your head, you planned to sneak back down to the party the instant that James left you in his dorm. Once inside, he brought over to his bed and you sat down, crossing your arms.

“You need to sober up a bit. Um, here’s a water. You know extra blankets are in my trunk. Loo’s over there. Got your wand? Need anything else?”

You groaned in annoyance. “I’m fine, James,” you slurred. “But you know what I actually need.”

“Hm? What’s that?”

“To get over these damn feelings for Lupin!” you basically spat. “Can’t very well do that if I’m up here, can I? He won’t ask me out, won’t kiss me, can’t stand to be around me. Why you stopping me from moving on?”

“I-I…” he stuttered, trying not to look over at where Remus was sitting on his own bed with wide eyes. “I’m preventing you from making a decision you might regret.”

“James… James, James, James. I’m fine. Just let me get over being in love with Remus.”

James can’t help it. His eyes flickered to Remus. Yours immediately followed where his went. Remus was staring at you with a faint blush on his cheeks. Because why did you just say that you needed to get over being in love with him?

“Shit,” you muttered, falling back onto James’ bed. “Now I’ve said too much.”

“I’m… going to leave… and let you two… talk,” James said slowly, trying to sound casual and topping it off with snaps and finger guns.

“You’re… in love with me?” Remus asked nervously.

You made a noise that’s a mix of a scoff and laugh.

“Only been bloody head over heels for you for years, you twat.”

“You’ve been,” he muttered, not quite believing you.

“A girl can only flirt so hard,” you said with a heavy sigh.

“You were flirting?”

“With you. For years. Keep up, Lupin.”

There was a slight pause before he said softly, “You don’t call me Lupin.”

“I didn’t when I was in love with you.”

“Was?”

“Moony, Merlin’s fucking beard,” you exclaimed, propping yourself up on your elbows briefly. “Did you not just hear me tell James that I’m trying to get over you? You clearly don’t like me back so stop making it harder!”

You let yourself fall back onto James’ bed with a ‘humph.’ You stared up at the canopy. Then you felt the bed sink next to you and you don’t need to look over to know that Remus has joined you.

“You actually like me?” he whispered.

“If I have to say it one more time, I swear, Moony, I will curse-”

“You like me.” This time it was a statement. Remus doesn’t believe it yet, but he didn’t need you to finish your threat. “And it’s real. Not a prank or cruel joke or anything?”

You rolled onto your side so that you could see him.

“Stop pretending to be dense. It’s been hard enough coming to terms with you not liking me like that.”

“No!”

You blinked at him with a confused expression.

“Um, I… I do like you. Like that.”

“Remus… don’t tease me right now. You can’t stand to be alone with me for more than a minute.”

“Because I don’t trust myself to not kiss you.” He swallowed and allowed his eyes to flick down to your lips. “It’s easier to control myself when James, or anyone else, is around. But when it’s just you and me, and you say those sweet things… I just…”

“Those sweet things,” you repeated with quiet laughter. “You mean my flirting?”

“Yes. That.”

He stopped talking for a moment. He reached out to caress your face.

“I just thought you could do better than me.”

You scoffed at the idea that someone was able to be better than Remus.

“But seeing you with Aubrey, Lockhart, Bagman… Prewett…” Remus sighed. “It was hell.”

“So, what you’re saying is you’d like me to keep flirting with you and only you?” you asked softly before your teasing nature returned. “I don’t know about that, Moony. I might need something in return.”

“Anything.”

“Ask me out?”

“I… I can do that.” He cleared his throat. “Would you do me the honor of going on a date with me? Hogsmeade, next weekend?”

“Of course, you idiot,” you said before placing a quick kiss on his lips.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

You hummed.

“Never flirt with Prewett again. It was nauseating.”

You laughed. “Just kiss me until my brother comes back, Moony.”

#marauders #marauders fic #marauder-misprint #request #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin fluff

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lucifermonsii · 1 day ago

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Barrage x M!Reader

err sub reader n dom barrage hehehe (this man needs more fic.) Reader accidentally drinks Barrage's "milk"

It was a nice day, or so you thought. After a long day of training you've grown tired and exhausted, wanting nothing more but just to go grab a glass of water— or basically any type of liquid at this point. Eventually after some reps at a pull bar in the training room you've decided to head to your little office that had a mini fridge which you've kept tucked beneath a book shelve, it was cute and convenient. To be honest every high ranked officer had a pretty nice office, and lucky for you you've just been promoted to a chief warrant officer. Talk about the perks. Upon your arrival you're met with a familiar face who seems to be sitting on your couch with his feet on your coffee table, Barrage. Typical. Sometimes you'd wish you didn't give him the keys to your office. But what could you do? He was your best friend after all. The masked man stared at you through his shades, holding a monster can in one hand as he sits there. "The fuck are you doing in my office-" You scoffed at him before closing the office door behind you, shaking your head before you headed over to your mini fridge and crouched down to see what was left behind after Barrage's looting session. A singular glass of white liquid substance— to what you assumed was milk. What was that doing in your mini fridge? "Eh, why not? I'm tired of training rookies all day.." He murmurs before taking a sip of the carbonated beverage though the fabric of his balaclava as he glances over at you through his dark shades, although you couldn't really see his eyes you could feel his gaze upon you. The very gaze you've grown used to over the years. Your eyes lingers on the glass of milk for a moment too long, contemplating whether it was one of Barrage's trick or just a drink he kept for you. You've known this man long enough to know he isn't one to trust. Knowing his usual cheeky antics and tricks. "Barrage, why's there a glass of milk in my fridge?" You asked as you look over at him, now standing properly with the glass of milk in your hand as you waited for his answer. His gaze lingers on yours for a while before he answers. "Hm? Saved it for you, know you'd get thirsty.." Was all he said before looking forward and finishing off his beverage with a swig and placing the empty aluminum can on the coffee table before getting up and stretching, groaning in the process before his arms fell back to his sides. "Alright then.." You said slowly, gently swirling the glass in your hand as the white substance swirls in the glass slowly. It was unusually thick and a bit transparent for a milk, but what else can you drink after he finished your whole stock? So without a second thought you began to drink it. "I wasn't done talking." He says as he heads over to you, seeing as you've already chugged the whole glass and wiped off the access on your lips using your hands. "What is it..? The fuck did you do." You replied sternly as you furrowed your eyebrows at him, face slightly grimacing at the slightly thick liquid you had just swallowed down your throat. Turning around to look at him face to face. You weren't short no, in fact both of you are the same height— Is what you say knowing that he's just an inch taller. "It's not just any milk— its my milk." The male grins smugly before breaking into laughter, clutching his stomach as strings of giggles and snickers left his mouth uncontrollably. You on the other hand was absolutely disgusted. Eyebrows furrowed in disbelief as you stared at him, baffled and straight up speechless before your eyes glanced back at the now empty glass of semen in your hand. "BARRAGE WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?" You shouted at him, face flushed with embarrassment as your mind came to realize what you had done— Coughing, trying to get the liquid out of your throat was no use now since it had been fully digested. ⋆⭒˚.⋆ "you're so fucking disgusting.."

You hissed at him, pink tinted your cheeks as you kept a firm tone and your guards up— although you knew the whole experience had you aroused, the damn pervert you call your best friend made you drink his semen? God damn you were a sick person for enjoying it.. "your flushed face tells me other wise.." Was all he mused before letting go of your jaw to dip his thumb into the corner of your mouth, smearing the thick white liquid from your mouth to the corner of your lips. Grinning to see that you still had some of it inside to indulge in the salty taste. "hm, who's the pervert now?" he says before wiping it off on your cheek and lifted his balaclava just above his nose to give you a kiss. Dragging the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip to gain entrance, to which you eagerly complied. Gaze hazed as he hums into the kiss, pushing you further against the wall as one of his hands found their way beneath the fabric of your shirt, his rough, calloused fingers drags their way along your toned— muscular physique as they found their way to the dip of your hip, keeping a grip there as his other hand made it's way to grip the side of your chest— slightly squeezing onto the soft, firm flesh before pulling away from the kiss. Staring down at you through half lidded eyes through his dark shades. "fuck you." You grumbled back to him as you gripped onto his waist, pulling him further more against your body as you kissed him again. This time a bit more gentle than before. Tongues intertwined with one another as both of his hands slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt and slide your shirt up until it reached above your chest, exposing your tone torso to him as his thumbs were on your pecs— flicking over your nipples as his other hand went to grab the side of your waist, his whole arm around it as he deepens the kiss further. Grinding against you with no shame while your hands held him by his back. "now, be a good boy and turn around for me yeah sweetheart?" he whispered ever so sweetly into your ear as he pulled away from the kiss. God damn it. ⋆⭒˚.⋆ slow lewd claps of skin slapping against skin fills your office as he had your legs parted, pants long pooling at your ankles as his grith slowly pushes in and out of your tight heat with ease. Soft, hushed grunt and whimpers escapes your lips as he pries your thighs further apart while he had you pushed against the wall. One hand on the front of your thigh that meets the groin and the muscle as his other hand cupped one of your pecs— squeezing it every so often to have you hushed. "you're doin' so good baby.. all for me hm?" he muses against your neck, his warm breath fanning over it with every grunt and sigh escapes his lips while he fucked you ever so gently. Feeling his member stretch you out as the tip grazes your sweet spot with each thrust, your own cock standing hard and erect helplessly as the leaking tip stains the wallpaper walls of your own office. "god damn you're so tight.. squeezing around my cock like there's no tomorrow huh? don't be greedy now, we have all night.." (i reached the words limit)

#x male reader #male reader #moots #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw x reader #sub reader #smut #Barrage #Barrage cod #Barrage x male reader #Barrage x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #gay

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certaimromance · 21 hours ago

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𝜗𝜚 The Ghost Next Door.

Spencer Reid x Neighbor!reader

series masterlist

Summary: You were trying to move on with your life and clear your head about Spencer from a safe distance, but the whole plan goes out the window when you hear his screams.

Words: 5,8k (I went crazy).

Warnings & Tags: this is part of a series, check the masterlist to make sure you are in the correct chapter. mention of jail, gun, violence, alcohol. the reader is wearing a dress, and is slightly injured (nothing serious, just a bruise). nightmares. hurt/comfort. so bittersweet. painter!reader. post prison reid. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I'm finally back! This chapter cost me quite a bit due to lack of time (I'm now officially a university student) and my obsession with making it raw, emotional, and coherent with everything that has happened to Spencer. Really, one of my biggest fears is falling into caricature and making it all seem very out of character, so again, I hope this makes sense to you.

You weren’t the type to go out partying. Nights spent under the haze of neon lights and thumping bass didn’t appeal to you—especially in a city like this one, where shadows stretched long and secrets whispered from every corner. You had your reasons, too. Spending time with an FBI agent who was far too eager to spill the sordid details of his cases left you carrying a permanent thread of suspicion, the kind that made you eye even the janitor’s mop bucket a little too long. But, despite all that, you knew there were moments when you had to relent. When your best friend practically dragged you from your own isolation, insisting on a night out, you could dust off an old dress, slip into heels that pinched just enough to remind you you were still human, and survive the night.

Tonight had been one of those moments.

As you stepped into your apartment, you closed the door carefully behind you, mindful not to wake your cat. The faint jingle of your keys hitting the small table near the door sounded unusually loud in the early morning stillness. The clock on the wall read half past three, and a wave of exhaustion began to creep in, though your mind was too restless to fully embrace it. You glanced toward the worn armchair in the corner, where your cat lay curled in a contented ball. She stirred briefly, opened one green eye, and then decided you weren’t worth the effort of waking up in that moment.

You let out a soft breath and looked around the room. Memories of the night played back in your head as you took off your shoes and went to the kitchen for a glass of water to make you feel a little alive again.

It had all started as an attempt by your friend to pull you out of the orbit of your own misery. “You need this,” she’d said earlier that evening, tugging you out of your chair and into the kind of outfit that made you glance at yourself twice in the mirror, unsure if you still recognized the person staring back.

“Just this time,” you’d agreed.

But, surprisingly, all the dancing and drinking in the bar had been weak against the power of your emotions. Maybe that was because you barely paid attention to the songs they played or the fact that you hadn't even touched the drinks the bartender served you. You had spent most of the night with your chin in your palm, staring into your glass and telling your friend how much you missed Spencer, how the silence in the hallway felt heavier now. And she listened to you patiently, even as the music boomed around you, offering soft, soothing words that you only half heard.

Now, in the stillness of your home, it felt a little foolish and even pathetic. You leaned against the counter, the cold granite grounding you. The sudden and soft shuffle of Mittens broke the silence, and you glanced down to see your cat staring up at you, her green eyes luminous in the dim light. She yawned, then rubbed against your leg, as if to remind you that you weren’t entirely alone. A pretty nice gesture.

You leaned down to scratch her behind the ears, and your thoughts went back to your neighbor. You thought about how he used to smile at you, just barely. You thought about the low timbre of his voice when he greeted you in the hallway, as if he wasn't used to never being heard. He always seemed to carry the weight of something unsaid, something you were afraid to ask. Maybe that's why you were so fascinated by him since the first day. Or maybe it's just because he never looked at you like you were trying too hard, not even on the rare nights you went out in a dress and heels.

As you straightened and turned toward the living room, your eyes caught the faint outline of his window through your own. The blinds were down, but the light was on. It was late, much later than usual for him. It tugged at something inside you, a curiosity laced with longing.

Your cat leapt onto the couch, curling into a soft ball of fur, and you sat beside her. Pulling a blanket over your legs, you let your gaze linger on his window. Was he pacing again, restless like you? He was thinking about what happened between you two yesterday? Could he be regretting everything?

You certainly didn’t know what possessed you, but your phone was in your hand before you could stop yourself and think more than a second about it.

Maybe it was the drinks. Maybe it was the late hour. Maybe it was just the weight of wanting someone you couldn’t seem to reach, no matter how close you were. Maybe it was because he was supposed to be your nice and honest Spencer after all. But whatever it was, the message was already halfway typed before you could stop it.

“Are you awake?”

You stared at the screen for a moment, the question hanging there like a fragile thread, one tug away from unraveling everything. You could feel your pulse in your fingertips, the weight of the message sinking into your chest. With a shaky exhale, you pressed send and regretted it instantly.

But he didn’t respond. Not instantly.

You leaned back against the couch, letting your head tip against the cushion. The blanket pooled around your waist, your cat purring softly beside you, oblivious to your unease. You told yourself to stop looking, to let it go. Maybe he wasn’t near his phone. Maybe he’d seen it and didn’t know what to say. Or maybe—your stomach tightened—maybe he didn’t want to talk to you at all.

But the light in his room was still on. It has to mean something. Please let it mean something.

It felt completely ridiculous to fixate on that tiny detail, but you couldn’t help it. You kept wondering what he was doing in there. Was he working on something, hunched over a desk with his brows furrowed in concentration? Was he pacing the room, thinking of everything, just like you? Or was he simply lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, as lost in his thoughts as you were now?

The longer you stared, the more you started to imagine him there and wishing to be there like you used to do, running your fingers through his hair and just enjoying the silence. Now, you could almost see him, the faint silhouette of his figure moving behind the blinds, like a ghost that refused to stay hidden.

Your phone suddenly buzzed in your hand, and your breath caught, but it wasn’t him. Just a notification from some app you’d forgotten to turn off, and in that moment you hate it completely. You let out a shaky laugh, half at your own foolishness and half to fill the silence.

Outside, the city was starting to move and advance again. A car passed by, and its headlights cut through the darkness. In the distance, a siren wailed, high and short. It was a reminder of how small you were in the big picture, of how trivial your problems might seem compared to everyone else's. But still, your eyes drifted back to his window, making that the biggest problem in the world.

The light hadn’t flickered again, but it was steady, constant. You told yourself to stop watching, to turn off your own light, and just continue your way to your bed. But something rooted you there, some stubborn hope that he’d notice you watching, or that he’d respond to your message, even with something small.

But yet, nothing came, and all your hope started to disappear slowly.

Maybe it was time to let him go, to stop acting like a lovesick puppy following in his footsteps, and most of all, to stop trying to give him a coherent reason for being distant. Maybe you weren't welcome in his life anymore. Maybe the gun incident was just what he would do for any neighbor he thought was in danger. Maybe you weren't as important as you thought you were.

After a moment, you decided it was best to go to bed, so you pulled the blanket up to your chin, the weight of the day slowly slipping away. But then it began. At first it was so faint you might have thought it was part of your imagination, just a murmur, a low sound carried by the stillness of the night. But it didn't fade. It grew louder, sharp, jagged, and unmistakable. A choked scream broke the silence of your apartment, raw and desperate, like someone drowning in their own breath.

Your heart jolted in your chest. The sound was different this time—familiar, but more frantic. It was a chorus of broken sobs and harsh, muffled shouts, followed by a sound you couldn’t quite place but which churned something so dark in your stomach.

And then, the scream.

It wasn’t just a noise. It was a cry born of suffering, guttural and aching, twisting in ways that made your blood run cold. Your eyes snapped open, wide and alert, and your body froze in place. The world around you seemed to fade, the hum of the city outside distant, irrelevant. There was only that sound. That scream.

It came again. Another strangled, desperate cry echoed through the walls. And this time, you knew.

Spencer.

Without thinking, you grabbed your keys from the bedside table and moved quickly toward the door. You weren’t sure why you were doing it, why you were stepping into the unknown at this hour, but it felt like the only thing to do to make sure he was okay. You’d heard him through the tiny walls before—quiet murmurs, little things, but nothing like this. This felt like he was caught in something bigger, something that worried you immensely.

The hallway was dark, empty, and your footsteps echoed too loudly in the silence to wake up all the neighbors. Every sound felt amplified, like the whole apartment was holding its breath with you. You didn’t knock. You didn’t stop to think. You just shoved the key into the lock, the cold metal pressing into your palm as you twisted it, your breath caught in your throat.

You stepped inside.

The apartment was bathed in the pale glow of the streetlight filtering through the blinds, casting long, distorted shadows across the floor. Everything felt unnervingly still, too still, the silence almost suffocating in its weight, amplifying every sound that dared break it. His door was slightly ajar, the sliver of light spilling out like a silent invitation, beckoning you in. Drawn by the echoes of his suffering, you moved toward his bedroom, your body moving almost on instinct. The door opened just wide enough to allow you a glimpse.

What you saw made your heart stutter in your chest.

Spencer was tangled in his sheets, his body thrashing violently beneath them, his movements frantic and desperate as if he were trying to escape some invisible force. His face was contorted in agony, his brow furrowed so tightly it seemed the pain had etched itself into his very skin. His chest rose and fell in shallow, jagged breaths, the effort so intense it seemed to burn through him, his body quivering with every painful inhalation. He was caught in the grip of some terrible nightmare, one so vicious it stole his ability to breathe, to think, to fight.

You could see the whiteness of his knuckles, his fingers clenched tightly around the edge of the bed, the skin stretched taut and trembling with the strain. His whole body was rigid, muscles locked in a battle against the unseen terrors his mind had conjured. Tears streaked down his face, mingling with the sweat that had gathered along his brow, the rawness of his cries reverberating in the stillness, thickening the air around you.

“Spencer?” You whispered, barely recognizing your own voice as it trembled in the room. You reached toward him, your heart pounding in your chest, but he didn’t respond. He was lost—completely lost—in whatever dark place his mind had pulled him into, and you didn’t know what to do. “Spencer, wake up,” you tried again, your voice desperate, thick with the urgency of the situation.

His eyes were squeezed shut, the lines of his face tight with tension, his lips trembling with the words that came next, words broken and heavy with pain.

“Please…don’t do it…” he gasped, his voice breaking on the words, filled with so much pain that it made your chest tighten. His hands reached out, grasping at the empty air in frantic, helpless motions. Like he was trying to hold onto something—anything—that could pull him out of the darkness.

You felt the heaviness of his plea in your bones. The torment in his voice was unbearable.

“No, no, no…” he whispered, the words barely audible, but they hit you with the weight of something deep, something far beyond just a nightmare. He was begging, pleading for something that you couldn’t see, couldn’t understand. His body jerked, still trying to pull away from something that wasn’t really there. “Leave me, please, leave me.”

“Spencer!” You called again, louder this time, your hand on his shoulder, your voice trembling with urgency. You shook him, trying to pull him back from wherever his mind had taken him.

In the heat of your panic, you thought it was the right thing to do, thought you could snap him out of it. You thought you could reach him.

But then, in an instant, everything went wrong.

The second your hand touched his shoulder, his body jerked violently, more forceful than before, and without warning, his fist shot out. It connected with your left cheek with such brutal force that your head snapped back, the sting of the blow exploding across your face. For a moment, everything went dark, the pain so sudden and sharp that it left you breathless and disoriented, your body instinctively reeling from the shock. A whimper escaped your throat involuntarily, as the world around you tilted, your vision blurring as you pressed your hand to your cheek, the sting still radiating across your skin.

But he didn’t seem to notice. He continued to thrash beneath the sheets, his body trembling violently, his cries still trapped in that nightmare. You gasped for air, trying to steady yourself, trying to make sense of what had just happened. You’d been trying to help, trying to pull him from his terror—and instead, you’d been struck.

For a heartbeat, there was only the harsh rhythm of your breathing. And then, Spencer’s eyes snapped open, wide and wild, and it was as if the world around him collapsed into focus. His breath hitched in his throat, still shallow, but the frantic terror began to give way to confusion. His eyes flickered across the room, distant and unfocused, and then they landed on you.

In that instant, everything seemed to slow. He blinked, his eyes glazing over in disbelief as they locked on your face, lingering for a moment on the red mark blooming on your cheek. His lips parted, his voice catching in his throat, his expression morphing from confusion to something far worse—horror.

“Oh my God…” He whispered, his voice trembling with fear and guilt, his whole body shaking. “Oh my God—did I—?”

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t find the words to reassure him, not in that moment.

He pushed himself up from the bed, his body unsteady, shaky with the tremors of both fear and guilt. His eyes never left your face, locked onto the evidence of his panic etched across your skin. “No. No, no, no,” he stammered, his words coming faster, more frantic, as if trying to deny the reality of what had just happened. “I hit you—I—”

“Spencer,” you started, but your voice was soft, almost hesitant, the lingering sting in your cheek making it hard to speak.

He didn’t hear you. He was already out of bed, nearly tripping over himself as he scrambled toward you. His hands hovered in the air, trembling with the weight of his guilt. “I didn’t mean to! I swear! I—I didn’t know—” His voice cracked, and his hands hovered near your face, but he didn’t touch you, not yet, too afraid that his very presence would cause you more harm. His eyes were glassy, filled with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry. God, I’m so sorry.”

“Spencer, stop,” you said, your voice firmer now, despite the ache in your chest. “It’s okay. It was an accident.”

But he wasn’t listening. He backed away from you, running a shaky hand through his hair, pacing in agitation, his whole body wracked with guilt. “No, it’s not okay. I—” His voice broke, the words dying in his throat.

You stepped closer to him, ignoring the throbbing in your cheek, reaching out to take his hand, hoping that this simple touch might anchor him in the midst of his storm. At first, he flinched, his body reacting to the contact as though it burned, but then he froze, and his gaze locked with yours.

“Listen to me, please,” you said softly, gently forcing him to meet your eyes, to hold your gaze. His bloodshot eyes were filled with shame, his face a mask of regret. “Look at me. I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.”

His brow furrowed, his gaze flicking to your cheek once more, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re not okay. I can see it—I did that.” His hands trembled as he pointed to the mark on your skin. “I shouldn’t have—”

“You were having a nightmare,” you interrupted gently, your voice tender, yet firm. “You didn’t know what you were doing. It wasn’t your fault…I shouldn’t have touched you like that when you were in that state.”

“No, it’s all in me…I’m the one who did this.” He choked on his own words, his chest rising and falling with the effort of holding back the sobs that threatened to break free. “I’m the reason you’re hurting.”

You felt the weight of his guilt like a crushing force. It felt suffocating, like the walls around him were closing in, and you couldn’t stand seeing him like this—lost in his own self-loathing. You wanted to reach him, to show him that it wasn’t his fault, that his nightmare had taken hold of him, not his own hands.

But it wasn’t just the nightmare that had gripped him; it was the way he saw himself now. A man who hurt others without meaning to, a man who couldn’t escape the damage he had caused. You had been there before, watching him battle his inner demons, and you knew how much this guilt could eat away at him if left unchecked.

You watched him struggle, his hands curling into fists at his sides, his head bowed like he couldn’t bear to look at you any longer. The weight of his guilt was tangible, suffocating, and you had to do something—anything—to stop it from consuming him.

“If it were me,” you murmured, searching his face, “if I had been the one thrashing, if I had been the one to hit you, would you be standing here telling me I was a terrible person?”

Spencer blinked. His lips parted, his breath shaky, and you could see the internal war waging behind his eyes.

“I—” He swallowed hard, his fingers twitching in yours. “That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Because I know what’s inside my head. I know what I’ve seen, and I—” He cut himself off, inhaling sharply, his entire body shuddering. “I don’t trust myself not to hurt people.”

That was the most honest thing he'd said to you in three months, and he instantly regretted it. The look in your eyes says too much, and almost all was pity.

“That’s not fair,” you told him, voice steady. “And you know it.”

He didn’t respond. He can’t because you were right.

Instead, he turned abruptly, running a shaking hand through his hair, muttering, “Wait here. Just—just stay.”

Before you could respond, he was gone, disappearing into the kitchen. You heard the faint sound of running water, the clink of something being opened, and then the hurried shuffle of his footsteps as he returned, a small hand towel in one hand and a plastic bag filled with ice in the other.

Without a word, Spencer knelt in front of you, his movements careful, deliberate, as if afraid you might flinch. He gently wrapped the ice in the towel, his hands trembling slightly, and looked up at you, his expression unreadable.

“Let me,” he murmured, his voice soft but heavy with emotion.

You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. Slowly, he raised the makeshift ice pack to your cheek, his movements tender, almost hesitant, as though he feared he might hurt you again. The coolness of the ice was a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand, which hovered just beneath your jaw, steadying you.

“Does it hurt?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

“No,” you whispered. “Not anymore.”

He exhaled shakily, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction, but his gaze remained fixed on your face. His thumb brushed against your skin absentmindedly, just below where the ice rested, and the gentleness of the touch sent a shiver down your spine.

“God,” he said, his voice breaking, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s really not that bad.” You spoke softly, trying to cut through his panic. “If I’m being honest, Mittens has scratched me more times than I can count.” You lifted your arm, showing the faint, nearly invisible white lines crisscrossing your skin. “She’s a little terror sometimes, but I love her anyway.”

His eyes flickered to the marks, but the tension in his expression didn’t ease. His brows furrowed, the crease between them deepening with uncertainty. “But that’s different,” he murmured, his voice hesitant, like he was afraid to argue but couldn’t stop himself. “A cat scratching you isn’t the same as—” He swallowed hard. “As hitting you.”

You smiled faintly, the kind of smile that carried more weight than it should—small, knowing, resigned. “It is the same,” you said, so quiet it was almost a whisper. “Because I love her no matter what she does by accident. And I…”

The words got stuck in your throat. I love you.

But you couldn’t say them. Not now. Not when he was looking at you like he was the monster under your bed, the thing you should fear, when all you could see was the boy who had once held your hand in the dark just to make sure you weren’t afraid.

You just watched him.

Watched the way his jaw was clenched so tightly it could shatter. Watched the way his hands still trembled, despite his best efforts. Watched the way his brows furrowed in that deep, pained way that made your chest ache.

And then, in the silence, you spoke.

“You do realize that when we used to sleep together, I kicked you, like…constantly, right?”

That startled him. His eyes widened, his brows pulling together in confusion. “What?”

A small, tired smile ghosted across your lips. “You don’t complain much, but I know I do. I kick in my sleep. I shift around. I always end up tangled in the blankets, stealing all the covers.” You let out a soft, almost self-conscious chuckle. “There was one night you woke up because I kneed you in the ribs. Hard.”

A flicker of recognition crossed his face, and you saw it—the moment he obviously remembered.

His lips parted, his breath hitching slightly. “You—yeah.” His voice was barely audible, but it had lost some of its sharp edges. “You kicked me so hard I nearly fell off the bed.”

You nodded. “And did you get mad at me?”

His brows furrowed. “Of course not. You were asleep.”

“Exactly.” You tilted your head, ignoring the way the ice sent another sharp pulse of cold through your skin. “I never meant to hurt you, but I still did. Just like you never meant to hurt me.”

He inhaled sharply, his eyes flicking between yours, something raw and hesitant creeping into his expression.

“It’s different,” he said, but the conviction in his voice was weaker now.

“Is it?” you challenged softly. “I know you, Spencer. I know who you are.”

Oh no, you didn’t know him. Not really. Not anymore.

His breath shuddered, and for a long moment, he didn’t say anything. Just stared at you, his eyes searching your face like he was looking for something—proof, maybe, or forgiveness. Maybe both.

Slowly, carefully, you reached for him again, this time taking his hand in both of yours. He let you. He didn’t pull away.

“You’re not a violent person,” you whispered. “You are not the things that have happened to you years ago. You are not the things you’ve had to do to see in your work. You are not the nightmares that try to tell you otherwise.”

His fingers twitched beneath yours, his grip tightening almost imperceptibly.

For the first time since he had woken up, his shoulders sagged—just slightly, but enough for you to see the weight of his guilt beginning to lift, piece by piece. Even though he knew that if you knew what had happened in the last three months, those words would not have come out of your mouth.

“I would never hurt you,” he whispered, like a prayer.

“I know,” you whispered back. “That’s why I’m still here.”

Tears welled in his eyes, spilling over before he could stop them.

Without thinking, your fingers lifted, brushing against the sharp line of his jaw. The warmth of his skin seeped into your fingertips, grounding you both. You had done this before—when the weight of the world had pressed too heavily on his shoulders, when the ghosts in his mind grew too loud to ignore. You had kissed his tears away in the past, stolen moments of comfort from the chaos.

And so, you did it again.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips gently against the corner of his eye, where a fresh tear lingered. The warmth of his skin felt almost feverish beneath your touch, as though his entire body was caught in the grip of a storm. Your lips brushed the salty trail of his tear, and another followed almost instantly. Without thinking, you kissed it too, your lips lingering a moment longer, offering a tenderness that neither of you had allowed yourselves in so long. The sweetness of the moment almost made you forget the ache in your chest and the bruise on your cheek.

He shuddered beneath your touch, a sharp breath catching in his throat. You felt the tension ripple through him, the way he stiffened for just a second—caught between wanting to pull away and wanting to collapse into you.

And then, as if it were inevitable, your lips brushed against his, just a breath away. You could feel the heat of his skin, the pulse of his heartbeat under your fingers. You were so close, closer than you’d been in so long, closer than you’d dared to let yourself believe was possible.

Your heart pounded. His did too.

His lashes fluttered, his gaze locked onto yours, searching, hesitant.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered. The words were barely audible, spoken like they might break if said any louder. “Tell me to get away from you.”

You shook your head. “Don’t.”

And for a fleeting second, he was just a boy, and you were just the girl next door. No past, no pain, no history—just this.

Or maybe not.

The reality crashed back in, and all the things you didn’t know came back to his mind.

The ice pack in his hand had started to burn from how tightly he was gripping it, and the cold sting jolted him back to the truth he was trying so hard to ignore. His gaze darted to the bruise on your cheek, and in an instant, everything shifted.

He wasn’t just a boy.

He was an ex-convict. Someone dangerous. Someone broken. A liar.

And the only thing he could give the girl next door was more pain.

Spencer flinched as though struck, his entire body going rigid as he ripped himself away from you. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, his chest rising and falling too fast, as if he were surfacing from deep water. The ice pack slipped slightly in his grip, like it had suddenly become too heavy to hold.

“I can’t,” he whispered, his voice trembling, the words choked with anguish. His eyes darted to the mark on your cheek, his expression twisted with guilt. “I can’t do this. I shouldn’t have even—God, what am I doing?”

“Wait—” You reached for him again, but he was already retreating, shaking his head in frantic, jerky motions.

“No,” he muttered, his voice fraying at the edges. “No, I can’t—I shouldn’t even be near you.” His fingers tightened around the ice pack like it was a lifeline, like it could somehow build a wall between you. “You shouldn’t let me touch you. Not after what I just did. What I did yesterday. What I might do.”

“You were dreaming,” you tried again, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped, but there was no anger in it. Just raw, unfiltered pain. His whole body seemed to sag under the weight of it. He turned away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you any longer. “It doesn’t matter why it happened. What matters is that it did. I hurt you.”

He did it even when he was so afraid that someone else would do it.

“It was an accident.”

“But it was me.” His voice rose in despair, his hands clenching at his sides. “I did it. My hands. I can’t—” He gestured wildly at your cheek, his breath hitching. “I can’t undo that.”

You didn't say anything.

The room felt impossibly small, as if the walls were closing in with every passing second. The silence between you stretched taut, heavy with unspoken words and the weight of something neither of you had the strength to name. The air was thick with the faint scent of coffee—bitter, stale, clinging to the space around you. Your gaze drifted past him, landing on the nightstand beside his bed.

Coffee cups. So many of them.

You didn’t count them, but the number didn’t matter. It was the stains at the bottom that told the real story—the dark rings of dried coffee, layer upon layer, marking the passage of sleepless nights. Some of the cups were only half-empty, abandoned mid-drink, as if exhaustion had finally won for a brief moment before panic dragged him back into consciousness. Others were drained completely, the last dregs of caffeine clinging stubbornly, as if trying to hold on to something already lost.

It wasn’t just coffee, though.

Books stacked haphazardly, some opened and left facedown, pages creased from where his shaking hands had clutched them too tightly. Papers covered in his cramped, hurried handwriting, words scrawled over and over as though writing them down might keep the memories from slipping through the cracks. A pen, its tip snapped, the ink dried into a small, angry blotch on a forgotten page.

And then, at the edge of it all, the only thing untouched—the single glass of water, still full, still waiting. Like it had been set aside with the intention of being drunk but never was. Because he hadn’t stopped long enough to remember he needed it, even with his wonderful memory.

He had been trying not to sleep.

The realization struck like a blade slipping between your ribs, slow and deliberate, the pain blooming in your chest before you had time to brace for it. You inhaled sharply, the sound barely audible over the steady hum of your own heartbeat. When you looked back at him, you saw it—the exhaustion carved into his features like cracks in porcelain, the dark circles beneath his eyes deep enough to tell their own stories. His hands were trembling, his fingers curled into fists at his sides as if he were trying to hold himself together, piece by piece, before he shattered completely.

This wasn’t just sleeplessness. This was obsession. This was someone running from something, from himself.

And you hadn’t even noticed until now.

“Spencer…” You hesitated, searching for the right words, but everything felt too small, too inadequate for the storm raging inside him. “What’s going on with you?”

He flinched, like you’d struck him, but didn’t answer. His fingers curled around the ice pack again, knuckles white with tension. His jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it hurt.

You stepped closer, your heart hammering in your chest, but you didn’t move to touch him. Not yet. Not until he let you in. “This isn’t just about tonight, is it?”

Still, nothing. No answer, no hint of recognition. His eyes remained fixed somewhere just beyond you, a million miles away, a stranger in his own skin.

You tried again, your voice softer this time, as though the gentleness might coax him out of his silence. “When was the last time you actually slept?”

That got a reaction. His gaze flickered to you, but only for a second, before he tore it away, staring somewhere over your shoulder like he could pretend he wasn’t here at all. His silence spoke volumes.

Your chest ached. “Spence.”

“I can handle it,” he murmured, but there was no conviction in his voice.

“You’re not handling it,” you countered softly. “You’re barely holding yourself together.”

His lips twisted into something bitter, the words tasting like acid as they spilled out. “That’s nothing new.”

The bitterness in his tone made your stomach twist. You took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “Talk to me,” you pleaded, voice gentle but firm. “Please. Whatever it is—whatever’s been keeping you up at night, whatever’s making you pull away—I want to know.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You don’t.”

“I do.”

“No, you really don’t.” His voice cracked, and when he finally looked at you, his eyes were haunted. “Because if you knew—if you really knew—you wouldn’t be standing here.”

Your heart stopped.

“What does that mean?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

He didn't answer, he just kept looking at you like you were made of glass, as if one wrong word would break you entirely. But that wasn’t it, was it? No—there was something deeper, something raw and frayed at the edges, something desperate.

He wasn’t looking at you like you might break.

He was looking at you like he might.

Then you understand something: Spencer Reid wasn’t someone to be afraid of, because he was afraid.

Just like you had been since he left you in his bed three months ago, with a promise that felt more like a lie with every passing day.

Tag list ❤︎ ︎: I finally made this! So send me an ask or comment here if you would like to be added or removed!

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #matthew gray gubler

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jigglethemballs · 18 hours ago

Text

Edging König for a week

You randomly mentioned it to konig one evening.

“So you think you could last being edged for a week?”

“Pff, of course! Do you know all the things i’ve seen and been through? Edging wouldn’t even be a challenge for me”

warning: edging, sub konig, soft dom reader, chubby/fat reader, denial, public masturbation, dramatic description of everything, unprotected penetration, unchecked for spelling mistakes don’t come for me

Day 1

You were seated on his lap on the couch. The tv being long forgotten, it’s only purpose now playing some faint background noise.

You’re now making out with konig and already feeling a bit fuzzy.

Your tongues are softly rubbing against each other, yours and his saliva becoming one as you both breathe heavy.

“My love aren’t i meant to be edged?” He asks when you break the kiss and target his sensitive neck.

“You are yes and this is part of it”

You suck on a specific area on his neck making his hips jolt up, applying pressure on both your covered private parts.

“König! Stay still” You scold him not expecting your needy pussy to be stimulated so suddenly.

“Can’t help it love” He smirks.

You quickly decide to get rid of his annoying smirk by humping down on him. Your pussy perfectly aligned on his stiffness.

“Fuck” He hisses, smirk now completely gone.

And that’s all you need to continue. You pick up the pace, making you both groan in pleasure. The pressure on your clit making your eyes roll.

König head is rolled back enjoying the feeling of you humping on him.

“Just like that, doing so well” He mumbles softly.

You’re both panting and konig starts to get louder. His groans turn into soft whimpers and his eyes are glued to your clothed parts rubbing on each other.

“Love i don’t think i’ll last” He whimpers ready to cum in his pants for you but before he realizes, the oh so delicious building pressure is gone.

He quickly looks up at you, confused and dazed.

“Good luck lasting the entire week” And you get off of him.

He looks at you wide eyed, desperate for more. The wet patch on his sweatpants of where his tip is indicating his precum leaked everywhere.

Day 2

He couldn’t sleep. Not with you laying besides him. He wonders how he’s supposed to last the entire week like that. Maybe he underestimated it all but it’s only the second day no way he can give up now or even admit it.

Youre getting ready for a night out with your girlfriends to celebrate one of their birthdays. König is laying on the bed while you try on some clothes to show him. You come out of the walk in closet with a dress showing all your pretty curves he loves so much.

“Does it look good?” You ask while looking at yourself in the mirror

He walks up to you and stands behind you grabbing your body from behind.

“You look delicious my love” He spins you around and tries to kiss you before you stop him.

“My makeup! You’ll ruin it” You protest and get out of his grasp.

You eventually go out and come back home around 1am. Your feet and head are throbbing and the only thing you want is to get in bed and sleep.

You enter your shared room and your precious man is stroking himself.

“Can you give me hand please” He says not even surprised you caught him.

“I’m sure you can take care of it yourself” You reply back and lean against the doorframe

His hands falters a bit but he just keeps going. He rubs his oozing tip and maintains eye contact with you.

“Don’t you want to help your desperate man?” He asks between groans

“You’re a big boy aren’t you?” You say back earning a whimper from him.

He starts stroking himself at a faster pace. His eyes never looking away from you. To tease him you slowly strip out of your dress. That has an effect on him as he whimpers louder.

“Love, touch me please” He pleads, honestly he looks great like this, a bit of sweat coating his forehead, his hand going up and down his precum coated dick.

You don’t reply but get on the bed. Laying your head on his thigh close to his stroking hand.

“Ah, ah i’m close” He says, eyes closing on their own

“Don’t you dare” you say firmly and he halts his movements

Panting he plops down on the bed and you caress his thigh.

Day 3

He’s already at his limit. How is it possible that his dick and balls have been throbbing nonstop since yesterday?

He wakes up hard, walks around hard. All he can think about is cumming. His mind flooded with the thought of being inside you and spilling his warm seeds.

You’re currently making dinner, you’ve seen a recipe you wanted to try and have been cooking away for an hour now.

König is desperate but he can’t admit defeat yet. His ego far too big. He walks up to you in the kitchen and immediately he’s twitching. The sight of you so domestic. Wearing a cute apron around your soft body clinging to your stomach.

He walks up behind you pressing himself to your behind.

You feel his hand on against you and decide to let him be. Noticing you don’t react to his presence he starts humping your ass.

It turns you on how desperate he seems to be. One arm around you he holds your shoulders and pants in your ear.

“Let me fuck you please, i need to feel her around me”

You just lift up your skirt exposing your soaked and naked pussy. He looks down at your naked body and removes his pants at the speed of light. Before he can do anything you stop him.

“You only get to fuck my thighs, understood?”

He groans dissatisfied but still listens. He guides his tip between your soft thighs pressed against each other, softly wetted by your slick running down

“Fucking hell” He moans and fucks your thighs at a quick pace.

“Baby let me fuck you properly, you’re being edged too here aren’t you? Let me pleasure her she’s so wet” He moans out in your ear.

As tempting as it all sounds you don’t give in.

His movements start to get more aggressive but also sloppy. His voice a pitch higher and you know that means he’s close.

“König don’t cum!” You warm him reminding him he has to stay on edge. Not long after he slips himself out of your pudgy thighs letting out a disappointed groan.

Day 4

He wakes up in the middle of the night sweaty and hard. All he can think about is your warmth enveloping his dick.

You’re sound asleep next to him and it takes everything inside of him not to wake you up. He grabs his dick and starts pumping it while looking at you.

A few pumps won’t matter right?

He’s staring at your pretty lips he’s used to have around him, your body he hasn’t properly grabbed in god knows how long, your beautiful tits he can stay between for days.

He gets closer to you and starts sniffing you. He doesn’t know why or what he’s trying to smell but he just wants more of you.

His lust filled mind can’t think straight now. He’s trying his best to stay quiet but his mouth isn’t obeying his orders.

Quickly he’s close to the edge. He doesn’t want to disappoint you but he’s also so desperate for that sweet release.

But as the good desperate boyfriend he is he slowly comes to a halt and stays up all night, dick reaching for the ceiling.

Day 5

Today you were both away busy taking care of your personal schedules.

His body is on autopilot, no external information is processed by his brain. Once again all he can think about is your hands and body all over him. He wants to taste you, touch you, fuck you. He’s losing his mind for real.

His phone buzzes while he’s having a conversation with someone about whatever, he doesn’t even know himself. And he nearly cums in his pants looking at the content of your message.

It’s a picture of your pussy, well not really. You’re wearing panties but the evident wet spot on them nearly makes him pass out.

You add a text.

“Go to a bathroom, fuck yourself for five minutes to this”

And he obeys right away. Rudely excuses himself from the conversation and almost trips into the empty bathroom.

His pants are down in a heartbeat and he’s stroking himself. The pretty outline of your pussy in the image making it hard for him to not spill right away. He looks at the time, only one minute went by and he’s already so close.

He slows down his movements. He can practically taste and smell you through the screen. He remembers all the times he’s been between those juicy legs lapping at your folds. He’s hungy, he’s thirsty, he needs you NOW.

And once again before he cums he stops and exactly 5 minutes have passed.

Day 6

Only one more day, only one more day, only one more day, only one more day.

His body is reacting to everything you do. If you’re just talking, hes foaming at the mouth looking at all the shapes your mouth makes. If youre walking around the place, hes admiring the movement of your hips and all the jiggle of your body.

He’s losing his fucking mind.

Today you want to get him to admit it’s difficult. So for that you bring out the big guns. Them being your mouth and hand.

You pushed him against the wall after what started as a few innocent kisses. His dick already forming a prominent dent in his pants.

“Please i need you so bad” He whimpers. You are so happy he’s so desperate and needy it’s such a good look on him you’re thinking about going for longer next time.

But right now you pull down his pants and grab him. He hisses between his teeth and his knees already want to give in.

You look up at him before giving a small lick at his tip.

“Fuck! I’m close” He moans grabbing your face.

You only smirk at him before fully taking in his dick. The warmth of your mouth nearly makes him die. He’s never had his senses enhanced so much. He’s floating on a cloud.

You slowly suck him off. His moans are stuck in his throat all he does is thrust forward into your throat.

His eyes are closed but you are sure they are rolled back as far as possible.

His dick and balls start to throb indicators of how close he is. And you let go with a pop.

He doesn’t even react. His body weak, his mind blank. All he does is stay put trying to control his breathing. And remembers he gets to cum tomorrow.

Day 7

Today is the day. He made it.

Currently you’re making out in your bed. He’s touching you, hungrily.

His body is so weak though, the entire week took a toll on him but still he wants this to be great because you basically edged yourself for as long as he did too.

“Let me taste you yeah?” He whimpers between kisses. And he leaves a trail of kisses down you body until your bare cunt.

She’s so pretty and delicious, he missed her so much.

He dives in not giving you any time to adjust to the pleasures. He sucks on your clit getting all sorts of moans and groans out of you.

He humps his dick into the bed, precum leaking so much it looks like he came already.

One finger of his rubs your entrance making you spread your legs even wider. He starts finger fucking you. His lips still sucking at your clit, you’re seeing stars.

“König fuck!” You moan his name and hump his face.

Suddenly you pull him up.

“Put it in, now” You order him and he gladly obeys.

“I won’t last” He enters your warm and wet folds.

His ears buzz, the world around him disappears. It’s just him and you. The pleasure he feels is otherworldly. And just like that, he cums.

He shoots ropes of cum inside of you, coating your delicate walls white. His body is shaking and his moans are loud.

He collapses on top of you.

You rub his back and give him many kisses all over his face.

He is spent.

“Never again” He says still inside of you.

“I was thinking about doing it for two weeks next time?” You say and he looks at you with horror.

#chubby reader #fat reader #konig smut #cod smut #plus size reader #black reader #sub konig #dom reader

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emsdevs · 1 day ago

Note

I’m a sucker for Angst, so a heaviest of heavy Angst will always do it for me, like I need my insides to feel like it’s being stabbed and overwhelmed with all sort of emotions. Bonus point if it’s long. Hope this isn’t too much to ask for maybe I’m getting too carried away loll Could you do it with Justin Herbert please?

No Strings?

a/n: nonnie you sent this at the perfect time! I've had justin on my schedule for a while, but couldn't figure out what to write for him, so this worked out perfectly! this does not have a happy ending but i might be open to a part two if enough people want it. enjoyyyy :)

masterlist | NFL Masterlists | Justin Herbert Masterlist

You swore you could handle casual. When you started whatever you had going on with Justin, you swore you were the kind of person who could have a casual relationship, but now you aren’t so sure. When Justin asked you out four months ago, you never would’ve expected to be where you are now. It had all been going so well. The dates had been everything you could’ve asked for and more, and Justin was the perfect gentleman. It all began to go downhill after your third date. You had invited Justin into your apartment when he dropped you off, your intentions clear, and he had followed you inside. You two had been sitting on the couch when things began to get serious, the kiss you were sharing heating up.

Justin pulled away, looking slightly guilty. “I feel like I need to be honest with you about something before this goes any further.”

“Um, yeah, okay,” you were a little confused, but you let him speak.

“Look, because of the job I have, I really can’t do anything serious right now. I know I’ve probably led you on a little bit, but I swear I’ve never had any intentions to hurt you,” he stared at you, looking nervous.

“That’s okay!” you speak up too quickly for your liking. “We don’t have to stop unless that’s what you want. I can do casual.” Surely, you could. It couldn’t be that different from a normal relationship.

“You sure? I don’t wanna overstep if casual isn’t something you’re comfortable with.”

“Yeah, of course. No strings attached. Just having fun.”

As Justin leaned back in, you were thinking that this could definitely work. Justin was great, and this would keep him in your life without overstepping any boundaries. You could do casual.

Turns out, you can’t do casual. You’ve been trying to stay normal, but you realized two days ago that you were falling for Justin, hard. You’d been keeping it to yourself, not wanting to scare him away, but it’s getting more and more difficult. He’s just so sweet, and the things he tends to do for you simply cannot be casual.

Is it casual when he plays with the ends of your hair before you get out of bed in the morning? Is it casual for him, even though he keeps all your favorite snacks at his place for when you have movie nights? If it’s casual, why does he keep a drawer free so you have space to keep a few clothes at his place? If it’s casual, why does he know you better than you know yourself? Why has he gotten you your favorite flowers every two weeks since you went on that first date with him? Why does he know “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” is the perfect movie to cheer you up after a long day? If it’s casual for him, why is he acting like he’s in love with you?

Eventually, it had gotten to a point where you couldn’t stand lying to him or yourself anymore. After four months of no strings, you had to talk to him. You finally got the chance one night when he invited you over for a movie night. Before the movie got started, you decided it was time to break the news.

“Justin… I actually think we need to talk,” you wiped your hands on your pants, feeling them already starting to sweat from the nerves.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“I just really need to say this, and I know you probably won’t like it, but I need you to listen until I finish,” you pause, waiting for him to nod. “Okay, so, I just feel like we’ve definitely crossed some lines in this arrangement, ya know? Like we both have a drawer at each other’s places. We’re spending the night together, and sometimes, we hang out without even having sex. I just… this isn’t what we originally agreed to,” you were avoiding saying what you were truly feeling.

“So we’ll step back some? I don’t know. That doesn’t seem like something to be worried abou-”

“I caught feelings for you, Justin,” he just stares at you, shocked, “I know we said no feelings, but we’ve just gotten a little too close. We don’t have to stop or anything. I’m a big girl. I can handle-”

“No. No, we should stop,” he cuts you off, and it’s your turn to stare.

“Seriously?”

“We said no strings. I told you I can’t do relationships because of my job. If you have feelings for me, this needs to stop now before it can get worse.”

“Right,” you stood robotically, grabbing your things and walking out of Justin’s house with tears in your eyes. The worst part? He didn’t even try to stop you. Somehow, with one sentence, you ruined something that could’ve been so good for you, that had been so good for you.

Now, it had been three months since that night, and you hadn’t spoken to Justin since. You’ve been going through the motions, just doing a fairly normal routine to make it through your day. You wake up, get dressed, go home, shower, cry while you eat your sorrows away, sleep, and then do it all again the next day. Nothing has felt right since your breakup with Justin, if that’s what you would even call. How can you break up with someone you were never really dating.

You’ve found your confidence to be much lower recently, too. You couldn’t count the amount of time you’ve wondered where you went wrong. Why did you have to tell him? Why would he not even try? Why didn’t he follow you? Today, you found the answer.

You had decided that a day out would do you some good, so since you had the day off, you got dressed and walked around the city. You were about to go into one of your favorite coffee shops, one that you had brought Justin to many times. As you neared the door, you caught a glimpse of something that shattered your heart in a second. There sat Justin across from some girl you’ve never seen, looking too close to just be friends. You watched as she stood, kissing his cheek before she wandered off to the bathroom. A bright smile made its way onto Justin’s face, a smile you had never managed to bring out of him. With your heart broken all over again, you made your way to a close friend’s place. It was closer than yours, and you knew you didn’t want to be alone right now.

He had told you he couldn’t be in a relationship, but what he really meant was that he couldn’t be in a relationship with you. The questions began to set in again. Were you not pretty enough? Not popular enough? Did he need someone in the same tax bracket as him? Did he really just not like you? Did he think you weren’t good enough for him? Was he lying the entire time, every time he told you how special you were to him

Even with all the questions you had, you knew two things for sure. You were done with Justin Herbert, and you definitely could not do casual.

taglist: @heartsforjh @irishmanwhore @heartforherbert @jusaints @one-sweet-gubler

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#em's inbox #em's nonnies #em's writing #justin herbert #justin herbert x reader #los angeles chargers #la chargers #nfl #nfl x reader

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kyeomkuppie · 2 days ago

Text

Me? Jealous? Pfft!

Pairing: Minghao x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, a tinge of angst

Synopsis: in which you were jealous but your boyfriend knew how to exactly comfort you.

Why has he standing with her for over 10 minutes?! It wasn't like it mattered to you. Pfft! of course not.

You've known your boyfriend to be very respectful, so it wasn't like you didn't trust him, I mean he clearly carried the Victoria's secret shopping bag that obviously belonged to you. It was as if 'I have a girlfriend' was written in his forehead. But it didn't help that some thoughts were starting to invade your mind.

She was refined. Her back straight, making you suddenly aware of your posture. Her voice quiet, making you too conscious about you naturally outgoing nature.

And most importantly, she embodied everything you wish you were. But this wasn't the time to go through internal monologue of how you think she's better than you! She has been talking to your boyfriend like she has known him for 30 years.

You were starting to go over 30 ways to commit murder without getting caught but your boyfriend finally made his way to you, after, in your opinion, a conversation that has been going on for too long.

"I'm sorry if I made you wait." He smiled guiltily.

"It's fine." Your sudden quietness caught him off-guard, and for someone as perceptive as Minghao, it wasn't hard to guess that something was off.

The store names in the mall were suddenly very interesting and it was painfully obvious that you were avoiding his gaze.

"Baobei, are you upset?" He knew you were weak for that nickname and it was apparent from the rosy tint of your cheeks, but you were giving one-word responses, which wasn't like you at all.

"No, Why would I be?" You manged to fake a smile which pretty much looked like a grimace.

You scoffed "Me?Jealous? Pfft!"

"Did anyone bother you while I was talking to [girl's name]?"

Oh, so he also knew her name?

Unfortunately for you, he noticed the furrow of your eyebrows when he said her name.

"Or is it me?...Are you jealous?"

He raised an eyebrow at how defensive you suddenly got. You two were back to his car and as soon as you closed the doors, you knew he had something to say.

"Baobei, talk to me. You know I don't like leaving things unresolved." His tone was serious but still gentle.

"No- No, It's not something to resolve. It's silly and I don't want to make a big deal out of nothing." You bit at your fingertip.

"It isn't nothing if it makes you upset, please tell me." He grabbed both your hands.

"She was just so...you. She is everything I want to be and that just made me a bit insecure and it really isn't your fault and the fact that I didn't know what had you so focused on what she said made me feel...I'm sorry I'm being childish." You look down at your hands.

He raised your chin with two fingers and slowly pulls you closer. "First of all, she is the choreographer of our new comeback. She wanted to ask about my input for the choreography. And what do you mean she's so me? You're a part of me that could well enough define who I am. No other person could ever replicate whatever you could do to make me feel how I do."

At this point these words were too much for you, and how he described you so romantically wasn't helping in how red your face was getting.

"Yes- I mean no and um you know-" You could no longer make sense of what you can say. You were too hyper-aware of the distance between you two.

He smiled knowing the buttons he pushed and decided to pull the final move.

He pulled you in and his lips landed on yours. You grabbed onto his shoulders and started kissing him like it was the last time. The slow yet desperate rhythm of both your lips was too much for you and when you suddenly pulled away a realization dawned upon you.

He could talk to a thousand girls and only you could get to devour his lips that way. You smiled to yourself at the thought but you instantly snapped out of it at your boyfriend's voice.

"Was it that good?"

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

#seventeen #svt #svt fluff #svt drabbles #seventeen fluff #seventeen drabbles #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #minghao #the8 #minghao x reader #myungho #xu minghao #minghao fluff #minghao angst #svt angst #seventeen angst #the8 fluff #seo myungho

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manlvrr · 3 days ago

Text

I hate the CaitVi Sex scene

Everytime I see someone thirsting after the scene and gushing about how it's so hot, I feel so disgusted and ticked cause of how the scene came about and where it's located.

Before we get onto my rant about the scene itself, I want to mention the CaitVi scene that happened before that.

"She saved your life!"

"If you will just calm down for on-"

If you will just calm down for once? Hypocrite. Caitlyn's allowed to be pissy, allowed to call Zaunites animals (oh, "except" Vi though) and then fight like an animal by biting Sevika—

Sidenote:

That's also another scene I don't find hot at all. Any time I see it, I can't focus on how attractive Sevika is when she's smug (even though she totes is). All I can focus on is how Caitlyn bit Sevika. I don't remember who pointed it out, if it was on Tumblr or TikTok which I have promptly deleted since the ban, but someone pointed out that Caitlyn is fighting dirty—like a Zaunite. Caitlyn was backed into a corner, so she fought like an animal.

Fuck her.

I guess now she can somewhat understand why Zaunites fight the way they do. When you're backed into a corner, feeling helpless, feeling desperate, you fight like it and she did the same exact same thing she judged them for.

Bastard.

Lol can you tell I'm feeling bitter over her character?

Back to OG rant

—biting Sevika, gas the undercity and harshly interrogate someone who was a victim of Jinx's shenanigans, hit Vi for trying to calm her down from her grief driven rage, but oh, no Vi must calm down even though she's barely angry compared to when Caitlyn's angry. Not to mention that Caitlyn throws a tantrum herself and throws the tiny figure in her hand to the ground.

"—since you don't trust her enough not to shove her in a box."

Can we please take note of the tremble in Vi's voice when she says that? 'Oh, Jinx brought back her trauma from being in Stillwater!1!2!1' First of all, shut up. Second of all, yeah. . . So did Caitlyn?? Caitlyn may not have known what to do with Jinx, but the option for her to let Jinx go to prison was there and Vi hated it.

"Cait, she's changed."

"We can't erase our mistakes. None of us."

All the while not doing any time of her own for the crimes she committed—and no, I'm not talking about her gassing the undercity. What she did as a dictator, letting Noxians take over, and hardly doing anything afterwards even though she caused so much pain and misery to both Piltovians and Zaunites goes unpunished. Her losing an eye is nothing compared to the fear many people will feel while living under a dictatorship.

Get the guillotine!!

"Who decides who gets a second chance?"

Exactly. Caitlyn did no better than Jinx. She knows it too. It tears her up inside—as it should!!! Besides, did she think Jinx wasn't going to eventually get out of Stillwater? Or was one of her options to let Jinx rot there until she died? Yeah, I'm sure your girlfriend would love that.

Now, let's get to the scene itself!

But first let me talk about what happened right before that—

Vi tries to get Jinx on her side, Jinx rejects her, and Vi watches her sister leave while being told by her that Vi "deserves to be happy" and not to "worry about her anymore".

Yikes.

People say that what happened next with Caitlyn was Vi "finally being selfish", but it just feels wrong to me. Don't get me wrong, Vi deserves to enjoy herself after everything that's been done to her; however, you aren't going to have normal, healthy, healing sex right after seeing a loved one leave you for good.

Trust me lol I've had enough grieving/traumatic experience to know that you can feel upset for hours and won't immediately be able to get into a happy mindset even if you find something to entertain yourself with. You can have people try to cheer you up and you feel a bit better, but you still feel that lingering horrible feeling inside that will eat at you for who knows how long. You could give me Steb wearing the cutest little red panties I have ever seen in my life and I'd still be sad while trying to eat him out. You need to give me that like a day or so AFTER my little breakdown cause I won't enjoy it right after crying about losing my sis.

Sidenote:

Someone please remind me to draw that.

It would take at least an hour for Vi to get back to normal with the way she was reacting. At least. Vi was in that cell for who knows how long, but she was still upset and rather vulnerable when Caitlyn found her. No doubt she needed more time to get herself together.

Okay, now, let's get to the scene itself!!!

Bro, don't fuck me while I'm crying unless I'm crying cause I'm laughing too hard or because of sexy overstimulation. Fuck me? Nah, fuck you.

"I choose wrong every time—and because of it. . . I've lost everyone."

"Did you really think I needed all the guards at the HexGates?"

SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT AWWWWWUUUPPPPPPP—anyway,

Your girl is clearly upset, grieving her lost relationship with her sister (and likely other loved ones shes lost like Vander/Warwick), feeling guilty, and clearly not in any type of good mood yet your first reaction is to smirk???? You think this is funny?? Now is not the time to tease, Ms. Dumbass.

Vi needs compassion and reassurance not. . . Whatever that was. Yes, showing that you knew all along and didn't do anything to stop her shows that you do care for her, but it also isn't what she needs. Caitlyn did not reassure her that Vi wasn't going to lose her so easily.

Mainly because if she did, that'd be a lie, but that's neither here nor there.

"Sorry to say, you've grown a bit predictable."

Girl, you are not sorry. Quit lying. I can smell the smoke coming off your pants, but I'm not getting the fire extinguisher.

Again, this isn't what Vi needs. Any therapist would be able to tell you that you should seek healthier coping mechanisms other than sex. Does cuddling not exist? Does making out and then putting a stop to it because you realize your girl is not in the right state of mind for this exist??? Seeking sex after feeling so vulnerable and horrible about yourself is in no way, shape, or form okay. Shit isn't cute.

Caitlyn, you are more of an animal than you realize.

"Listen! While you were gone, I. . . Saw someone."

All of a sudden you realize that you should stop things because you feel guilty, but that guilt isn't over letting your girl go down on you after being upset and grieving, but about. . . Having another girl while she was gone???? Girl, seriously, your priorities are wack.

She does hesitate for a moment once she sees VI's injury (I can't remember where the injury came from. I stg if it came from Caitlyn or whatever Caitlyn ordered her to do. . .) yet she continues on. There are multiple reasons why they shouldn't do it right then and there, but Caitlyn is so horny she lets Vi pleasure her.

The reasons:

1. Vi is not in the right place of mind, she just lost her sister. Please let her grieve.

2. That is a jail cell. After what happened to her, their first time should be somewhere comfortable. Vi deserves comfort. She deserves to be spoiled. You're in Piltover, Caitlyn has a mansion with a really good bed, but your first fuck is in a dirty jail cell??

3. That is a jail cell that contained her sister. Vi can't reclaim shit about having sex in a jail cell if it's a cell that contained her sister. If there was better writing, she'd feel guilty over having sex in the cell she lost her sister. Her guilt isn't going to immediately go away because of one fuck. That's not how it works. Wish it was, but it's not.

Can I also note that Vi is the one pleasuring Caitlyn and not the other way around? Maybe Vi prefers to eat out rather than be eaten, but I think it just speaks more to her always servicing others rather than servicing herself or being serviced. If the sex scene was gonna happen, at least show Vi being completely selfish and enjoying herself by showing Cait be the one to kiss her down to her coochie. Maybe she's a stone top, but she gives off switch vibes to me.

Fuck you, Cait. Always wanting things to benefit you.

(If it was me, I'd eat Vi out, but, again, that's neither here nor there. . . She's not even in my top favs. I just want the best for her cause I hate Caitlyn lol.)

"I'm feeling fantastic."

FUCK YOUUUU

Okay *drops mic* , rant over

#sesbian lex #anti caitvi #anti caitlyn kiramman #orignally didnt care for Vi much but I want better for her #sorry for the messy text but I wanted to try and not lose people's attention by making it one bit paragraph #also #fun fact about me but i prefer big text over anything else #im so blind man and my prescription is getting worse cause i have no idea how to take the eye tests #my docs were so concerned and the only reason my results changed so drastically is cause i dont know how to take eye exams #rant post #emotionally loaded language #love that #the thinker #just spitting words but you get my drift right?#lol this is a mess but idc #dedicated to all the CaitVi stuff i have to get off my tumblr dash or whatever #im a hater #arcane #arcane rant

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gay-dorito-dust · 5 hours ago

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Hello Dorito!

Can you please write Bruce, Dick, Jason and Clark receiving a good luck kiss on the cheek from their crush before they go on a mission? I’m curious how they would individually react and what their thoughts would be. I thought it would be cute if it was pre relationship for some reason (*'ω'*)

Dick

The moment you kiss his cheek, dick just smiles softly.

‘What was that for?’ He’d ask, his thoughts going a mile a minute as to what this all meant in the long run of your relationships as he knew damn well friends didn’t kiss each other on the cheek…well unless they were close like that, but Dick typically knew it wasn’t and wanted answers before he left for the mission.

‘Good luck?’ You shrug.

‘Just good luck?’ Dick would tease, but on the inside he was hop in that this was going where he was thinking it was going, hoping he wasn’t reading anything you were putting down wrong as he didn’t want anything to be misconstrued or misinterpreted. He wanted this moment for so long and wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to having something worth coming home to; or someone worth coming home to after a long and intense mission.

Dick would look like he was confident and whatnot but on the inside he was more happier then he’s ever been in his entire life. He wanted to shout to the rooftops that he had been kissed on the cheek by the person he liked, but instead decided to play it cool and try to work his charisma into his favour with you in hopes of a date. He’s done being coy and dropping hints, the kiss on the cheek had to mean something to you as it did with him.

Jason

Blinks several times as his brain tries to accept that you did just kiss him on the cheek.

He reaches up to touch the cheek you kissed lightly as his insides were waging war with one another, he was glad that you made a move first as now Jason knew you had some liking towards him, especially if you were willing to go out of your way to kiss his cheek before he leaves for a mission.

This felt like something he had read out of many, many, many books that he never thought he himself would ever experience in his lifetime, and yet here he was being kissed on the cheek by the person who he had a raging crush on that felt like it came straight out of a movie. He’s aware of his crush on you, insanely so, but when you kissed his cheek he didn’t know whether it was with platonic or romantic intentions.

Jason wanted so badly for it to be romantic, his heart yearned for it like he yearned for you as long as he had, trying not to show just how he melted like putty in your touches and general affection towards him. Other people try to touch him and he hisses at them, but you? You could hold his cheeks and he’d be fighting to need to close his eyes and melt into your hands, feeling safe enough within your presence to do so then he ever had anyone else in a long, long time.

He knew he was fucked the moment he realised that he didn’t want to push you away but pull you in close. Jason knew he was fucked but in that moment he didn’t care because a life of love with you was a risk he was willing to to take, after all he was deserving of a sweeter aspect of life then the one he was already given.

Clark

Feels his cheeks burn as he rubs the back of his head, the feel of your lips still very much lingering on his skin.

The kiss was soft, it was sweet and innocent but it was enough to have Clark becoming a little flustered and a bit sheepish in looking you in the eye, but he managed to do so and it was obvious by the look in his eyes that it was something that would affect his mind for a long while; even when you were long from view you’ll still be in the forefront in his mind.

His voice was caught in his throat but his mind was filled to the brim with all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t, for as soon as you kissed his cheek and wishing him luck, you were already out of his line of sight with a knowing smile graced upon your lips upon your exit.

Clark knew that he’d have to have some words with you when he gets back, but until then he could only assume that you were both on the same page without having to speak words to one another, the attraction was clear but would need to be communicated clearly sooner or later.

Clark could only hope he wasn’t the only one feeling something between the two of you, he was hopeful that he wasn’t when you placed your hand on the s symbol on his chest and looked at him the way you did.

Bruce

Doesn’t show much change visibly but his eyes do shine in amusement and his posture seemed to straighten a little more, only the keenest of eyes would’ve seen that he had also leant into your lips when you kissed his cheek.

Bruce prided himself in being a well put together man, but the moment you kissed his cheek that collapsed in on itself, and he was left wanting nothing more then to ask for another kiss and so he did with a hint of mischief upon his tongue.

‘Do I get another one?’ He asks you.

You only shrug. ‘Only if you come back in one piece then you can have as many cheek kisses as you’d like.’

He may have made an entire playboy persona for public outings and such, but in that moment he felt like a teenager with their first crush again, wanting nothing more then to ask Alfred if engaging in a relationship with you was worth the risks. He is a smart man and knew what he wants and yet while he knew what he wanted, he couldn’t claim to know what you want and didn’t want to assume on your behalf when you didn’t say anything of substance.

Bruce knew that something was different between the two of you -outside of him having a crush on you of course- and knew that once he gets back to Gotham he’ll have to strike while he still could in hopes that you’d allow him to treat you right, and allow him to spoil you rotten once in a while, and keep you safe should you all him to have your heart by taking you on a date to your favourite place.

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greyowl-archives · 11 hours ago

Text

Thin Ice ~ A.H

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

wc: 4.7k

cw: kind of secret relationship that only the team is really aware of, agent!reader, Hotch being angry (my favorite gender), insecurity, a bit of angst if you squint, wife!reader, injury, blood, protective!Hotch

a/n: Second fic Rah! Woah this is longer than I thought. Soz for the delay guys, got caught up in some uni work but will try my best to put something out once a week. Don’t know how I feel bout this one if I’m being fr.

Summary: A retired agent comes back to assist with a case and immediately decides he has it out for you. Hotch is tempted to call him out for it but you assure him it’s fine. That is until the agent carries out an outrageous idea that puts your safety in jeopardy. Your husband leaves the agent with a bit more than just a warning.

“You’re here early” You heard Rossi comment as he walked into the conference room.

You gave a half hearted hum, not looking up from the files you were reading over. “early start to my day” you replied. “Managed to get to bed at a reasonable hour last night”

That wasn’t entirely untrue. You were out practically the moment you put the kids to bed and collapsed into yours. The reason you were up bright and early, however, wasn’t by a well timed bedtime but rather the fact that by the time it reached four in the morning and you’ve already woken up practically every hour before then, you decided to just get up and get a head start at the bureau.

Aaron was going to be on your ass today.

Your lack of text message from him this morning said as much. You knew he had felt you shifting restlessly around in the bed and there was no chance he didn’t wake up when you quietly slipped out a few hours later. And since nothing got past that man, you knew he would’ve seen the trashed remains of the not one, but two cups of coffee you hastily downed before your departure.

Any moment now, he was going to walk in, Wednesday today so he was going to have his grey suit on with the red tie. You liked that suit on him, it was one of your favorites, and he will definitely use that fact to his advantage. He’ll greet the team and just as he reaches his seat next to you, he’ll catch your eye with a fleeting look, one that with three years, approaching four of marriage behind you, didn’t need any words.

And speak of the devil, here he was.

You didn’t look up, didn’t have to to know it was him. You recognized the pace of his shoes against his stride and the faint sound of the briefcase buckles.

“Morning” you heard him greet the team as he walked in, his steps going louder as he approached your side of the table.

He placed his files on the table and within the next moment, your third cup of coffee was taken out of your hand and set aside.

“(Y/N)” he greeted, his voice low.

You finally tilted your head up to glance up at him and there it was, the hardness of his eyes, the slight furrow of his brow, the look.

It didn’t linger long before Aaron sat down, letting Penelope present the case.

Female abductor. Sexual sadist. Serial Murderer.

You wondered if seeing these things on file will ever get easier. You felt your stomach coil at the sight of the women, their faces lifeless and eyes forever frozen with terror. Big holes in the palms of their hands and in each of their feet like they were….

“Crucified?” Emily offered.

Spencer shook his head.

“No, the angle of the wounds doesn’t align with those of a crucification” he turned the file to the side a bit, his eyes scanning over the pictures. You could practically hear the gears in his head turning.

“They were hung” he finally said.

“Like from hooks? Like the ones at a butchers?” You asked, lifting your head up from the file.

Another shake of his head.

“No…pinned, like to a wall” Spencer straightened up, his brows raising like they always did before he dumped a bunch of information. “The evidence of torture is consistent with his anger and hatred for the women as well as the assault, however also consistent is his sexual sadism. After he’s done with them he’ll hang them up like trophies, just like hunters”

Yeah. It’ll never get easier.

“Alright, Garcia run through all the records of hunting rifles purchased within the area and cross that with mental health assessments” Aaron said.

“Right away sir”

“Before we leave-“ his voice stopped everyone in their tracks. “-Agent Carter, former associate director of the Criminal Investigations Unit, will be assisting us with the case today. He will be meeting us at the airport”

“Shouldn’t he be here with us?” Derek asked “This is a critical case, we should make sure he’s familiar with it”

“He’s good at what he does. You guys will need to trust him. Wheels up in an hour. Agent (L/N), a minute”

You lingered behind as you watched the rest of the team file out before letting out a breath.

“I told you Aaron, it’s fine” you said once the door closed.

“I’m having a hard time believing you”

He sat against the table, his arms crossing across his chest, his head tilting a bit so he could see your face better.

“What’s going on? Don’t lie to me”

His voice softened, taking on that gentle tone he always used with you, knowing it made you weak.

You sighed, your eyes dropping down to your fingers which were absentmindedly tracing over the table.

“I want to do better…be better” you said quietly. You saw him shift in your peripheral as he realized what this is about.

“You did what you thought was right”

“What I thought was right ended with a girl dead Aaron” you bit back.

It had been a slip in the case, the unsub was smarter than the team initially thought. In a spontaneous decision, you went in alone, only a gun on you to protect you.

For a moment, things were looking up despite the grim circumstances. You found the girl, got her untied, and started guiding her back to the exit with no altercation. That should’ve been your first warning. It was too easy. And then just as you were about to leave, he appeared out from behind a wall, a different girl in his arms, a gun pressed to her head.

What was going to be the biggest hit of your career quickly turned into a gamble. One life for another.

You hadn’t prepared to have to talk him down and you weren’t yet experienced enough to do it on a whim. So you took the shot.

But he must’ve seen it in your eyes because the girl would go down with him.

It had weighed on you heavily, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the team.

Aaron especially.

He normally hovered over you- always having you somewhere in his line of sight, trailing behind you where he could whether that was interrogations or to areas of interest, and when he couldn’t he’d make sure he knew where you were-but that protectiveness was just a byproduct of your marriage.

But after this incident he was just…everywhere all the time.

He wasn’t subtle about having you in his sight anymore and you could see him practically everywhere you turned…hovering. You weren’t allowed anywhere alone let alone barely even be alone.

He assured you that your slip up didn’t change your standing as an agent with him, but it seemed like everytime the team was called to go out on the field, he’d find some excuse to keep you on the sidelines.

“I just feel like you don’t trust me anymore” you said, looking back up at him.

He glanced away for a moment before letting out a breath.

“I’m taking the necessary precautions”

You watched as he stood back up to his feet, straightening his blazer out.

“I’ll see you in a bit”

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

Agent Carter was a short man with an even shorter patience.

He greets Aaron and Rossi with a firm handshake but barely regards the rest of you, save for a brief nod.

Now you’re in a sort of awkward corner with Aaron sitting next to you while Rossi and Carter sit across from you.

“She must be a talented one for you to choose her for the case” Carter said, nodding towards you.

You turned your gaze away from the window at his words, your brow furrowing a bit at the implications behind them.

“She’s a special agent not an intern” Aaron said curtly, not looking up from his file.

The agent seemed surprised at this, his brows quirking. “No kidding. How old even is she?”

This time, Aaron’s eyes flickered up at the agent, a hint on irritation passing through them.

“How about you ask her?”

“Twenty four” you said before the agent could open his mouth.

“That’s young”

“Does that matter?”

“I don’t know. Are you good?”

“Substantially”

Agent Carter nodded silently, his eyes raking over you for a brief moment.

“I hope you are right”

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

Your lips were cracking even before you got out of the airport.

Oro Valley Arizona, in the middle of May.

Just your luck to be stationed outside of the city in the big open desert, with no proper ac unit as far as the eye can see.

You squinted, your sunglasses not helping much with the sun that was beating down on you as you looked over the scene.

“And you searched this entire area?” You asked, looking up from where the latest body was found, now covered by a white sheet.

The sheriff nodded.

“Yes ma’am. Expanded our sweep to two miles in every direction. Found nothin’ helpful, not even shoe prints. This killer is stealthy”

You hummed, nodding your head.

“Yes he is”

You stepped back up to the main road where the team had set up under a white tent.

“What you got sunshine?” Derek asked as you joined them under the shade. You sighed. “Stealthy but predictable. You?”

Derek shook his head, looking over the scene photos again. “Same. No evidence. It’s like she just appeared here”

You frowned as you saw officers begin to head back into their cars. “What’s this about?”

“I told them to sweep the scene again, identify what car the guy used from any tracks left behind in the sand” Agent Carter said, not looking up from his files.

“The sheriff told me they checked, not even in just the surrounding area but two miles out, no tire tracks in the sand were found” you said. “There’s reason to believe he drove here but carried her to the dump spot on foot”

“Do I look like a damn idiot to you?” The agent suddenly asked. You blinked, not expecting the harsh tone.

“Sorry?”

Agent Carter sighed heavily, closing the file in his hand.

“Look kid, I get that you’re all young and excited to be involved in this case and stuff, but just let the professionals with more experience do their jobs alright?”

Any irritation you already suppressed from his earlier attitude came bubbling back in your chest and you felt heat rise into your cheeks.

“I think it is within everyone’s best interests not to waste our time chasing leads we don’t have” You bit back.

He let out a bitter laugh, his files dropping harshly onto the table in front of him as he turned towards you.

“Yeah you’d know a lot about best interests huh? Like how your best interest got that girl killed?”

That was a low blow.

You should’ve seen it coming, but it truly caught you by surprise and you visibly froze up.

Behind you, you heard Derek get up from his seat. “Watch it man”

The agent let out a scoff, his eyes flickering between you two. “I think you’re best sitting this one out agent” he muttered to you, turning back to his files.

You swallowed thickly, feeling as though all the moisture has been sucked out of your throat. Derek went to place a hand on your shoulder but you were already storming off, pushing past Aaron who was just walking up to join you guys.

“(Y/N)?” He called after you but you ignored him, the corners of your vision already blurring with tears as you made your way to the car.

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

You watched the distant figures of your team working beneath the tents, some getting into cars and coming back while others walked about the area.

Aaron had glanced over in your direction a few times but you just turned away, plagued with a deep sense of shame.

You told him you were going to be fine.

This was going to be the case that proved to him that you could handle it. And yet here you were, sitting in time out like a child.

You imagine Derek had filled him in on a word or two hence why he hadn’t attempted to come over to you yet.

It was only when the evening had fallen were you waking up with him getting into the car. You lifted your head from where it was leaning against the window, wincing a bit at the soreness in your neck.

He didn’t say anything for a good moment, simply quietly starting the car before pulling out onto the main road.

You drove in silence until the scene disappeared into the darkness of the Arizona desert and then he spoke.

“I’ve heard what happened” he said, his voice soft.

You don’t respond.

“Are you alright?” He asks

You swallow again, your eyes fixing on the road ahead of you.

“Maybe he’s right Aaron, maybe I shouldn’t…I can’t…”

“Hey, stop that, we talked about this (Y/N)”

You let out a breath that sounded like a scoff.

“Did we?”

You saw him straighten up from the corner of your eye at your retort.

He sighed heavily, a sign he was getting worked up and he was keeping himself in check.

“(Y/N)” he repeated, his voice firmer. “I told you I am taking-“

“-the necessary precautions, honestly Aaron just give me a break” you said with an exasperated breath, your body slumping into your seat as your arms crossed over your chest, your head turning to the window. “I just want to go to the hotel” you murmured, your voice quiet and laced with defeat.

You felt Aaron look at you, practically could feel the way his brows furrowed before he returned his attention to the road.

Three hours later, after a quick dinner and much needed warm shower, the two of you were tucked into bed. Aaron, exhausted by the heat and from following sheriffs practically back and forth all day from the same three places, was already dozed off beside you, his breath leaving him in soft snores.

You were wide awake, turned onto your side as you watched him in the quiet darkness of the room, your eyes following the way the street lamp light traced along his features. You liked watching him in moments like these, away from the demand of work and where you can see him as the soft Aaron only get to see at home.

You sighed, slowly turning back onto your back before pushing yourself up, quietly slipping out of the bed. You turned back, making sure Aaron was still asleep and once you were satisfied, you reached for your sweater, pulling it over your head as you silently left the room.

You didn’t know where you were going, just wandering aimlessly through the brightly lit hallway.

Eventually, you stop at a small sitting area, sinking down into one of the brown leather armchairs, leaning back against it and allowing your eyes to close.

“Long night?”

The voice startles you and your head snaps up, your eyes fixing on the figure standing in front of you.

Agent Carter in all his glory, still dressed in his suit, stood a few paces away from you, a somewhat unreadable expression on his face.

“You can say that”

You say back.

Agent Carter sighs.

“Look” he says, circling the chair across from you and sitting down. “I know we got off on a bad start”

“Bad might be an understatement” you muttered.

“Right just…” he sighs again. “Listen as unbelievable as this sounds…I see myself a lot in you kid” he said.

You watch as his hands clasp together his thumbs tapping against each other. Your eyes flicker back up to his face, trying to decipher where he was going with this.

“I want to give you the opportunity of a lifetime that’ll elevate your career as an agent to standards that rival Hotchner and Rossi”

Against your better judgment, your curiosity peaked. “Go on”

A small grin graced his lips.

“We can have this unsub in handcuffs before anyone wakes up in the morning. Oh just imagine their faces, his face when he sees what you’ve managed. How does that sound?”

Good.

Really good in fact.

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

Maybe there’s a point to that tight, coiling feeling in your gut when you’re putting your life on the line.

You force yourself to breathe, to keep your head up and your arms relaxed at your sides as you walked through the quiet streets, your path only illuminated by the yellow streetlamps.

Your heels clicked steadily against the pavement, the hem of your short dress brushing against the skin of your thighs with each step.

This was risky. Dangerous. Stupid above all.

You were vaguely aware of the black car trailing behind you in the shadows, you could feel the watchful eyes of the sheriff and agent Carter on you, offering a minimal semblance of security as you baited yourself out.

Baited was put lightly.

You were handing yourself over to this killer on a silver platter and an apple in your mouth.

You closed your eyes for a moment, forcing your mind to focus, to relax. If you’re too tense, he won’t come.

A gust of wind breezed past you and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, goosebumps sweeping across your skin.

“A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be out here in the cold”

A car, a older Mercedes Benz, pulled up to a stop next to you. Your eyes fixed upon his face behind the wheel, barely visible in the shitty streetlight above you.

Younger, a lot younger than you’ve anticipated.

Anywhere from brown to sandy brown hair and if you squinted, you could make out the green of his eyes.

You stopped in your stride, making a purpose to exaggerate the swing of your hips as you turned to him, arching your back as you leaned against the car, ducking your head to see him better.

“What would you know what a pretty girl like me should and shouldn’t do?” You asked, a sweet, flirtatious smile on your lips.

He chuckled lowly, leaning towards you a bit.

“How about you get in this car and I’ll show you pretty girl”

Your eyes subtly darted around, anticipating for the black car to come out of the shadows to make the arrest, but it never did.

You bit your lip, a deep coil of dread tightening in your stomach at the realization of what you had to do. A thick swallow and strained smile later, you were buckling yourself into the passenger seat as the car steadily pulled off the curb, your gaze just barely catching the sight of the black car emerging and turning away in the direction opposite of you.

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

Your eyes fluttered open, your vision darkened and blurred, an insistent high pitched ringing in your ears making it hard to focus on anything else.

A sharp pain pulsed at the back of your head, making you squint against the light steadily beaming over you in the otherwise dim room.

“There’s my pretty girl”

A rough hand gently caressed your hair and a cold plunge went down your spine as the guy came into view.

He stopped in front of you, leaning down with his hands pressing against your forearms and you could smell the acrid sweet smoke that lingered from his cigarettes.

He tilted his head, his face morphing into a sickly mocking expression.

“Aww dont be like that. You’re the most beautiful piece I’ll have in my gallery”

You didn’t want to show weakness, give him the satisfaction of your fear, but the reality that this really might be it, that you’ll become another victim to your case, was starting to set in.

He let go off your hair and your head dropped.

You heard him straighten up and saw him step away to a nearby table, coming back with a small blade that glinted as it appeared in your line of vision.

You closed your eyes again as you felt the cool metal slide beneath the ropes binding your wrists.

You tried to imagine it was him.

Aaron.

Tried to imagine he was kneeling in front of you, one of those gentle chuckles that you loved so much rumbling in his chest as he worked to get the satin rope off your wrists.

“How’d you even manage to do this sweetheart?”

He’d asked, shaking his head in amusement. You could’ve only blushed and looked away, a shy smile on your lips. It was his birthday and you had wanted to surprise him when he got home from work that night, except you got yourself tangled trying to wrap yourself up for him and ended up stuck on your bed for him to discover.

Your wrists would be freed and he’d help you up to your feet. “Don’t be shy, angel” he murmured against your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and then to the corner of your mouth. You could smell his cologne, diluted by the smell of paper and coffee from the office, his aftershave against his skin, wood…

Blood

Your eyes opened again as your head was yanked back by your hair, landing upon a canvas of wood.

“You’ll look so pretty up there. Prettier than any painting ever painted”

Your stomach turned as you looked upon it, the blood that had saturated into the wood, lighter in areas where the bodies were pressed against it, the splintering where the women had struggled in their last moments.

“Stay still. You don’t want this to hurt more than it has too”

A click of a gun.

“Let her go”

Aaron’s voice startled you more than the situation you were in.

You were promptly yanked around and the blade of a knife was pressed right against your throat as you were pulled back against the guy behind you.

There you could see him, standing off just where the light could reach, his gun drawn and angled steadily in front of him. His hair was soft and beneath his vest, you could make out the familiar white shirt that he slept in that night.

Maybe you were imagining things.

Maybe you were already hanging from the canvas in that foreboding room, your neurons firing the last image of him in their dying moments.

“There you are agent, just in time for the show”

“There will be no show”

“I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong”

You felt the knife press harder into your skin, breaking it ever so slightly. Aaron’s eyes met yours for a moment.

Leave.

Don’t watch me die.

And then, he lowered his gun.

You watched as he placed it down on the table beside him, the sound emitting around the room.

You saw his palms raising in the light, a white flag amongst the battle.

Your body slumped a bit with relief.

This didn’t have to turn worse than it already was.

You opened your eyes again to him only to see he wasn’t looking at you.

His eyes were fixed on something behind you.

In fragments of a second, the weight of the body behind you was sliding down and crumpling to the floor, the blade of the knife falling from your throat and clattering to the ground at your feet.

You hadn’t even processed the sound of a gun going off until Aaron was in front of you, his strong arms enveloping you as your knees buckled.

“There you go, I’ve got you. It’s ok, you’re ok” he murmured, his lips brushing against your head.

The tape was pulled from your lips and you let out a weak breath, your throat seeming to burn from the thick air.

“Aaron” you exhaled against him, your hands shakily wrapped around his neck, your fingers sliding into his hair, holding him, feeling him.

“Aaron I’m sorry I just wanted to-“ you babbled, the damns breaking as tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Shh we’ll talk about this later. Let’s get you out of here”

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

An ambulance was already outside waiting for you on the side of the road.

The air was frigid and the surrounding area was dark, miles of empty desert spanning in every direction around you.

You sat quietly on the back edge of the vehicle, wrapped in Aaron’s jacket as the paramedics treated the wounds around your wrists and Aaron sat next to you, holding an ice pack to your head.

The rest of the team lingered around you, keeping enough distance for you and Aaron to have some space.

“Hey Morgan, take over for a minute” you heard Aaron say as he stood. You lifted your head up at him, giving him an inquisitive look.

“I’ll be right back sweetheart” he said, pressing a kiss to your head as Derek took his place next to you.

You watched Aaron walk up to the car that had pulled up a few paces ahead. “Who’s that?” You asked.

“A man who’s place I would not want to be in right now” Derek answered.

The car door opened and out stepped Agent Carter. You saw his mouth barely open before Aaron was on him.

“Who gave you the order?” Aaron demanded, his hands grasping at the lapels of the other man’s blazer and pushing him back against the car.

Agent Carter swallowed before he spoke.

“I assure you we made the plan with as much caution-“

Aaron cut him off, his grip tightening around the fabric.

“Caution? My agent gets swept up in five seconds right under your nose? Was that part of the ‘cautiously arranged’ plan?”

“My plan-” agent Carter said, pushing Aaron off him”-led us to him didn’t it?”

There was a heavy moment of silence and you could see Aaron’s jaw clench before he spoke again.

“You had no authority to carry out this plan without my knowledge. You evaded my authority as unit chief and jeopardized the safety and life of one of my agents”

Agent Carter sighed. “It won’t happen again alright?”

“It won’t because you are no longer an agent” Aaron said. “The attorney general will be informed of your actions and you will be placed under investigation for obstruction of justice and the deliberate endangerment to safety of a federal agent” he held out his hand, an expectant look in his eyes.

You saw the other man’s eyes flicker down to his hand and then back up to his face, hesitating, hoping Aaron would let down. But he didn’t. Aaron kept his stance firm and eventually, with a sigh, Jamie Carter handed over his badge and gun.

“Strauss will be waiting for you when we land back in Quantico” Aaron said. He gave a brief nod to JJ and Rossi who escorted Carter to one of the nearby federal cars.

Aaron walked back to you, glancing down at the badge in his hand for a moment before tucking it away into his pocket. He smiled lightly as he approached, thanking Derek as he retook his place beside you.

You sighed, looking up at him. “I’m sorry again for everything Aaron” you said quietly. “I should’ve discussed the plan with you beforehand”

He hummed and then was silent for a moment.

“When we get back, Penelope will have your new badge. I just got the confirmation that it was validated”

You frown in confusion as you watch him stand once again. “New badge?”

Aaron smiled, his dimples indenting his cheeks.

“Well, i think it’d be impractical for an SSA to walk around with a regular special agent badge, don’t you think?”

GIF from Pinterest

Headers from @cafekitsune

#aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotch fanfiction #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x reader

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bucksangel · 1 day ago

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no feelin' in the firelight

pairing: chubby!alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader

word count: 1.9k

summary: A normal Friday night turns into something so much more when Bucky asks if you remember the night you met.

warnings: the end is suggestive so 18+ only PLEASE and THANK YOU, omegaverse, true mates, love at first sight, proposals, this is just a whole lot of fluff, like there’s nothing but cavities here, some teasing but it’s out of love

masterlist | tip jar | ao3

a/n: this is one of the shortest things i’ve ever written but i’m in a bit of a funk with writing so i wanted to do something short and sweet, so here y’all go!

"Do you remember the night we met?" The deep timbre of Bucky's voice washes over you, blanketing you in its richness and warming you almost as much as the bonfire only a few feet away. A smile breaks across your face, and you can't help the quiet giggle that escapes your lips at the memory.

It was nearing seven, and the sky was shrouded in dark clouds, fat droplets of water pouring down from the heavens and soaking all of Brooklyn, forcing all its occupants to seek shelter. You'd been sitting at a table in the back corner of Irene's Diner for a few hours before the rain started and decided to wait out the storm while reading your newest find from the used bookstore nearby.

You were content to read in the silence of the empty shop with your food long since eaten and your second cup of coffee already halfway gone, but then the front door was nearly ripped off its hinges and the bell above it dinged wildly as someone entered. It was a man, an Alpha, who stood well over six feet tall. His biceps bulged against his sweater that was now soaked to his skin, his thighs looked to be suffocating in those jeans, and his belly, oh god his belly. So soft and round, and you could immediately envision yourself coming home from a long day at work to rest your head on the man's chest and feel his body pressing against yours to ease your worries.

He's the type of Alpha to make any Omega swoon, and you swooned. Oh, did you swoon. You swooned internally and, horrifyingly, externally as well. The high-pitched squeak you let out when his eyes met yours made you wish for the ground to open and swallow you whole. But, come on, one could arguably say that the Alpha was having a bad day, and yet he still looked and smelled like that. His scent - fresh cedar wood with a hint of floral - wasn't overpowered by the smell of the rain mixed with the grass that was freshly cut only hours before, like it should have been. Given the environment, you'd have been surprised that you could smell anything resembling his true scent if you didn't instinctively know why you could -

He's your mate. You know it. Just by smell alone, you know that he is your one true love.

And, judging by the look of shock and awe on the Alpha's face, you would assume he's thinking something similar about you.

"I do," You whisper back, fiddling with Bucky's fingers that rest on your stomach. It's a standard Friday night and you're laying in the hammock you have set up in your backyard, your back to Bucky's chest as you stare up at the stars, and a mischievous glint forms in your eyes. "I remember thinking you looked like a drowned kitten - hey!" You're cut off by your Alpha poking you in the side, breaking off into giggles as he tickles you some more until you're squirming enough to rock the hammock.

"Are you sorry now, 'mega?" Bucky asks cockily, and you can't see his face, but you know he's smiling - probably that dopey one he always wears when he looks at you. "Are you sorry for making fun of your Alpha?"

"No." It's true; he knows you're not sorry, and he knows you'll tease him again. Does he mind, though? Not one bit. He'll let you get away with saying just about anything if it means you keep talking to him with that soft tone and that sparkle in your eyes you reserve only for him.

"Here I was about to go on about how I knew you were my mate from the moment our eyes locked and you're teasing me," Bucky huffs, and you don't even try to stop your eyes from rolling. God, he's so dramatic.

"I'm teasing you because I love you." Immediately, Bucky deflates, and you can feel the unwavering love he has for you flowing through the bond at your declaration, which makes you settle in place as well.

"And I love you, my mate," Bucky says, nuzzling your temple with a soft smile.

Growing up hearing about bonds and mates had prepared you for meeting yours; you'd daydreamed about the perfect partner and planned out your futures by thirteen years old. Your parents had instilled in you that while you may be an Omega, you were no less deserving of love and respect than an Alpha, and that you should never settle for less than that. And while dating was a little difficult due to quite a bit of Alphas having more traditional views of relationships and designations, your parents never let you fall into their traps. You understand you're extremely lucky to have the parents you do, but after a while it seemed like you'd never meet an Alpha that would treat you the way they said you should be treated.

But then July 21st of 2022 came around, and the Alpha you and your parents always wanted for you came walking into your life, turning it upside down and going so far beyond what you expected out of a relationship that even after two years together, you're still not quite sure if Bucky is just a dream.

It hits you right then, the feeling of being loved and being in love with someone who has made a five-hour round-trip to get your parents and bring them to his house after theirs was damaged in a storm, letting them stay with you two until their place could get fixed.

You're in love with someone who volunteers at the local library, reading to the kids, even watching over them for a short time so their parents can get some shopping done in peace.

You're in love with a caring and selfless Alpha, who gives you anything you could ever want, and all he asks for in return is you.

You've always known you wanted to marry Bucky, so you're not sure why it feels like a revelation when it crosses your mind just now, but it does. It feels like new information, as though you haven't known you were going to spend the rest of your life with him from the moment he came up to your table, soaked and sheepish, letting you know that he doesn't mean to be a stereotypical Alpha but he has to let you know that you're beautiful and he also really loves the author whose book you're reading.

"Omega?" Bucky's gentle voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and you crane your neck to smile back at him.

"You know I'm going to marry you, right?" You don't know why you say it; it's just the first thing that comes to mind. But your Alpha's reaction to your sudden declaration doesn't disappoint.

"Well, currently, my only life plan involves being with you forever, so I can only hope you want to marry me too," Bucky chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. It's only brief, though, because you pull back and turn as much as you can so you can look into your Alpha's eyes.

"No, like..." You trail off, chewing on your bottom lip as you think over what to say. You're not sure what you want to say exactly, but when your mate is Bucky Barnes, it's a little hard to think of any words in any language that can properly convey how you feel. "I know we've talked about it a little, and that it's kind of a given since we're true mates. But, whether we're mates or not, I'd still choose to marry you. I'd still choose to love you even if fate tried to lie to me and say that you're not meant for me. I have our whole wedding planned out, too. What food we're going to have, the color schemes, I'm even thinking you can train Alpine to be the flower girl and carry a basket of roses down the aisle. Like, I've planned everything. I'm going to marry you, Bucky Barnes. I'm serious."

"And you think I'm not?" He asks, and even though there's a hint of playfulness in his tone, the look in his eyes brings tears to yours. He just looks so damn happy, and that's all you want for him; all you want is to make him feel as happy and loved as he makes you feel.

Bucky shuffles a little, removing one of his arms from around your body so he can dig into the pocket of his jeans. He has a determined look on his face; your brows furrow in confusion when he takes whatever he had in his pocket out of it, and his hand is large enough that it completely encompasses whatever it is.

"What is it, Buck?" You ask, bringing up your hands to cover his closed one. When he nods to your joined hands, he uncurls his fingers to reveal what he was holding - a small black box.

A small black box.

All of the air leaves your lungs, and you know what it holds without even having to look at it. That doesn't stop a few tears from running down your cheeks and a small squeak from leaving your lips when you see the gorgeous gold band nestled inside.

"Wha -"

"I told you I was serious," Bucky murmurs, using his free hand to take out the ring and set the box aside so he can also hold your left hand. "I didn't exactly have a plan on when I was going to propose; I figured I would just know when the time is right. I didn't have any intentions of it being tonight, but now I know that I have to do it now."

There's a lump in your throat, your head is spinning, and you have to pinch yourself because if this is a dream, then you want to wake up now before he asks, and then it all goes away.

But it doesn't go away; the dream doesn't fizzle out when you feel that sharp pain. You'll ask Bucky later to tell you again what he said leading up to his question because all you can hear right now is your own heartbeat pounding away with each new word that his lips form. It's all a haze until -

"Will you marry me?"

You barely let him get the question out before you're practically screaming "yes!" into the air, then dive down to capture his lips with yours. The kiss is frantic and a little messy, and it's never been more perfect because it's a kiss with Bucky, your mate, your Alpha, your soon-to-be-husband. And the kiss goes on and on, your tongues tangling with each other as you explore old territory as though it's for the first time until the need to breathe outweighs your desperation to show your Alpha how much he means to you.

"Yes," You breathe against his lips when you pull back. It takes a few moments of laughing and sniffling for both of you to settle back into your original positions, but when you do, you stare up at the stars with a newfound appreciation.

"So," Bucky says, wrapping his arms around you even tighter now as he plays with your fingers, "tell me, what's our wedding going to be like?"

You end up falling asleep outside that night, talking about the plans for the ceremony and the possible honeymoon destinations until your voice gets scratchy and you can barely keep your eyes open.

And if there are tears of happiness in Bucky's eyes the whole time, then, well, it's not like your eyes are dry either.

taglist: @lilyalone @crazyunsexycool @goldylions @yeehawbrothers @buckysprettybaby @buckyssweetheart @heytheredelulu @somnorvos @ozwriterchick @pxgeturner @gentlelimerence @myfavbuckyfics @justsebstan @brookeleclerc @fandoms-writings @pocolottie

#let me know what yall think!!#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #chubby!bucky #chubby!bucky barnes #alpha!bucky #alpha!bucky barnes #my writing #my stuff #bucky fic rec

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just-a-sewer-goblin · 16 hours ago

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Collars Of Duty 5

MalinoisHybrid!Simon x reader Chapter 4 - (Chapter 6) Finally reunited again, Simon attacked you as soon as you met. Will this be the breaking point for you or can you work through it and help you both. ~ 8,8k words Content (might contain spoilers): biting, blood, attack, hybrid AU, mentions of torture, medical inaccuracies

A.N: I'm sorry it took so long. I'm pretty slow with updates. I hope you enjoy it. Although I am currently at the I hate it stage but I decided that I should consider it as good enough as it is. Enjoy. Also I suck at spelling so feel free to point out mistakes.

It’s absurd how the seconds stretch until they feel like minutes. The pain is excruciating but you can’t look away from Simon’s face. Your arm feels like it’s on fire, the stinging and burning sensation racing through it until you think you can’t bear it anymore and yet you have the mind to think about it. Instead of instinctively slapping at Simon or kicking him you stare. Is it normal to think this rationally in a moment like this?

It’s like your frozen in time. Neither of you moving, his vicious fangs embedded in your arm. His face is still scrunched up in a threatening display but you catch the flickering hint of fear glinting in his eyes. It makes you want to comfort him and you think you might be stupid, wanting to comfort a hybrid that’s hurting you.

Steps slowly draw closer and when you look to the side you catch sight of Nate’s lower body. He’s carefully, stealthily coming closer. In his hand that’s resting at his side he holds a syringe, thumb ready to empty the liquid into Simon.

It’s most likely filled with a sedative and instinctively you throw your free arm out and over Simon’s neck protectively. He flinches at the sudden movement , driving his teeth deeper into your arm and you wince at the way the movement rips at your flesh. A new wave of pain crashes through you and you can’t hold back a slight groan. Nate steadily creeps closer and Simon’s eyes widen with growing awareness at what’s about to happen.

“No.” You try to command Nate but it comes out like more of a pained wheeze. Still he stops sedative at the ready.

Simon’s eyebrows furrow his eyes flickering between yours, confused. He does not yield his hold on your arm and you breathe deeply through the pain. You wish it would just stop hurting.

“I need to sedate him, he’s dangerous.” Nate says resolutely.

“No!” You manage a bit louder. It might be only a feeling that makes you stop him but if Simon gets sedated right now it will only make things worse. Sure it will save you from this moment but you won’t be able to process it and work through it. It will be just like Phillip. Well maybe not exactly like it since Simon’s isn’t mauling you right now. He’s only nibbling on you. You almost make yourself crack up into hysterical giggles with that thought. His teeth hurt just as much as Phillips did. They’re just as sharp. But they’re not moving.

Forcefully removing Simon from you won’t truly help, you’re sure of it. Simon will freak when he wakes back up and you’ll be left with this memory of him. Attacking you, biting you. Even though his fangs are still sunken into your flesh the old scar in your shoulder throbs and you feel like laughing. Maybe you’re slowly going crazy from the pain. It seems to be everywhere.

Your head hurts where it cracked against the floor but you concentrate on Simon’s shallow breath. The way he holds your arm in his teeth. He’s not actively biting deeper and you consciously relax your body under him. Maybe it’s abnormal the way you assess the situation, thinking it through instead of fighting the large hybrid. But you can’t help but be thankful for it.

“It’s okay, Simon.” You say gently and watch his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. His growling stutters and maybe you imagine it but a hint of a whine builds up in his throat. He’s aware of you. You’re not sure why he hasn’t let go yet, but you’re determined to get this under control. With your current pain level you can still talk and think so maybe there’s a way for you to do this right, to do right by him.

“I know. I should have known better than to rush towards you. I don’t like that either. Forgive me for scaring you.” You continue on just following your instinct. Simon’s face betrays his surprise.

He huffs through his nose and looks at you almost pleadingly. What he’s pleading for, you don’t know. The aggression is gone but the fear in his eyes hurts almost as much as his bite.

“I know. I know. You didn’t mean it.” You’re not even sure what you’re saying but you don’t stop talking to him. His saliva pools on your skin, hot and sticky, or maybe it’s just your blood.

When his breaths get quicker and you decide to be more daring. Speaking helps but it’s not enough. The sight of the large hybrid evidently distressed breaks your heart. He’s growing more distressed by the second.

You need to try something. Anything. Slowly you move the arm that you protectively threw around his neck until you can lower your hand onto the back of his head. Burying your fingers in his hair carefully. It’s just a gentle brush of your fingers through his hair but a sudden wail tears from his chest like you hit him.

Once again it sinks his teeth deeper into your arm and you grit your own teeth against the pain. This has to work. You don’t know what to do if it doesn’t work and the pain is slowly fraying your nerves.

“I know. Shhh. It’s okay. You didn’t mean to, did you? I just spooked you. Nothing bad is going to happen. I won’t let them sedate you. I’m here now, Simon. Like you asked. Like you wanted.”

Once again you card your fingers through his hair, only a whisper of a touch until you reach the base of his left ear. He howls like he’s being ripped apart. Your eyes fill with tears. Maybe you should stop. Are you actually hurting him? But he shouldn’t have a wound on the back of his head. Your touch shouldn’t hurt him.

His eyes are wide and frightful but his jaw slackened lightly. Not hurting him then. Good, you have to continue.

“You can let go, Simon. You’re safe. I’ll keep you safe. You’re okay. I won’t even look if you don’t want me to.” The things you say barely make sense but you can’t stop, not when the hold he has on your arm loosens some more until his teeth are merely resting against your bloody skin. You’re not delusional enough to think he won’t bite down again at the sign of any threat so you keep holding still under him.

The base of his ear is unbelievable soft under your fingers as you rub it and he pants harshly against your arm an entire war happening behind his eyes. Another broken whine raises in his throat and you smile up at him. It’s wobbly and not really all that convincing but a smile non the less.

“No one will look at you. I’ll make sure you’re safe. We’re okay. I promise. It’s okay. You can let go. Nothing will happen.”

You swallow down the pain and nerves addressing Nate. “Right? You won’t sedate him. It’s okay. He’s okay.”

You cannot see Nate's face from your position but he shuffles a few steps back, clearing his throat. “Yeah uhm. Sure?”

Simon’s eyes search yours and ever so slowly he widens his jaw, his wet and warm tongue laving over the bite mark once, his breath cool against the wet skin when he whimpers. Some of the tightness in your chest dissipates as the pain lessens just the tiniest bit.

“There you go. You’re doing so well, Simon. You can relax. Will you let me sit up?”

He takes in your expression, scanning your face for something and you patiently wait. Slowly he pulls his head back until your arm is safe from his teeth. Then he closes his mouth warily. You match his pace and as he slowly retreats from over you, you push yourself up, wincing when you put your weight on your arm.

Finally you’re sitting in front of him, cross legged and he watches you for a long moment. He’s subtly shaking and you attempt to smile at him again but all it does it make the tears spill over. Still you push through even if you can’t see his expression properly through the blur. Smiling almost hurts.

“Well done, Simon.”

The sight or the words make something snap and he lunges forward. You violently flinch, throwing your arms up again freezing when you suddenly have a lap full of malinois hybrid. His big arms are wrapped tightly around your middle and his face is pressed into your stomach while he half lays on you, his shaking growing stronger.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” He’s shivering so hard your entire body is rocking with it. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Your arms are still raised while he falls apart against you and you lower them slowly until you touch him. One hand presses on his back, which makes him in turn jump and bury his face harder against your stomach. The other hand finds his head again, petting him. He speaks through pained whimpers. “Forgive me. Sorry.”

You don’t know how long you sit there on the floor, your arm bleeding freely, soaking his shirt and your pants with your blood but at some point he stops shaking, stops apologizing through whimpers and simply holds onto you quietly. You don’t stop petting him through it all.

Nate is already looking at you when you look up at him. His eyes are wide, stressed and his tongue doesn’t stop tasting the air of the room. Your tears have run dry and your mouth curves up into a real smile.

“You’re insane.” He softly remarks into the quiet of the room but it doesn’t sound like an insult.

You blink at him slowly, protectively tightening your arms around Simon, drawing him in closer. He stiffens at that and then relaxes again. He’s awake, just not speaking anymore.

“Can you bring me something for my wounds?” You ask Nate and he looks at you long and hard in disapproval.

“You should go see a medical professional about it.” He advises and Simon curls more tightly around you his arms pressing him closer until his hold is almost painful. A second later he starts to extract himself from you, like he realizes what he just did but you hold him tight and he goes lax in your lap again.

“I’ll take care of the worst myself. I’ll see someone about it later.”

Nate shakes his head. “I don’t want to leave you alone with him not when…”

“I’m fine. You’ll be quick, right?” You interrupt gently. He nods but seems unconvinced. “Go Nate, or do you want me to lose more blood?” You ask with an almost teasing tone and he shakes his head again but begins moving.

“You’re insane.” He repeats and then he’s gone.

Your back starts cramping from sitting in your position for so long. Tenderly you stoke Simon’s hair. “Hey, big guy. Do you think we can move to the wall? Sitting like this is a little straining.”

He loosens his grip and it’s entirely ridiculous how you two scoot over the floor without changing the position you’re in until your back rests against the wall. You sigh with relief, relaxing some and your back stops screaming. That only making the uncomfortable pulsing of the wound in your arm more prominent.

Thank god that you have all the vaccines for dog hybrid bites. Courtesy of working with them and having been bitten not too long ago. Simon raises his head and you hold your breath. Somehow you expected him to cry but there’s no sign of it on his face. It’s dry and expressionless. He looks at your face, then your arm and slowly sits back up, examining it.

That’s how Nate finds you. He’s wary as he steps closer eying Simon like he’ll attack him any second and extends his hand with the little first aid kit towards you. You take it. Before you go to open it, Simon’s hand covers yours and you recoil like he bit you again, looking at him in shock.

His face is unreadable. “Let me?” He says it like a question and you nod mutely, watching him as his big hands open the kit and he gets started on cleaning the wounds.

Your heart jumps at every touch even though his movements are slow and steady. His big hands are surprisingly gentle as he takes care of the bite mark he put on you with practiced ease. Looking to Nate in bewilderment you catch him with his sight locked on Simon attentively. His tongue darts out every now and then but decidedly less hectic than before.

When he catches your stare he presses his lips together and you notice he’s still holding the syringe. Quietly you look at his face and then pointedly at the sedative and shake your head. He sighs audibly and Simon tenses again, like he’s bracing for something, even though he seems concentrated on wrapping your wounds.

You relax some more when Nate caps the needle. Simon raises your arm inspecting the stark white wrapping and the lets go, scooting back a bit and out of your personal space. Once again you’re locked into a staring match. Nate silently watches you two.

Soon enough the silence gets unbearable, uncomfortable and finally you need to say something, anything or you’ll implode.

“Hi.”

Simon’s expression settles back into a frown. Not in a talking mood it seems. Somehow that makes you grin. It brings you back to when he first woke up in the hospital.

“I just arrived. I wanted to see you as soon as possible and Nate was kind enough to take me to you.”

You give Nate a blinding smile and the snake hybrid shakes his head again. “You’re either insane or a saint.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment. Anyway, Simon, are you ready to move into our rooms with me? We have two rooms next to each other.” You offer and Nate takes half a step forward. Simon tracks the other hybrids movements out of the corners of his eyes.

“Now hold on. That’s nice and all but not happening. At least not today. I have to report the biting. If this was just about your relationship I wouldn’t object but we can’t move Simon into a populated wing if we don’t know for sure he won’t be a danger to everyone.”

You can’t exactly argue with that, even if you’d like to. It makes sense and you just arrived. Maybe you missed something about Simon’s behavior that could be a threat. Even if you don’t think he is. He is pretty much exactly as you remember him. Although you have to admit to yourself that there’s some lingering fear at being in Simon’s presence, that wasn’t there before. You push it back down.

His attack was maybe a bit extreme but once again not the actions of a savage. If your judgement isn’t completely off, then it was simply an instinctive reaction to feeling threatened.

“Alright, I understand. Then…” You look around the barely furnished room. It reminds you a lot of ‘the cell’ at Rehybrid except it has an actual bed, a desk and chair and a door that leads to what you’d assume is a bathroom. Although the bare furniture is bolted into place as you notice.

“Simon.” You address the hybrid and his ears twitch in your direction. “Would you like me to stay the night here or go back to my room and come back tomorrow?”

You can see Nate open his mouth and level him with a flat stare which makes him promptly snap it shut. Simon cocks his head at you.

“He has a medical examination really early tomorrow, it’s more convenient if you…” Nate starts after all but Simon’s sudden and vicious growl makes him shut up.

You jerk around to look at the malinois hybrid. His expression is all threat again and aimed at Nate, his ears drawn back and fear clogs your throat. Maybe he is more aggressive than you thought. Maybe you’re a stupid softy and shouldn’t trust your judgement too much.

But except for the earlier attack he was relatively docile up to now. And his aggression isn’t aimed at you which makes it easier to judge with a level head.

Something isn’t right. He wouldn’t react like that for no reason.

“As his handler, I’d like to be present for that.” You state and Simon’s head whips back around to you his growl dying down his ears perking back up.

Nate sighs and drags his hands over his face. “Alright.” He glances between you and Simon and his face relaxes. “It’s getting late and I just want to go to bed. I’m getting irritated at all this because I’m so tired so stay or go back to your room but I need to sleep soon or I’ll pass out on you two or get mad and I don’t want that.”

You search his face and suddenly it hits you how obviously exhausted Nate looks. With everything that happened you didn’t pay any close attention to him. Sheepishly you look down and then at Simon again. It’s his call to make so you await his answer.

You two lock eyes for what feels like an eternity and finally you get to hear his rumbled reply.

“Stay.”

You nod your heart suddenly speeding up again but it’s not fear this time and you address Nate. “I’m staying here. Don’t worry about my stuff, I’ll take care of it tomorrow. Just go to bed Nate. I’ll be fine.”

The snake hybrid clearly has more on his mind but he doesn’t voice any of it, studying Simon and you who are still on the ground. A big yawn makes him finally leave for good but not before giving you his number so you can call in case anything happens.

The door clicks shut behind him and you’re alone with Simon.

Well, that was some reunion. You sigh deeply and let your body relax. Now that it’s just you two some of your nervousness returns and you have to remind yourself that Simon apologized for attacking you earlier. He also bandaged your wounds for you and had a breakdown in your lap so the chances of him attacking you to prove something are slim to none.

You’re glad you stopped Nate from sedating him. But even if everything went well in the end it doesn’t mean that your wounds aren’t rubbed raw. Now you try to hold all the ugly feelings that try to resurface down with rationality.

“Will you tell me what the growling was for when Nate mentioned tomorrow? What happened? Why did I get requested?” You find yourself asking. Skirting around the topic isn’t your thing and you need to know if you want a chance to do your job well.

Simon clears his throat and finally you can look him over calmly and actually take note of how his wounds look. The cuts on his face are mostly healed, leaving thin pink scars behind some still have a bit of crusting. You can’t exactly see the other wounds right now but his fingers aren’t in a cast anymore. Now they’re only taped together in a way that prevents him from using them too much and separately from each other.

“I trust you.” Simon says and that simple sentence slams into you like a sledgehammer. It makes you swallow against your tight throat and you blink a few times.

“What happened?” You ask again after collecting yourself and he huffs.

“Nothing.”

You raise one eyebrow unimpressed. “Oh really. Nothing has your hackles raised like that?”

He bares his teeth in frustration, gritting them and the sight has you leaning away from him slightly. He notices and lowers his lips looking at the floor.

“Nothing that warrants a reaction like mine.” He continues and you hum.

When he doesn’t go on further you gently encourage: “Listen Simon. I’m here for you. I came here to help you to be on your team. But if you want me to be able to do that you have to explain things to me so I know how to protect you best.”

He barks an unamused harsh laugh at that and you watch him as he stops and crumbles into himself, quieting down. “I should not need protection. I’m a soldier.”

Slowly, carefully you inch closer to his seated form. “I’m not talking about your strength. You’ve been MIA for months Simon. Whatever happened, you’re allowed to be affected by it. You’re allowed to be hurt and need help. It doesn’t make you weak or any less of a soldier to need help getting back on your feet. But I won’t know how to do that if you don’t speak to me.”

He looks back up and something in his face softens. He nervously licks his lips and begins forcing out words. “I was cuffed for the transport. As soon as I was here they wanted to do a medical exam. I was overwhelmed. I refused. They sedated me. But I was awake, I guess it only sedated my body not my mind. I was unable to move as they poked and prodded me, examined me. No one talked to me.” He shudders.

His explanation is short but it chokes you up and makes you clench your fist in anger at the same time. These fools. Fucking idiots and assholes. You start shaking and Simon looks at you concerned, notices your unshed tears and shakes his head.

“I don’t want your pity.” He almost snarls and if you weren’t so angry you’d flinch but your rage overshadows any other emotion, fills you to your fingertips until you don’t know where to put it anymore.

“I’m not pitying you.” You bite out and then breathe deeply to calm down. No need to raise your voice at him. “I’m angry.”

Simon jerks back, away from you and you quickly go on. “Angry at them! Your reaction is completely justified. I.... fuck I’m so mad I want to punch someone.”

That gets an actual laugh out of Simon and it startles you right out of your angry state. Genuine amusement dances in his light brown eyes and you can’t help but smile back. He has a nice laugh. It’s rough and very him.

“Do you even know how to throw a proper punch?” He teases and you lift your chin in mock offense.

“Of course I do.” You say your head held high. Simon chuckles warmly at that and you can’t help but grin at him. Some of the earlier heaviness finally lifting from the room.

A comfortable quiet settles over you two after that. The amusement lingers for a moment.

“I’m coming with you tomorrow. Just give me a sign if you’re uncomfortable. I’ll make sure they take it slow. I won’t let them touch you without your permission.” You say. It’s a promise.

“I didn’t mean to bite you.” Another hidden apology.

You look down at your neatly wrapped arm. It makes sense for him to be able to do basic first aid but you’re still surprised at how well and quick he did it. You shrug, your hand gently stroking over the bandages.

“I know that now. It’s not like it’s the first time either. I’ve had worse.”

A small growl builds in his chest but this time you manage to keep the fear back. It’s just a reaction to what you said. Not you. “What do you mean you’ve had worse?”

Instinctively your hand comes up to your shoulder pressing against the permanently scarred skin. Somehow that’s the scar you always go for as if it’s the only one Phillip left on you.

“Nothing important. You’re just not the first hybrid who bit me.” You try to keep it vague and you can see his eyes narrow but he doesn’t push. You’re not sure whether you’re relieved or disappointed.

Pointedly you look around the room taking in the little furniture. A small smirk settles on your lips as you look at Simon. “There is only one bed.”

Immediately a louder growl starts up in his chest and your smile vanishes. Okay that is definitely aimed at you and fear sinks it’s claws into your neck. “Hey, hey. I was only teasing. I will sleep on the floor. Don’t worry.”

He swallows down the threatening noise and looks to the side almost like he’s embarrassed by his own reaction. “No. You can have the bed.”

You shake your head and scoff. “Yeah right. I’ll take the bed when you’re the one still healing.”

His eyebrows furrow and you realize that that seems to be the expression he wears most of the time. He licks his lips his ears flickering up and down as if he doesn’t know what to express.

“We could share.” He says it so self assured you wouldn’t think he’s nervous about it if it wasn’t for his ears and his earlier growl.

“Only if you’re comfortable.” Your voice leaves no room for arguments.

He’s quiet for a long time mulling it over, frowning at the bed, and you almost tell him that you’ll sleep on the floor either way. When you open your mouth he grits out: “Don’t touch me.”

His tone is aggressive and not even a real answer but you simply nod. “I won’t. We can build a barrier out of the blanket, that way I can’t accidentally knock into you in the night. But only if you want that. I have no problem with sleeping on the floor.”

He doesn’t answer but he gets up and tugs the blanket off the bed. Silently he waits next to it and you guess that’s your sign to get in and sleep next to the wall. You’re not sure how you feel about the prospect of being caged between Simon’s large form and the wall but that’s probably the reason why Simon won’t slip in first.

You take off your shoes and crawl onto the mattress. The bed is obviously not meant for two so you press as close to the wall as you can. Simon puts one knee on the bed and then proceeds to spread the blanket over you in a surprisingly gentle gesture. Then he piles the rest next to you so it acts as a barrier.

For a moment he just looks at his work, then he grumbles something to himself, turns down the lights and gets in next to you. You note that he doesn’t turn the light off completely but that’s just fine by you. You prefer being able to see him and his intentions.

The quiet is tense but you don’t know what to say anymore so you just lay there staring at the ceiling and wait for sleep to claim you. It doesn’t help that your inner clock thinks it’s early evening.

Finally you can’t keep laying still like that and turn onto your side, craning your neck to look at Simon’s profile over the blanket barrier he build. His eyes are closed but you’re pretty sure he’s not asleep. His chest raises and falls too quickly for that and you watch the rhythm for a moment until it registers that he gave you the blanket.

“I’m not cold. You can have the blanket.” You whisper in case you’re wrong and he is asleep after all.

His eyes open and he keeps them on the ceiling. “Don’t need it. I run hot.”

You nod to yourself and tuck your knees in close so you don’t accidentally brush against him. Head relaxing back against the pillow so you’re left staring at the blanket. It takes forever but finally you do succumb to sleep.

You wake in the middle of the night with a gasp, sitting upright. You’re glad the light is on so you can see everything and your hand finds your painfully throbbing shoulder. It seems to have it’s own heartbeat and it’s beating in tandem with the new bite wound on your arm.

Guilty you look down at Simon’s stretched out form to find his golden eyes already fixed on you. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

He shakes his head and continues to watch as you press your hand to your chest and do your breathing exercise to calm back down. You don’t like that he sees you like this. Not when he signed for you to be his handler. You’re supposed to be his rock and have authority. Can he even take you serious when he gets to see you struggle like this?

Nothing on his face gives away what he thinks as you slowly find back to your own body. You check the barrier between you two and find it intact. You can’t help the sigh of relief that you let out at that and you catch the slightest movement of Simon’s ears.

Happy to escape his scrutinizing gaze you lay back down and once again you’re left staring at the blankets. How you wish you could reach out and touch him, reassure yourself and him but he asked you not to so you tuck your hands in close to your chest and close your eyes.

Movement of the fabric has you opening them again. You turn your head and see Simon peek over the barrier. He offers no comment but carefully arranges the blanket back over your body. In your panicked state you had thrown it off you. Again without so much as brushing his fingers against you. Once he’s satisfied that you’re covered properly he lays back down and you find yourself snuggling more into the blanket, pressing just the tiniest bit closer to the barrier. If you concentrate enough you can imagine that his warmth seeps through the thick fabric and settles around you.

You wake in the morning to a strange pressure against your front. It’s comforting but confusing because the blanket barrier shouldn’t be this unyielding. Your open eyes and don’t see anything besides the pristine white of the cover for a moment until your realize that you can see Simon’s shoulder rise and fall mere centimeters from you.

Now you’re wide awake, your breath hitching. The blanket is still firmly in place between the two of you and no part of you touches but Simon is curled up on his side too, pressed against the blanket just like you and although it separates you two you can feel his chest rising and falling against it. You can feel his legs against yours through it and for a second you think about getting up and putting as much distance between you and his sleeping form as possible.

A moment later you almost laugh at yourself while heat spreads through your cheeks. You crane your neck trying to see if Simon’s head peeks over the top of the barrier. It does.

Your eyes lock and you exhale on a rush. He’s awake.

Neither of you move and you can hear you blood rushing in your ears at his proximity. You’re sure if it weren’t for the thick cover between you you’d die of a heart attack. How his closeness can be stifling and comforting at once is a mystery to you but you don’t move either. Maybe it’s because you’re frozen in fear.

But the beat of your heart doesn’t spell out fear.

“Good morning.” You whisper. Instead of an answer the pressure against your front increases for a moment, then he rolls away from you and sits up, rubbing his palms over his tired face.

You find yourself doing the same and checking the time. It’s ridiculous how early you woke up but Simon’s already on his feet, tension in the harsh lines of his body and stretches for a moment his ears pressing flat against his head at his big yawn and you can’t help but smile. Definitely cute despite his size.

He catches your expression and seems confused. Instead of offering an explanation you fondly shake your head and get up too. Both of you silently wash up in the bathroom. It’s comfortable and you find only the faintest traces of yesterdays fear left in you. Somehow Simon manages to put you at ease, despite his attack.

It’s not long before Nate appears. He opens the door slowly and peeks inside. Once he sees you the relief is visible on his face and he steps in fully.

“Thank god, I was worried I’d find you in shreds.”

The way he says it so earnestly makes you giggle and Simon’s almost always present frown deepens. “It’s time for Simon to go to the doctor’s.”

Simon’s entire demeanor changes and he backs up against a corner. His lips peel back and Nate’s expression turns sad.

He opens the door wider and two more men step in. Apparently they also work at the center. One holds a muzzle the other one a collar and a leash and Nate once again has a sedative in hand. Your eyes widen and you step in front of Simon, very aware of him snarling behind you. Putting yourself between him and the men is probably stupid especially since you can’t see what he’ll do next but you can’t have them adding to his stress.

You raise your hands placatingly. “Gentlemen, please. This is hardly necessary.”

One of the guys scoffs. “Tell that to him. He’s not allowed out of this room without leash and muzzle but he won’t put it on. There is no other way. I sure as hell won’t suffer another attack from him. And we don’t have the time for discussions.”

Now it’s your turn to frown almost scowling at them. “Surely you can spare a few more minutes if it’s for the sake of one of the hybrids who’s supposed to heal here?” You say, some venom seeping into your tone.

You’re aware that you’re new here and hardly endearing yourself to your presumed co-workers but you’re here for Simon. Not for them. They roll their eyes but stay back and you mull over your options.

“Leave the leash and muzzle here and out. All of you.” You say in a commanding voice that you’re pretty sure you have no right to wield. Yet they listen and you catch Nate taste the air and nod at you a slight smile on his lips.

When the door closes you turn on your heels and meet Simon’s angry expression.

“You don’t want the leash and muzzle?” You question, voice soft once again.

He shakes his head his canines still exposed and you remember how they ripped at your flesh. The phantom pain shoots through your entire body this time and you square your shoulders. It’s time to be his handler. You don’t have the luxury of wallowing in self pity.

“I’m afraid there is no way around it at this point in time.” He straightens up further and his growl redoubles.

You raise your hands. “Simon listen to me.” He’s staring through you, he’s probably not really listening, trapped somewhere in his racing thoughts so you raise your voice slightly. “Simon!”

He starts, his ears coming forward for a moment before he goes back to his aggressive stance.

“I do not want them to hurt you. But I need you to let the doctor check up on you. I promise I will not let anything bad happen. I promise I will protect you. But if you want anything to go differently than before you’ll have to take the muzzle and leash.” You explain. You hate that there is no other way. You just arrived, you have no idea how necessary the check up is and you can’t refuse on his behalf when you don’t know whether he’s healed enough.

He considers you, hatred in his eyes and you try not to let it burn you. It’s such a heavy contrast to the way he looked at you earlier when he peeked at your over the cover. It’s such a difference to when you’re alone in a safe little bubble you two get to design by yourselves.

You exhale heavily and take the leash and muzzle in hand before turning back to Simon. He eyes the two devices like they’re meant to torture him.

You hold up the muzzle, showing it to him and he physically steps back. Instead of going after him, you open the muzzle at the back. “Look. This is how you get it open. It’s designed so you can take it off yourself. No one can force you to keep it on. It’s meant as a helpful device to keep you from hurting others in a stressful moment because often the biting happens on instinct and hybrids regret it afterwards.”

His eyes flicker down to your bandaged arm and then fixate back on the muzzle.

“I won’t even need to touch you to put it on. You can do it yourself.” You continue in the softest voice you can muster. Then you show him the leash. He doesn’t retreat further but the fire in his eyes burns even brighter.

You show him how the collar can be opened and closed. “You can also put this on yourself. I will not let anyone else hold the leash.”

It’s kind of pointless, you know he doesn’t want you to hold the leash just as much as he doesn’t want the men in front of the door to hold it. But at least you’ll hold it softly.

You hold the leather leash up. “I will not yank on it or choke you with it. I will only hold it so we’re connected and I can keep you from getting hurt. I will lead you with a gentle hand and never towards harm.”

Silence falls over the room and you realize that he stopped growling during your explanation. You said what you could, now it is up to him. You can feel your pulse thrum in your neck a silent plea. Please trust me. Let me lead you. Let me show you it can be different than what you experienced so far.

You offer it all to him in your outstretched hands and wait. There is nothing else you can do besides ask him to comply. Sure you’re the authority but only if Simon wants you to be. You hope he remembers that he signed the handler-hybrid papers first. You hope he remembers that he said he trusts you.

His legs carry him towards you and your breath hitches. There’s sweat on his forehead and you stay still as a statue while he takes the muzzle. Carefully he opens and closes the latch a few times, making sure it’s easy to operate. Then he slips it over his face locks and unlocks it at least five more times before he fastens it. His chest heaves with harsh pants as he takes the leash from your hands next and you lower them slowly so you don’t spook him.

Once again he tests the buckle and then fastens the collar around his neck. You notice that he left plenty of room which is technically not how he’s supposed to wear it but you decide not to address it.

His eyes find you but they’re slightly unfocused and you speak to him again. “Well done, Simon. Thank you.”

He jerks back at your words his eyes wide and his panting stops. You’re not sure whether it’s the praise or the fact you expressed gratitude but you leave it at that.

Slowly you hold out your hand, waiting for him to place the leash in your hold instead of taking it up yourself. It looks comically thin in his large palm as he grabs the end and clenches his fist around it. Patiently you wait giving him what you hope is a reassuring smile.

Tensing up even more he places the end in your hand and plants his feet as if he expects you to jerk him forward. Loosely you curl your own fist around the leather and let your arm rest relaxed against your side. The grin you gift him with feels silly with how bright it is but you’re incredibly proud of the big hybrid.

“Follow me.” You softly command testing how he’ll react to you expecting him to follow your words without making it a request. To your surprise he easily falls into step, walking towards the door and waits patiently when you open it.

You stay in front of him and address the men in the corridor who stare at the both of you like you suddenly grew multiple heads. “Do not touch him and stay in front of us, leading the way.”

Nate recovers first, grinning widely and in his slightly reptilian face it looks almost evil. “I knew it.” He hisses delighted and turns to lead the way, the two other guys following behind not even arguing with you at this point.

Simon walks behind you and you turn to him without halting your footsteps. “Come here. Next to me.”

His long legs eat the distance and he walks along beside you, the leash hanging loosely between you. Simon’s face is set into a frown and there’s still sweat beading at his hairline but his breathing is at a frequency that doesn’t worry you and you hum in satisfaction. The ear closest to you swivels towards the sound for a second.

It doesn’t take long until you’re in the doctors office and it makes you feel slightly ridiculous that you have two grown men in addition to Nate accompany you. The doctor gapes at you and Simon, eyes comically wide while looking between you two and the way the large hybrid follows your lead.

She stands up gives you a curt hello and snaps on latex gloves. “Let’s get this over with.”

You frown at her tone and as soon as she stands up Simon starts growling, like a ferocious beast, backing up a bit. The doctor sighs and nods at the men who accompanied you. “Sedate him.”

You straighten up. “Don’t!” You command. The men look between you and the doctor unsure who to listen to. Narrowing you eyes you take a small step in front of Simon. “There is no need to sedate him.”

She clicks her tongue at you and rests her weight on one leg, pushing out her hip. “You’re his new handler? You arrived when? Yesterday? I know how to treat my patients now step aside and let us do our damn job.”

Her tone almost makes you want to cower, not one for confrontation, but you remind yourself why you’re here. “I do not mean to disrespect but I brought him here of his own free will without any need for sedation so I’d really appreciate it if we could work together to make sure my charge is comfortable during the examination.”

She almost scoffs at you and takes a step closer, Simon flinches and you hold out your hand, stopping her from taking another step. Way to go. It’s your first day and you’re already pissing of personnel you’re supposed to work with. But you cannot let it slide, not with the way Simon reacts. After what he told you, you’re certain that there is a reason for it.

“You’re the one who isn’t working with me. So step aside and let me do my job. A job you know nothing about.” Her tone is sharp, biting and it makes your hand itch to slap the arrogance out of her.

You square your shoulders and gather all the leftover confidence you can find in your body. “No. Not when my charge is uncomfortable. Are there any other doctors at this center or do we have to find one who doesn’t work here?” You calmly answer and her mouth drops open.

Something flashes in her eyes and before she can respond Nate steps forward placatingly lifting his hands. “Hey now. It’s a perfectly reasonable and normal request. Yes there are other doctors. We’ll ask for someone else.”

The Doctor grits her teeth in displeasure but doesn’t argue against Nate and you raise your brows. Interesting. Nate seems to be in a position of authority. Breed wise he’d be supposed to be a companion hybrid. But he evidently works here and holds a higher position than some humans.

His hand finds your shoulder and squeezes briefly. Then he escorts the doctor out of the room, telling you he’ll be back soon with someone else.

The door closes behind the two of them and you’re left with Simon and the other two guys. You exhale heavily, your shoulders dropping and turn to Simon. His shirt is soaked with sweat on his chest but now that the doctor left he seems to slowly come back to himself.

Honey coloured eyes regard you as you ask him if he’s okay. The nod is slow but enough to reassure you and you don’t have to wait for long until the door opens again and Nate steps in with a middle-aged man. His hair is black and brushed back, some stray grays at his temples but his face is so kind it immediately puts you at ease.

“Welcome. You must be his new handler. I’m glad you could make it. Please take a seat. I’m Doctor Graham.”

You stay on your feet but give him a friendly smile and a nod. Mentally you pat your back for standing your ground because Simon’s staying quiet, seemingly not as stressed by him. “Yes. I’m happy I can be here. What’s the plan for today's exam?”

At that word Simon shifts on his feet. You wish you could put a reassuring hand on his shoulder but he doesn’t want you to touch him, so you don’t.

“I need to check his wounds for inflammation and their status of healing.”

You nod and the doctor gestures at the examination table. You look at Simon and try to seem as reassuring as possible. “Go on, sit down.”

It surprises you anew when he listens and parks himself on the table. The doctor blinks owlishly at the scene and something akin to gratification spreads in your chest. Look at this, look at what a well behaved hybrid he is and look how wrong you all judged him, you think grimly.

“Please take your shirt off, Simon.” The doc asks and to your surprise Simon looks at you his head slightly tilted.

The weight of his questioning gaze almost makes you crumble to your knees. It’s like he’s testing you. You think back to the hospital. How distressed showing skin made him and you look at Nate and the other two men in the room.

“Doctor Graham, I apologize for the trouble but could you be so kind as to send our audience away. I do not think it is necessary to let them witness the examination.”

The Doc startles in surprise looks around the room and then does as you say. Finally it’s just the three of you and you nod at Simon. “Can you take it off?”

He swallows audibly and slowly his hands go to the hem of his shirt. The hesitation makes you nervous and you wish you could prevent him from having to do this. Before he begins undressing you turn to the Doctor again.

“I’m sorry but is there another way we can do this? I’d like to keep him from harm. Is there a way for this to work without us watching him?” You pray the doctor won’t brush you off. Hopefully your continuous questions and wishes don’t annoy him.

He smiles, crow feet growing more prominent around his eyes and he thinks. Simon’s frozen with his hands on his shirt. It doesn’t look like you’re making an enemy here so you continue.

“If the wounds have been okay up to now maybe he could check them following your instructions without us watching and he can tell you what you need to know?”

Both the Doctor and Simon’s gaze weigh on you and you wish you could shrivel up and disappear but you promised Simon to protect him and you intend to follow through with it.

Doctor Graham looks over a file, scanning the information. You hold your breath and then the older man nods slowly. “Yes, that could work. But he’d have to speak to me for that.”

“Simon?”

His nostrils flare and he nods. “Yes.”

Once again the doctors blanks, then he seems to remember where he is and turns around with his chair. You step closer to Simon and let go of the leash. “I’ll be right here. Just do as the Doc says. No one will look at you.” You quietly instruct well aware that the Doctor can hear you anyway in the dead silent room.

You turn around and the sound of fabric rustling makes you clench your fist. You watch the doctor look at a chart. “Do you have any wounds that feel tender or hot?”

“No.”

He nods and writes something down then he proceeds to lead Simon through the process of checking every wound even instructing him how to check his ribs and fingers. Somehow they manage with Simon’s one word answers and you find yourself slowly relaxing.

Doctor Graham is professional but warm and it makes you feel like crying. It’s absurd how kindness makes your eyes wet but the female doctors harshness didn’t. Once Simon is dressed again you turn back around and give him an approving nod.

Doctor Graham looks up. “I need to rewrap your fingers, Simon.” He calmly states. You expect Simon to grow agitated but he simply nods, holding out his fingers.

The process makes him flinch whenever the doctor touches him but it barely takes a minute until it’s done. Expectantly you hold out the hand for Simon’s leash again and he drops the end into your palm so you can grab it again. You wait for the Doctors dismissal, instead he kindly smiles at you and points at the examination table.

“Your turn. Let me take a look at your arm.”

Bewildered you look at your neatly wrapped arm, having completely forgotten about it. Something about that makes you laugh quietly and you let go of Simon’s leash again. The big hybrid parks himself against a wall and watches as the Doctor unwraps your arm.

The bite looks angry, the wounds deceptively small but the skin and flesh are black and blue, bruised all over and tender to the touch. You can feel Simon’s eyes on the wound like a physical touch while the practiced hands of the doctor check the wound, put some ointment on it and rewrap it.

It’s honestly not surprising when he tells you that your bones probably took some damage too, although not enough to break and that you should take it easy on that arm for a while.

Finally you’re all done and Simon comes up to you, handing you the leash. Before you go, you address the Doctor once more. “Thank you so much for being so accommodating, doctor. And I’m sorry if I caused any trouble by asking for you.” You don’t know how to explain further without going on a tangent but his lips quirk up and he nods.

“It’s not a problem. We’re here to help. And please, just call me Graham without the doctor. We’re coworkers now.” His hand is warm as it engulfs yours when you say goodbye.

Nate is still waiting outside and before you know it you’re back in Simon’s little room. You let go of the leash and beam up at him. “You did so well Simon. I’m really proud of you.”

Before you can add anything he’s already ripped the muzzle off his head and unbuckled the collar letting it all drop to the floor. He takes a few steps back and shudders. You watch him concerned but he seems to calm down soon enough and once Nate deems it safe he turns to you.

“The handler management wants to talk to you. I reported the attack and initially they wanted to keep him locked up here but I took the liberties of telling them about this morning too and they want to talk to you before making their decision. We can’t keep him here forever and expect him to make any progress.”

#the sewer writes #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #gn!reader #hybrid au #malinois hybrid simon #dog!hybrid simon #hybrid!simon x handler!reader #hybrid x handler

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opiopal · 19 hours ago

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(Posting a draft from like, a month ago cause I completely forgot about this draft)

This came to me in a vision this morning,

imagine mams and mc hanging out, their relationship has been established FOREVER AGO. and he does that dumb stretch thing where his arm wraps around mc’s shoulder and he goes “sooo… you got a boyfriend?”

Mc pauses and stares at him confused for a second, he IS their boyfriend what is he-… ohhh.

they giggle and decide to entertain him,

“mhm, he’s the greatest,”

“Aw man, do you like em?”

“of course I do,”

“Damn. how much?

“more than I could describe,”

They go back and forth like this for a while, it doesn’t take long before Mc realizes this may just be his way of getting complimented while also making them laugh, so at some point decide to mess with him,

“well, sometimes I don’t want him to be my boyfriend”

“haha yea- what”

He looks a bit panicked for a second as he turns his head to look at them, his voice dropping a bit as his face resembles that of a kicked dog,

“..really?”

“mhm, but that’s only when I wish he was my husband,”

”wh-… heEEYYY.”

he whines as he pulls them into a hug, his face flushing red as mc starts to giggling and wrap their arms around his torso,

“Excuse me sir, I feel like it was already established that I’m in a relationship,”

“yeah well forget about em.”

“hm, alright, if you want,”

And they lean their head up to start quickly peppering his face with kisses, which gets him to start giggling as well,

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me mammon x mc #obey me mc x mammon #i love domestic crap #I love them actually #They cute cute #And he’s a nerd nerd

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aubvrns · 2 days ago

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just on time, sweetheart

| wanda maximoff x reader

Synopsis - You were running late because you missed your alarm. Who knew that a simple mishap could be met with connections from the past?

Note - i’m happy so lemme hurt you a bit #sadist

You weren't the type of student to be irresponsible.

You just happened to miss the aggravating sound of your alarm. It was just one of those mornings where your blanket feels much softer than it was when you slept. You bolted through the university halls, your bag bouncing against your back as you struggled to catch your breath. Your alarm betrayed you, and now sprinting to your second period, a strict voice cuts the uncomfortable silence.

"You're late, Miss Y/L/N."

You cursed under your breath and turned around, facing the disapproving gaze of Professor Fury. You had no excuses, not really. No one would believe that your alarm clock had miraculously decided to rebel against you this morning.

"Guidance office," The professor ordered, tapping his pen against his clipboard.

You groaned inwardly. Just great, you thought.

You turned on your heels and dragged yourself towards the guidance office, mood already sour. The last thing you needed was another lecture about punctuality and responsibility. As you pushed the heavy door open, you barely glanced at the person seated inside—until your gaze locked onto a pair of all-too-familiar green eyes.

Wanda Maximoff.

Your breath hitched, like you forgot how to breath. You heart slammed against your ribs, and for a moment, you wondered if the universe was playing some kind of cruel joke on you. The girl who had once whispered forever into her skin.

The girl who had shattered you. The girl who was now sitting right across from you, looking just as stunned.

A beat of silence stretched between them—thick, heavy, suffocating.

Then, the Dean cleared his throat. "Miss Y/L/N, since you have time to be late, you have time to be useful. Our new transfer student, Miss Maximoff, needs a tour of the campus. You’ll be her guide for the day."

Your blood ran cold.

The Dean continued, oblivious to the storm brewing between you two. "You'll show her around, make sure she knows where everything is. Understood?"

You forced herself to nod. Words were a foreign concept right now, especially when Wanda’s gaze was still piercing into her, unblinking, unreadable.

The Dean dismissed himself, and before you could think of an excuse, you found yourself stepping out into the hallway with Wanda right beside you. The silence stretched, clinging like ghosts.

Finally, Wanda spoke. "You look different."

You let out a humorless chuckle. "To you, maybe."

Wanda flinched, just barely, but you caught it. And for the first time in years, you felt something close to satisfaction.

It was going to be a long day.

The tour was hell.

Every hallway, every classroom—they all held the weight of things left unsaid, of a past neither of them had completely buried. You led Wanda through the university, pointing out the library, the gym, the best place to get coffee. You kept your words clipped, distant, careful.

You didn’t want to remember. But memories had a funny way of creeping in, uninvited.

"Do you still drink too much coffee?" Wanda asked suddenly, her voice softer than before.

You clenched your jaw. "Some things never change."

A flicker of something crossed Wanda’s face— regret? Guilt? You weren’t sure, and you didn’t care to find out.

"You were always late in high school too," Wanda mused. "I used to wake you up."

You swallowed hard. "Well, you’re not here to do that anymore, are you?"

The redhead didn’t respond, but you felt her gaze linger. It was the same way she used to look at you—like she saw through the walls you tried to build. Like she still remembered.

You hated it. Because you remembered too.

The remembrance of Wanda’s laughter in the morning, the way she used to tug you closer under the covers, whispering nonsense just to make you smile. You remembered Wanda’s hands, warm and certain, tracing constellations on your skin. You remembered the way Wanda had said, “I love you,” like it was a promise.

A promise that she had broken.

You clenched your fists, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. You wouldn't give Wanda the satisfaction of knowing you still cared.

You didn't.

Not anymore.

The tour ended at the courtyard, beneath the massive oak tree where students gathered between classes. It was the kind of place that should’ve been peaceful. But with Wanda beside you, the air felt suffocating.

"You don’t have to act like this, you know," Wanda said finally, her voice quiet.

You exhaled sharply. "Like what?"

"Like I never meant anything to you."

You turned to face her, something sharp curling in your chest. "You broke up with me, Wanda. You fell for someone else. What exactly do you expect from me?"

Wanda flinched, and you hated that she still cared enough to notice.

"Vision wasn’t—" Wanda hesitated, then sighed. "I thought you never took us seriously.”

"You thought wrong."

The words came out colder than you intended, but you didn’t regret them. Wanda searched your face, your expression unreadable. "I’m sorry."

You almost laughed. "You don’t get to be sorry." And just like that, the dam inside her cracked just a little.

Because the truth was, you had stayed. You had waited, you had hoped. You had watched as Wanda chose someone else, as if everything meant nothing. And now, she was supposed to pretend like everything was fine? Like the past didn’t still dig its claws into your heart?

You wouldn’t give Wanda the satisfaction. So instead, you turned on her heels and walked away. You walked furiously, each step slowly detaching yourself from the past

“Y/N, please.”

You didn’t look back. You refused to let yourself be vulnerable again.

But you knew Wanda’s was on your back, lingering like a wound that had never truly healed. Like an echo of something that still, somehow, refused to fade.

The wind was colder than usual, sending a shiver down your spine as you hurried across campus. The weight of Wanda’s gaze still lingered on you like a phantom touch, unwelcome and yet impossible to ignore.

You had thought you were over this. Over her.

You had spent years convincing herself that the past was just that—the past. But the second you saw Wanda sitting in that office, looking at her like she wasn’t a shattered remnant of what they once were, something inside her cracked. Not Wanda looking at her like she regretted it. Like she missed her.

You shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. You weren’t going to do this. You weren’t going to let Wanda drag you back into a storm you barely survived the first time.

As you reached the hallway towards your locker, you heard your name.

"Y/N."

An all-too familiar voice called you. You clenched your jaw before turning, already knowing who you’d see.

Wanda stood a few feet away, arms crossed, shifting on her feet like she was hesitating. You arched a brow. "What do you want?"

Wanda hesitated, then sighed. "You’re mad."

You let out a hollow laugh. "Mad? No. That would mean I still care."

A flicker of something passed across Wanda’s face—hurt, maybe. "You never used to lie to me," Wanda murmured, almost like it was an afterthought.

You inhaled sharply. "That was before you made me question everything that came out of your mouth."

Silence stretched between them. The kind that wasn’t comfortable anymore.

"I didn’t want to do this here," Wanda muttered, running a hand through her hair. "But I don’t want to keep pretending either."

You scoffed. "That’s rich, coming from you." Wanda flinched, and for a moment, you almost felt guilty.

"You really think I didn’t love you?" Wanda asked, voice quieter now, like she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

Your heart clenched, but you forced herself to stay distant. "I think that whatever we had wasn’t enough for you."

Wanda’s jaw tensed. "That’s not fair."

You took a step forward, and before you could stop herself, the words spilled out. "You left me, Wanda. You left us. And for what? Someone who didn’t even know you the way I did? Someone who didn’t—" She cut herself off, swallowing hard.

Wanda’s gaze softened. "Y/N…"

"Don’t," you sternly said.

Because if Wanda said your name like that again—like you still mattered—you weren’t sure you’d be able to keep standing.

"I never stopped loving you."

You clenched your fists. You didn’t believe it, because if you did, it would destroy you all over again.

For days, you did your best to avoid Wanda.

You took different routes to class, skipped places you knew Wanda might be, and buried herself in your studies. It should’ve been easy.

But then came the moments in between.

A glimpse of red hair across the courtyard. The sound of laughter that sounded too much like Wanda’s. The feeling of her eyes lingering on you when you weren’t looking. You hated how much space Wanda still took up in her mind.

Even now, as you sat in the back of the lecture hall, you could feel it. The ache of something unresolved. And then, as if the universe enjoyed watching you suffer, the professor spoke.

"You’ll be working in pairs for this project," he announced. "I’ll be assigning the partners."

You barely heard the names being called. You were too busy trying to focus on your breathing. There were at least twenty students in this class. There was no way you would get partnered with her.

"And lastly," the professor continued, flipping a page. "Y/L/N and Maximoff."

Your stomach dropped. The room blurred at the edges as you slowly turned your head, but Wanda was already looking at you.

And the worst part, she didn’t even look surprised.

"I can switch partners," you said as soon as class ended, already standing from your seat.

Wanda caught your hand, feeling her slightly caress your wrist, just like how she used to. "No, you won’t."

The touch burned. Not in the way it used to, soft and safe. But in a way that made you feel like she was drowning in everything she had tried to forget.

You pulled your arm back. "This isn’t going to work."

Wanda tilted her head. "Why? Because you still hate me?"

You exhaled sharply. "Because I don’t trust you."

For a second, something flickered in Wanda’s eyes— hurt, maybe. But then she straightened. "We don’t have to like each other to work together."

You clenched her fists. "Fine. But don’t expect anything more from me."

A small, bitter smile tugged at Wanda’s lips. "I never do."

You turned away before Wanda could see the way that sentence wrecked you. Because once upon a time, you had given Wanda everything. Every piece of yourself.

And in the end, it still hadn’t been enough.

You had been sitting beneath the old oak tree, headphones in, pretending to study. But the second Wanda sat down beside you, everything inside you tensed. Your eyes didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge her. Maybe if you ignored Wanda long enough, she would just disappear from your life.

"Are you going to avoid me forever?" Wanda’s voice was quiet, but there was a sharpness underneath it.

You sighed, closing your book. "I don’t see why it matters to you."

"Of course it matters." Wanda hesitated, then softer, "You still matter."

You clenched her jaw. "Don’t," you warned, turning to face Wanda for the first time in days. "Don’t say things you don’t mean."

Wanda exhaled, looking down at her hands. "That’s the problem, Y/N. I meant everything."

You scoffed, bitter. "Right. You meant it when you said you loved me. And then you meant it when you chose someone else."

Wanda flinched but didn’t look away. "You think that’s what happened?"

You stared at her, feeling something in your chest twist painfully. "Isn’t it?" A silence stretched between them—thick, heavy, suffocating.

And then, Wanda spoke.

"I never fell out of love with you." The words were barely above a whisper, but they hit you like a thunderclap.

Your breath caught, your heart pounding as you forced herself to stay still. "Then why?" you asked, your voice almost breaking. "Why did you leave me for him?"

Wanda swallowed hard, looking at you like she wanted to reach out, but didn’t. "Because I thought I had to."

She let out a shaky breath. "You never saw it, but my family was struggling. My father lost his job, my mother was barely holding things together, and I was scared. Vision—he had connections, opportunities. My mother thought if I was with him, I’d have a better future. A stable life. And I was stupid enough to believe that maybe, if I forced myself to feel something for him, I wouldn’t have to lose everything else." Wanda looked away, blinking quickly.

"But I never loved him, Y/N. Not the way I loved you."

You felt like the ground had been pulled out from beneath you. "You broke my heart," she whispered, voice unsteady. "And you didn’t even tell me why."

"I know," Wanda said, voice thick with regret. "And I’m sorry. I’ve been sorry every single day since I walked away."

You inhaled sharply, gripping the edges of your book as if it could keep you steady. You wanted to be angry, to hold on to the bitterness you had nurtured for so long. But now, the truth sat between them, raw and undeniable, unraveling every wall she had built.

And maybe that was the worst part of all.

Because despite everything, despite the pain, despite the years of silence and regret— you still loved her. And you didn’t know if you could stop.

"I need you to know something," Wanda said, voice steady despite the hesitation in her eyes.

"I didn’t come here expecting you to forgive me. I didn’t transfer here hoping we’d just go back to how we were. I know I hurt you, Y/N. And if you never want to see me again after this, I’ll understand. But I can’t leave things the way they are. Not again."

You swallowed, heart in your throat. "Wanda—"

"I love you," Wanda said, voice breaking just slightly. "I never stopped."

You felt something inside her shatter. The walls you had spent so long building crumbled in an instant, leaving nothing but the undeniable truth of what had always been. You could feel the weight of your own feelings pressing against your ribs, too big to contain.

And then, before you could stop herself, you reached for Wanda.

You felt Wanda freeze, breath hitching as your fingers brushed against her wrist—tentative, testing. And then, slowly, Wanda exhaled, tilting her head just slightly, waiting.

One second, there was space between you two, and the next, Wanda was pulling you closer, warm foreheads nearly touching. You could feel Wanda’s breath against your lips, warm and familiar, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Tell me to stop," Wanda whispered, voice trembling. "And I will."

You swallowed hard, hands tightening against Wanda’s jacket. "I don’t want you to." And that was all it took.

Wanda closed the distance, and the second your lips met. You felt the weight of every year, every unspoken word, every heartbreak melt into the kiss. It was desperate and soft and everything in between, full of the years you had lost and the love that had never really left.

When you finally pulled away, Wanda rested her forehead against yours, breathing hard. "I don’t deserve this," she murmured.

You sighed, closing your eyes. "Maybe not. But I think we deserve a second chance."

Wanda let out a soft, shaky laugh, pressing another gentle kiss to your soft lips. "Then let’s not waste it this time."

And just like that, the ghosts of what once was this puddle of hurt finally began to fade.

You weren’t sixteen anymore, lying under the stars and making promises you couldn’t keep.

But maybe this time, you would.

Maybe this time, forever wouldn’t be a lie.

#valwrites .ᐟ #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #second chance romance #angst #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #fluff

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