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bootycallin · 16 days ago

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B(W)ETTER THAN ME !?

꩜ .ᐟ basically: vi hears from you that it's practically impossible for you to cum without having your clit played with, and guys never seem to find it to begin with. she takes that as a challenge.

cw: female reader with female anatomy. close friend vi. you can read this as modern au if you want, idfk. strap usage. doggy and then into another position idk the name of. manhandling. mentions of edging. petnames (doll, baby, etc.). overstimulation? squirting. very self indulgent if you couldn't tell. no plot just pôrn.

a/n; shoutout to my girls who are literally impossible to please without playing w they clit, we fightin for our lives over here. don’t expect a lot of pretty looking posts like this, i got excited. again, if any stuffs missing, pls tell me!! hope u like it…

NSFW UTC

"oh, really, doll?" it was an innocent conversation at first, you swore it was. you really don't know how it wound up with you bent over, face down ass up in your bed. your dearest friend, vi, right behind you. pounding into you. "it's frustrating," you said. "i can never cum from somebody just fucking me. no guy even knows that the clit exists either." you had been around vi enough to confide in her, even with your most intimate stories and complaints. what you didn't know is that by saying that, you inadvertantly challenged her.

"fuck, vi, wait--" you gasp, hand clumsily reaching behind you, feeling up her hipbone to her hard abs, glistened with sweat. "break. break. break." she had been plowing into you for what felt like hours now. realistically, it might only be a few minutes, but it's far longer than any other dude you had a fling with. for a second you wonder what the fuck she's eating to have this sort of stamina, because it sure as hell isn't human. "hurts?" she asked you, tone way too kind and sweet for the position she had you in. "no," you pant. "just... just gimme a sec--" it didn't hurt. quite the opposite-- it felt amazing. like nirvana except maybe ten times filthier. she was pounding you to cloud nine and back and gods, it felt good, but you still hadn't cum. right, she didn't play with your clit once. because she has to prove a point! she doesn't care how long shes gonna spend plowing into you with this goddamn strap, she wants to give you the best orgasm of your life, clit untouched. right now, for somebody that had never done this-- it was torture. a constant build-up, her tip repeatedly kissing the deepest places inside you until you felt like she was in your guts, rubbing against your slick walls, filling you up so good. it was too much, but not enough at the same time.

you didn't know, but she was being tortured too. she silently vowed to herself the moment she manhandled you onto your bed that she would not cum until you did. so, she's just sorta been edging herself for the past, like, seven minutes. may the higher lords of sex bless doggy, because were you to see her face right now, her ego would be destroyed. sweaty, red, nearly teary-eyed.

"want me to sto-"

"no," you answer just a tad too quickly. she cracks an amused huff at that, hands trailing up and down the curve of your ass, squeezing the plump flesh.

"fuck- just- gh!-"

you didn't have to finish the goddamn sentence, because when you were about to, vi has your wrists in her hands, pulling back and slamming forward into you with a guttural growl. it’s harsher, it’s meaner, and it feels so goddamn good.

you don't even realize what's happening until your back presses against her chest. she pulled you up against her, hands still wrapped tightly together as she rut into you. with the closer proximity, her face buried into the crook of your neck. you could hear her panting, groaning, growling with every smack of her hips against yours. oh, and she could hear every little cry that came from you when she rut into that little spot you always found hard to reach.

oh, vi. shit, fuck, fuck me, yes. oh, she's gonna be dreaming about you for a while after this.

"viii!--" you whine, throwing your head back. there it was again, that heat bubbling in your stomach like a boiling pot, ready to boil over. it was stronger. far stronger. your head was fuzzy with the feeling.

"shit, vi-- fuck, fuck, fuck, i think i-"

"close, doll?" she growled. she just barely gives you the time to respond, shuffling a bit so she could angle her hips up, and oh-

"vi!" found it. head first (literally) ramming into that gooey, sensitive and swollen bundle of nerves, the good old g. bet none of those guys were able to find it, huh, baby?

she growls into your shoulder when she feels your stubby little nails scratch at her lower abdomen, where she held your wrists back tight. you were close, she was close, she could feel it. perfect.

"vi, wait, shiiit!--" you cry out, but she's not stopping. it's too much to process, unlike anything you've ever felt before. you can feel the pressure building exponentially, your abused little cunt spasming around her cock, clenching so tight she nearly finds it hard to move if it weren't for the drippy slick running down your folds. it's strange, and for a second you're worried with the pressure building in your bladder, only to send shocks up to your clit.

"fuck, shit, it's weird, vi--" your head lolls back against her shoulder, jaw hanging open as you let out wanton cries and babbles.

"it's 'right, baby. jus' let go, come on..." she doesn't know if shes talking to you or herself. but she knows it works--

you finally cum with a dragged out whine of her name (that almost sounded like a scream, to be fair. she's surprised your throat isn't hoarse). you swear you black out for a second, vision going white as you feel like you explode into pleasured little pieces. and--

oh. oh.

the splashing of that milky, yet watery liquid, gushing all over her cock. damn, that's fucking hot. you should see yourself from her point of view. not only does she make you cum, she makes you squirt. vi takes that as enough victory to rut into you until she reaches her own orgasm-- which, to be fair, doesn't take too long since she's been on the edge of cumming for the past few minutes. she buries her face into your shoulder, eyes screwed shut. it still steals a few more whimpers and whines from you--and from her too, but she manages to hide them by biting your shoulder with a grunt.

too weak by both of your highs to keep upright, she ends up sitting back down onto the mattress, letting go of your arms only to wrap her own around your waist, cinching you two closer from behind. her strap has long since slipped out of you, leaving you dripping and empty, but ultimately satisfied.

"enjoy yourself?" you need a few minutes to come to and fro, blinking a few times before you see where vi is looking and look towards the direction, only to see the darkened, wet spot of your own making on you sheets. fuck.

"oh shit, that's--" you sound embarrassed, and she's quick to cut you off.

"it's fine, baby. just glad you enjoyed yourself." she chuckled. gods, she's so sweet when she wants to be. she runs her hands over your sides, kissing your nape.

"but you owe it to me, was that not the best orgasm of your life?" she whispers into your ear, her hand trailing down and down and down, until her ring and middle finger press against your twitchy clit, earning a sharp gasp from you.

"imagine what i could do playing with this pretty thing, though?"

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

#╰┈➤BOOTYCALLIN⨾#lesbian #wlw #arcane #arcane smut #arcane x female reader #arcane x reader #vi arcane #vi x fem reader #arcane vi x reader #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x female reader #league of legends x reader #x reader

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dollfacefantasy · 2 months ago

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clark kent x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, car sex, mating press a/n: ummm yeah i need him so bad it makes me ill <3

for as long as you'd known clark, you'd never known him to lose his temper. he was forever-patient, your boyfriend. understanding to almost a frustrating degree. especially with you, his little love.

he was already pretty easy to get along with, but on the rare occasion you did have issues, clark seemed to have a natural instinct for deescalating you. he never raised his voice, never spoke an unkind word about you, never gave you a look harsher than what could be described as stern.

all it took to calm you down was a glimpse of his natural puppy-dog eyes and pretty plush lips. his thick arms would circle around you and hold you to his chest. he'd sway back and forth with you a little, a small smile on his face as you melted into the embrace. whatever semblance of tension or irritation that had been bubbling up easily dissolved into a puddle between the two of your bodies.

so, all that to say, you didn't really believe clark possessed any kind of rough edge or combative instinct. despite his large stature, you couldn't really picture him ever being rough.

that was until tonight.

you and clark had planned to drop by some event at the talon, but your sweet boyfriend had warned you earlier that he found out there'd probably be some trouble there later. some potentially dangerous situation that he wanted you avoiding at all costs. it was for your safety. he just wanted you to stay home where he wouldn't be worried while him and chloe investigated.

but did you listen to him? of course not. you went anyways, not in the mood to listen to his vague explanations as to how he even discovered this information in the first place. you put on a cute little dress with some new shoes you bought specifically for the night and took off.

unfortunately for you, clark had turned out to be right. not even thirty minutes after you arrived, chaos broke out. people flew through walls and glass shattered everywhere, all because of some guy who looked like his body could stretch and bend like a rubberband. it totally sucked. but none of that was even the worst part. you survived the craziness of whatever that person's problem was. the real danger came when the dust settled and you saw clark across the room staring at you.

he looked pissed.

he was at your side in an instant, but closing the distance didn't soften him any. it kind of did the opposite since up close he could see a bloody scrape stretching across your cheekbone.

you could see he was worried first and foremost, but behind that concerned top coat a fire burned. as soon as your small wound had been tended to, his long fingers clasped around your bicep. he pulled you to your feet and all but dragged you out of the coffee shop.

"clark i-" you started in an attempt to explain yourself.

"save it," he said, voice as cold as you'd ever heard it, "i asked you for one thing. that's it. stay home for your own good. don't come out here and pointlessly risk your life."

"it wasn't that bad," you defend weakly.

"but why even take the chance?" he asked with true exasperation, "i shouldn't need to convince you that your safety is more important than whatever they had going on tonight."

he didn't continue the lecture beyond that. just walked with a clenched jaw and motivated stare in the direction of his truck. like always, he opened the door for you when you got there. though this time, he practically scooped you up and dumped you into the car.

he was silent as he drove, fingers tight around the steering wheel. you could practically feel the frustration rolling off of him. the urge to lash out for once was near spilling over. he pulled the car over, and you figured you were really in for it. in a way you were right, just not how you thought.

clark didn't bother yelling, didn't try to start a fight. he glared at you for a few silent seconds before leaning across the seats and crashing his lips against yours. he kissed you like he wanted to steal the breath from your lungs.

after a blur of clothing being shifted around and positioning body parts awkwardly in the confined space, you found yourself in the meanest mating press of your life.

you were folded in half beneath all of clark's weight. the points of your new heels scraped up the truck's ceiling while your knees squished against your chest. little squeaks and whines slipped their way out of you as his tip battered against your cervix. he was so deep you swore you could feel your insides rearranging to make room for him.

"clarkkkk," you mewled before biting your lip, desperately searching for some way to ground yourself. one set of your fingers gripped strands of his dark hair while the other held a fist of his flannel.

"what, baby?" he panted. for once, clark wasn't fawning over you between thrusts. he wasn't cooing or praising you for taking him so well. instead, he had his face against your neck and his hands wrapped around your waist, bucking into your dripping heat with enough force to rock the car.

you tried to force out words to convey what you were thinking. too big. too much. so deep. harder. faster. none of those made it though. only choked moans and then a sharp squeal when he rolled his hips and struck that extra-sensitive sweet spot inside you.

"someone's gonna see if they drive by," you whimpered, squirming underneath him.

"maybe you should hold still then and let me finish, huh?" he grunted, "no one's gonna see. everyone's in town dealing with the mess from tonight. the one i told you was gonna happen."

"i didn't think-"

"i know you didn't," he interrupted, "didn't use that pretty little head at all, did you?"

words of defense eluded you right now, his nonstop thrusts keeping your mind cloudy. instead you chose to whine, your lip quivering he rolled his hips deeper yet again.

"oh yeah?" he asked, as if you'd said something coherent.

you opened your mouth again to speak, to really argue back this time, but you were cut off by your own desperate cry when his hands tugged you closer and speared you even further on his cock. you could feel him grinning against your neck at the noise.

"i know, baby. i know you're sorry. you don't have to explain. thinking's too hard for you right now, yeah?" he cooed, his tone bordering on mocking.

your pout got more severe but so did the needy sounds escaping your mouth. you felt those long fangs of his scrape against your throat. his tongue then glided across the area, making you shudder.

"clark-" you tried to say something else, but he cut you off. he raised his head up and kissed you deep again, swallowing the words right from your mouth. when he pulled back for air, he rested his sweaty forehead against yours.

"you can be such a brat," he breathed, "so much whining even though i know you love this."

the truck creaked as his movements continued to jostle it. you felt his breath fanning across your face and watched as his eyes fluttered shut. you knew he was getting close, but so were you. your cunt squeezed around him rhythmically, coaxing him too the edge along with you.

"you gonna cum, baby?" he finally muttered against your lips.

you nodded eagerly, more than ready to release. it only took a few more hard thrusts to get you there, and clark followed along no problem. in the afterglow, he laid on top of you for a minute or so, trapping you in a cage of searing body heat.

when he finally did sit up, the two of you fixed your clothes and stretched your limbs. he looked over at you with more tenderness. your boyfriend's gentle temperament had seemingly returned with the relief his peak brought.

he cupped your jaw with his fingers, looking over that cut on your face. leaning in, he gave it a small kiss before starting up the car again.

"i'm just trying to look out for you, you know? just... please listen next time. i don't know what i'd do if you got hurt. you had me worried sick."

"i will. i'm sorry i scared you," you replied softly. your eyes studied the loving look in his eyes and the way his features seemed so at peace now that all his adrenaline was out of his system.

you grabbed his hand across the seats and traced little patterns on his knuckles for the drive home. he let you play with his fingers but shot you a glance.

"i'm serious. next time you get involved with something like that i won't let you off so easy," he teased.

you smiled and nodded, wanting to put his mind at ease. though in the back of your mind, a small part of you considered trying again some time, just to see what "not so easy" looked like to him.

#clark kent x reader #clark kent smut #clark kent x you #clark kent imagine #superman x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc smut #smallville x reader #ch: clark kent 💌

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criminalamnesia · 1 year ago

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Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

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street-smarts00 · 5 months ago

Text

in omnia paratus

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: Spencer's been on the fence with his feelings for you. Due to his past traumas he’s decided to keep his feelings hidden. Until you’re caught in a dangerous situation at work

WC: 3.5 k

A/N: I am SO SORRY this took so long. I’ve been sitting on this for two months because I was being a perfectionist and had writer's block. Thank you so much to the person who requested this idea and I hope ya’ll like it! beta read by @whats-yesterday00

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Protective!spencer, Friends to lovers, age gap (25 and idk 33 or 34), during season 9 (sadly no post prison Reid, I refuse to watch the show after Derek & Hotch leave), Maeve is implied

Warnings!: mentions of murder, stalking, gunshot wounds, hostage situation and incorrect info about hostage situation cause Idk I'm not in the FBI

Everyone knew Spencer Reid had a soft spot for you. Well, everyone except for you.

Since the moment you met you’ve been on his mind.

“Do you know how old she is?”

“No, how old is she?”

“25!” Penelope squeaked before being shushed by Rossi.

“Wow, she’s gotta be the youngest person to ever be in the BAU. Well, second to genius over here,” JJ commented while pointing to Reid.

“That’s if she gets the job,” Morgan added.

They were all crowded around the desks in front of Hotch’s office. The blinds were cracked and they could just barely make out the woman seated across from their boss for an interview.

Due to the increase in caseload after Alex joined, Hotch made the request to add an additional member of the team. After interviewing a few people that didn’t pan out, he heard quite a bit about you from your supervisor saying how well you’ve done with the FBI and you’d be an exceptional fit for the team.

Then of course Penelope looked up everyone who was interviewing with Hotch. You being her most recent victim.

“How long has she been with the FBI?” Alex questioned.

“Three years,” Penelope answered

“What? Did she join right after college?”

“Not right away. She graduated early and got experience with law enforcement first.”

Spencer sat at his desk quietly while everyone was peering into Hotch’s office. Not to say he wasn’t nosy as well. You were already behind the blinds when he arrived for work.

“Oh they’re shaking hands! That has to be a good sign,” Penelope cheered.

Morgan turned to the window, “It’s definitely not a bad one.”

Her eyes widened before loudly whispering, “Oh no they’re leaving. Disperse.”

She scurried off in her heels towards Derek’s desk while he followed behind with a grin. JJ, and Rossi averted their eyes from Hotch’s office and found Alex’s desk far more interesting.

All while Spencer’s attention was brought to the woman led down the stairs by his boss. It felt like his heart stopped beating when he saw how beautiful you were. He was brought back to earth as Hotch introduced you to the rest of the team.

“This is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he gestured to the man sitting at his desk.

You offered him a small wave and a kind smile, “Nice to meet you.”

It became quite obvious you two would get along very well. From very early on conversation flowed incredibly well between the two of you. There were very few people that he felt were easy to talk to because of his niche interests and the way he would ramble spitting facts left and right.

But he never had to worry about saying the wrong thing or talking too much with you. You often were a content listener or you would even match his passion on certain subjects. Most were topics Spencer already knew about.

When you first met Spencer you didn’t know the Dr in his name meant he held 3 PhD’s or that he was quite literally a genius.

So you were often telling stories or facts you found interesting that he already knew. In fact, almost every “fun fact” you brought up, he knew about already.

But he never interrupted you. He always was listening intently to what you had to say. Like he was hearing about it for the first time.

At some point you learned of his eidetic memory and how vast his knowledge was. It was during a case where you found out and mentioned it to him.

“Reid, remember when we were at the harbor and I mentioned that thing about sharks?” You hesitated, “did you know that already?”

“Yes,” he guiltily admitted.

You partially deflated suddenly feeling that the whole tangent you went on was pointless. “Why did you let me go on and on if you already knew?”

His eyes softened, “because I wanted to hear you talk about it.”

That was when his feelings started to peek through. As the months went on it only grew and grew. And you were none the wiser.

To the average person, it might not seem like much. Perhaps you were just good friends. But to a team of profilers (and best friends) it was painfully obvious.

It was almost painful the way he looked at you with a longing in his eyes. Or when his gaze immediately turned to you to catch your reaction or smile.

It was obvious by the way he found any excuse to bring you up in conversation. Or how in conversation with you he would mirror your mannerisms and lean closer to you.

As well as the things he remembered about you or the little things he did for you. Like the countless coffee cups he bought for you from his favorite coffee shop before work. And when he saw you struggling to find something or open something he was always right there to help.

Spencer Reid had feelings for you. Feelings so deep that he couldn’t pull the roots out even if he tried.

He didn’t know what to do with his feelings exactly. He hadn’t felt this strongly for someone since … well for a while. He was terrified of history repeating itself.

He couldn't lose you. He’d seen first hand what this job did to him, what it did to Hotch. Their loved ones ripped away from them too soon.

So for now at least, he kept his feelings to himself.

Well, until your last case.

The BAU was called in on a case that just turned serial. They found the unsub to be a man named Mark, who started killing because his girlfriend cheated on him. The first two victims reminded him of the man she cheated with. When that didn’t satisfy him, he hunted down and killed the other man.

Now the team and SWAT was stationed outside a bus that Mark was holding hostage. He stalked his ex-girlfriend and tracked down the new city bus she took.

The officers couldn’t get a clear shot of him because of where he was standing and he kept using the passengers as shields. Rossi was currently on the phone with him trying to make negotiation terms and get some of the people off the bus. Mark however was incredibly stubborn and didn’t want to let his leverage go.

So Rossi asked about the children on the bus and if Mark would be willing to let them off. They were met with silence on the other end of the phone, contrary to his previous behavior where he loved to hear himself talk.

After a short pause the phone spoke. “I’ll only send out the kids if you send in an agent.”

Rossi shifted his weight and crossed his arms. “Are there any other circumstances you’re willing to send out the children for?” he asked.

“Nope,” he said with a pop at the end of the word.

A look of concern was quickly exchanged between Rossi and Hotch. While their faces didn’t reveal much, their eyes spoke volumes.

“How about this,” the unsub continued. “I’ll send out their moms too.”

Rossi’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the eagerness to comply from the criminal. “You’ll send out the children and their mothers if we send in one of our agents?”

“I promise.”

Rossi returned his eyes to Hotch who stood rigid and tall with his arms folded. He was met with an approving nod before returning to the call.

“Alright, we can agree to those terms.”

“Oh and agent Rossi?” Mark perked.

“Yes?”

“Send in a girl.”

There was a tension that quietly branched out between the agents listening to the phone call.

“Why do you want a woman?” Rossi asked, clearly changing the dialogue used.

“I’m losing too many ladies sending out these moms. I want one back,” he replied with a cockiness to his voice.

Ross confirmed they could send in a female agent. Almost immediately after the unsub hung up, you volunteered to be the agent going on the bus.

“I’ll do it.”

Spencer’s head shot in your direction. “No you're not.” His voice was laced with concern and a hint of demand.

“Reid-”

“He specifically asked for a woman. We don’t know what he’s planning, he’s devolving.”

“And I’m willing to take that risk to make sure those kids are safe,” You defended yourself.

You turned to your boss waiting for his thoughts. Hotch knew you’d been exposed to enough high tension scenarios to know what you were doing. But just like any member of his team, he silently hesitated, worrying for your safety.

He took a breath before meeting your eyes again. “Send her in.”

Right before you were led to the bus, Hotch took off the holster on his ankle and handed it to you. “Some extra protection in case something happens.” You couldn’t hear the concern in his voice, but you saw it clear as day in his eyes.

You made your way to the bus and saw through the window Mark holding a gun to the driver and telling him to open the door. You stepped on and the doors closed quickly behind you. The unsub took a long look at you, panning up and down.

“Well how about that. Aren’t you a beauty? He said with a cheeky grin.

You tried your hardest not to look disgusted with him. Instead you kept your composure and spoke with courage and a confident demeanor.

“You this flirty with all your hostages?” you asked plainly.

As he gazed down at your legs his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. He bent down and with the gun in his hand, pushed away the bottom of your pants leg. When he saw the gun in the holster, he tsked.

“You always carry this much dead weight on you?”

He stood back up and put his hand out, “hand it over, I told them no weapons.”

You reluctantly took off Hotch’s holster and placed it in the unsubs hand. Your one line of defense was gone.

The longer you were on the bus, the more anxious Spencer got. He knew you were an exceptional profiler, and you had enough experience and skill to handle yourself in situations like this.

But that couldn’t stop the ache in his stomach or the fact that his heart rate could power a car by now.

He stood closer to the bus now to get a clearer view of the windows. They managed to successfully get the children and moms off and to safety, but you weren’t safe. Spencer figured you were trying to negotiate with the unsub, but that was going nowhere. This was confirmed when Rossi tried calling him again but every call was ignored.

This unsub was stubborn as hell. He knows he trapped himself, but didn’t want to back down. At least he didn’t want to go quietly.

Spencer was talking with the rest of the team trying to devise a plan when the gunshots were fired. The team immediately ran back to the cacophony on the bus.

More shots were fired, he didn’t know where from. He didn’t care.

He just needed to get to you.

When he got a decent view through one of the windows that hadn’t shattered he saw you. Your hand over arm in pain but still standing in front of the civilians to protect them. The unsub stalking over to you, gun in hand and smacking you over the head with it. You slammed against the chairs and fell to the floor.

Spencer's face paled. He swore he was going to throw up.

Through the fog of his mind Spencer saw Morgan escorting Mark off the bus, his hands now behind his back in cuffs.

He rushed past them, clambering through the door and up the stairs to get to you, calling your name.

“Reid?” he heard your small tired voice through the crowd.

He followed it to you, laying on the ground struggling to open your eyes and clutching your left arm.

He crouched down to your level with a gentle hand on your uninjured arm.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m right here,” he comforted.

“My head hurts,” you mumbled.

His eyes softened, “I know. I think you might have a concussion, you need to go to the hospital.”

You slowly started to fade out of consciousness. Spencer’s heart dropped and his hand moved from your arm to your face.

“No no no no stay with me okay?” he caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“Stay with me sweetheart,” he consoled.

Your eyes stopped struggling to stay open and finally made their close. His other hand rushed to your pulse point as he called for a medic.

Time seemed to stand still while Spencer sat next to your hospital bed waiting for you to wake up. He couldn’t leave your side. He didn’t want to.

You were okay. You were laying in the bed in front of him. But of course in his mind he ran through all the possible scenarios of how things could’ve gone worse, how things could’ve gone better. What would’ve happened if you didn’t have your gun taken away, or if the unsub got angry that you tried to bring a gun in. What if he didn’t lose his cool and start firing. What if you never went inside in the first place.

And with all of those possible scenarios, the same thought plagued him.

He was wrong.

Before he was too scarred from past traumas to reveal just how much you meant to him. Not wanting to repeat the past and lose yet another person he loved cared for.

But now, after seeing you in danger right in front of him, now he was terrified at the thought of you never knowing. He was now more scared you would never know how much he loved the way your nose crinkled when you smiled. How he thought the sound of your voice could cure any ailment he had. How he admired your strength and desire to protect others. How you could light up anyone's mood by just being you. How he could listen to you for hours, even if you were lecturing him on things he’d known like the back of his hand.

To him it was a whole new experience hearing it from you.

Spencer was pulled from his thoughts as you stirred awake. He saw your eyes adjust to the bright fluorescent lights ahead. He quickly got up to dim the lights for you.

When he returned to his seat you smiled at him, “hi.”

“Hi,” he smiled back.

“How are you feeling?”

You sighed. “Like shit,” you complained with a hint of humor.

“The doctor said you have a minor head injury, bruised ribs, and the shot to your arm thankfully didn’t break any bones.”

“Fun,” you said sarcastically.

A moment of silence passes between you two. He doesn’t exactly know what to say. How do you casually tell your friend and coworker you have a crush on them?

There is no casual way.

“You called me sweetheart,” you broke the silence.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

You fidget with the blanket, “earlier, when I passed out on the bus. You called me sweetheart.”

He searches his mind for the memories of the day. When he finds the memory he realizes in the heat of the moment the term of endearment slipped out.

He wasn’t aware you heard it.

“I did,” he confirmed as his ears flushed.

“Why?” you asked curiously.

He didn’t know how to tell you that he’s wanted to call you that for weeks now. So instead he settled with-

“It just … felt right.”

“Oh,” you replied quietly.

Spencer tensed up at your response.

“If I crossed the line-“

“No. Of course not,” you interrupted with a comforting voice.

The corners of your mouth lifted and cheeks dusted pink. “I thought it was sweet. You don’t normally say stuff like that.”

His heart warmed at your confession and a smile spread on his face.

“You thought me calling you sweetheart was sweet?” he lightly teased.

“Shut up,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Your laughter was cut short by a sharp pain in your abdomen. You bit down on your lip and gripped the side of the bed in pain.

The reality that you were injured on the job was rushing back to him.

He licked his lips, his nervous unconscious habit.

“I was really worried about you.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” he interjected.

“The entire time you were on that bus I was sick to my stomach. Terrified that something bad was gonna happen and it did,” he started to ramble.

You leaned closer to him. ”But I’m okay Reid.”

“You still got hurt. He shot you for christ sake!” his voice raising in pitch and volume.

“Reid-”

“He lashed out at you! You could’ve died!”

“Spencer,” you said firmly, pulling his attention towards you.

He never heard you say his name before. No matter how many times he said you could call him Spencer, you still called him Reid. Hearing his name fall from your lips was like the consistency of honey.

You placed your hands on his face caressing his cheek. His golden eyes meet yours.

“I’m alright. I’m still here,” you consoled.

“But if-“

“Spencer.”

“Please,” he pleaded. “It’s important.”

You nodded your head, signaling for him to continue. He gently grabbed your wrists and brought your hands in his. He took a deep breath before he decided to spill the thing that had been eating away at his heart.

“I have feelings for you. I have for a long time. Almost as long as you’ve been at the BAU,” he started.

With your hands in his he started tracing his thumb over your knuckles.

“If we don’t have work I count down the days until I can see you again. When I do see you I desperately want to see you smile, see you happy. And if I’m the one that causes that smile, it makes my whole day. That’s why I never interrupted when you talked about something I already knew. The way your face lit up when you talked with such passion was the highlight of my day.”

“For months I was scared of my feelings and I kept them to myself. I was too scared to admit how much I liked you because I-” his hold on your hands tightened.

“I know what it feels like to lose someone. This job takes so much from us; I never wanted it to take you.”

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

“Today I realized it would be more painful if I went the rest of my life not telling you, than having even a fraction of a moment with you.”

A moment of silence danced between you two. Your head reeling from his confession, heart beating so hard you could feel it in your bones. Your palms sweaty from holding onto Spencers, but still neither of you let go.

The silence was deafening, plaguing him.

“Please … say something,” he begged.

Your lash line was collecting tears that you simultaneously tried blinking away. Your eyes found his tie less intimidating than his gaze.

“I never thought you would like me back,” you said with a soft tone.

Spencer's cheeks turned red as his heart started melting. “I do.”

You brought your eyes back to his. That precious smile on his face was infectious.

“Listen,” you squeezed his hands. “I’m not going anywhere. So you have as much time with me as you want.”

Spencer's eyes softened at your words. He raised your hands and placed a loving kiss on your knuckles.

The two of you were too lost in eachother to notice the footsteps towards the room.

“Hey, I found some Jello for her if she-” Alex abruptly stopped once she noticed what she walked into.

You both awkwardly pulled your hands away from each other; you fiddling with the hospital blanket, him rubbing his palms on his slacks.

“So, feeling better?” she asked hesitantly.

“Much,” you answered, still a bit flustered.

“Good, good to hear,” She tried not to sound too smug, but the small smile on her face said otherwise.

She raised and shook the jello container in her hand.

“I’m gonna leave this here,” she placed it on the table. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Thanks Blake,” you thanked as she left.

Once she was gone you quietly giggled and mumbled “oh my god,” under your breath.

“You know, she kept teasing me asking when I was going to ask you out. And don’t even get me started on Morgan,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

Your jaw dropped and eyes furrowed. “Did everyone else know but me?”

He pressed his lips in a thin line, “pretty much.”

“I must be a shitty profiler,” you half joked.

“Absolutely not,” he said in the most comforting voice. He brushed the hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear.

“You’re an amazing profiler.”

You smiled that smile he loved so much. The one where you couldn’t hide your joy and your nose crinkled.

“So, how do you think you’ll spend all those moments with me?” you inquired with a bit of a teasing tone.

“Doing anything sweetheart,” he answered seriously. He looked at you with awe written all over your face. “I'm ready for anything with you.”

“in omnia paratus” - ready for anything

Tag asks: @adrienneleclerc @ladybirdbeetle7

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

Text

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

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hydrasaura · 1 year ago

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youtube

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘤𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦,

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦…

#i have no words to describe what i felt watching this anime just immense sadness but also solace #i just find it incredibly weird how i found out about it right when i was dealing with the same kind of suffering as the one presented here #and whenever i think about it those wounds i thought were long closed open up again #i can't understand why i keep hurting because of one single person #i don't understand why they were the one to bring me down into despair like this #i never in my life thought that i'll be finding myself still having a heartache over someone that moved on from me so long ago #will i end up suffering for as long as i enjoyed their company? then what even is the point of attempting to get close to anyone #if the pain of them leaving is so unbearably suffocating #i don't even wish for them to return...like i could so easily interact with them again. but i know it's no use #what's done is done people change and you can't keep them locked into your cage forever #i don't even know what i wish for...just for my heart to grow an extra layer of armor after this and not break after everyone leaving #altho probably all this crying has raised the probability of me getting a heart-attack some day #whatever #i remembered because it's my accursed birth-month again the one where somehow everything bad happened to me

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matchingbatbites · 1 month ago

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Eddie doesn't like sports.

Well, okay, that's not technically true. Growing up in the deep south left him with an ingrained interest in college football that he's not sure he'll ever be able to shake, but at least he can understand that game. He doesn't know a single fucking thing about hockey.

The rest of the guys had been excited when Chrissy said the band had been offered tickets to see the local NHL team. He was upset by how quickly he'd been outnumbered, but the boys had plied him with the promise of violence on ice, and that was enough to sooth the betrayal, at least a little.

Which is how he finds himself here, smushed between Chrissy and Gareth and not really as engaged as he should be, watching a bunch of men run around on the ice - sometimes literally, which is crazy. There has been a little violence though, so that's something at least.

Eddie blinks when Chrissy hands him a small dry erase board and a couple of markers that she pull from her bag. "What's this for?"

"You're famous, Eddie. The arena staff knows we're here, which means we're probably going to be on camera. I figured you could entertain yourself with some appropriate messages. Appropriate," she reiterates, and Eddie grabs at his chest like he's been shot.

"You wound me! As if I would ever deign to flash the cameras with a message that's anything less than the pinnacle of wholesome!"

Chrissy rolls her eyes but smiles - ever used to his dramatics by now - and just turns back to the game. Right, sometimes it's easy to forget that Chrissy is actually a sports person.

Eddie gets to work on his first message, not entirely sure when they're going to be the focus of the large screen above them. Chrissy glances over to see what he's writing and just sighs, and Eddie can't bite back his grin.

It's actually not too long before the announcer mentions something that isn't related to the game, and then-

"With nearly twelve million monthly listeners on Spotify, please welcome local metal band, Corroded Coffin!"

Eddie looks up to see their faces on the screen and grins as he turns his board around, showing off the LOOKIN 4 HUSBAND he's written in block letters. There's a mix of cheers and laughter from the crowd, and Eddie can't help but give a joking wink to the camera before he's laughing as well.

Chrissy smacks him on the arm and says "I can't believe you," but she's smiling as well. Eddie just shrugs and cleans the message from the whiteboard, freeing up space for him to doodle in between catching glances at the game.

It's a little bit later when a big fight breaks out, and a few players from each team are sent to the- box? The box. Eddie watches the big screen as the camera follows one of the players, tracking the man as he steps inside the little booth and rips his helmet off in frustration and- holy shit.

The guy is fucking stunning; his jaw, his nose, his sweat-damp hair and the beauty marks scattered across his skin like stars. Eddie wants to get closer, wants to know the color of his eyes and smooth the crease between his brows, wants to shove his fingers into that pretty, pink mouth-

And then the camera changes, going back to the players on the ice, and Eddie blinks like he's been released from a spell. He turns to Chrissy, one hand grabbing at her arm as he says "Who the fuck was that guy?"

Chrissy glances at him but keeps most of her attention on the game. "Harrington? He's literally the captain of our team, Eddie. I know you're not super into this, but that's kind of a hard thing to miss."

The man huffs a little as he releases Chrissy's arm. "I know literally jack-shit about this game, Chrissy, nothing is hard to miss."

Eddie takes the chance to re-write his white board before turning it to face outward, hoping that some cameraman will take pity on him and put him back on screen. He's not sure how long Harrington has in what is essentially timeout, but Eddie keeps his eyes on him all the same, glad that they're actually not too far away from the box.

It's a couple of minutes later when the announcer says "Looks like our friends Corroded Coffin have another message, this time for team captain Steve Harrington," and Eddie doesn't need to look to know that the screen is showing his new sign: #14 U R PRETTY. DATE?

He sees Harrington - Steve - look up, and watches as the frustration melts from his face, only for the prettiest pink blush to spread across his cheeks and ears. The guy laughs - and christ, Eddie didn't think he could get any more beautiful, but here he is - and doesn't hesitate to nod, even makes a little call me motion like he knows Eddie's watching him.

Eddie beams and nods back, laughs when the other player in the box shoves Steve playfully and makes a comment that deepens the blush on his face. He gets a couple of shoves and smacks from his own friends and a bewildered "I can't believe you just did that!" from Gareth.

Chrissy leans into him as he cleans the board again. "Hockey's not so boring now, is it?" she says, and Eddie can't help but agree, his eyes never leaving the ice - leaving Steve - for the rest of the game.

#inspired by that one video of bbno$#because it's so eddie coded #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #hockey player steve harrington #joey writes

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archangeldyke-all · 3 months ago

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I JUST WATCHED ACT ONE AND HOLY SHIT

Do you think sevika likes biting? Like when other people do it? Because when I saw caitlyn doing it to her I could’ve sworn there was a smirk on sevikas face.

Anyway could you do like headcanons on this? If that’s okay. I love you❤️

oh i KNOW she likes biting AHAHHAAHAH

men and minors dni

really, nobody's been able to make you cum like sevika can. not even your trusty vibrator.

so, it's not surprising to you that you're always scratching up her back and leaving bite marks on her shoulders, but it is concerning.

you confront her about it early on in your relationship. both of you are naked and catching your breath in bed, sevika lazily smoking a cigarette and rubbing your back as you lay on top of her, your finger tracing the indent of your teeth on her breast.

"sevika... am i too rough with you?" you ask.

sevika chokes on her smokes, then sputters a laugh. "what're you talking about?!" she cackles.

"i'm always tearing your back up with my nails-- you've got, like scars on your shoulders now babe. and i worry that i'll draw blood one day, with my teeth or nails--"

"--okay, shut up." sevika cuts you off. you huff a bit and pinch her nipple, and sevika shivers and giggles. "baby. if you recall, i'm not exactly gentle with you, either. just fucked you like a bitch in heat, love, 'n 'm gonna have to lotion your ass from how much i was smacking it."

you suddenly feel bashful, sevika's casual discussion of the mindblowing sex you just had giving you butterflies. you bite her again, much more gently, now, right on the collarbone. "shush." you demand.

"what, you're shy now?" sevika teases. she takes a long drag off her cigarette before stubbing it out out and wrapping you up in her arms. "babe. i like it when you bite me. feels good to know i'm making you feel that good but... i also just like it. the feeling, and the bruises, 'n the way i get to show everyone you're fuckin' me... in fact, i'd like it if you did it even harder. 'n more. could probably cum in my pants from your teeth on my throat..." sevika admits, her voice trailing off and her eyes darting away from yours.

you chuckle and kiss her cheek. "who's shy now?"

sevika just smacks your ass.

so... you start biting her harder. in your time with sevika you've learned how to treat all kinds of wounds, so you aren't as hesitant as you might be to make her bleed. plus, sevika really fucking does love it.

she gets this excited little smirk going on her face when you start gnawing at her flesh, and when you finally really sink your teeth in (usually on her thighs, just a few inches away from her dripping cunt) she just melts. she whimpers and collapses against the bed and sometimes, if you're lucky, you can see her clit twitch in pleasure, despite the fact that you haven't touched her yet.

the first time she cums from it, it's an accident on your part.

you're at the last drop with her, drunk and grinding and making out sloppily in your little corner of the bar, and some woman across the room keeps eyeing her.

eventually, you pull away from her with a huff, smacking her shoulder a bit.

"w-what?" sevika asks, a little out of breath. you have to bite your lip to concentrate enough to get your words out, to resist the temptation of just kissing her again.

"d'you know her?" you ask, gesturing to the woman.

sevika quickly looks over her shoulder, a frown on her face. "w-who?"

"the bitch that's eyeing you like she's gonna be the one going home with you tonight." you growl.

a smile ticks up at the side of sevika's lips, and you scowl. "jealous, baby?"

"no. jealousy would be if you weren't mine. but you are. i'm possessive."

sevika's smile only grows, and she turns her back on her admirer to wrap her arms back around your waist. "i dunno her, love. even if i did, she'd be the last fuckin' thing on my mind tonight. first thing is your ass. second is your tongue. third and forth right here." sevika says as she squeezes your tits. you can't keep your giggles in.

"what about my teeth?" you tease.

sevika shudders, and before you know it, you're being pinned to a wall.

you groan in her mouth, wrapping one of your legs around her hips as she grinds against you. she shoves a hand under your shirt, groping your stomach and tits as you kiss.

you grab her lower lip between your teeth, and sevika freezes, hot little puffs of air hitting your face as she waits in anticipation for your next move.

you give her lip a soft nip before letting it go and ducking down to lick at her throat.

"ba-baby. please." sevika whines, her hips bucking against you in uncoordinated, sloppy little thrusts.

fuck. fuck. you don't have any real reason to worry, not when sevika's begging for your teeth in her throat. it's so hot it makes you dizzy, and you lose yourself for just a second as you clamp your teeth down into her flesh, hard.

sevika stiffens, squeaks, and then starts to shiver, her body collapsing against you and pinning you to the wall. you wrap your arms around her waist, groaning into her skin as she shivers against you.

"f-fuck!" sevika shouts. you pull away from her throat, blood and spit connecting your lips to her skin as you nuzzle her cheek. "fuck. fuck, i love you." sevika sighs.

you giggle, kissing her scars. "i love you, too, baby. can't believe you just came in your fuckin' pants for me."

sevika chuckles. "'s hot watching you get jealous, or possessive, or whatever." she says with a shrug. "'n i really fuckin' like your teeth."

you gently nip her cheek, then press your bloody lips to hers.

sevika moans at the taste.

taglist!

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#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

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