#got I almost didn’t finished this in time
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do you still have wisdom?
matt sturniolo x reader
summary: in the midst of your wisdom teeth removal, your boyfriend and his brothers become your caregivers, request
warnings: fluffy, language, one suggestive comment, talk of needles and surgery, mention of a safe word
the camera started rolling as you lethargically placed yourself in matt’s arms. today was the day you were getting your wisdom teeth removed and it was safe to say you were extremely nervous.
“tell everyone how you’re feeling y/n/n” nick said.
you lifted your head from matt’s chest and you replied, “i feel nervous about being put under anesthesia and i’m just really tired.” you felt matt footing shift slightly as he chucked.
matt moved from holding you to just wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “yeah so y/n didn’t really sleep last night, but you’ll have all the time to sleep tonight, okay?” you looked up at him and nodded with a small smile.
“so we’re going to go to the dentist and we’ll see you guys there.”
about an hour went by before you were sat in the chair, laying back, getting ready to receive your iv. you were not excited. you didn’t have a big fear of needles, you could tolerate them. it was the idea of the needle being in your arm for a long amount of time.
the three boys stood around you in a comforting manner. nick and matt stood to your right. nick filming while matt held your hand and soothingly ran his fingers through your hair. chris stood to your left paying attention to what the doctors were telling you guys.
“we’re going to put your iv in and it will give you the anesthesia so you’ll be out shortly after that. we’ll be in and out for the next couple minutes to see how you’re doing.” your doctor said as he started prepping your arm for the needle. you turned your head towards matt as he made goofy faces at you as a distraction.
“thank you.” you guys all stated as the doctor left your room. your eyes almost instantly started to become heavy and you felt sleep begin to take over.
the drowsiness became more prominent as the boys started to make jokes. “y/n, what kind of cup doesn’t hold liquid?” chris asked laughing. your eyes fluttered shut as you held a finger to your lips to shush him. “a cupcake.” chris finished making nobody laugh but himself.
you reached your arm up over your shoulder to gets matt’s attention. you blindly hit him and he looked down at you. “what’s up, love?” he asked.
“please ask chris to stop making jokes. i can’t focus on him right now.”
chris gave you an offended face as nick and matt broke out into a laughter. “you heard her chris, stop talking.” nick said almost in tears from laughing.
the doctor came back in just as you fell fully asleep. “okay y/n, we’re going to test your memory later. your password is grape.” you deliriously nodded in agreement. matt stayed by your side rubbing your shoulder for as long as he could before ultimately getting kicked out of the room.
the three boys stood in the hallway half focused on eachother and half focused on you. “how are you feeling matt?” chris asked, patting him on the shoulder and coming around to stand next to him. “i feel okay. i know how much pain she’s been in so i’m glad we’re getting that taken care of. i’m happy we’re all here to support her.”
the camera panned to you in the chair just as you started to lift your head slightly. you quickly side eyed the doctors as they readjusted you to leaning back.
a short time passed before all four of your wisdom teeth were extracted and your three best friends were allowed back in your room.
“how are you feeling y/n/n?” chris asked.
your were still a bit out of it and the gauze in your mouth slurred your words. “i’m cold.” was all that you got out. you were feeling emotional so when the three boys all looked at each other because they forgot your jacket in the car tears started to brim your eyes.
“awe sweetheart don’t cry we’ll figure it out. here you can have my long sleeve.” once you realized matt was next to you it was like your heart did a one eighty. “oh hi matt! i missed you!” you exclaimed lovingly as your words blended together.
“i appreciate the offer but i can’t put the shirt over my iv.” you said with a tiny frown. almost instantly chris started removing his zip-up and draped it over you. “hey! thanks chris.” you gave him a loopy smile.
“hey y/n, do you remember your password?” your doctor asked as he came back into the room to type on the computer. you instantly gave him, and the three brothers around you, a very confused look. “my safe word?” you questioned “yeah, it’s pian-” matt quickly but gently put his hand over your mouth to stop your talking.
you pushed his hand off of you. “what baby? he asked.”
“no y/n, he asked what your password was.” “like for my phone?” you were extremely confused at this point and you couldn’t get much out of the three boys who were laughing their asses off. your doctor took over trying to explain. “we gave you a password that you were supposed to remember. do you?” you shook your head at him. “that’s okay we’re going to give you another on and if you remember then you can leave and go home. your password is ocean.”
“ocean, got it”
you thought for a second before speaking up again. “hey doc, how long until i can suck dick again?” nick and chris had officially lost it at this point. cracking up at the fact that you had no idea that your exposing all of your and matt’s secrets. matt only blushed and tried not to smile when you smiled up at him and grabbed his hand in yours. you tried to wink at him but it came out more as a delayed blink.
the doctor didn’t look shocked at all. you figured he’d been used to receiving this question. “you have to wait until your incisions heal. so a couple weeks.” and with that the doctor left the room again.
you looked at matt with a sorrowful face. “sorry matt.” you remorsefully said. trying to change the subject matt spoke up, “what’s the password, sweetheart?” you looked at him lovingly. “you’re pretty.” you said reaching you hand up to rest on his cheek.
“thanks baby.”
“hey, between me and nick whose your favorite?” asked chris as he poked your shoulder in an annoying but excited manner. you looked at him, then at nick, and then back to matt. you looked straight into the camera nick was holding before firmly stating, “i don’t have favorites.” chris rolled his eyes at you.
“and if i did have a favorite it would be matt, duh.” hearing this matt leaned down to kiss your forehead.
“y/n, what’s your password to go home.”
“um? lake?”
“ohhhh so close. it is a body of water. it was ocean.” chris cooed at you as he rubbed your shoulder.
“your new one is sushi.” “oh i love sushi.”
you reached up to rub your eyes forgetting that your were still connected to a couple of wires. “ow you mother fucker.” you commented looking down at you arms. “please kiss it.” you said lifting your arm up to chris since he was closest to your iv.
“listen kid, i love ya but i’m not kissing your arm.”
“that’s so fucked up. i’d do it for you.” you complained. hesitantly, chris leaned down to place the lightest peck possible to your arm. “thank you. matt, i love you” you quickly changed the subject. he was caught off guard at your sudden outburst. “i love you too, y/n”
“nick, chris, i love you guys too.” “we love you y/n.” “love ya y/n/n.”
the doctor made his way back to the room to see that your medicine was all injected through your veins. and started to take your iv out. “do you remember the password to go home, y/n?”
“yep it’s sushi.” you said as you kept your eyes on matt to avoid noticing the needle coming out of your arm. he ran his hand up and down your arm to comfort you. “that’s right.” nick said patting your leg to congratulate you on remembering.
the doctor got a wheelchair to take you to the car. when you made it to the parking garage matt helped you into the passenger seat and gently kissed your cheek letting you know he had to go get the parking pass.
you leaned back in your chair and sighed contently. “i just love him so much. he’s so perfect and babygirl.” nick and chris laughed as matt came back to the car.
you held your teeth to the camera showing them the container. “i have to put my teeth under my pillow so the tooth fairy brings me money.”
“you’re bloody teeth are not going anywhere near my bed.” “our bed.”
the video ended shortly after that with you grabbing matt’s hand and telling the viewers to enjoy the video while you enjoyed the dominic fike album chris put on for you.
comments:
i love how flirty y/n is in anesthesia
matt was so boyf in this video
y/n is right matt is babygirl
chris is such a little brother it’s unreal
nick is really giving us the content we need
an: this is all i’ve been thinking about for the past day. also i started a tag list so go comment on it if you want added 🤍
taglist: @norr1ssturni0lo @recklessmatt
tags for this post: @thetriplets3 @mazzystar111
#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo imagine#sturniolo fanfic
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Demon's imprint
Demon x fem!reader || breeding, cum-play
Maybe you were a bit of a cumslut for your demon boyfriend, so what? You were always eager to take his load, whichever hole he chose. His favorite was your pussy, but he didn’t discriminate about fucking your ass until you felt it gaping, his cum leaking out slowly as he watched. Or fucking your throat so thoroughly you could taste him for hours afterward, sometimes so much you couldn’t swallow fast enough. But he made sure to feed it back to you, to make you eat every single drop.
“What are those pills you take?” He asked one day.
“Contraceptives.” You answered, trying not to appear as nervous as you felt.
“What are contra-captives?” He mispronounced, making you bite your tongue not to laugh.
“Contraceptives. They are pills that prevent me from getting pregnant.” You explained, trying to sound nonchalant, you could feel the anger rising inside of him, the room around you getting a few degrees hotter.
“They what?” He looked so offended and taken aback that you had to suppress another laugh. You could feel he was mad at you, and laughing wouldn’t be a good idea.
“So I can have babies when I desire. So I can choose.”
“You don’t want babies with me?” He looked sad and you felt bad about it, but it wasn’t the moment yet.
“Of course I do, but not now.” You were new in the underworld, and you needed to settle in your job before you could think about that.
He looked thoughtful for a while, staring at you intensely. You could almost sense the twists and turns his brain was doing. “I can beat those pills.” He finally said.
“What do you mean?” You couldn’t stop the giggle to erupt.
“I can fill you so full of my cum you’d get pregnant either way. I can breed you.” He deadpanned. You felt a rush of hot molten arousal pooling at your lower abdomen at his words. Maybe him breeding you was a hotter idea than you thought.
“That’s not how it wo-” You couldn’t finish that thought before he was bending you over and ripping the back of your jeans, impaling you on his dick and coming deep inside.
It didn’t work. Not that time, not the other thousands he tried. You were not sure he understood how the pill worked, or how it made it impossible for him to get you pregnant. He tried and tried and got frustrated every time your period arrived again. But he kept fucking you, filling you like you were his personal cumdump, just a slut ready to take his load every time he desired. And you fucking loved it.
You loved the feel of him filling you so deep, pounding into you until you screamed, and then fucking you again just to feel you squirm against him, overstimulated. It didn’t help that you loved when he filled you to the brim and looked proud as his cum leaked out your pussy. He used you as he pleased, always making sure to cum deep inside of you, pushing his cum right into you again. He was sure it would work eventually.
“I stopped taking the pills.” You announced one afternoon, both of you sitting on the couch watching a movie. He didn’t say anything, just stood there for a few seconds processing your words.
You didn’t have time to react. His response was instantaneous, he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, racing through the apartment until he reached the bedroom. He dropped you onto the mattress and undressed as your body shook up and down, finally settling on your back. You tried to undress, but didn’t have time before his claws were tearing down your favorite dress, your panties flaying over his shoulder at the same time. In seconds, both of you were naked and panting, his wings flapping behind him, like every time he got a bit too excited.
He parted your legs and drove right in. His tongue longer than a human’s could reach every single part of you, playing with your G spot like it was his favorite candy. He pressed, licked, moved and teased until you were groaning and moaning. His claws pinching your hips as he held you down. Those were gonna bruise so prettily. Your hair was probably a mess, and sweat was pooling on your throat as he drove you right till the edge.
And stopped.
You cried out, grabbing and scratching his shoulders, the base of his wings, anything you could reach to try to make him keep going. But he held himself over your pussy, breathing over your clit and making you shiver. He looked up at you, his eyes wild, there was something there that you never saw before. A hunger so primal you felt a shiver of fear run down your back.
“You do it.” He said.
Confusion filled you. “What?” He took your hand and guided it to your pussy, pressing slightly into your opening.
“The claws… I- I can’t control the claws.” You were flabbergasted, since you started seeing each other he never had trouble controlling his powers around you, but his hands were shaking and his claws were leaving red marks over your thighs as he tried to control himself. You shouldn’t find that as hot as you did.
You took charge and started fingering yourself, his eyes hungry as he looked intensely where your fingers disappeared inside of you. You felt self-conscious having him so focused on you, but he was always like that, a bit too intense, a bit too otherworldly. And you loved it.
You went straight in with two fingers, then three, soon four. You knew that wasn’t nearly enough for you to take him.
“I’m ready. I’m ready.” You chanted as he scratched your clit with his claw. The rush of danger and excitement as he toyed with you, your vulnerable areas at his mercy.
You both knew you weren’t fully ready, but the desperation and neediness for each other was so big he didn’t care. You would probably be sore for days, but you needed his dick inside of you. You needed any part of him inside of you ASAP. He pushed inside of you, slowly at first, but you squeezed your muscles trying to drive him in deeper, faster, and with a roar he grave in. He pushed inside of you fully, breaching you as you panted and cried his name. He was so big, so fucking big you could feel it in the back of your throat as he pounded inside your pussy.
It was fast, and raw, and completely phenomenal. He fucked you with abandon. Some primal urge inside of him was making him say all kinds of filthy things, whispering them right next to your ear.
“You are such a slut for my dick, my little human cumdump. You love to take my cock, don’t you? You love to be filled to the brim until you can’t form words, until you can’t stop crying because of how good it feels.” Your brain felt fuzzy, the pleasure so high you could just nod, urging him deeper, faster, rougher. “You want more, little slut? You want to be filled with my cum until it overflows? You want to take it all?” You moaned. He pushed your legs up, your knees next to your ears, he folded you like a pretzel as he pounded into you.
He grabbed your hair roughly, making your neck strain. “Look at that little slut, can you see it?” And then you saw it, the imprint of his cock pushing against your lower abdomen, making it bulge every time he drove in. The pace was frantic, his breath labored as you panted and trashed, unable to move much as he used your hole like a fleshlight.
Your vision blacked out, the sounds around you collapsed as your orgasm took over you. The whole world disappeared as you climaxed. In the distance you could hear him screaming his own release, but you couldn’t focus. You blacked out completely.
Who knew how much time had passed, when you came back to your senses you could hear him whispering. “Such a pretty pussy, all red and puffy.” His fingers, now clawless, were caressing your pussy, pushing back inside every drop of his cum that leaked out of your well used hole. You whimpered. “Aw, little human… So adorable all fucked out.” You couldn’t articulate words, but he didn’t care for a response, he pushed his fingers right back inside of you, hitting your G spot perfectly.
You were overstimulated, unable to speak, but he didn’t care about that either. He kept finger fucking you, playing with his cum inside your pussy until you cried out again, your climax making your body convulse as you cried. He laughed, looking proud of himself as he took a plug out of the box and plugged you right up. “Not a single drop can leave that pretty pussy until I say so.” He ordered. You nodded, too tired to argue, too fucked out to form coherent thoughts.
#monster x human#monster#monster boyfriend#monster fucker#teratophillia#monster imagine#demon#demon x human#demon x reader#demon smut#monster x reader
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Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope
cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse
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The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.
“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.
Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.
“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”
“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.
“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.
Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”
As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”
Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.
Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”
“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”
His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”
“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.
“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.
“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”
“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.
“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”
Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.
“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”
Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.
“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”
“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”
Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”
“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.
Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.
Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.
“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”
Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”
The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”
He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–
Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.
It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.
Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.
(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)
(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)
“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”
Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).
“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”
Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.
“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.
Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.
“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.
Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.
When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.
“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.
It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.
“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.
“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”
“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”
“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.
“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”
Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”
In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.
He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.
[Prompt: Embracing your partner]
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#eddiesteve#solar wrote#cw child abuse#referenced but does not take place in the fic#cw panic attack#even if it doesn't look like one at first#soft ending though as always I promise
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domestic headcanons
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 ambiguous relationship (oh my god they were roommates); living together; word vomit; incoherent scenarios; ooc aven probably. i offered my exp mats to gepard instead and now i have to grind traces all over again, maybe i should build clara while i’m at it (losing this particular 50/50 has driven me insane istg)
after aventurine’s endless pestering, you finally agree to move in with him. he’s got a whole block all to himself, so what’s you temporarily claiming a room going to change?
the moment you agree, and by that i mean the very second you agree, he’s going to arrange for people to move your stuff
you just need to move yourself over
he’s not going to let you do any hard labor, that’s what the grunts are for
it’s so quick? like, it only took the morning to have everything packed, moved, and unpacked
when you get to your desk the first thing you do is clutter it up
but there’s so much space?
you just can’t stack your stuff enough so that it’s snug the way you like
you try, but all you’ve managed to do is make a paper fortress on one side of your desk
why do the senior managers have so much space?
but you soon realize you didn’t really need to finish building your wall of documents
because your boss sits on your desk whenever he fancies annoying you
so there’s your clutter for the other side
though you still leave a few of your spare scarves there just so it’s not completely empty
a little out of place, but you have nothing else bulky enough
it’s okay, that corner of your desk is often occupied by a certain someone anyway
surprisingly, living with aventurine isn’t unpleasant at all. maybe it’s because you’re almost always within reach now, he’s started bothering you less – instead, he’ll do his work in your office. he has a perfectly good office of his own (arguably comfier too), but he insists on sitting next to you.
frankly, you are tempted to kick him out, but this is his place. you shouldn’t try to kick out your host landlord. and it’s not like he’s actively preventing you from concentrating. you usually leave him be, but you might’ve accidentally gotten used to it – when he’s not around, you feel like something’s missing. just a little bit, though.
he can and will always poke his head over to see what you’re working on
“arranging your meetings, go away.” you push his face back towards his laptop
“hey, leave 6pm to 8pm free!” he whines, as always, he’s trying to get a dinner date(?) with you
“no can do, you’re having dinner with mr diamond.”
he will throw a hissy fit
“why must it always be meal times? i want to eat with you!”
will complain and complain and complain even if you ignore him
you give him a flat “i will be present as well.”
you’re so bloody infuriating
he stares at you for a whole minute. and then he closes his laptop
you look at him. what is he trying to do now?
“not what i meant.” he gently whacks you over the head with the device, “you and i. dinner. alone. get it?”
normally you stand your ground and make him go through with these meetings
but sometimes you cave and indulge him
this is one of those times
“fine, i’ll push back your meeting with the media department tomorrow.”
you see literal flowers around him as he gets his way
well, not exactly his way, because if he had his way he would be free today
a compromise for tomorrow is good enough, he supposes
he will bring you out to lunch and dinner every day if he could
if only you’d stop telling him you technically don’t need to eat and just go along with it
and if only you’d stop scheduling every. single. important. meeting. during. meal. times.
still, he finds it amusing to read your face whenever you’re in those meetings with him
the only good thing about them, really
because you will have the tiniest furrow in your eyebrows when you eat something you don’t like
and it’ll last until the taste goes away (which is usually the entire meeting)
or you’ll have the most serene expression ever (though it’s more neutral than anything, really) when you find something you like
loves it when you try to not make it obvious that you like a particular dish because you’re not discreet at all
that is all you will eat for the rest of the meeting
you are given your own room, but more often than not you find yourself in aventurine’s room at night.
mostly because he drags you away from your desk – no, scrap that, it’s only because he drags you away from your desk. otherwise you would’ve kept working. or maybe gone and did some combat training. or anything but sleep, really.
you soon realize he likes cuddling you when he sleeps
this is something you’ll never deny him if he asks
in fact, he doesn’t even need to ask nowadays
you show up in his room everyday at around the same time
if he wants a nap in the middle of the day, you’ll also be there
you notice how much more quality rest he gets when you’re by his side
and how much less nightmares bothered him compared to before
(maybe you should try casual sleeping, too?)
whenever you try to slip out of his death grip to get some documents, or to use the bathroom, or for water, he will quietly ask you where you’re going
in a very, very slurred, sleepy way
you will try to explain, and all he’ll tell you as you wrench yourself out of his arms is a quiet “stay”
how are you supposed to go if he says that while letting you go?
good luck if you’re hoping to use the bathroom, most likely you’ll have to hold it in
otherwise, if you need anything else, your scarf-serpent can get it for you
although one time it returned with your documents in its mouth and drool all over it
then you had a rigorous session trying to teach them how to coil around things to pick them up
more like you had to learn, since they’re somewhat sentient extensions of you
on the off chance that you’ll be out for the night, you’ll leave your favorite scarf with him
it’s not as comforting as your person, but it does smell like you and feel like you
he’ll take it as a placeholder until you’re back :(
aventurine hates it when you’re out of office. whether it is to represent him, or to discuss matters with clients before you pass it onto him, he hates it when he’s alone at home.
odd, because he was so used to being on his own, and he was so certain he was going to be alone for the rest of his life.
this man will sit in your office regardless of your presence
your spare scarves keep him company
imagine his surprise when a bunch of faceless noodles slither onto him
he makes the connection very quickly
did not expect that every one of your scarves are mini leviathans
he thought there was only a few, and they move between scarves
a welcome surprise because he knows these huge little guys are friendly
those are the same guys that swallow monsters, so they’re actually not very friendly
but they’re friendly to him because they’re you
one of them will coil into a pile on his lap and rest its head on his thigh
and the others will be all around him
will slobber over him 100%
he will try to pet them, and will realize that they’re really affectionate with him
they will try to eat his hands
but, like, in a not alarming way
hold his hand in their maws but will not bite. only drool
when he pats the one who has his hand, it’ll let go
literally “that’s a weird looking dog” but there's more than ten of them
when you return from your errands, the first thing you see is aventurine dragging a bunch of your snakes along with him as he practically runs to greet you.
you wrap your arms around him as he jumps towards you, and you give him a few spins before setting him down again.
then you lower your scarf
you’re comfortable enough with him to not cover yourself up anymore
oh how he loves seeing your face, aeons, you have no idea
“guys.” you snap your fingers, and the creatures collapse back into inanimate fabric
you catch all of them, of course, then you open one arm for your boss
the best part (real)
he snuggles up against your side naturally
you lift him up easily even though both your hands are busy
he’s practically sitting on your forearm as you walk around the house
princess treatment
you’ll cuddle with him properly once you drop off your stuff
“ten minutes,” you tell him, “then i’ll have to get back to work.”
he will throw another hissy fit, like, “why are you busier than i am? i’m the boss!”
you pinch his nose and go: “exactly, mr aventurine”
instantly droops like a kicked puppy
he doesn’t even try to hide it
absolutely hates it when you’re formal with him in private even if you’re joking
feels like you’re back to square one all over again
“don’t call me that,” aventurine groans as he grabs your hair and tug at it like a toddler.
you glance at him. “displeased?”
“of course!” he tries to shake your head violently, but damn you and your stupid strength. “what happened to aven?”
you don’t respond
you’re busy tossing everything onto your chair and praying nothing falls off
he moves on to slapping your face lightly
“hey, hey!” as his hands smack and grab everything that’s touchable on your head
surprisingly, you let him
he might also pull on your scarf
and after a while, he’ll resort to rubbing his cheek against yours
“are you ignoring me…?”
you sit down on the couch and set aventurine in your lap. “impatient, are we?”
“can’t help it,” he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself into your embrace. “i hate when i’m alone…”
“aven…” you pat his back, knowing full well you’re falling for his tricks again. “there, there. should i just call it a day?”
“you would?” he asks, like a child receiving a gift for the first time, “really?”
“really.” you sigh as he tugs you down into spooning him, and you watch him tangle his limbs with yours.
eventually, you pull him closer to you. jeez, there’s just no way you can win against him, is there?
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine#aventurine x reader#ares's voracity pathstrider tales
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2 am thoughts with kit;
mdni
ex!rafe cameron who you mostly despise at this point, is a force to be reckoned with considering how he can sweet talk you back into his bed.
It’s concerning, you know that. It’s toxic, it’s bad, but you can never deny how good he fucks you. It’s hate being spewed at him while he’s balls deep, but at least you’re getting something out of it. You start to wonder if he likes how much you degrade him in bed now that he’s not your boyfriend. Telling him how much you hate him, how he’s an asshole, that you could never imagine dating him again, you’d tell him you’ve had good dick since him but he knows that one is a lie.
Rafe is under a slightly different mindset because you do piss him off, but he truly does miss you in his own twisted way. Even some of the softer things, he misses, and to him, the only way he can get even a lick of your attention is if he seduces you, or angers you enough to get you in his bed or in a bathroom.
It’s easy, he thinks. He has interest in how you’re doing, but he’s barely listening, too focused on your lips, your hands, your tits, all of you. His signature move of leaning close to you in a nonchalant way as if he wasn’t meaning to, that it was natural, always got to you. A hand to your lower back if he’s guiding you, even if it was only a couple steps you had to take. His voice is quieter, never as harsh as it can sometimes get.
Sometimes he’d feel like he’s coming off as desperate, and he is. But you don’t mind that. It makes it better when you pretend you’re not gonna give in to him and he gives you a pleading look only conveyed through his eyes while his jaw is tightened, fist clenched for a second before he calms himself, and once he’s waited enough in your eyes, you’re grabbing his hand and tugging him somewhere.
“I missed you,” he moans, right to your ear as he presses his cock into you. He’d say that almost every time and it gets you, hook, line and sinker.
Rafe is careful. He keeps his words calm, tame until he’s sure you’re completely gone and needy for him, then his thrusts get harder, his fingers digging into your skin, biting at your ear and your neck, making sure he leaves marks because he’d be angry with himself if he didn’t.
And his words turn filthier, “fuuuck you’re so damn tight. So wet, I make you this wet, huh?” Rafe lets out a combo of a growl and chuckle when you only whine in responses to him, “I know, baby, I know, don’t gotta say a word, I fucking know it.”
when the two of you finish, he’s always oddly caring, cleaning you up, getting you water if you needed it, but then he says shit like, “you wanna come to that new restaurant with me down by-“
“Shut it, Rafe,” you cut him off, getting your clothes on and leaving him be.
#late night thoughts#hehehehe first rafe thingy#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe x you#rafe smut#outerbanks rafe#rafe fic#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron drabble#obx#obx fic#obx fanfiction#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction
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Soldado (Alexia Putellas X Reader)
One of the prompts inspired me, so here ya go. It's definitely rusty but please let me know what we think!
Prompt: “Don’t just say that and then walk away!”
Walking up to the front door of the Putella’s home was one the most nerve wracking experiences you have ever experienced in your first 18 years of life. This home had become your sanctuary in the last 3 years, the family had taken you in and made sure you were loved and cared for and in return all you did was ruin the best and only friendship you ever had.
You had grown up with an absent mother and a drunk father, to say your childhood had been rough was an understatement. You were able to fend for your self by the age of 6 and you knew to hide whenever your father came home after 8pm. When he wasn’t drunk he was a half caring father, but you could never shake the black eyes and bruises you learned to hide. The only good thing he ever did for you was to make sure by the age of 15 you had been a good enough football player to be in the training with the Espanyol team.
This is where you met Alexia Putellas, she was this young superstar but she still befriended you. It didn’t take her long to see through the lies of where the bruises came from, and one late practice where you avoided going home she got you to spill the truth. From then on she made sure that holidays, school vacations, and everything in between you were invited to stay with her family.
Her mom became like a mother you never had, and Alba was the sister you never had. But Alexia she just always remained Alexia, you never knew what that meant until you turned 18. You had finally realised that she was more than just anything to you, and that you were madly in love with her. Never being able to keep a secret from her, you confessed your feelings to her 3 weeks ago and you haven’t heard from her since she walked away without responding.
Which brings you back to today, trying to work up the courage to knock on the door of the only place you would ever consider a home ready to say your goodbyes to the family you wish you still had. The last 3 weeks have been a whirlwind, and it took your drunk father almost breaking your arm and sending you to the ER to finally realise you needed to get out. You had walked the streets of Barcelona aimlessly trying to find a solution, and when the universe showed you a sign you jumped at it.
Shaking your head you gained the courage to reach up and knock at the door of the house. While you wait for someone to answer you hope that you can get this out without breaking down.
When the door opens you come face to face with Alba and you say softly “Hola, Albs.”
Alba smiles softly and leans against the door, blocking your way in, and she asks “what are you doing here Y/N?”
“I need to talk to Ale” you tell her deciding not to drag this out.
She crosses her arms over her chest and asks “Why would I let you do that? She shut down and hasn’t said anything for the last weeks and we haven’t seen you, you must have hurt her Y/N.”
Shaking your head you tell her “I never meant to do that Alba, but I promise I just need to tell her one thing and then I am gone.” You know you sound like your begging and you hope the desperation in your voice helps.
Before she can respond Alexia shows up at the door behind her sister and says “Alba its okay I got it.”
Alba turns and looks to her and then turns back to you and says “if you hurt her again I will hurt you.” She finishes with a glare and then moves back into the house.
Alexia steps outside on the porch with you and softly shuts the door. You take a moment to take her in, knowing this will be the last time you may see the women who has your heart. She’s in her most comfortable state, a pair of footy shorts, a soft hoodie (you note is one of yours) and barefoot.
You both stand there in silence for a minute and she finally breaks it and says “I am not ready to talk to you about it.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I came here to tell you one thing and then I will be out of your hair, you wont need to worry about avoiding me” you tell her softly.
“what? Y/N whats going on?” she asks softly stepping closer to you.
You take a step back and say “I’m leaving, I quit the team and I joined the army. I know you don’t understand it but I need to not be here anymore, and I need to do something thats for me, and will ensure I get away from him.”
She stares at you and doesn’t say anything but a soft “Y/N.”
“No, don’t do that, this isn’t about you this is for me. I love you Alexia and I will always be in love with you but I cant stay on the side line of my own life anymore, I need to become the best person I can be and get out from this dark cloud that is hanging over here. Its for the best, I cant wait to see you become the superstar I know you will be, but I cant do that here, watching it and knowing that you don’t love me back, that you aren’t in love with me. So this is goodbye Ale”
You slowly move down the stairs and move to wipe the tears under your eyes, and you make it to the end of the walkway when she moves and says “Don’t just say that and walk away from me Y/N! Thats not fair.”
You pause and turn your head towards her and says “what’s not fair is losing everything I have ever wanted because I have never been able to lie to you, I am doing something for me and you have to understand that.”
You don’t let her add or say anything else as you turn your back on her and move to your car, you hop in and start the engine driving away to your new life without looking back.
8 YEARS LATER
After 8 years of being a proper solider and training to better your self, you were finally able to settle down, and of course Barcelona would always have a hold on your heart. During your basic training your superiors noticed how easy it was for you to learn and communicate in many languages, add in that you knew how to fight and take it hit it made you the perfect soldier for a special ops team.
During your 8 years of active duty you spent 3 tours in Iraq, Afghanistan and other War torn countries. And when you were not on tour you were either in the UK or the USA learning and bettering your skills to be a better help for the team. It was a long 8 years of constantly being on the go and when an offer came up to go back to Barcelona and be no longer on active duty you took it.
They wanted your skills to help teach younger inexperienced soldiers and you craved the freedom and your bones ached for a stable home for your self. The Barcelona Police force hired you and were more than happy to have you work for them and also assist the army in their training.
Barcelona was where you had your own personal demons, and you knew after 8 years of running it was finally time to slow down and face those demons head on. It helped you were much stronger and mentally tougher then when you were 18 and you knew you needed to face them head on.
What you didn’t expect was to have to face one of them only a month into your new life in Barcelona. You had been out on patrol with your partner and were called to an assault at one of the smaller beaches in town. You got out of the passenger seat of the car and did a scan of the surroundings and you noticed a small crowd gathered at the edge of the sand and one person lying on the ground.
You met your partners eye and you both walked over, you with your military training on high alert, one hand on the hilt of the gun at your hip, your eyes roaming the surroundings. When you got closer to the crowd you almost stopped, when you noticed who was standing off on the edge of the crowd but you pushed through when you saw the guy on the ground get up and start to run at someone else in the crowd. You and your partner both sprang into action and got in between them and the guy you were holding tried to take a swing at the other and you easily subdued him and had him on his back with his hands locked behind his back in the blink of an eye.
Once he was secure with the handcuffs on your hip you hopped up and hauled him up with you, you turned and met your partners eyes who nodded at you and had his guy also in cuffs. He turned to the crowd and asked for any witnesses to what happened, as you moved your guy to the car and sat him in the back seat.
You sat him down and asked him his side of the story. After listening to his side you closed the door and left him in the car as a second patrol car rolled up for the second guy. You nodded to them and mentioned the guy int he back of your car and you walked back to the crowd. You took a deep breath and readied your self to face the first of your demons.
“Who’s next to be interviewed?” you asked your partner as you walked up beside him, and he pointed to the group of 3 girls to the left.
Moving towards them you introduced your self “Hola, I am Officer Y/L/N and I will need to see your IDs and then I can take your statement.” They all handed their IDs over and as you were matching them and recording their names and information you couldn’t help but take a peak at the women who held your heart.
You hadn’t seen her since that day 8 years ago on her mothers front steps, you had followed her career and you knew she was in the middle of a miracle season and she was on track to win everything. Seeing her on the computer screen through a grainy stream wasn’t the same as seeing her in person. Just looking at her was slowly igniting that spark inside you that you thought you had buried 8 years ago.
“Can one of you tell me what happened?” you ask them ready to take notes and keep this professional.
“so basically, we were lying here and the guy in your car came up and started to give us a bit of a hard time, but were used to it. SO we told him to leave us alone, and then the guy there with your partner walked up and tried to defend us, and the other guy just threw a punch at him.” You had their IDs so you knew this was Maria Leon who explained it.
“they started going at each other and thats when Ale called 911, the commotion drew more people over and they stopped fighting when they had a crowd and then you guys showed up.” Jennifer Hermoso explained the rest to you.
“thank you, so to be clear, the one in the back of the car threw the first punch and harassed you?” you asked wanting to finish this up.
Maria smiled and said “I wouldn’t say harassed, we can take care of ourselves, but yes he started it and threw the first punch.”
“And you both agree?” you ask.
“Yep, he did” Jennifer agrees.
Alexia just nods and remains silent through the whole exchange. You nod and say “okay this clears things up, someone may be in touch but you are free to go.”
The two of them smile and say their thanks and move to leave, but Alexia remains standing in front of you silent.
“ale you coming?” Jennifer asks her and it seems to shake her out of it and she nods and moves to gather her stuff.
You nod at nothing and move to go back to your partner, you both agree you to the statement you got from different people and then you move to walk back to the car together. Before you can get half way there you turn back and look toward Alexia and you meet her eyes, as she’s still watching you.
It takes your partner nudging you for you to break contact and you move to get into the car. before you can fully sit you hear “Officer Y/LN” yelled out behind you and you turn and see Alexia moving quickly towards you, you close the door and step towards her and away from your partner hearing the exchange.
“Yes Alexia?” you ask her softly as she stops a foot from you.
“You’re back?” she asks you to the point.
“I am”
“for good?” she asks you again straight to the point.
“I think so yeah”
“okay then.” she says and moves to walk away.
“thats it?” you ask her confused.
She shrugs and half turns to you and says “How does it feel being on the other end of someone walking way from you? It sucks, being left to wonder what they mean and what they are going to do.”
You can feel the pang in your heart listening to how broken she sounds and you ask her “Can we talk about it?”
“now you want to talk? What happened to talking 8 years ago?” she turns on you half shouting and you know that she’s drawn and scene.
“ale, please can we talk somewhere not here, and not when I am on duty?” you ask her.
She looks around and shakes her head and says “you know where to find me, if you even want to.” As she finishes she jogs away towards her friends and you are left standing there wondering if this is a demon you will be able to tame, or if you were doomed to be in love with someone you can never have.
#woso imagines#woso x reader#woso imagine#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas#espwnt x reader
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Wait for your love Pt 3
summary: you wait in silence, waiting for wonwoo to finally love you
inspired by Ariana Grande's We Can't be Friends (AKA Wait for your love)
a/n: as promised the final part of wait for your love :D literally just finished it. Enjoy 💞
Don’t wanna feed this monstrous fire
On a bright Saturday morning, you found yourself nestled in a booth opposite Chan. A week into your move, Chan was finally able to convince you to join him at a nearby cafe for lunch. He insisted that this cafe was “hidden” and such a “hole in the wall” that someone cool like you-know-who would never step within 5 feet of the place.
Chan sipped his ice americano silently, thinking of the best way of approaching the topic of you-know-who. He was becoming increasingly concerned about your maladaptive habits: barely eating meals, sleeping less than 4 hours each night and studying every waking moment. That wasn’t even the scariest part, the scariest was when he’d catch you staring into space, as if your soul had left your body.
You were too busy admiring at your iced latte to notice a familiar figure walking pass the window adjacent to your table.
Chan, however, immediately noticed his tall friend. He prayed to all the gods that his friend was too tall to see anybody. Sadly his prayer went unanswered
Kim Mingyu immediately doubled back when he noticed his two friends sitting by the window. His eyes met Chan’s. Chan tilted his head towards you and shook his head.
Now to any normal person, that would have meant do not come over.
Clearly, Mingyu was anything but normal.
“Y/n! Dino!”
Mingyu’s voice pulled you out of the staring contest you were having with your latte. You looked up to find the tall man sliding himself into the booth, shoulder to shoulder with Dino. The massive grin on his face almost blinding you.
Dino nudged Mingyu hard on the shoulder. “Bro, what are you doing here?”
Here being halfway across town from where Mingyu lived.
“Basketball!” Mingyu beamed at the younger man, “I’m meeting the others at a court nearby! Won- FUCK!”
Chan dug his heel into Mingyu’s toe, keeping a smile on his face.
You jumped, startled by Mingyu’s sudden outburst. “Are you alright?”
“Dino just-,”
“He just hit is knee on the table,” Chan gave Mingyu a warning look as he pushed his foot down harder. “Long legs can be such a curse huh, bro?”
Mingyu pulled his foot away and glared at Chan.
You blinked at the odd behaviour from your friends.
Your eyes met Mingyu’s, you sent him a small smile before returning to stare at your latte.
Mingyu noticed the stark contrast from your usual bubbly self. From memory, you were the girl who offered him a cup of coffee when he dragged Wonwoo’s drunk ass home at 5AM in the morning. Mingyu remembered you pestering him to send you a text when he got home so that you would know he was safe. You, who was barely his shoulder height, were worried for a tall, muscular boy like him.
Mingyu looked at Chan and gestured towards the door. Chan nodded.
“Sorry y/n, I’m just gonna talk to Gyu about something.” Chan spoke gently.
“Male stuff.” Mingyu nodded as he slid out of the seat.
They were both pretty sure your soul wasn’t even in your body at the moment from how you blankly nodded.
Mingyu and Chan stood outside the cafe, making sure not to be in your line of sight.
Mingyu crossed his arms. “What happened?”
“You don’t know? Wonwoo didn’t tell you?”
“I’m seeing him for the first time today.” Mingyu explained. “He’s been refusing to leave the house.”
“He busy fucking other girls?” Chan sneered.
“I-,” Mingyu stopped, taken aback. “What?”
“Bro. Come on.”
“I genuinely have no idea what you are talking about.” Mingyu said as he held his hands up.
Chan stared at the taller man for a few seconds and sighed.
“Don’t tell anybody what I’m about to tell you.”
As you sat waiting for Chan, droplets of water began appearing on the table.
You furrowed your brows.
Was the ceiling leaking?
You looked up only to feel tears rolling down your cheeks.
You brought you hand up to your face.
Ah, you were crying.
The tears continued. Just like your memories of Wonwoo.
“God,” You muttered, reaching for a bunch of tissues. “I’m pathetic.”
“Why can’t it be me?” You whispered as sobs started leaving your mouth.
“Why am I so unlovable?”
You tried to be as silent as possible, covering your face with your hands.
That’s how Chan found you when he came back.
He quickly guided you home. Hoping to hell that Wonwoo would stub his toe against a particular hard piece of furniture.
Me and my truth (again)
Wonwoo watched Vernon argue with Soonyoung as they threw the ball back and forth, Jeonghan stood in between the two of them mediating the argument. He wasn’t sure what they were arguing about, for all he cared they could plotting a bank robbery.
He brought his eyes down to this palms. A small smile on his face as he remembered the first time you held his hand.
The two of you were rushing to catch the train. Back then he was still around your height and you were still much faster than him. He lagged behind you, huffing and puffing as you ran ahead. He stopped to catch his breath, bending over and placing his hands on his knees.
You had turned back to check on him. Once you were sure he was fine, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into another sprint. Flashing him a grin.
For the rest of the day his face was burning hot. When you asked him about it, he just blamed it on his poor stamina. He didn’t want to be that loser that got flustered when a girl touched him. He was. But at least he hoped he didn’t seem that way to you.
“JEON WONWOO!”
A red-faced Mingyu was storming towards him.
Mingyu grabbed Wonwoo by the collar and lifted him up from his sitting position.
Wonwoo blinked, “What-,”
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Mingyu snarled. “I thought you were in love with y/n?”
“I am! What on earth-,”
“Then why’d you sleep with another girl?” Mingyu bellowed, tightening his grip on Wonwoo’s collar.
Audible gasps could be heard from Soonyoung and Vernon as they abandoned their argument. Jeonghan’s eyes were as wide as saucers.
Not waiting for a reply, Mingyu pushed Wonwoo to the ground.
“It didn’t mean anything.” Wonwoo retorted, adjusting his glasses.
“Not to y/n it didn’t!” Mingyu fumed.
“I wanted to talk to her about it! She left before I could!” Wonwoo reasoned from his position on the ground.
“Did you ever try to reach her? Try to find her?” Mingyu fumed, “No! All you’ve been doing is rot at home while she’s crying everyday at Chan’s place!”
Wonwoo mouth fell open. You were crying?
“Mingyu that’s enough.” Jeonghan placed a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder, he had to stop this before it turned into a full blown fight.
“You better fix yourself,” Mingyu pointed a shaky finger at Wonwoo, “before you completely lose her.”
I’m still here hanging
After the event at the cafe, you decided you weren’t ready to leave the house. Or your room for that matter.
You gave Chan free reign over your door. He’d pop his head in and out of your room, sometimes leaving the door open even if all you were doing was lying on the floor. Chan would bring food into your room, trying to coax you into eating even if all you could manage was one or two spoonfuls.
Minghao came over more often, bringing with his snacks from China and various tea leaves.
“Let’s do some therapy!”
“What?”
“I read this thing online,” Minghao started, “it’s you burn all the stuff you have that reminds you of the person causing you pain.”
You stared at him like he’d grown a second head.
“According to Reddit, it works.” Minghao crossed his arms and nodded. He would do anything to try to get you to leave your room.
“Firstly, I’m not into trusting strangers on Reddit.” You turned back to the ceiling. “Secondly, burning things and the environment are a no-no for me.”
“Well, good to know you love the environment.” Minghao muttered as he sipped his tea.
A loud knock came from the front door.
“Were you expecting someone?” Minghao asked.
“No, you?”
“No.”
It was a relatively safe neighbourhood, but you never knew who would want to rob poor Lee Chan and his collection of electric shavers in the bathroom. Minghao picked up a frying pan and headed to the door.
“Who is it?” Minghao sang.
Hearing no answer, Minghao held up the frying pan with one hand and swung the door open with the other. He came face to face with Jeon Wonwoo.
Wonwoo eyes were wide. “Hao?”
Minghao didn’t lower the pan, maybe he should whack the boy. Sure, Chan’s collections of razors were safe, but you weren’t.
“I come in peace I swear.” Wonwoo held up his hand.
“Debatable.” Minghao muttered, “Why are you here?”
“Is y/n here?” Wonwoo got straight to the point.
“What if she is?”
“I just need to talk to her.”
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Minghao crossed his arms.
“Please,” Wonwoo was not above begging when it came to you. “If you’d just let me explain to her-,”
“Hao?” Wonwoo’s ears immediately perked up at your voice. “Who is it?”
“Please.” Wonwoo whispered.
Minghao stared at Wonwoo for what seemed like ages before letting out a sigh.
“30 minutes.”
“Thank you!” Wonwoo’s lips stretched into a grin.
“But if I hear anything I don’t like, I’m coming straight back in with this pan.”
It’s something like a daydream
“Hao?”
You sat up when you didn’t hear a reply from your friend. Was he murdered by the robbers? You knew Chan’s collection of razors were well sought after but you didn’t expect people were willing to kill for it.
Wrapping yourself up in a blanket, you stepped out of your room.
“Hao?” You called out again, making your way towards the living room.
Instead of Minghao, there was a familiar boy in the living room.
You froze.
“Wonwoo.” You whispered.
“Y/n.” Wonwoo breathed.
You were both relieved and anxious. Relieved because it wasn’t some random stranger, anxious because it was Wonwoo.
You cleared your throat. “Where’s Hao?”
“In the hallway,” Wonwoo answered.
“Oh.”
“Can we talk?” Wonwoo said, sounding almost hopeful.
“Sure.”
You made no move to the couch or towards him. You remained standing in the hallway. Partially because you didn’t expect him to stay long, partially because you didn’t trust yourself not to burst into tears.
Wonwoo’s shoulders fell when he realised you were just going to stand there. Just a year ago he was able to anticipate your every want and need. It was shameful that now he couldn’t get a read on what you were thinking or feeling.
Wonwoo took a deep breath and began.
“I’m sorry for treating you the way I did. You shouldn’t have to come and pick me up when I’m drunk at a party.” He paused and waited for your reply.
When nothing came he continued. “I’m so sorry for not speaking to you at home or in school. It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings. I just didn’t know how to face you after-,” Wonwoo’s face turned red. “-after kissing you.”
“The night that I brought a girl home.”
You stiffened.
“I swear I wasn’t in my right mind. I was drunk and I don’t remember anything from the night before. I promise it didn’t mean anything, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings.”
Wonwoo eyes searched your face, “Please, y/n, you have to believe me.”
After a long period of silence, you finally spoke.
“It’s fine Wonwoo, you don’t have to apologise.”
Your voice was devoid of emotion.
It wasn’t Wonwoo’s fault you couldn’t control your feelings. You were just unlucky to have fallen for him.
Wonwoo blinked.
“If that’s all you came to say,” You forced a smile before turning back towards your room. “I’m really tired so if you could please leave.”
“No, wait!” Wonwoo closed the distance between the two of you.
He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him. You were so shocked you dropped your blanket to the ground. You were basically nose to nose with Wonwoo right now.
“Please.” He begged, “Please come back home.”
“Wonwoo,” You whispered, tears threatening to slip out of your eyes. “I don’t think I can live with you anymore.”
The way he was holding you, the way he was speaking to you. The false hope that grew in your heart every time Wonwoo gave you the time of day. This was the reason why you couldn’t live with him anymore.
It hurts to know he would never love you the way you loved him.
It hurts to know you would never be enough for him.
“Wonwoo-,” your voice broke, fresh tears started rolling down your cheeks.
“Y/n, please,” Wonwoo begged, “tell me what I can do to make you come home.”
“Wonwoo, I-,”
“Please, y/n.”
“I can’t go with you because I’m in love with you.”
“I-,” Wonwoo paused, “What?”
“I know you don’t see me that way and that’s completely fine.” You blubbered, “Just please don’t make me live with you. I can’t go through that again-,”
Wonwoo kissed you. Completely sober this time.
He pulled back to look at you.
Your eyes were wide, still sniffling from crying.
“I love you too.” He said, resting his forehead on yours as he stared into your eyes.
This was the best day of his life.
“What?” You whispered in disbelief, was this some sort of cruel joke?
“Been in love with you since the day you sat with me in school.” He confirmed.
“But Wonwoo, that was the first day you met me.” You said softly, as Wonwoo used his thumb to wipe away your tears.
“I guess it is.” He whispered. “I’ve loved you since day one.”
“Are you kidding me?” You said in mock annoyance. “If you had told me sooner, we wouldn’t have to go through all this.”
Wonwoo didn’t really care about all that, right now he was just happy to have you in his arms again, the fact that you loved him back made the moment all so much sweeter.
“I can tell you again.” Wonwoo suggested with a nod.
He began peppering kisses all over your face. With each kiss he’d stare into your eyes and very seriously say “I love you” before moving onto another site.
You giggled at Wonwoo’s silly antiques.
When he had finally decided you had enough of his love, he tried again.
“Please come home.”
You eyed him hesitantly.
“Y/n, I will personally pack all your stuff up here and bring it over. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
You gave him a real genuine smile. “Of course I’ll move back with you.”
Wonwoo’s face lit up, he looked like a kid who’s Christmas came early.
“Ok guys, I’m coming back in!” Minghao’s voice came from the other side of the door. “I swear if you guys are doing any hanky panky in there you two better stop it!”
You and Wonwoo exchanged amused looks before bursting out into laughter.
Wonwoo vowed to spend the rest of his life making up for all that he had done and for all the time you two had lost. He thanked whoever or whatever made you sit next to him that fateful day in high school. Most of all he’d spend his days showering you with love and affection until you physically and mentally couldn’t stand it anymore.
a/n: hope it wasn't too bad, was rushing cause i want to sleep soon. always open to comments and criticism!! 💗
#jeon wonwoo#wonu#seventeen wonwoo#seventeen jeon wonwoo#seventeen wonu#svt wonwoo#svt jeon wonwoo#svt wonu#wonwoo#wonwoo fic#wonu fic#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x y/n#wonwoo x you#wonu x reader#wonu x y/n#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo angst#jeon wonu#svt fanfic#svt fic#svt x reader#svt fluff#seventeen#svt#seventeen fic#svt imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff
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AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART I
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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.5k || ao3 || Part II -> coming soon! || masterlist ||
minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only
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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”
***
Suguru tries to tame you.
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✧ SPRING FEVER collab masterlist ✧
cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader if you squint, biting, blood, marking, eventual forced bathing in later parts, eventual forced feeding in later parts, eventual smut in later parts; masturbation, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?
a/n: this is for @lorelune 's SPRING FEVER collab!! i have been working on this for awhile now and i am excited to share it! this should be about 3 parts...i am very close to finishing the whole thing so i should be releasing a part a week for the next two weeks!
thank you for reading!! i would love to hear your thoughts <333
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“I think you’d be perfect.”
Suguru’s voice is a caress, low and soft, as he sits across from you.
Somehow, he always makes you feel like he is just beneath the surface of your skin, even if there is a respectable distance between you. He always makes you feel as if he is lurking somewhere in the lowest parts of you, pulling at strings you once thought hidden to yourself.
You’ve kept your distance for this reason.
You swallow hard.
And then you manage to get your voice to unstick, to find it somewhere inside of you and bring it to life. It’s firmer than you’re anticipating and you’re proud;
“I don’t think I would be.”
Suguru looks at you in a way that makes you feel as if he’s seeing through you, pulling you open slowly to gaze at all the inner workings of you. His dark eyes are keen, so sharp, even if they’re shaded by half-lidded lashes.
He smiles pleasantly and indulges you, but you know he believes very firmly that he is, in fact, right, “why not?”
“I told you when I agreed to join you—all I wanted in exchange for helping you, was to be an unbound Omega.” You force yourself to meet his eyes and to not get sucked into the dark tide of them.
“You asked for my protection.” He reminds you.
Your eyes flash this time, heated, a little spark that skitters to life inside of you.
“I didn’t—“
“Is that not what you’d call it?” Suguru asks, “when I interfered, every time, to be sure no other Alpha got to you? Or when I scented you to keep them away?”
Prickling warmth dots your cheeks, can feel at the back of your neck, too, the tips of your ears. You try a different tactic.
“I’m not a homemaker.”
His smile is soft, “I don’t want a homemaker.”
“I’m not obedient.” You counter again, as if you could dissuade Suguru Getou once he’s made up his mind.
“You’ve been quite good for me.” Suguru says smugly and this time, a little noise of embarrassment or frustration eeks out of you. A short, sharp little growl from your throat, almost a groan of irritation.
“I—I’m doing your dirty work. That’s our agreement! You give me assignments that I complete and in return, I get my freedom.”
“I don’t know why you’re so opposed to this. Is it not similar already to what we have now?” He asks simply, “I’d still let you roam, if that’s what you’re so scared of.”
“No it’s that—that power and mentality that I don’t want you to have over me.” You snap.
“I already have it,” he says and it isn’t intended to be cruel, but certainly is, “how long do you think you’d last, without the protection of an Alpha?”
“I didn’t have any before you.”
“You were starving, injured, and constantly on the run before me.” You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off, “it would still give you what you want.”
“I don’t want to be yours.” You say frankly, perhaps to be cruel yourself. And then you show teeth a little, flash them in warning, “I don’t want your mark.”
Suguru looks amused, if anything, by your display.
His smile is knowing and insufferable. It makes your anger ratchet up inside of you, hackles rising. You feel a little growl working its way out of your throat. It tears out of you in annoyance, when he says, “I don’t believe you.”
You slam the door so hard on its hinges that it rattles the entire wall. You wish it would rattle all the world.
***
Your cursed technique rips to life like a star exploding outwards.
Beast that you are, it overtakes you, transforms you until you are all claws and dripping, little fangs. Your body elongates, elegant, and built for speed, viciousness. The horns atop your head are sharp, too, curled the slightest into a crescent shape. The beast in you stretches and pulls at your bones, fits your skin to it in a way that you have come to know well.
(“Cursed technique: Cursed Creature,” Suguru hums, “allows you to turn into a cursed version of yourself, a sort of,” he pauses, looking you over, “monster?”
“That’s right.” You tell him, body trembling all over, in dire need of food. Care. Sleep.
He places a large hand on top of your head, strokes gently, until his hand nudges your cheek, beneath your chin so you are forced to look up into his eyes. Depthless violet.
“You have a deal.”)
The sorcerer is cast backward with the force of your transformation. In this form, everything heightens, sharpening into brilliance. So much brighter, clearer. So much more overwhelming.
You are a flash of darkness when you move, a mass of lethality.
The sorcerer doesn’t stand a chance, the moment you dash past him with a deep swipe of your claws, you know this will be an easy match. You chitter in this form, excited, warbly little sound erupting from you before you careen towards him again.
This time, he is warped away.
But you are fast, changing your trajectory mid-step to catch up to where he was warped.
Except, this time, a white haired sorcerer takes his place.
Your claws meet air.
A growling hiss erupts from your throat.
Satoru Gojo.
Suguru told you to stay away from him. At all costs.
And speak of the devil, your name is called, whistled almost. Your head turns to find Suguru appearing, too.
Faintly, the more human part of you wonders what the occasion is.
For a moment, all you can see is threat. Your hackles rise as your growling gets lower, more sinister, your form moving behind Gojo as if you might circle him, unable to let down your guard.
“Call off your pet,” Gojo says.
Suguru calls your name again and there’s something else in his tone now, a little sharper.
(Fear, you wonder faintly, in some far away part of your mind. Is he worried Gojo would hurt you?)
You come to heel at Suguru’s side, remaining in this form, making a low, threatening sound still. Warning. Your claws still drip with the blood of that sorcerer.
“Go,” Suguru says to you.
Your head snaps to look at him, eyes narrowing. “I’m not leaving,” you snap and the words have a bite to it, around the curves of your fangs. You look back at Gojo. If this comes to blows, you don’t want Suguru facing Gojo alone–you don’t want to leave his back suddenly unguarded.
It’s counterintuitive to you, goes against all of your instincts. You don’t leave him, you don’t leave his side, his back.
“Go,” Suguru says, harsher this time and the command seeps into you. You waver. And then, “I won’t tell you again.”
When you hiss at him in that warbling way of curses, he smiles faintly, almost fondly, as your teeth drip with venom. But you do listen to him this time.
And with your heightened hearing, you hear Gojo underneath his breath as you slink away;
“How interesting.”
***
When Suguru returns to you, he is unharmed.
You’d paced the length of the hallway outside of his room in the compound until you could have worn a hole into it.
Few would be brave enough to wait for Suguru outside his door.
When he arrives, he is mildly surprised to see you, before his expression melts into a sort of—smugness. A knowing glint to his eyes.
“Why would you send me away?” You snap.
“You could’ve gone in, you know, if it would’ve soothed you.” Suguru says instead, head nodding towards the door to his suite. “Would you like a key?”
You blanche, taking a half step back, “I don’t—“
It allows him to get to his door and open it. You’ve been here before, in the privacy of his suite, but now it feels strange. A little different. He holds the door open for you.
You glance at the threshold and feel as if you’re making an important decision.
“Come on,” he says smoothly and before you can think twice about it, you are being led inside, his hand drifting somewhere near your lower back. He never touches you, the feeling is a phantom one, the impression of it. You shiver a little.
But you round on him again, “why would you send me away?”
He doesn’t acknowledge you, instead he goes rifling in a drawer, digging around a little.
His suite is larger than others. The living room is open and attached is the kitchen. It’s all light wood, with tall windows that overlook the courtyard. You know, despite never being inside, that his bedroom is down the hall and to the left. The bathroom is across from it. You’ve sat many times on the floor of his living room with him, going over assignments, plans that he has, and what he’d like you to do.
When he finds what he’s looking for, he makes a soft noise, before turning to you with a small, gold key.
“I don’t want a key!” You snap.
“It’s a spare, take it just in case.” He replies and when you don’t move to grab it from him, he takes your hand in his much larger one, and opens your palm to him.
He places the key in your hand.
And then his eyes catch yours, “you were worried.”
“No-!” you get out, “I don’t like being—I’m supposed to protect you.”
Suguru smiles, hand still swallowing yours, “isn’t that sweet?” he remarks, “an Omega attempting to protect an Alpha.”
Immediately, you jerk away from him.
The key is still in your shaking fist.
“Don’t start,” you snarl, low and vicious and hurt, “I’ve always been the one at your side.”
“Yes,” he agrees, hand falling back down to his side listlessly. “I already told you that.”
You’ve always been at my side, he’d said, when he was trying to convince you to–
“That’s not what I meant!” Your voice rises without your consent and you feel an embarrassed, angry flush through your face for being so worked up. The room is thick with your worry and anger and frustration, all of your pent up energy like a knot in your chest, in your voice. It’s in your heart and the way you look at him.
“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” Suguru says easily, “it’s still the truth.”
When you slam the door this time, you hear something fall from the wall.
But the key is still in your trembling hand, digging indents into your palm, and your heart is still a beast in your chest.
And behind the closed door, Suguru Getou smiles fondly, and retrieves the fallen, shattered frame from the floor.
***
For a while, you avoid Suguru.
You stuff the key he gave you in your nightstand drawer, far in the back, in an attempt to keep it out of sight and out of your mind.
And at first, you think he is respecting your boundaries; you receive assignments through others from him. You see him only in passing and he never speaks directly to you. He hardly acknowledges you.
But after a week and a half, it begins to feel like punishment.
And the key is starting to burn and itch in your mind. You think about it at night, tossing over in your bed; you think about unlocking his door at this hour. What would you find? Would he be asleep? Awake? Alone? Fully dressed?
You think of him half bare and lounging, hair slipping over his shoulders, and the scent of sandalwood and fig. Tonka or something woodsy, maybe. You know it well and it lingers long after he leaves you.
You suddenly miss it, crave it.
Him.
You twist beneath your sheets.
Why did he have to–
You make a soft noise of frustration, turning over again.
You’re restless.
Something beneath your skin begins to itch and squirm.
Previously, Suguru had hardly mentioned your status as an Omega. He rarely acknowledged it; you were too brilliant of a sorcerer for him to care, you thought. You were too powerful. The only instance he brought it up was to scent you, a form of caution in a particular instance, for a particular mission. The memory still simmers in your mind, the way he’d rubbed the gland on your wrist with a careful thumb. He’d given you clothes of his to wear. He’d had you sit in his quarters for long hours, until it seemed as if you were his, in some way.
But now that he’s actually brought it up, offered you his bite, to be his, it paints him in an entirely different light.
Had he always…wanted you?
Was he always planning this?
The naive, desperate parts of you want to believe this is a recent thought of his. Previous to this, he only ever saw you as another sorcerer, a powerful one that aided him. You had always been one of the closer ones to him, at his heel, his beck and call.
You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought of Suguru this way; as an Alpha. An unmated one, who kept your company.
And he does, no matter how badly it burns to admit it, protect you.
You know he wards off Alphas.
You know he perhaps does more than even that.
But you don’t want—
You don’t want to be mated.
You don’t want to suddenly be coddled by him, held back, don’t want to be the little thing that keeps his bed warm.
Your face heats with the thought.
Images flash through your mind, flickering, melting together like film that bleeds and runs, of him overtop you. Shrouding you. His hair on your shoulders and back. You think of his mouth on your throat, teeth in your neck.
You rub at your eyes suddenly as if to clear them.
You know he leaves on a mission for a week in two days.
You assume, at some point, he’ll speak to you. And break this strange silence.
You’ll both return to normal then.
And then perhaps you won’t lose any more sleep over him.
***
Suguru never says goodbye to you.
It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does—you just figured he’d finally drop this silly little silence game.
You suppose he must’ve thought the same of you.
Besides, what were you expecting from him? An apology? It’s foolish to even entertain. You knew you weren’t going to apologize either. The least you’ll do, when he returns, is act as if all is normal again. Perhaps it’s better that way, not to address what he’s put in his head recently.
The more you speak of it, or think of it, the worse it unravels in your mind.
On the second day that he is gone, you realize you miss his scent.
You realize it has become such a staple in your everyday life that its sudden disappearance is almost alarming. It makes you more irritable, more vicious. You snap at the others faster, bite out insults and brutalities.
You—
Well, you miss it.
Him, maybe.
The admittance is a hard one to swallow around. It burns going down.
On the third day, you’re genuinely craving his scent in a way that makes your teeth ache. You had no idea you could even miss a scent like this, need it so bad that your body would betray you with a physical pain in your chest. Somewhere in your mouth, under your tongue.
You try to ignore it.
You go on with your life.
But by the fifth day, you are agitated and aggressive. Everyone knows something is wrong with you. You know something is wrong with you. You can feel it beneath your skin, crawling, squirming. It makes you want to tear out your hair, rip at your nails, or sink your teeth into something. You’re restless.
You can’t sleep.
You can hardly eat or think.
And as you lay awake in your bed, kicking at sheets, sweating and twisting, you know what it is you need.
You’ve known the whole week.
You throw back the covers and wrench open your bedside drawer.
The key rattles, hot, like it knows it’s finally about to be used. It’s musical sound a siren song, it’s been burning away in there the whole week.
You swipe it and turn sharply from your bedroom. From your own apartment.
It’s the middle of the night; not a soul sees you in the compound.
Like a person possessed, you walk. Your back is straight. Your steps are quick. Your mind is set, on fire.
Suguru’s door has haunted you the whole week.
The key in your hand digs into the flesh, carving it’s divots there like your hand might be the lock itself.
You try not to think about it–you unlock the door. You throw it open.
You shut it behind you, slide the lock back into place.
Darkness greets you.
You wander in like you know the place (you do, you do–)
You wander in like it’s yours to wander in.
Instantly, something loosens inside of you.
You exhale hard.
Inhale sharp.
The smell of him, fainter because he’s been gone, assaults your senses, sweeps over them. You take in a lungful like gasping for air, you smell faint traces of fig and sandalwood. Notes of tonka that you long for, that urge you to move deeper into his space.
In the dark, you make your way down the hall, towards his bedroom.
You haunt the arch for a moment.
Guilt or regret or embarrassment almost seize you. They make you pause.
Some sane part of you is clawing at your insides, wailing to turn around and leave. Leave now.
But he gave you a key.
He gave you a key, you think in circles, again and again. He gave me a key.
You cross the threshold.
You sink down into his bed and his scent is strongest here, even still, after several days it’s his.
You turn over the covers to get beneath them, cool sheets against your legs, sliding and smooth. You turn your face into his pillow and inhale.
A soft little groan works it’s way out of you.
Instantly, your muscles slacken.
Everything leeches from you; your anger and irritation and restlessness.
It soothes you so deeply and so swiftly it makes your head spin.
You curl beneath his blankets and take deep pulls of breath, squirming a moment if only to bring his scent tighter around you. You envelope yourself in it.You shroud yourself in it.
And finally, after five days of restless nights, you fall asleep almost instantly.
Not a single dream. Not one moment where you wake or stir.
You sleep deeply.
In the morning, the sun warms you through the broad windows like a content cat.
You stretch lazily like one, too.
Suguru will be home tomorrow.
You know you need to leave his bed, hope that your scent dissipates by the time he returns.
You didn’t do anything wrong, you know—he gave you a key.
He gave you a key.
But rather, you know he would never let you live it down. He would use it instantly, as ammunition for his argument, the debate that the two of you keep circling.
You don’t quite leave as quickly as you should still, though:
You linger.
You’re comfortable.
Calmed for the first time all week.
And when you do slip out, it’s silently, locking the door behind you.
Like maybe you won’t ever let yourself back in there, trying to shut it like it was a one time indulgence and gone now from your mind and body.
But his scent clings to you.
And little do you know, your scent clings to his sheets—and to Suguru, it’s sweet as can be and unmistakable—irreplaceable.
He collapses in his own bed when he returns and knows you’ve been all over it. He can smell the crush of dark berries, jasmine, the soothing note of vanilla that clings to you, that he’s come to adore.
He grins to himself and knows then, he’s got you right where he wants you.
***
For a moment, you think Suguru is going to make you be the bigger person and apologize upon his return.
Instead, he finds you.
And he doesn’t say he’s sorry for his recent behavior, but he does say;
“I’d prefer if you didn’t avoid me in the future.”
It feels like sorry enough.
And for some time, things return to a state of normal.
A version of it.
It isn’t quite like it was before—in fact, you seem to spend more time around him than previously. He calls on you more. He brings you into his space more frequently, often urging you to eat with him, beside him, at his table.
This is ideal for you. Close but not too close.
Although, he begins to ask, don’t you have your key? Can’t you let yourself in?
You say you haven’t used it.
He hums like he knows differently, but doesn’t press you.
Until finally he asks you to retrieve a notebook in his study and bring it to him.
Fetch, he says.
“It’s locked, isn’t it?”
“You have your key.” He answers simply, not looking up from the book he is reading.
For a moment, you almost protest, but something stops you. Maybe the twitch in his brow.
It’s a useless argument to pick, anyways.
You do have a key.
It would be fastest, easiest, to just use it.
So you do.
And you hand him the notebook he asked for, fingers brushing against his as he takes it from you with gentle hands.
“Thank you,” he adds, voice so smooth and low, almost tempting.
You swallow a little.
Then you quickly avert your gaze.
“Whatever,” you grouse, but he smiles fondly, amused.
And it opens another door, more than just the one to his suite.
***
Tentatively, you begin to come and go.
The first (second) time you use your key to enter without his order, he is careful not to react to you any differently than how he usually does.
His eyes brighten a little, though, like a leopard that’s caught something interesting in its sights and is waiting to see what it’ll do.
Still, you grow more comfortable entering his space on your own.
You claim portions of it; a corner of the couch. A particular cushion around his low table. All of the sunny patches in his suite become yours, scented with you, indented with you. More than that, some horrible, hidden part of you adores that your scent is all over his space.
It’s comforting to find it beside his scent.
It soothes a part of you that you don’t wish to admit to.
His hands grow bolder.
Now they’re always hovering at the small of your back, the nape of your neck. He tucks strands of your hair away from your face and though you jerk away from him, it’s often half-hearted. You snip at him and he only smiles.
Pleased. Smug. Knowing.
His hands guide you as you walk beside him.
You grow accustomed to his touch in some way—he makes sure of it.
Then, as if to prove something—
Another cult member begins to cause trouble with you; he is another Omega. He begins with snide comments and remarks that test your patience. He doesn’t stop until you are growling and bristled and ready for a fight.
And all it takes to stop you is Suguru’s large hand coming down on the nape of your neck.
His thumb rests atop one scent gland at your throat, fingertips pressing delicately into the one on the other side. Hand wrapped around the back of your neck.
“Easy,” he murmurs and just like that, you can feel some of your aggression slip from you, deflate like a balloon.
It’s involuntary, the energy and anger unspooling from your body in an instant. In the back of your mind, you’re alarmed; how easily it was for him to effect you. It’s terrifying.
You swat his hand away, lurching from him, another little growl in your throat.
But you don’t fight him or the look in his eyes, the way he tilts his chin up in the barest hint of dominance.
You storm off.
Instances as such continue to happen, though, where he’s able to sooth or quell your temperament with a touch. A word. A look.
It comes to a head while you’re eating dinner with him.
“You’re so wound up,” Suguru comments lightly, “your scent is so sharp with it. What’s bothering you?”
Reflexively, you snap, “you are.”
And it’s meant to be some sort of insult but Suguru’s lips twist into this hitched little smile. “It’s my fault you’re wound up?” He asks lightly.
“Don’t twist my words.” You respond, fixing him with a glare, “you bother me.”
He’s still deeply amused by this, you can tell by the twinkle in his eyes. The smug way he holds himself.
“Would you like me to help you?” He asks.
“No,” you say reflexively.
A beat of silence before he says, “come here. I’ll help you.”
There’s a command in his voice, laced there, and doing something strange to your head.
You hesitate.
He pounces, “just a massage.” He soothes, “I can tell your shoulders are knotted up and tense. I can see it.”
His voice has dropped into that soothing lull.
Warily, “away from my glands?”
He smiles, “of course.” And then, “come here.”
Your body moves easily now and he murmurs, “sit in front of me. Back to me—there, that’s it.”
It feels more vulnerable than it should to show your back to him, to sit in front of him like a child to their mother. You try to keep your posture straight and careful.
But then he sets large, warm hands to your shoulders. His fingers dig into the meat of them gently, pressing into your muscles which spasm and twitch in pain. You yelp, jerking away.
Suguru tsks, “see how tense you are? You’re in pain.” He scolds softly and you feel heat smart across your face, “sit still for me. I’ll be gentler.”
True to his word, he eases up, fingers careful as they run into your tense muscles.
He finds bundles of twisted up tension in your back and shoulders, pressing into them until a noise springs from you—a groan, a whimper, a little growl. He works the sounds out of you. You swear he’s doing it deliberately and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was all just to humiliate you a little.
But you finally loosen and slacken for him.
When you finally sink into his hands, he murmurs, “I don’t know why you fight this so badly.”
You let go of a heavy sigh, “you do know why. Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”
“Because you’re stubborn?” Suguru asks lightly and you snort, despite yourself, “because you don’t know what’s good for you?”
“You’re no good for me.” You respond.
Suguru’s turn to sigh and if he digs his fingers in to make you yip in pain, he’d never say it was purposeful.
“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”
Reflexively, you jerk away from his touch, you turn to look at him over your shoulder with a sneer.
“I’m not a pet.”
Suguru does not heed your warning and instead gently pulls you back towards him by your waist.
“No?” He asks lightly, fingers resuming their steady massage. You go completely still like prey, unsure, wary. Angry. Humiliated. “It’s not a bad thing to be a pet. You’re thinking about it all wrong.”
His fingers ease up towards your neck and you stiffen again.
“Suguru,” you say in warning as he nears your scent glands. Perhaps to what he’s said.
“You’re my pet now,” he continues, “though you don’t like to admit it. It’s not so bad, is it?”
Stubbornly, you don’t answer him.
But after a moment, you say, “if I’m already yours, why do you need this last bit of me? If you already see me as your pet, why do you want me so terribly, in this way—“
Suguru suddenly pulls you back deeper, into his lap, against his chest.
You squirm, but he holds you tight, hooks his chin over your shoulder.
Alarm bells ring frantically in your head now that he’s so close to the glands in your throat.
“Don’t play dumb,” Suguru muses, half-mocking, “it doesn’t suit you.”
“Let me go,” you snarl low and hot.
“What are you scared of?” Suguru responds, “that I’d trap you? If you’d take my Bite, I’d let you roam further than I do now. You’d be safe.”
“Liar,” you hiss, “I’m not dumb.”
“I’m not trying to stifle you, I’m trying to set you free.” Suguru almost purrs and his voice is warm and low and creeping up over your spine and trying to find its way inside you.
You begin to squirm this time, thrashing in his hold until you manage to wriggle free, falling forward onto your hands and knees.
Instinctively, you turn to keep your back protected, scrambling away from him. You bare your teeth at him.
“I don’t believe you.”
He watches this show of aggression with amusement, tilting his head slightly. And then he sighs, “I don’t think anything I say will convince you at this point.”
You narrow your eyes at the tone. Your hackles rise.
In an instant, he has grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you back to him.
Underneath him.
You shove hard at him, twisting and fighting as he settles himself over you.
You realize how solid he is, how strong, and large. He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Suguru,” you hiss at him, pushing as hard as you can on his chest.
“See how easy it was for me to subdue you?” He says then, voice smooth and low. “If I wanted to take you, I simply would’ve already. You’re no challenge to me; if I wanted to trap you, I would’ve.”
“Get off me!”
You thrash hard beneath him and in an instant, he has your hands uselessly pinned above your head, stretching you out beneath him.
His nose dips, near the scent gland at your throat. You squirm.
He squeezes your wrists, “stop squirming.” He murmurs low, “or my instinct will be to bite.”
Your stomach does a horrible flip, a flutter of—fear, excitement.
“Just—get off—leave me alone!” You get out, voice high and tight. You try not to arch away from the way he lets his face fall to the crook of your neck.
“Hush,” Suguru hisses, nudging his nose beneath your ear.
He’s scenting you.
He’s done this before and despite everything in you, you finally go slack. You force yourself not to tilt your head or offer up more, rather let him urge you into the way that he prefers.
He nudges his cheek and nose against your jaw. He lets out a relieved breath, fitting more of his body to you and you feel the push of chest into yours, his hips.
You squirm a little and a growl erupts from his throat.
You fight back the sound that almost works its way out of you now, swallow around it.
When he’s finished, he asks, “would you like to scent me?” And instinctively, you want to say yes, but you temper yourself. Then he adds, “I’m sending you away on a mission alone. I’ll be scenting you until the day you leave now.”
You catch his eyes, glinting.
“So, I thought it only fair if you’d like to scent me, too.”
You don’t know why, but something squirms inside of you, something a little hurt.
“You’re sending me away?”
Suguru hums softly, “I need you to take care of something for me. I only trust you to do it.”
You flex your hands a little in his hold, but he doesn’t budge.
He nudges at your jaw again, gentle, and murmurs, “this would be easier if you’d take my mark.”
You turn your head then to shield your throat, and face him. His nose nearly brushes yours and you look up at him through your lashes. You bite your tongue from any further complaints, dipping down to the crux of his throat now.
Easily, perhaps eagerly, he bares his throat for you.
Satisfaction erupts beneath your skin as his scent washes over you, dark fig and oud, sandalwood and musk. Carefully, your nose runs along the column of his throat.
“I’m not even—“ you huff, retry, “I haven’t had a Heat in—it wouldn’t take, anyways.”
“Ah,” Suguru says and you wish you hadn’t told him at all. Realization dawns over his features the way a cat might realize it’s caught its mouse beneath its paws. “Is this what you’re so scared of?”
“No—I prefer it this way. It’s another reason that you can’t. It wouldn’t work.” You say stubbornly and perhaps in your irritation, you burrow further down into the crook of his neck, tuck your cheek to his skin to nudge.
“I could give you a temporary one,” he murmurs, “I’d let you do the same in return, of course.”
You go quiet, brushing your lips against his skin, hesitating.
“I don’t need it.” You finally decide, even as you let the blunt side of a tooth nick gently against his neck. “I can protect myself.” You pull away to look at him again, “am I not one of your strongest?”
“You are my strongest.” He agrees, he praises. “But am I not also strong?” He asks, “and yet you still insist on protecting me.”
You open your mouth to protest, but he takes your chin in hand suddenly, words dying before they can escape.
“You are my strongest.” He says, “I would like the world to be aware of it.”
“I told you, I don’t want to be yours–”
“Then stop protecting me. Flee. Run away and never return.” Suddenly, his touch, his body, all of him is gone. He rolls off of you and onto his back beside you. Cold air sweeps in. You can feel his touch like burning imprints on your skin.
You turn your head to the side to look at him.
“You would hunt me down if I ran.”
A flicker of a smile ghosts his face.
“And if I ran from you?” He asks, “if I discarded you?”
Something twists so viciously and sharply in your chest that your eyes sting with it. You lock your jaw tight. You stare up at the ceiling.
“You refuse to speak but your scent is spiced with distress, sour with despair.” He turns to look at you, “not so easy to hear, is it?”
“I can’t stand you or your games.” You get out.
“There are no games.” He says evenly, “only the one you’re playing with yourself.”
You scoff, “which is?”
He sits up slightly, over you, looking down at you, the inky silk of his dark hair sliding over one shoulder.
“Seeing how long you can outrun what you want.”
You exhale roughly, in exasperation, and then you ask dryly, “and what do I want, Suguru?”
“To be taken care of.”
“I don’t need–”
He cuts off your growl before it can start, taking your chin in hand to turn your head towards him once more. “You never have, but it doesn’t mean you can’t want it.”
“I don’t want it either.” You snap. “You have some grand delusion of me in your mind that I am some weak, submissive creature in need of your care.”
“I’ve said none of that, have I?” He hums. “Now you’re twisting my words, being purposefully churlish–in hopes of, what? To scare me off?”
His palm opens up against your jaw, your cheek. His thumb touches your bottom lip.
“You snap and you snarl and posture as some ferocious, independent creature to scare everyone off. I don’t blame you–I am certain you protected yourself many times this way from lesser people.” His voice is soft, almost a lull, you allow his palm to open against your lips, to turn your face into the cup of his hands. “You don’t believe anyone can handle you and you hope if you bite hard enough, tear into them, they’ll run off. And then you’ll feel vindicated; you were right, you are too much to handle. You were right, you are a monster. You’re unworthy of care or companionship or protection.”
His hand moves upward, baring his wrist to your mouth now, “go on,” he encourages, “bite me. As hard as you like. Scream and cry and tear into me. Loathe me and scorn me.” He leans closer, over you, as he hushes like a mother to their child, “I’ll still be here, with the rings of your teeth marks littered in my skin. I’ll be the only one, bruised and bloody, still taking care of you–no matter how badly you fight me.”
Out of anger or frustration or something else entirely, tears prick your eyes. As if to hide them, you open your mouth against his wrist, gentle first–warm and soft lips and tongue. He looks enraptured. He looks starving.
You sink your teeth into his skin viciously.
He hisses in pain, sharp, but doesn’t pull away. “There,” he coos, leaning over you, sinking into the pain, “is that what you wanted?”
Blood bursts into your mouth in a way that is almost startling, sharp and metallic. It should be gross and horrible and–you whine a little, somewhere in the back of your throat and bear down harder.
If that’s what he promises, you’ll make him prove it.
If he wants to be the one beside you, you’ll make him pay.
He leans down to kiss at your cheeks, gentle, humming. You realize there are tears. Your jaw aches.
But you don’t let go and he doesn’t even flinch.
“Does that feel better? To get your teeth into someone who isn’t scared of you?” He murmurs, nudging at your tense jaw, kissing there. “Shall I do the same to you?”
You release his wrist and shove him off, hard enough that he gives and he goes.
You stand up and storm out of his chambers, slamming the door on its hinges as hard as you can. You hope it knocks over every painting on his walls. You hope the entire compound somehow hears it. You hope it breaks something in the same way that something has been broken open inside of you.
You wipe his blood from your mouth with the back of your hand.
Suguru doesn’t even bandage the wound. And he wears his sleeves high, so that all the world might see it.
#suguru getou x reader#suguru geto x reader#getou suguru x reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru getou x you#getou suguru x you#suguru geto x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#cw: omegaverse#cw: yandere#cielo writes!#cielo's writing!
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congrats on 700 followers!!! ⭐️ for your celly, a blurb with prompt #1 with gabe perreault and any girl oc!!
long day cuddles
gabe perreault x fem!reader
after a long day, all gabe wants to do is crawl into his girlfriend's bed
0.5k words
gabeeee i love him so much. i think a gabe au is on the way at some point in the future! writing him is so much fun, i hope you like this requested blurb :)
700 celly masterlist
you were the only thing on gabe’s mind as he finished up with classes for the day. he trudged his way towards your dorm with the only thing he wanted was to crawl into your bed and fall asleep. finals drained everything out of him, especially since he had so much studying to catch up on after missing class due to being at the frozen four. he knew he needed a break though and you were the perfect pit stop before the library where he’d drown himself in his textbooks for the rest of the night.
he typed a quick message to you to let you know he would be at your dorm in five minutes so you could let him in. you responded almost immediately saying you would head down. gabe couldn’t fight the smile creeping onto his lips knowing he got to see you in 50 steps. it was hard to find time together with your busy schedules, so the boy was grateful both of you had some free time.
he could see you standing by the door as he got closer, your own smile painting your lips when you spotted your boyfriend coming. gabe widened his stride to cut the walk down, scooping you into his arms as soon as he was close enough.
“hi baby,” you smiled into his shoulder.
“hi, so good to see you,” the dark-haired boy pecked your lips before leading him inside.
his fingers intertwined with yours while you waited for the elevator to come back down. “how was class?” your eyes found his again.
“it was fine. just tired is all,” the boy mumbled. you squeezed his hand tighter knowing how much studying he’s been doing to make up for the days he missed last week.
you rode up to your room in comfortable silence and as soon as you opened up the door, gabe’s backpack was on the ground, shoes off, and he climbed into your bed without much warning. he snuggled himself into the covers while you giggled as his behavior.
“tired much?” you laughed, kicking your own shoes off to join the sleepy hockey player.
“i told you,” gabe mumbled. he reached out for you, bringing you to lay on his chest as you got yourself comfortable beside him.
“how’s studying?” you brushed his loose curls away from his forehead.
“fine. feels like i missed a whole semester with how much i’m trying to teach myself,” gabe frowned.
“i mean, you did kind of miss a lot of class for games. i can always help you too,” you grinned, always glad to help your boyfriend study (as long as he didn’t distract both of you whenever you did study together).
“i know. i hate asking you though knowing you have a lot to study for too,” he always made sure he put you first. you rolled your eyes a bit.
“you should know that i’m weeks ahead already. maybe we can go to the library after a bit?” you suggested.
“sounds perfect,” gabe pulled you closer, wanting to lay in your bed for as long as he could.
#gabe perreault#gabe perreault x reader#gabe perreault x you#gabe perreault x y/n#boston college#boston college hockey#gabe perreault fluff#gabe perreault imagines#bc eagles#bc hockey#gabe perreault x fem!reader#peachhcs 700 celly!
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roller skating with him.
₊˚ ᗢ kazuha x gn!reader, modern au.
⤷ what is it like roller skating with him?
When Childe came up to the two of you after classes, saying that he rented out an entire rink for a party, you didn’t think that the blond-haired man would so eagerly agree. He’s never roller skated before but was more than willing to try it out. Besides, when he grabbed your waist, pulling you close to him, he said that it might be fun to hang out with your friends. You couldn’t say no to him at that point.
Showing up at a local skating rink, you weren’t entirely surprised to see that the rink was empty aside from a large number of your friends. Lumine and Aether were the first to arrive and had already skated around, the two of them sitting at a nearby table chatting with others. Kazuha led you to get your skates and the two of you put yours on together. He even crouched down to help you tie your laces. How sweet.
You had almost fallen forward if it wasn’t for Kazuha standing in front of you, holding you still. He pressed a light kiss to your forehead, telling you not to be nervous. He takes your hand and leads you to the skating rink. He was gracefully weaving through the crowd while you struggled not bumping into someone. Graceful as the wind, you thought to yourself.
Holding hands with someone while skating is possibly the worst idea. When Venti bumps into Kazuha he ends up falling over, taking you down with him as the musician laughed and stuck his tongue out, saying “ehe.” Nevertheless, Kazuha would help you stand up and continue pulling you along for the ride.
You had to admit though that while he has never skated before, he seemed a natural at it. It made you wonder if he was just as good with ice skating as he is rollerblading. He would sway side to side to the music, looking over his shoulder to see if you were alright at the pace he was going at. He wasn’t the type of person to skate slowly, nor was he extremely fast like Xiao. He just liked to stay by your side.
If you were to tell him that you wanted to see him skate a little faster, he wouldn’t mind it. He also wouldn’t mind it if he ended up joining a race with the other boys to see who was faster. When Venti, Heizou, Xiao, and Aether lined up at the end of the rink, with you on the sidelines cheering for Kazuha, there was no way he could lose to the likes of them. For someone depicted as soft and calm, he could be competitive at times. It’s a bit dorky, but you’ve always liked that side of him.
He finished right after Xiao despite never having roller skated in his life. The shorter boy scoffed and rolled his eyes as they both shook hands. Venti showed up right after Aether and crashed into all of them. They let out a small grown at the childish antics, yet despite the bruises forming on his tailbone, Kazuha got up and skated to you, giving you a soft kiss.
“Did you see that, dove?” He whispered, “I was very close to beating Xiao but I was a little distracted by the sight of you. Your cheers did me a great favor.”
#₊˚ ᗢ kirimoochi#genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#kazuha#kazuha kaedehara#kazuha kaedehara x reader#kazuha x reader#genshin headcanons
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WAS I FOOLIN MYSELF | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [5]
Description: The THREE times you can't have him no matter how much you want to
Length. 15.2k
warnings: angst, spencer's addiction mentioned, gory cm cases (medical trauma, removing limbs, human marionettes etc) explosion, broken arm and surgery, slight lemon at end but not actually written just described aftermath, Maeve arc (I'm so sorry), guns, almost dying, blood, general cm warnings, anything else let me know!
previous chpt | next chpt
Authors note; I will edit in the morning I just really wanted you all to have the next chapter as promised!!
'I'ma strike these matches, never had control,
I'm ready to let go, no, was I fooling myself?'
The one with the wedding
JJ’s ears were ringing, a high pitched whine like a radio skipping between stations searching for a signal, and she felt the hard concrete against her milky skin before the throbbing in her forehead hit.
“JJ, are you alright?” There were hands at her shoulders, patting her down for fractures, not wanting to move her if her spine had been hit, and it wasn’t until she rolled herself over, eyes frantic and in shock that she saw Morgan.
“Where’s Will? Where’s Bugsy?” She asked, the words blurring into one word. Her legs were struggling to a stand before she could think too much about the concussion she almost definitely had, giving Morgan a quick once over, “Did they get out of there?”
But she hadn’t seen any movement before the blast had shot them back ten feet to the floor. Had only seen the back of the youngest Prentiss woman’s head as she rushed into the building to get emergency medical care to her partner.
“Where’s Emily?” Morgan added, and the two of them realised they were missing perhaps three of the most important people to them with no sign of life from any of them.
It didn’t take much for JJ to take off bolting into where the bank’s entrance had crumbled to the floor, where the dust hadn’t even settled and they didn’t know whether there was a second set of bombs waiting for them. They didn’t know anything.
And it was for that reason JJ dipped straight into the wall of smoke, hand tight on her gun as she went to look for survivors.
Morgan and Hotch were hot on her heels, a dozen firefighters and medical in tow, a similar face of dread in their expressions.
Aaron’s heart was in his throat when they entered the building, the west facing wall almost entirely in smithereens on the floor. The dust choked him the second they ran in, and he coughed before he could even get a word out, hand flying over his mouth to try give himself some kind of filter to the air.
“Bugsy!” He yelled as loud as his dry vocal chords would allow, “Bugsy, give us a signal,”
Nothing. Nothing but the sound of JJ and Morgan screaming for Will and Emily just as loud. And even to that they received no answer.
It wasn’t until they got close enough to the rubble and began seeing the bodies did Aaron start to fear the worst. He called her name again, her real name, splitting up from the rest of his team because it was no longer a mission for the UnSubs, it was now a search and rescue.
He crouched to press his fingers against a woman’s throat, stomach flipping when he felt no pulse beneath them, before he moved onto another one, his eyes darting between the chunks of brick and ceiling to see if he could spot anything that looked like an FBI jacket.
It wasn’t until he found one of the men donned in a SWAT uniform, his gun long since dropped to the tiles that he knew he must be close. It was one of the guys who had gone into the buildings seconds before her.
He felt for a familiar thrum of a heartbeat, his breath thick in his throat when he managed to get a slow and steady thump, and he immediately began signalling for medical attention.
Paramedics came running over with a stretcher between them, but Aaron wasn’t finished, Not until he saw her.
He dodged around the large chunk of stone that piled in the centre of the room, cringing when he saw a splatter of blood on the tiles in front of him, and it was only when he saw a hand splayed out on the floor did his heart truly stop.
His cold eyes were wet with fear as he traced the hand up its arm, the familiar blue he wore himself ripped to shreds, the skin beneath it broken and the bone snapped clean in two. He could barely make out the three letters, F. B. I. that were so covered in blood and dirt it almost matched the navy, before he got the pillow of familiar hair matted against a head that faced away from him.
But it was her. There was no doubt about it.
He thinks he said her name, but it might just have been a sob, because he fell to his knees quickly, scrambling to get to her face to see if she would respond to him at all.
“Bugsy, I need you to wake up,” He ordered, though it sounded like a hiss of pain, his rough hands finding her young face, desperate for any movement behind her eyelids, “Come on, sweetheart, just tell me what day it is,”
Years of training on what to do in a crisis and the correct first aid to give to someone unresponsive flew out of his brain, leaving behind bits and pieces like getting her to talk to see whether she had severed anything in that big, amazing brain of hers that had so much promise.
He leaned his ear down next to her nose, looking down the front of her chest to check for any signs of breath.
This was too similar to what Foyet had done with Haley, like a horrid deja-vu he wouldn’t wish even on their worst UnSub. He had been too slow, too stubborn, too stupid to stop her from getting hurt. He didn’t know what her blood on his hands would feel like, didn’t know if he would ever sleep again knowing he had gotten her killed.
Aaron’s stomach flipped when he saw her ribs rising slowly beneath her vest, her breaths cold against his earlobe.
“Guess it’s my turn to come back from the dead, huh?” A croaking whisper came softly, and he flicked his head around so fast he thought he might have whiplash.
But her eyes were open, squinting and tired, and he cursed the fact he had only then noticed the cut on her forehead, red ichor pumping fast and restlessly down the side of her face.
He gave a breathless laugh, though it pained his own ringing ear to do so, stroking gently down her face with the same care he would put Jack to bed with.
“Gotcha,” She smiled up at him sheepishly, her brows furrowing when she seemed then to notice the tears rolling down the tip of his nose, “Aaron Hotchner crying over me, are pigs flying today?”
He chuckled wetly, and his eyes were the warmest brown she’d ever seen them when he looked down at her. He turned his attention away for a second to call over medical, his eyes landing on Emily who was also frantically scanning the wreckage for her sister and giving her a sign too.
“You gave us quite a scare there,” Aaron said softly, because judging by the bump on her head, and the way blood was pooling in her ears, he guessed her eardrums had been damaged in the blast. Emily was over to them in seconds, looking dishevelled herself, and she gasped into her hands when she saw her sister’s fragile form.
“Bugsy- oh my god your arm,”
The girl’s face dropped, eyes widening as she tried turning to see the damage but Aaron was faster, quickly blocking her view of the mangled mess of skin with hand over the side of her head.
“What’s wrong with my arm?” She asked, and he saw nothing but his son with a scraped knee in her eyes when she looked up at him vulnerably. Emily fell to her knees next to her, taking over from Aaron by stroking her sister’s cheek, because if her adrenaline rose too much, then the numbness of the shock would wear off and she would feel it all.
“I think it’s broken, but the paramedics are going to fix you right up, I promise,” Emily cooed, though she felt herself go a little white at the sight of her sister’s bones so mangled and in pieces.
Aaron looked up when he heard Morgan calling his name, spotting the paramedic team navigating their way back to where the three of them sat, and he waved his hand up to let them know where they were.
He bit his tongue, looking down at where Bugsy was clearly starting to wake up more to just how bad of a state she was in, and she watched him woefully be torn between helping the rest of his team or staying with her.
“You guys can go, I’m no use on the case anymore,” She said, despite the fact she was terrified of what might happen if they left her alone.
“Are you crazy, absolutely not-,” Emily was cut off when two EMT’s rounded the block of concrete and brick that had missed her by a few inches when it had fallen, a stretcher and med packs at their side.
“Good to see you’re responsive, Agent Prentiss,” One of the EMT’s commented, opening his case up to retrieve a neck brace and a splint for her arm before they could move her to the stretcher. Bugsy smiled up at them, though she knew it looked like a wince, taking one more look at her sister and then at Hotch, both of whom looked stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“Go, I’m serious. Will needs you,” She said, feeling Emily squeeze her hand gently, pressing a kiss to her hairline, looking down at her in worry, “Go, Emily. Just bring me pudding when you get to the hospital- no Jello-”
She hissed when the paramedics slipped the brace over her shoulders, strapping her head into place to stop her doing any more damage to her spine.
Emily nodded, and her and Hotch took off round the corner to where Morgan was calling them, and Bugsy let the paramedics fuss over her some more, taking the pain killers without a second glance once she realised just how broken Emily had meant when she saw her arm.
It got hazy from there, until she felt the sun on her face and she felt a hand grab her good side. Her eyes were rolling with the fact she was fighting off sleep, or maybe she really had lost more blood than she thought. Either way she managed to flick her eyes open enough to meet hazel hues, distraught and worried, heard a familiar voice calling her name sadly, but she was too far gone by then. Her eyes shut despite her fighting them, and she was wheeled into the back of an ambulance by the friendly EMT’s, and the doors shut before her medicated brain could even recognise the voice as Spencer.
She was asleep before she could protest to it.
–
The air smelled like bleach- no, like floor cleaner had been drenched all around her, like she had been dropped into a janitor's closet and spilled every bottle over on her way in.
Her body felt stiff, and she frowned when she felt cramp in her fingertips, pain shooting up her wrist the second she tried to move them. Her eyes opened blearily, and she groaned in protest at the overhead white lights, burying her face into the scratchy sheet that covered her body. Only then did it click that she was in a hospital.
She moaned again when she tried moving her legs and her whole body protested, her bare legs rubbing against the paper like material in a way that made her cringe, and she felt only the hospital gown and underwear on her body.
“You’re awake,” The voice startled her, and she realised she hadn’t even heard the door open in her haze. Spencer stood in the doorway, three big bunches of flowers and two teddies in his arms, one of them holding a sign saying ‘You’re bear-y brave!’
What got her was the look of worry in his eyes when he took her in head to toe, his eyes lingering on the bright pink cast on her lower arm up past her elbow.
She grimaced, following his eyes to the horror, “Sexy,”
He rushed over to her bedside, all but throwing the flowers and cuddly toys on the space where her legs weren’t curled up under the sheets, pausing for a second to assess the situation.
“Spencer, you didn’t need to get me all of this,” Bugsy said, her cheeks warming when she saw her favourite flowers right at the end of the bed, blooming right in her direction, “Is everyone okay? Is Will okay?”
He nodded, but had yet to say anything, and he fiddled with his fingertips the way he did when he was struggling to get his point across properly. She reached out with her functioning hand to take them in hers, because she hated when he wouldn’t talk to her.
“Spencer, I’m fine, it’s just a broken arm, right?” The woman asked, trying to shuffle herself into a sitting position only to yelp when her side burst into pain. He rushed to put his arm behind her back, to get her to lay back down without putting too much pressure on her sternum, “What the fuck is that? I feel like I got hit by a baseball bat,”
“That’s what happens when you run blindly into a building without waiting for backup,” Spencer said, an undertone to his words she had never heard from him before, “Two cracked ribs; you’re lucky your lungs are still intact,”
Shit.
“Anything else?” She asked, a grim look on her face as his expression soured.
“Almost tore one of your eardrums, moderate concussion. They had to put pins in your arm to fix the fracture, it was transverse before you ask, lacerations to your legs from the glass, and some shrapnel they pulled out while you were in surgery.” Spencer listed, propping a pillow behind her head for her to rest against more comfortably though he still seemed annoyed, “No biggy,”
She paused for a second, watching him like a scolded child, her lips pulling down slightly, “Are you upset with me?”
He sighed, running a gentle hand over her leg that was covered by the thin sheet, and she felt the sting of cuts on her skin just like he’d said.
“I’m not annoyed, I could never be annoyed with you; you just-” He huffed, looking up at her sad eyes and feeling his resolve crumbling immediately, “You can’t just throw yourself in the way of danger, you have people who care about you, people who love you,”
She bristled for a second, looking into her lap and chewing the inside of her lip worriedly, “I just wanted to help Will, I just didn’t want JJ and Henry to lose him the way I thought I lost Emily,”
Spencer’s heart sank, and any telling off he was going to give her for worrying him left him in seconds, and he forgave her embarrassingly fast.
Taking her hand back in his gently and scooching a chair closer to the bed so he could sit with her, he looked up at her with the sweet, puppy eyes she had always loved on him.
“I know, I know you just wanted to help,” He hushed her, using his other hand to stroke her hair behind her ear, “Next time just… wait for your lucky charm, remember?”
She smiled brilliantly, and he almost could ignore the butterfly stitching on her forehead or the bright pink cast on her arm, or the fact her clothes had looked like a crime scene when they’d shoved them in a biohazard bag with how soaked in blood they were.
Her pretty tweed pants and white shirt she’d bought especially for his Dr Who convention to make him happy, wasted.
“Where’s all my clothes?” She asked, like she’d read his mind, but then again she had been known to do that.
He pouted, because he knew she’d hate the answer, “Emily said they had to cut it off to get you into the brace properly; they ran some scans first to make sure your spine was intact.”
“All of my clothes?” She baulked, and he knew she was upset before she could even say so he stroked his thumb over her hand for good measure, “But my lovely shirt- and the pants they were so cute, weren’t they?”
“They were so cute,” He agreed, even though he thought she looked good in everything.
“And- oh my god they got my bra too?” She asked, wide eyed and horrified like she hadn’t had a building dropped on her, like this was the worst part of her day. Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but he thought better than to tell her it wasn’t a big deal and he was sure Pen could take her shopping for new ones even if the thought of it made his cheeks flush red, “They got the best one, Spencer, that was my best one with the little bows and the lace at the back- fuck,”
She huffed, rubbing her temple in annoyance seemingly completely unaware of the situation she’d put him in, when JJ slowly entered the room, looking more tired and stressed than she had in months, but there was a little glow in her face that washed it all away.
“JJ, they cut off my favourite bra,” Bugsy huffed, holding an arm out for the woman who came to stand at the opposite side of the bed to Spencer, and JJ quickly leaned in to hug her close, Bugsy’s head pressing against her stomach, “It was the only one that fit perfectly, now look at me. Wasted.”
“I can get you another one on Monday after Will and I have stopped by the courthouse,” JJ said, her eyes alight with mischief like she had a secret, and Bugsy frowned, looking up at the woman.
“Why on Earth would Will be buying me- Wait,” The girl stopped, her breath catching in her throat as she took in JJ’s sheepish blush and girlish grin, “Courthouse? You’re getting married!”
JJ’s smile was beaming, and Bugsy yanked her with her one good arm into a side hug, just about as much as her ribcage would allow, and Spencer’s face lit up equally, though he was quick to usher Bugsy back into a resting position so as not to jostle her stitches.
Spencer drove her home that night after she got discharged, and he helped her get settled back into her own bed, her face still a little bitter at the fact her favourite underwear set was “totally mismatched now”; her words, not his. He put a documentary on for the two of them until it was time for some more of the painkillers the doctors had sent her packing with, and she fell asleep pretty quickly after that.
He watched her breaths rising and falling slowly, the sight of her on that stretcher being wheeled into the back of the ambulance flashing in his head like a horror motion picture. Her face had been soaked in blood, her neck in a brace that looked tight enough to crush her, her eyes were weary and dim from what he knew now was the sedative effects of the painkillers.
He’d almost brought up the fact he’d found a geneticist willing to take a look at his MRI scans to help his migraines; almost brought up that she had finally got back to him with results and a plan of vitamins and dietary changes he could make to help ease his flare ups.
Spencer almost mentioned it, but he fell asleep listening to Bugsy’s breaths, checking for irregularities, before he had the chance to.
–
Hot pink did not match ditsy blue whatsoever, she had quickly decided, but the bluebell, floral dress was the only thing she owned long enough to cover the scratches on her legs and arms, and hid the majority of the hideous cast that weighed down her arm.
Spencer had encouraged her not to come to JJ’s ‘engagement party’, had encouraged her to stay at home and sleep; promised her he would rustle up the best chicken soup she’d ever tasted if it meant she would stay on the couch and rest her marred body.
But then Rossi had said he just simply couldn’t let a nice occasion go to waste. A few phone calls later, a drop in the ocean of his wealth and within two days the yard to his stately manor had been turned into a ceremony, the whole arch, pews and altar style.
“You should worry so much, you look lovely,” Spencer softly chided her when he saw her yanking her sleeve further down her arm, trying to cover the hard shell that protected her radius while it healed. She did, despite the fact he had to help her do her eyeliner because she could only do it with her right hand, or that there was still a nasty cut on her forehead that was scabbing up.
She was still beautiful as ever to him. And it made Spencer’s chest sore.
It felt like something had cracked between them since that night she had been dropped to his, her pupils wide as dinner plates, her inhibitions lowered to zero, and had pecked his lips like it wouldn’t tear him up inside to have her so close to him knowing it was everything he had ever wanted.
He knew if she ever kissed him again he couldn’t keep it in anymore, couldn’t stay in this limbo they had found themselves in where all he could think about was how she smelled when she wore his clothes, a mix of his laundry and her skin together, something he’d found himself purely saturated in since she first lived with him after Emily’s funeral. He loved the way her eyes seemed soft and mellow when she looked at him, loved the way his stomach seemed warm and fuzzy when she held his hand, and he knew it wasn’t in the same way it normally was with other people, when he was worried about how many germs they were spreading to him or if they’d had all their shots or if he’d remembered to pack hand sanitizer. His stomach felt funny, and his skin felt sweaty, and his head got scrambled, and it was somehow good.
He would do anything for her, anything she ever wanted from him and it was hers.
He knew it way surpassed friendship. It felt like she was his girlfriend, which was absurd because he had never asked her to be. Or maybe it was just him trying to wish it into existence, because he knew he would never ask her. She was too good for him, too good for this world let alone a scrawny, know-it-all like him.
She simpered under his words, looking at him with tired eyes, though he could tell she still yearned to fluff up her hair or fix her dress because she felt like a polished turd right now.
“Thankyou,” She said quietly, immediately spotting a waiter carrying a tray of champagne passing by and reaching for a little flute, “Want one? Thank you,”
Spencer shook his head politely, quickly spotting Emily and Morgan moving into the garden with Hotch and Beth not far behind them.
“I’ll be right back, just wait here a second,” He said, gently stroking over her spine with his warm hands, before he darted towards the group. Jack took off running towards Bugsy the second he saw her, and Spencer heard the small ‘ooft’ leave the woman as he collided with her stomach and nearly winded her. He was getting bigger by the minute, Spencer swore.
“Don’t you look dashing, boy wonder,” Morgan teased, flicking his finger under the lapel of Spencer’s two piece suit that Bugsy had told him more than once fit him like a glove, “Someone to impress?”
Spencer blanched, his eyes shooting to Emily who seemed to hide a smile, because his feelings for her sister were about as plain to see as the moon that coated their evening in a blue glow. Hotch looked over the younger agent’s shoulder, to where his son was throwing cents into Rossi’s fountain with Bugsy and making wishes, his eyes quickly falling to the pink cast around her wrist, and his face hardened.
“How is she?” He asked, lips pursed.
They had seen her in turns at the hospital, but most of the time she had been extremely out of it, Hotch had managed to catch her right before they took her into surgery for her arm, and even then he’d been ushered right back out of the room because they were getting her prepped to be scrubbed down.
Spencer bit his lip for a second, glancing over his shoulder at Bugsy fishing through her purse with her one good hand for more nickels, before he looked back at them, “She doesn’t want anyone to make a big deal about it, and don’t bring up her arm or her forehead, she’s a little delicate-”
He was cut off by Penelope squealing behind them, and they turned in unison to see the blonde woman cupping Bugsy’s face, checking herself for more abrasions, stroking over the younger girl’s shoulders as she simply allowed herself to be ragged like a doll.
Because it was Penny. And Penny always meant well.
Spencer flustered worriedly, and Morgan chuckled behind him, wrapping an arm over the kid’s shoulder.
“Can’t protect her forever, lover boy,” Derek said, patting him before he let go, taking Emily’s elbow and walking over to where they were serving hors d'oeuvres.
Spencer knew that, knew she could handle herself just fine without him. That was what worried him the most.
–
JJ looked beautiful in her mother’s wedding dress. Bugsy welled up with happiness, true happiness when she saw her friend walking down the aisle with her son, a spitting image of her, in one hand, her father’s arm in the other.
Will looked besotted, but then again he always did when he looked at JJ.
Bugsy felt the love in the entire yard as they said their vows, kissing each other without restraint under the floral arch as Henry covered his eyes with a little giggle and an ‘eww!’ which made everyone chuckle.
The violinists began playing soft hymns as the couple had their first dance, and Henry migrated towards the woman with the pink hand and the sapphire dress.
“Buggy,” He tugged on the bottom of her skirts, huge, sky-blue eyes blinking up at her behind a mop of blonde furls. “Buggy, your hand!”
She knelt down to hear the three year old a little better, and immediately tiny fingers trailed over her wrist worriedly.
“Your hand, it’s hurt,” He said, and Spencer crouched to comfort the boy who he still remembered holding hours after he was born.
“I know, I hurt myself at work,” She said, letting him run his fingers over the pink shelling, his eyes wide and confused about the new material, “But Mommy saved me, and she saved your Daddy, and she saved you, didn’t she? Isn’t she so brave,”
Henry smiled, like all his thoughts of his mommy being Wonder Woman were true, and he nodded, stepped towards Bugsy while making grabby hands for her neck, “Up,”
Spencer was about to protest, because he didn’t want her to push herself, but he knew she could never say no to kids, especially ones as cute as the boys.
“Alright, big man, up we go,” She put her good arm under his bottom, Spencer holding under her shoulder to help her into a stand with a repressed grunt, “Jesus, what did you eat for breakfast today. You really are a big boy, Henry,”
She put him on her hip, shoving off the way it stung her superficial cuts because Henry seemed happy, grabbing a section of her hair in his tiny hands, and stroking her head gently in what Bugsy guessed was the way JJ stroked his when he was unwell.
“Mommy says you have to have a magic kiss when you get hurt,” Henry babbled, and she smiled, her cheeks hurting because the kid was just sweet enough to eat.
“Oh, yeah? Is mommy magic then?” She entertained, feeling Spencer still a ghost over her shoulder in case she started struggling to hold the pre-schooler. His godson laughed like she told a joke, shaking his golden locks as he answered.
“No, Buggy,” He giggled, patting her cheek as she scrunched eyes shut with a smile, “You get a magic kiss when you get fixed. Like this,” He leaned in, leaving a big wet smooch on her cheek that made her giggle, tightening her hold on him with a shiny jaw. Henry turned to where Spencer watched them with a dazzling smile, pointing up at him, little fingernails waving in his face, “Spencer’s turn,”
His godfather faltered, his cheeks turning red and Bugsy looked between the two of them, amused.
“I can’t, I’m afraid Henry. I’m not magic like you and mommy,” Spencer replied, trying to brush the boy off as kindly as possible. Henry’s face frowned, because he had watched Uncle Spencer pull a coin out of his ear not even half an hour ago and so that statement seemed ridiculous.
“You have to! You have to give her magic kisses or she won't get better!” Henry ordered, trying to grab Spencer’s bow tie with vigour, “You have to!”
“Alright, alright,” Spencer agreed, his hands shooting up in surrender, “I’ll give her magic kisses,”
Bugsy looked at him with a heart stopping smile. She looked soft like butter, syrupy and warm as pudding. The moonlight washed her pupils with something like a cartoonish twinkle, and he hoped his forest eyes didn’t turn to two love hearts the way he felt like it did.
He raised one of his hands to her cheek, the same one Henry just kissed, holding her still. She was cool in the night air, or maybe his hand was just too warm because he was so nervous. He hoped he wasn’t shaking, but her jaw fit into the palm of his hand like it was always meant to be there.
He dipped his head in to give her a long, delicate kiss to her cheek, running a thumb down the apple of her cheek.
He pulled away from her, and they exchanged a look, something in her eyes he had rarely seen before. Figuring it was discomfort, or maybe just the light playing tricks on him, he stepped away, and Henry was quickly distracted by a frog hopping through the mildewed grass, and he set Bugsy on the task to help him catch it.
Spencer busied himself talking to Will and Derek in the hopes his heart would calm down any minute soon, but he had quickly felt himself becoming somewhat addicted to the feel of her skin beneath his lips. He wondered lewdly if the rest of her would feel so soft as her cheek had, and immediately scolded himself for it.
The thought haunted him for the rest of the night.
-
Penny twirled her around by her good arm, and the two of them giggled like school girls under the fairy-light woven pergola, the string quartet finishing off the fast paced song they had switched up the mood with. The blonde was careful about not jostling the woman too much, she could already feel Spencer and Emily’s worried looks from where they sat together at a table, nursing their drinks mid chat.
But whether it was the fact she had been cooped up for days on bed rest orders (Spencer’s, not the Doctor’s, though he’d argued that was the same thing,) or that last morphine patch had really given her a kick up the behind, but she seemed to be hiding the pain well.
JJ would only have one wedding, she’d argued with Spencer, she could have a hundred days in bed, but there would only be one night like this one; when they were all together, safe and happy, when there was enough palpable love in the air that fell over everyone's shoulders like a warm hug. He’d grumbled that he was usually the optimistic one and zipped up her dress for her with shaky fingers anyway.
Before Penny could spin her round even one more time, a figure appeared two tower over the blonde, and a voice cut in between them politely.
“I don’t suppose you’d let me lead the next dance, I think Reid and Prentiss might just tackle you if you shake her up anymore,” Aaron’s voice was soft, inviting with the one and a half beers he’d had edging at his tone, almost teasing in a way so rare for a man so stern.
Penelope looked over Bugsy’s shoulder to indeed see the woman’s two guard dogs watching her like a hawk, Bug’s already opened purse on Spencer lap where her emergency painkillers were.
“Oh god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Spencer frown like that, it’s like watching a puppy resource guarding,” Penelope faltered, looking the woman head to toe as if she was being held against her will to dance by the blonde, “You’re not hurt or anything- you’d tell me if you were hurt, wouldn’t you?”
Bugsy chuckled, throwing her good arm over the woman’s shoulder, “Relax, they’re both worry warts. I’m having fun, Pen. I think Hotch just wanted a turn with the ugly barbie,”
Against Penelope’s better judgement, she gave the woman a kiss on the cheek with a sigh of defeat, though she had been so careful not to push her in fear of her cracking another rib, but she had loved seeing Bugsy smile like that again.
Derek was quick to swoop in to save her, swooping in to steal her for a dance as Aaron gently took Bugsy’s waist and good hand, entirely respectable and gentle in his touch.
“I’m glad you’re okay, your bell got a little rung in that bank,” Aaron murmured, trying not to fret over the gash on her forehead that had a few butterfly stitches pulling it together. He remembered how frail she’d felt in his arms the last time he’d properly seen her, like a baby bird with its wings snapped in his hands. He was worried he was going to be burying her too, just like he had Emily, just like he had Haley, except he knew for her there wasn’t a catch, an escape route to Paris. There wouldn’t have been a do over.
But she was okay. Broken bones and all.
She smiled at him, as if to remind him just how alive she was, and he saw how her eyes were bloodshot and tired, as if it was taking all of her energy to keep her head upright.
“If you knew how many morphine patches are on my butt right now, you’d freak,” She said, and he laughed, because she was always good at getting those from him. Bugsy relaxed in his arms, and he rocked her side to side sweetly, not quite dancing but moving passively to the soft melody the band was playing.
Maybe it was the fact he wasn’t in work mode, or maybe it was because the night air was cosy and light, or maybe she just weaselled out the guilt that had been stored in his chest for nearly a year, but he let himself look at her with a sad, sepia gaze, and it was like she knew what he was going to say before he said it.
“I’m-”
“Don’t apologise,” She cut in quickly, her own expression falling into something forlorn, “You have nothing to apologise for, Aaron,”
He took a deep breath through his nose, “I do. That wasn’t right how I treated you. You’re not spoiled.”
“I can be, sometimes,” She argued defeatedly, but he shook his head before she could add to it, “You were doing what was best to keep Emily safe, it was her I was more mad at than anything. She’s my sister, she should have trusted me, you and JJ didn’t owe me anything.”
“We owed you a better explanation than we gave,” He said, watching her sigh and rest her cheek on his shoulder. He cursed Spencer for allowing her to wear heels in her condition, though he didn’t doubt that the pretty boy had put up just as much fight as he would have seeing her grab the shoes on her way out, “I never meant to hurt you so much. And we do owe you better, we’re a family. Families fight, and they say mean things and they tell white lies sometimes but we love each other, and I only ever wanted to keep everyone safe. Okay?”
She nodded against his blazer material, dropping his hand in the interest of wrapping both her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug, ignoring the dulled ache of her ribcage.
“I love you too,” She murmured, and he gave her a feather-light squeeze back, all too aware of her bones creaking under her skin, “I’m sorry I hit you,”
She let go of him, and he held her hand, the tips of her fingers poking out from beneath her cast that already had Jack’s name scrawled over in black sharpie.
“I deserved it, I was being cruel,” He said honestly. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but the emptiness in her laugh, in the way she’d stormed out, had scared him. He thought even if she lashed out, if she screamed at him or cried that would be better than the silent treatment because at least then he would know where she stood with him. But instead he had driven the knife in deeper, and for that he couldn’t say he blamed her for it, “I’ve had worse, much worse. Maybe you’re not as tough as you think,”
She baulked, and realised he was teasing her, “Maybe we could go round two Monday morning, I bet it would hurt a lot having a hard plaster cast swung at your face,”
“For me or for you?” She smacked his arm with her good hand, and it made him chuckle again, and soon she was laughing too, resting her head back onto his shoulder comfortably, “I’m glad you’re okay, Bug,”
“Did you not hear where I put those morphine patches? I could paper mache with those bastards,”
And they danced between chuckles for another half an hour.
–
“Wait, wait, you’re going to compress her spine,” Derek stopped, Bugsy dipped at his waist where he was supporting her full weight because she’d complained she missed dancing with Penelope. She hated people walking on eggshells around her, and if anyone was going to have fun with her who could still make sure she was safe, it was Derek.
The woman grinned up at him, Derek’s hands safely around her waist and not pressing on her ribs whatsoever, though she had to admit she was ready for another dose of painkillers after a few hours of dancing between Hotch, then to JJ who had swiftly been taken over by Henry who wanted to be lifted high enough he could hold Bugsy’s hands like he had seen the others doing. David had even entertained her with a very slow three step waltz, until Derek had been her next target because he seemed to be having the most fun whirling Emily around the dance floor.
“Spencer!” She said and Morgan returned her to full height once he saw Reid’s fretful expression. She pouted, “Spencer, I was having fun,”
“You know what’s fun? Eating cake is fun, drinking water is fun, resting on the couch is fun,” He said, and Morgan was quick to hand the baby Prentiss over to Reid who rifled around his pocket to produce the tablet version of her buprenorphine, “You need more medicine or it’s going to hurt worse in the morning, remember? Getting ahead of the pain?”
She sighed, nodding, and before he could pop two out of the shiny, metal coated tray, she stopped him, “Wait, dance with me first,”
He looked at her incredulously, eyes softening when she stepped closer to him, her hand coming over the top of his to push the pain killers away, “It’s going to hurt more if you don’t get ahead of it now,”
“I know, I know,” She muttered, nodding docilely, “Look, I promise if you just dance with me a little now, I’ll have my meds and take it easy for the rest of the night, no questions asked,”
He looked unconvinced, because she was known to put up a fight when it came to doing something she didn’t want to.
She sighed, “If I sit down now, I know I won’t be getting back up again for the rest of the night, and I wanted to enjoy myself until I couldn’t anymore,”
Spencer looked at her pleading puppy dog eyes, and broke almost embarrassingly fast, letting her follow his hand into his pocket, putting the drugs away and letting her take his now free hand in his own.
“I’ll have it known I tried to stop this when this catches up to you and you have to go lay down on Rossi’s spare bed,” He argued back, but felt his stomach flip when she laced her fingers with his, pushing herself closer to him as a means of drawing him out of his grumpy mood.
“He has more than enough, just dance with me,” She brushed his attitude off, wrapping her plaster-cast over his shoulder.
He took her waist gently, feeling the plush, softness of her hips and wishing the heat away from his cheeks. She looked divine under the fairy lights, ready to be whisked away by sleep yes, but the sleepy blinks added to her charm, and she was soft and pliant under his touch like a tame cat ready to curl up on his chest.
“I had so much fun,” She said, meeting his adoring gaze, probably because he couldn’t drag his eyes away from her. He nodded, worrying then if his hair was sitting right or if hid bowtie needed straightening. She was a goddess in his arms, the colour of her dress matching her skin beautifully, a few wisps of hair falling over her eyes from where Penny had damn near done the quick step with her.
She looked like a dream.
“I never thanked you for everything you did for me when Emily was-” She gulped, her eyes suddenly down turned, like she couldn’t admit anything to the hazel of his eyes, not when they looked at her like that. “You were the only thing I had for a very long time, and I never really said how much it all meant to me,”
“You’re my best friend, I’m always going to be there for you,” He said, lovingly stroking a thumb over her skin, his voice tender as this touch, “That’s what friends are for,”
Even though he was sure he’d never felt this way about any of his friends before, even the tiny crush he’d had on JJ for all of two weeks when he’d first started at the BAU didn’t even make a mark on how she got his chest hammering like a jackrabbit.
Her face flickered with something he couldn’t read, and she nodded, “Right. Friends.” She swallowed heavily.
She slumped against him, like the wind had been taken out of her, her head on his shoulder, but it felt nothing like when she had danced with Hotch.
It felt like everything she’d ever wanted was right in her grasp, like the one person who made her feel whole again was pressed against her, stroking down her spine with an affection she could swear blind was nothing like she’d ever felt before. Like the only air she knew how to breathe was filling her lungs, every note of fresh linen, the hair gel he sometimes used to tame his curls, down to the faint smell of his apartment, so filled with books the smell of worn leather and thin paper seeped into his clothes.
She couldn’t remember who she was before she knew Spencer. She felt like she’d always known him.
He wasn’t just her friend, he was every bit of her that she wasn’t. Every ugly part of her that had always felt so alone, like loneliness was just ingrained into her since birth that seemed to jump up in a strange feeling of longing and home whenever he was near.
She let herself revel in his arms as long as she could, because she knew it was so illicit to be feeling so hungry for something she couldn’t have. She knew he was too good for her; she had never deserved any scrap of kindness he gave her. She could be mean, and rude, and loud, and ugly, and spiteful and he was everything she wasn’t. He was kind, and sweet, and gentle, and loving, and he didn’t deserve someone like her; he deserved so much better.
Bugsy let herself stay against his chest for a while longer, slowly swaying with him under the moonlight as JJ and Will took each other in their arms; a couple that fit together, Bugsy thought, two people who were so right for one another. Who deserved their happiness.
And so she selfishly let herself pretend she could have him as long as she could, silently dancing together under the pergola, until she agreed to go sit down because she would never admit that the ache in her side had started to seep back in, and he fussed over her some more and she told him he was being silly, but she preened under his affections anyway.
They’d reached a stalemate, Spencer would have probably called it.
Bugsy knew she shouldn’t want him, but she did. She shouldn’t want him because he was the pretty boy, the sweetheart that sat untainted by everything he’d seen and endured, the one who had jumped and cleared every hurdle life had thrown at him where she had fallen flat. He had gotten better on his own after Hankel; she had crashed and burned and taken nearly everyone with her. He was strong, and she was weak. She shouldn’t want him, it was selfish, but she did.
Spencer knew he couldn’t have her, because she was beyond anything he had ever dreamed of, beyond his best friend, beyond the girl who kissed him and didn’t ever want to talk about it again. He couldn’t have her because she was still healing, still wounded and vulnerable and rattled from barely recovering her relationship with her sister before she’d had a bank dropped on top of her. It would be wrong, it would be selfish, she would never want some scrawny kid from a shitty home where he was beaten up by girls even smaller than him and wedgied so hard he had to follow the librarian to class. He was a nobody. He couldn’t have her because she deserved so much better, but he wanted her.
They sat at a stalemate for a few weeks longer, until Emily got a job offer in London, and she asked Bugsy to take an internship at Interpol one of her old associates had sent to her. Twelve weeks learning how international databases worked, even some forensic work for Scotland Yard if she played her cards right.
And she took it; without much warning she took it, even if not to give herself some breathing space from how much her chest pined to be back in Spencer’s arms she had that night.
Bugsy headed to London, and didn’t look back.
The one with Maeve [God Complex.] 8x04
Four Months. Bugsy had been in England for four months.
At first, they had called regularly, almost every other day, except the days she was just too tired to stay up until two am to call him when he got home. They had spent an hour on the phone at least; she had asked about the team, the cases, if he missed her yet which he always told her to knock it off because of course he missed her, and he had asked about London, and what England was like, and how Emily was doing.
Until around two months in when her schedule had changed to night shifts, and they could only ever communicate by texts, at which point he had been the one struggling to talk because he had no clue how to work his phone. She had called the odd time on her half an hour lunch break, but it was always rushed, never consistent, usually ending up with her excusing herself and hanging up on him fast because she was needed urgently somewhere else.
Cynically enough, the only time she could ever call was Sundays. Sundays when he was already busy, Sundays when he was admittedly on the phone, only he wasn’t talking to her.
He was talking to Maeve.
The geneticist he had been ready to tell her all about before JJ’s wedding, who had all but cleared up his migraines within a few sessions, who had asked him three days after Bugsy had flown out what had made his head flare up again and so he’d told her. Told her his best friend moved to another country temporarily, that he missed her and had been looking after her cats for her while she was gone because her new landlord wouldn’t let them have pets. And it had spiralled from there, she had asked more about the rest of his life, and he had asked about hers, and suddenly they weren’t just talking about his migraines anymore, they were flirting.
He hadn’t told Maeve that he was in love with said friend who had taken a great opportunity with both hands and fled the second she could. He couldn’t hold it against her, not when he was choosing his calls with Maeve over the only chance he had to speak to Bugsy, and four months really wasn’t that long in the scheme of things.
That was what he’d tried telling himself at least. He missed her more than anything, and the only thing that he’d found combatted the sting of her being gone was Maeve.
Maeve; who he had never seen, whose voice was sweet and alluring, who got his humour the way girls rarely ever did (besides Bug ofcourse). Who liked what he liked, and could talk his ear off about what she’d been reading, and about her day in the lab.
She was Bugsy in every other font, every other manner, and best of all she liked him. She told him weeks ago she liked him, that she wanted to date him, that he was her dream guy.
Call him a cynic for enjoying having a chance with someone, then that’s what he was.
Life since he had tried pushing away his unrequited feelings for one Prentiss girl had been going swimmingly. He liked their new team mate, Alex Blake, the brilliant linguist who warmed to him quite quickly; he had a girl at his heels who returned his feelings, who was everything he always said he looked for in a partner, even without having ever seen her face, and he was rather enjoying having Nico and Sergio around to keep him company.
But as it always did, the contented limbo he’d found himself in where he might actually be able to get a girlfriend came to a screeching halt on Sunday afternoon when he was stepping outside at three forty-five, readying himself for the ten minute walk to the nearest phone booth for their call at four pm on the dot. He had just about locked his front door, turning on his heel with his scarf draped over his shoulders when he had collided with someone’s chest.
“Oh I’m so- Bugsy?”
“Spencer!” She smiled at him wider than she ever had before, and she threw her arms over his shoulders because he had never protested to her affection before, “It’s so good to see you- I missed you so much, there’s so much I have to tell you-”
“What are you doing here?” It sounded like a confrontation, though he hadn’t meant it that way, just that he hadn’t been expecting her back for another two weeks at least and he certainly hadn’t expected to see her today, right before he was about to go call the girl he was sort of seeing, sort of not.
She bristled at his tone, because he didn’t sound nearly as happy to see her as she had expected. Pulling away, she realised he hadn’t even bothered to hug her back, and she tried to shove away the embarrassment that she’d never ever felt in front of him before.
“I- just- I wanted to surprise you. Interpol said I could finish early since I’d finished all my paperwork and could take the exams online in a few weeks,” She stammered, feeling uncharacteristically stuck for what to say. He flicked a look down to his wrist, his brows furrowed like she was taking up too much time, “Is something wrong, did I do something wrong?”
“No, you just-” He breathed heavily out of his nose, running a hand through his hair, “I’m late for something,”
“I’ll drive you!” She jumped at the chance, fishing for her keys in her pocket, “Car’s right out front, I sort of just threw it there because I wanted to see you,”
“I’m walking,” He said, in that frustrated tone again and she stopped looking at her jacket, her eyes snapping to his as he looked past her like she was in his way.
“O-okay, well then do you want company?” She said, her bag heavy with the souvenir she got him, though now it seemed to be weighing her down.
“It’s sort of personal,” He replied shortly, like she was a stranger selling him something on his doorstep, when really he was just cursing his luck that the girl he’d spent months trying to get over was here in front of him like someone was waving a bone in his face and he was a pup being told to sit. He was cursing the fact that he had spent hours and hours dreaming of the minute he’d see her again and she had showed up out of the blue after weeks of little to no communication like a damn hallucination of the senses.
She stopped then, her face contorting into a frown, “Is everything okay, are you sure I didn’t do anything-”
“You could have called, I’m kind of busy, Bugsy,” Spencer replied, even though he knew he was being unreasonable. It wasn’t her fault she was unravelling all of his progress just by being there. He thought he was finally getting over her, and with one whiff of her perfume, of her shampoo mixed with her natural scent, he was remembering just how in love with her he had been just a few months ago, like Pavlov’s fucking dog.
Her face fell then, into something kicked and hurt, “Sorry- my phone died on the plane, I didn’t even think, I just- I just wanted to see you,”
He faltered, the frustration leaking out of him, but before he could really say much else, she’d taken a step away, swung around to head for the stairs, “Sorry, I’ll call next time, sorry I got in your way, Spence,”
And she sounded genuine, not annoyed like he would expect for someone who’d been spoken to like trash. The guilt seeped in almost immediately, but then his mind ticked over the minutes he had left until Maeve would be expecting a call. Nine minutes now, he would need to speed walk.
He could make it up to Bugsy as soon as he was done with the girl who was almost her but not.
–
Spencer felt like an idiot. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the look on her face when she had left his apartment, nor had he not stopped chiding himself for not heading straight out after her.
His phone call with Maeve hadn’t gone how he’d expected, which would have been the only thing soothing the burn of his scathing tone, except she had hung up rather abruptly after he had suggested they meet up, something that had played on his mind for weeks now.
“Are you being safe?” He asked, the payphone hard and cold in his hand as he pressed it to his ear.
She chuckled softly down the phone, a sound that would have made his heart flutter if he hadn’t been feeling so wound up about seeing Bugsy, “Yes, I’m being safe,”
“Do you think he knows about us?” Spencer dared to ask after a moment of silence, because he could tell it was worrying her too. He wondered if the two of them would be dating by now if it wasn’t for the fact she had a stalker who may or may not turn his attention to Spencer if he realised they were seeing one another.
“No, as far as I can tell he doesn’t,” She said, her voice slightly more rigid than what he was used to. Her voice was always honey smooth when they spoke, and Spencer had more than enough time to wonder if it ever matched what she looked like. “And we need to keep it that way,”
The line went dead, and with it the only thing that he’d been telling himself was worth hurting his best friend even the tiniest bit went with it.
Spencer felt like an asshole. He’d tried calling Bugsy’s phone, then when she hadn’t answered he’d tried asking Penelope, who said she’d gone to visit JJ, Will and Henry since he was too busy.
At least that would have lightened her mood, he hoped, as he walked into the office Monday morning, and saw her at her desk, already chatting to Penelope with Derek’s arm around her shoulder.
She was all smiles today, pretty much how she had looked yesterday before he had all but kicked her out, and the sinking feeling in his chest tripled when she looked past Penelope’s shoulder and saw him. Her eyes wavered for a second, head turning downwards as if she hadn’t properly spotted him,
“Pretty boy! Look who it is,” Derek called him over, even though he was already speed walking and he stopped in front of her, looking her head to toe for the first time fully.
He realised then her hair was slightly different, that she’d had it cut shorter since the last time he’d seen her, that she’d gotten a new ear piercing. It made her look older, more mature than when he’d last seen her, or maybe he had just not seen her in so long. Maybe he just hadn’t bothered, he thought painfully.
“I saw him yesterday,” Bugsy said, and he felt caught immediately, Penelope’s head whipping to him, “He was kinda busy though, weren’t you, Spence? More of a passing visit.”
She sounded indifferent to yesterday’s rudeness, like it hadn’t really phased her despite the fact he’d seen for his own eyes the way her expression dropped.
“I was- I had an appointment,” He said, because he felt the need to explain himself even if he couldn’t.
She smiled at him, something dampened and fake, “I leave for a few months and suddenly boy wonder is too busy to talk to me, what is the world coming to,” She joked, and Spencer felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, though Penny and Derek laughed.
“No, really, I had an appointment-” He tried to reason, but Penelope stopped him before he could fret too much, his hands wringing and he tried to lie on the spot without getting caught.
“She’s just kidding, Spence, don’t worry,” Pen shook him off warmly, quickly grabbing Bugsy’s arm tightly, the faint scar where she’d had her surgery trailing up her skin, “Now, to my bat cave, where we can talk all about just how good British guys are in bed without the boy germs getting all over our gossip,”
Bugsy laughed, allowing herself to be pulled along, right past Spencer without a second glance, despite the fact he looked like he was about to throw up.
Why hadn’t he thought about that? Why hadn’t he considered for a second that she would meet anyone, if not seriously, then for a one night stand? What if all those nights she was too busy to talk she had been with someone, someone much cooler and hotter and overall more experienced than he was. He was thirty years old and he had only ever slept with two women, one being Austin the bartender she’d told him to go after despite him lingering around her the whole night, the other being a girl he’d met in O’Keeffes after a hard case when he had been a few months sober, wanting anything, anyone, to take his mind away from going back to the little vial of trouble.
How could he be so stupid? Of course she’d be hooking up with other people. She was young and gorgeous and smart as a whip and single. She’d be any guy's dream.
He knew he was being so, so disgustingly hypocritical. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Maeve for months, and yet here he was seething with jealousy at the very thought of Bugsy being with someone who could love her without feeling guilty for loving her.
Spencer swallowed his pride and set his stuff down on his desk, watching Penelope grab Alex and drag her to her bat cave on her way, the older woman lighting up at the fact she was meeting the Bugsy Prentiss.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and felt a migraine start to ache behind his eyes.
–
“Alex- Blake, where are you going?” Spencer called, shoving his cell in his back pocket as he jogged toward the woman about to climb into the SUV.
Sure enough, Bugsy had been back in the office for one hour before they were getting pulled into another case, and she was more than happy to jump in to help with her new found skills in Interpol.
It was a gruesome case, which was saying something for all the shit they’d seen. The UnSub was amputating legs off one victim to then put onto his next one. There had been one guy waking up in his hotel room with both legs missing below the knee, then another gentleman had walked into an ER room with legs that weren’t his own attached to his sockets.
It made Bugsy’s skin crawl, but that was simply a day's work for them. They were at the most recent victim’s body; a woman who seemed to have been too weak to survive the surgery had been dumped on the street with her limbs switched to someone else’s. They had at least one other victim they hadn’t found yet, the girl thought darkly.
“Hotch called, he wants us back at the station ASAP,” The woman replied, Bugsy at her side.
“Can you give me a ride to 5th and Main, it’s on the way?” Spencer asked, trying his hardest to ignore the frown the youngest Prentiss gave him, confusion written across her face.
“Uh, yeah sure. What’s at 5th and Main?” Alex asked, also confused as to what was so pressing he needed to side track their case.
“I need to talk to somebody,” He replied shortly, the same cut off tone he’d used with Bugsy just the day before, and Alex faltered.
“Yeah, uh, okay. Sure.” She agreed, not wanting to rock the boat considering she was still so new to the BAU. She looked over at Bugsy, who seemed disgruntled as she headed for the passenger side, Spencer climbing into the back of the SUV with a troubled look on his face when their eyes met in the rear-view mirror.
“You’re coming with us?” He asked, looking on edge when he saw she’d gotten into their car and not into JJ’s like she had on their way over there.
“Yeah, is that a problem?” Bugsy asked, and he shrugged, playing with his fingertips in his lap.
“No, that’s fine, I just didn’t know you were coming with us,” He replied shortly, his face starting to warm when he realised how rude he’d sounded. He heard her sigh, and look out the window with no more protest in her.
Alex didn’t ask questions as she put the handbrake down, perhaps sensing the tension in the car between the two agents, and she didn’t need to be a profiler to tell there was either a lot unsaid between them or maybe even words that no one could take back.
Either way she did as he’d asked, because Bugsy hadn’t actually protested, just bit at her fingernails that said she was thinking too hard, and stepped on the gas.
–
The car pulled around to where a dimly lit payphone sat, empty and looking like it hadn’t been used in years. Which it probably hadn’t, besides as a dog urinal.
Alex stopped the car, and Spencer was already opening the door before she could even put it into neutral, “Do you want us to wait?”
“Uh, you know what, it might take a while, so I’ll just get a cab back,” He said, his tone clipped and leaving little room for questions. He felt Bugsy staring at him in confusion from the front seat, and he avoided her gaze like the plague, even if there was something sad in them that he was being so distant. “Thanks anyway,” He hopped out the car slamming the door shut, and digging through his pocket for change as he headed for the payphone.
Alex drove off, and he felt his chest get lighter for it, because he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the act.
He hated lying, especially to her. Every morsel of his being writhed in discontent whenever he would lie, like the truth was just begging to slip out one way or another, and he knew he would only feel all the more guilty for it as soon as the case was over and he couldn’t avoid her eyes that haunted him like a wraith or her touch that seemed to have been kept to herself since he had snubbed her hug at his doorway.
He knew he was pulling away, knew she was doing the same thing, and he hated it.
Bugsy sat in the car, her face moody as anything as she glared out the window and Alex took the corner around the block.
“So is it usually like this between you two?” Alex dared to ask, her food steady on the pedal, “The lingering looks, the awkward silences? From what Penelope told me, the two of you are as close as can be,”
“Yeah, usually we are,” Bugsy replied coldly, and within a second she was unplugging her seatbelt, “In fact, pull back around the block. I’m done with him being an asshole without an explanation.”
Alex felt like she had just pulled a pin from her grenade with her delicate question, though she had meant entirely well, and did as the girl told her to, worried just what might blow up in her face if she didn’t.
Spencer had already dialled the number he knew off by heart, with or without his eidetic memory, by the time they pulled around.
His face dropped, knowing the returning call would be coming any minute now and he just hoped Maeve wasn’t too worried about him. But he had no time to think about her, because the second he saw Bugsy getting out of the car he could tell she was pissed.
Pissed in a way she had never been with him, but then he supposed, he had never treated her like that either.
“I’m going to give you one chance to tell me the truth, Spencer, because I’m tired of the clipped responses and the pushing me away,” She said, walking over to him like he owed her money. Which he didn’t. But he did owe her a good explanation as to what the hell was going on with them, “Did I do something? You can tell me if I’m an asshole, I know I can be an asshole, but you have to tell me so I can fix it-”
“You haven’t done anything, Bug, just please get back in the car,” Spencer cut her off, which was clearly the wrong move as he saw her brow raise at him.
“Something’s not right, Spencer,” Alex agreed, though she held back because hurricane Bugsy seemed to be more than enough intimidation for the guy, “What’s the deal?”
“What do you mean? Why did you guys come back?” He rushed, because he could feel his face warming, and he played with his fingertips like he did when he was struggling.
“Don’t answer a question with a question,” Bugsy chided, and he rubbed his palm with his thumb self-soothingly, and that was what tripped him up. Her eyes zeroed on his hands, looking back up at him and he almost went white at the predicament he’d found himself in, “You’re lying about something,”
“No, I’m not, I would never lie to you-” She pulled his hands apart, looking at him with hurt written across her soft features.
��Bullshit, I know when you’re lying, Spencer, or did you just forget that we’re best friends. That seems to mean nothing to you nowadays,” She snapped, and he could only look back at the phone booth, knowing that she would be calling any second now, “Are you even listening to me?”
Her tone was hurt, wounded, because he had to admit he was being inconsiderate.
“A while back, I found a geneticist that helped clear up my migraines, and we stayed in touch while you were in London,” He said, because that was all true, and she couldn’t call him a liar again if he was telling the truth.
“So? What does that have to do with the case,” Alex prompted, her own face scrunched in ire as he hopped around the subject.
“I think maybe my friend may be able to see something we’ve missed.” Spencer rushed out, his eyes puppy like as he willed Bugsy to stop looking so damn betrayed.
“You have four of the best minds I know back at the station, you have a woman with a biochemistry master's standing in front of you who dabbled in medicine for fun, but you need your friend for help?” Alex responded, because there was no way he was getting out of the hole he’d dug himself if she had anything to say about it. She too, as new to the team as she was, had no time for secrets on a job where trust meant everything.
“I know, but sometimes a different perspective helps me think better, okay?” He replied, his hand itching to take his palm back because he knew it still wasn’t the full truth.
Bugsy scoffed, crossing her arms over one another, and shifting her weight to one foot.
“You’re being ambiguous, you always do that when you’re lying,” She muttered, loud enough for him to hear and he gulped, turning his head to the ground.
“All of this begs a bigger question, why did you ask me to bring you?” Alex asked, because she was thinking the same thing.
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Spencer said, but his spine straightened impossibly when the payphone began ringing, and he seemed skittish like a naughty school child.
“You could have asked JJ or Morgan to drive you, but you asked me. You had a problem with Bugsy coming, because you didn’t think she’d be with us, so what’s the deal? Why me?” Alex pushed, and Spencer flustered, his head whipping around to where the high pitched chime continued, and he knew she didn’t have much time before the line went dead.
“Alex, please,” Spencer begged, feeling Bugsy’s eyes boring into the side of his head as he avoided her gaze like the plague.
“Just answer the question,” Bugsy bit out, because she was sick of being ignored all day, of being treated like she was contaminated or like he had never known her a day in his life. Not when she had flown on the first plane back to see him because she missed him more than she could ever tell him.
Not when she had been racing up the stairs to his apartment, her souvenir in her bag, the words on the foreword written in her own hand ready to tell him how she felt.
Because she knew it, after weeks of not seeing him, hours of just missing him and the few texts back and forth, she knew it. She knew she had to tell him, even if they had to brush it under the rug to be friends again, even if it was a shot in the dark she had to tell him.
She couldn’t choke it down anymore.
Only when she’d gotten there, thrown her arms around him, he almost felt like a stranger beneath her hand, almost felt like he never even knew her.
Spencer sighed heavily, looking at Alex because he thought he might just crack if he looked at Bugsy when he said it.
“Because I didn’t want them to know about her, alright?”
And she knew it then, knew it by the way he’d softened entirely when he said her, the way he seemed to melt just by thinking of her, the way he cowered into taking a step back towards the phone booth. It wasn’t just his geneticist, it was someone else entirely. Someone so much more to him.
Bugsy felt a lump in her throat, and she forced with all her might to not let her eyes well with tears. Because friends didn’t feel like they’d been sucker punched in the gut at hearing they were seeing someone else. Friends didn’t feel an all consuming jealousy writhe under their skin at the idea of them being with someone who wasn’t them, feeling something for someone who wasn’t them.
That wasn’t what just friends did.
And Bugsy thought with horror, as he picked up the phone and spoke in hushed, gentle tones that he once did with her, that they might never be friends again.
The one with their first date. [Lessons Learned] 8x10
Things were weird. Really weird. And painful. Really, really fucking painful.
Bugsy and Spencer had never been like this, never been so cold besides the first time they’d ever met, and even then she had warmed him from the inside out. She was sharing her sharlotka within hours of even knowing him, never even knowing he was knee deep in an addiction he was struggling to face alone, and that she had made him feel better than he had in weeks with her smile and her kindness and her quick witted brain.
Things were strange between them, and it was becoming noticeable too.
She boarded the jet behind Alex, the woman taking a seat next to Hotch at the table, the only other seat left being next to Reid, who stopped midway through what he was saying.
“It’s difficult to lure most people from the security of their own homes, eighty four percent of stalking victims have some sort of original connection with their stalkers, meaning-” He paused, and so did she for a fraction of a second, debating whether to sit beside him. She straightened quickly, dipping her head down and looking to the floor, and bristling past the empty seat to sit herself next to JJ on the couch.
He cleared his throat, trying to look like his face hadn’t dropped in hurt, and continued.
Hotch and JJ exchanged a look, the same silent message reading clear in their eyes.
The blonde looked up from her file as the others chatted, Penelope piping up from their computer, and glanced at the younger woman who was unpacking her things on her lap, despite there being a perfectly good table next to them.
“You alright, Bug?” JJ asked, trying not to seem too worried, yet she knew she was coming off troubled by the tense behaviour from the pair of them.
It had been three weeks of this, the silences, the uncomfortable pauses, the avoiding each other at all costs. The only time they ever really spoke was on a case, when they were closing in on an UnSub and their feelings had to be put to one side for the moment. Well, her feelings. Because all of his feelings were occupied as of the moment. With Maeve.
She couldn’t stomach talking about the woman anymore, couldn’t stand Derek’s teasing remarks about how lover boy was getting lucky, or Penelope’s thousands and one questions about the geneticist that she knew had come from a place of care, or Alex’s motherly guidance on his love life. The entire thing made her feel queasy, and she stayed quiet most days in the way he’d always hated, the way he’d always tried to pry her out of.
But nowadays he didn’t bother. Didn’t bother much with her at all, really.
“Yep,” Bugsy said, her lips tight, “Peachy,”
JJ knew not to ask any more than that.
–
Human marionettes were a first for her, she had to admit. They had already found two victims stuffed into boxes with craft paper surrounding them, their limbs almost entirely broken out of their sockets ante-mortem. It was a time sensitive case, with two deaths in three days and no sign of slowing down, and so that meant that of course the two brains of the team were assigned together, even if Hotch saw the way her face dropped when he’d said it.
She was drawing the geographical profile on the board, the squeaking of the marker against the screen the only sound in the room aside from Spencer’s flicking of pages.
“Did you get the first dump site?” He asked, even though he knew she more than likely would have done.
“Mhm,” She said, not bothering to actually say anything, because it was a stupid question she knew he was only asking to fill the awkward silence between them.
“What about the store that sold the outfits, did you get-” He started, only for her to cut him off with a clipped tone.
“Got it, and I got the radius around the store, and I got the second dumpsite.” Bugsy replied, capping the lid to the marker pen and setting it down on the desk beside him, “I’m going to get coffee. Want one?”
Though she didn’t stick around long enough to really hear his response. She simply waltzed out of the room to the tiny kitchenette the police station had to offer, in search of anything that would keep her occupied and away from snapping at him.
What had she really got to be mad at him for? For getting a girlfriend? For rubbing it in everyone's face how happy she made him, how perfectly suited she was for him? Except she didn’t think that last one was necessarily true, it just felt that way because it cut her so deep to hear about the girl who was everything she wanted to be. She had no right to be mad at him for anything except being distant with her since she got back from London.
She still made him a coffee half heartedly, swirling in a tonne of sugar the way she knew he would like, because he never changed being so perfectly him in the time she was away.
She used to tell him he didn’t need all that sugar because he was sweet enough as he was, because it was true. He used to be entirely honeyed and saccharine when he spoke to her, now she was lucky if she got a full good morning.
Bugsy bit her lip to stop it from quivering, and took the mugs back to the tiny office they were stationed in, seeing Alex at the door and hearing half their conversation.
“Is this about, uh, phone booth girl?” Blake asked, and Bugsy wanted to snap because what else would they be talking about. Her name was Maeve, she wanted to snarl, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve, Queen of the Fairies and of Spencer’s heart, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve.
She never hated a name so viscerally, though she knew in deep down it wasn’t her fault. Maeve didn’t do anything wrong, she just fell in love with Dr Spencer Reid and his charms. She couldn’t blame her, really. It wasn’t difficult to do so.
“She wants to meet,” Spencer’s voice was soft and nervous, and it was the most she’d heard him talk all day.
Bugsy froze, and Alex’s jaw dropped, “Wait, you guys have never met?” She saw Spencer shake his head just before she rounded the corner back into the office, feeling like she was intruding immediately, “Aren’t you curious what she looks like?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter what she looks like, she’s already the most beautiful girl in the world to me,” She stopped at the doorway, feeling like she’d had the entire cup of hot coffee dumped over her chest in a scalding pain the minute she’d heard it.
Spencer called her beautiful many, many times before, both when she’d been done up to the nines and even when she was running away from a damn wedding in the middle of a storm and she looked like a sewer rat.
But that didn’t matter, because everything about Maeve was beautiful to him, and that was where she seemed to draw the short straw. Because who would find her selfishness beautiful? Or her spoiled nature, or how she could be so crass and rude she had been in more fights before she started the BAU than she’d care to admit. But Maeve was nothing like that. She was sweet and gentle and beautiful on the inside.
Bugsy plonked his coffee down harder than she’d wanted to, and he thanked her, pausing for a second as he looked between Alex and Bugsy, the second woman now sipping her steaming coffee freely and pinning maps to an adjacent board as if she couldn’t hear a word they were saying.
“What if she doesn’t like me?” He said, fiddling with his sleeves, “I mean; I slouch, my hair’s too long, my tie is perpetually crooked,”
“Your hair’s fine,” Alex combats back, watching the girl down her drink in a few sips, “Jesus, do you have asbestos in your throat?”
Bugsy turned to her and shrugged silently, “I’m tired, I needed the caffeine,”
Alex watched her with a hesitant eye, as if she was keeping just as close an eye on her as Jennifer but didn’t want to say, before she stepped away from the doorway, “Alright, I gotta run. You kids update us if you find something out.”
And with that Blake took her leave, leaving the room in silence for a moment, and Bugsy heard Spencer thinking too loud with that big brain of his.
She sighed, tacking a map of the city up next to the other one with points of interest noted on, “You’ll be fine,” She said after a minute, and he froze.
“I’m sorry?” He asked, formally like she asked to sit next to him on the bus or to squeeze past him in a store.
“I said you’ll be just fine on your date with Maeve,” She reiterated, using a purple sharpie to start drawing the routes the victims took to work.
Spencer sighed, shuffling papers around his desk, “How can you be so sure?”
She looked at him then, properly looked at him and he felt his breath almost catch. He’d been telling another one of his half truth’s earlier, because he couldn’t very well say just how many night’s he’d thought about Bugsy being all over him, about kissing her and sweeping her off her feet, about squeezing her close to him in a passionate embrace and never letting her slip away again. He thought about all the times she professed how much she loved him and how good a friend he was to her, and how happy she made him, and how he had spent the first year of knowing her getting to know her for that big brain of hers that rivalled his own.
He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything, but he couldn’t have her. He could have Maeve though. He could meet her and fall in love with her and marry her. He could do it. But she still wouldn’t be her.
She smiled at him like she had a secret, one she was willing to share with him, one that came at a cost but she would give it to him anyway because it was him and she was so good to him and deserved so much better.
“What’s not to like about you, Spencer?” She said softly, her expression that of a street dog looking for scraps.
He swore he shuddered when she said his name like that, but he tried a smile back at her anyway. But it was too late, she’d already turned away to continue plotting the points on the map.
Spencer felt his chest swell in a way Maeve had never gotten it to do.
–
He felt stupid. Half an hour of primping himself in the BAU bathroom, worrying and fussing over what he was wearing and if his hair sat right and if his face looked too skinny, he had made it to the restaurant only to baulk at the last minute when he’d seen a guy in a booth flicking his head to look back at where he was sat in a window seat, a red rose potted in the middle of the table and an empty chair across from him.
He had panicked and called Maeve, told her to go home because her stalker was there at the restaurant, and she had done just that with little to no question. Only for him to see, minutes later, the guy he thought was her stalker being approached by another guy and he realised he had likely been looking out the window to check for taxi’s parking outside the restaurant.
Spencer had blown it, the one chance he had at meeting her in person, and he felt more like an idiot than ever.
He didn’t care about the weird rift between them at that moment, he just wanted to see Bugsy, because she always seemed to know what to say to make him feel better. Like she had a talent for it, even when he had not been the best friend himself.
He knew he had to fix it, knew it didn’t matter if it was a little unethical to be on the cusp of having a girlfriend whilst also pining after his best friend, he didn’t care. He wanted to set things right with her just to have his best friend back.
He walked up to her apartment complex, the excuse already brewing in his head that he missed Nico and Sergio, that he maybe missed her a whole lot too but he knew the cats were a sweetened deal way of getting him through the door. Because she would never say no to him seeing the boys.
And then he would tell her, that he’d been an asshole the past few weeks, that he’d been struggling to understand how to balance time between her and his almost girlfriend, because that was a much better half truth than the fact he was trying to bury his feelings for her so deep they couldn’t see the light of day or else his life would be entirely ruined.
That’s exactly what he would say.
Spencer felt a little better than he had leaving the restaurant knowing he’d messed up his chance. In all honesty, he was excited to have Bugsy back, even if his night wasn’t exactly going to plan.
He waltzed up the stairs he’d been on a million times. She loved his apartment, she always said so, but he insisted her TV was bigger and so they usually stayed at hers to watch Dr Who when the newest episodes came out.
Spencer hesitated for a second, hoping his plan worked before he rapped on the door with boney knuckles, his hand fingering the strap of his bag nervously as he heard her moving behind the door.
“One second!” She called, and he chuckled, she had probably falled asleep on the sofa without pants on, or maybe even just gotten out the shower, either way he heard her scrambling to get clothes on and then-
She swung the door open, and his eyes quickly dropped to her neck that had a long row of hickeys trailing down to her collar bone. His small smile at seeing her vanished like one of those magic tricks he liked to do, and he realised her lip gloss was smudged over her chin, her shirt definitely wasn’t her own and he didn’t actually think she had even bothered to put on underwear beneath the large band tee she’d clearly thrown on in the middle of passion.
Bugsy looked like she’d seen a ghost.
“Spencer!” She said, her voice choked up like she was exhausted, and he felt his stomach turn. He looked away from her, like he couldn’t stand to even look at her, “I thought you were with Maeve- yo-your date,”
“I had to cancel, it wasn’t safe,” He murmured, tugging the strap of the bag tighter around his shoulder.
He felt like a complete loser. More than he ever had being shoved into lockers, being dipped into toilet water, being led around by the librarian and her damn butterscotch.
Spencer felt like his chest was caving in, which he knew was fair on no one to admit, but it was true.
“Are you okay?” She asked immediately, scanning him over for wounds, “Are you hurt- Is Maeve okay?”
He opened his mouth to reply when he heard foot steps and a hand appeared around her waist, tugging her into a muscled body as the door opened wider.
“Who is it, babe?” A deep voice spoke, and Spencer felt his face go green when he saw the adonis of a man who stood behind her, his chest littered with smudged lip gloss and bruises resembling her own neck trailing down to his crotch.
Her face was on fire when Spencer looked back at her, something betrayed in the hazel of his eyes which he knew was entirely illicit to feel in the circumstances, but it was true.
“Fuck off, Renly,” She shoved him back behind the door, looking at Spencer like the friendship between them they were scrambling to salvage hung in the balance with whatever she said next. “You remember Renly, my lab partner at Johns,”
Spencer nodded, the image of her lips on his pubic bone wouldn’t leave his mind, and he wondered what came after that, “I remember him,”
She nodded back, and they went silent.
They’d found themselves back at that stalemate.
--
TAGLIST:
@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions. @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3 @rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist t @theoraekenslover @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @greenvita @busy-buzzing
#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#matthew grey gubler x reader
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Human Buddy the 5 year old and Sunstreaker being their new guardian
SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight Angst, Human reader
IDW
Sunstreaker had known Buddy since they were a baby.
Sideswipe and he were good friends with Buddy’s parents, who worked with the Autobots.
How did they all became friends? They don’t even know.
It was just decided that they were going to be friends one day and no one objected to it.
Buddy’s parents showed him Buddy first since Sideswipe was out on patrol when they came in with the baby.
“Sunny! You’re back!”--Sideswipe
Sunstreaker transforming and stretching one of his arms.
“Yeah I’m back.”--Sunstreaker
Sunstreaker looks at Sideswipe holding something in his servos.
“What you got there?”--Sunstreaker
“Remember the baby?”--Sideswipe
“Yeah? Weren’t they due…”--Sunstreaker
Sunstreakers optics widen.
“No… Sides that not…”--Sunstreaker
Sideswipe just smiles and shows his twin the tiny baby.
Sunstreaker looks at the tiny organic.
“They’re so small…”--Sunstreaker
One of the parents comes to the two.
“I see you’ve met the baby Sunny. You want to hold’em?”—Parent 1
Sunstreaker is about to say ‘no’, but Sideswipe already places the tiny being in his twin’s servo.
Sunstreaker freezes looking at the baby.
He raises one of his digits and raises it above the organic.
The baby, with a tiny bit of drool on their chin, raises their hands to the digit.
They giggle a bit patting it.
“…As long as they don’t ruin my paintjob, I guess the kid’s fine.”--Sunstreaker
“Sure Sunny, sure.”—Sideswipe
Sunstreaker sends him a look before looking back down at the new parent.
“Where’s—”--Sunstreaker
“They’re at home resting. Buddy was quite the fussy kid.”—Parent 1
“Buddy?”—Sideswipe and Sunstreaker
“That’s their name.”--Parent
Sunny loves the baby so much.
Not that he would ever say it out loud.
So does Sideswipe, but he is a bit rougher in dealing with the baby.
Meaning until Buddy gets a bit older, Sunstreaker is the one who carries Buddy, or it has to be under his supervision.
Sunstreaker claims a lot of the time to not care too much about Buddy.
That car seat and booster seat says otherwise.
“Are you sure that the car seat is strapped in correctly Verity? I swear it’s still loose.”--Sunstreaker
Verity annoyingly tugs the seatbelt harder.
“Hey!”--Sunstreaker
“It’s strapped in Sunstreaker. Nothing’s going to move it.”--Verity
“It better not.”--Sunstreaker
“Aww, Sunny you do care!”--Sideswipe
“I just don’t want the kid to smear their insides in me.”--Sunstreaker
Sideswipe and Verity having a flashback to Buddy fingerpainting on Sunstreakers pede and him encouraging their work.
“Sure Sunny, keep telling yourself that.”--Verity
Buddy’s parents started getting on more patrol together.
Which means babysitting.
Of course, there’s other reliable bots around the base who would love to babysit Buddy.
But if Sunstreaker is around, Buddy wants to be around him.
Does this strike up his ego?
Of course it does.
But he loves Buddy so there isn’t much complaint.
As they get older Sunstreaker sometimes takes them out of the base for a little drive around the neighborhood.
Sideswipe tried one time to sneak Buddy off into a drag race.
One time.
When Sunstreaker found out, there was just a yellow blur seen leaving the Ark.
Sideswipe racing with the other contenders.
“Buddy! We’re almost to the finish line! Can you see it? Can—”--Sideswipe
“SIDESWIPE!”--Sunstreaker
Sideswipe looks at one of his mirrors seeing a familiar yellow Lambo coming his tailpipe.
“SIDESWIPE I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME! PULL OVER!”--Sunstreaker
“NEVER!”--Sideswipe
Ironically, Sunstreaker won that race, but he didn’t notice being too busy hunting down Sideswipe.
Miraculously, Buddy was asleep the entire time.
Buddy’s parents soon start going on more and more ‘missions’, leaving Buddy alone with the bots.
As much as Sunstreaker loves babysitting Buddy, he does make a point with Buddy’s parents about being more present in Buddy’s life.
They simply brush the comments off.
Sunstreaker doesn’t like it.
Soon Buddy being in the base suddenly becomes a regular appearance.
Even if Sunstreaker or Sideswipe were out on a mission Buddy would still be let in the base.
The first time no one was let known that Buddy was going to be at the base, they just wandered around.
Sunstreaker nearly had a spark attack seeing Buddy on Teletran Ones desk looking downward.
His paint job was scratched that day.
Sideswipe is very concerned and angry too.
Shouldn’t Buddy’s parents be with them?
Sunstreaker and Sideswipe marching up to the human couple with Buddy by their pedes.
“Aren’t you two forgetting something?”--Sunstreaker
The pair look at each other.
“… I think we forgot to get the yogurt from the store—”—Parent 1
“Your kid! You forgot your kid!”--Sideswipe
“No one knew Buddy was in the base! They could have gotten seriously hurt if we didn’t come in.”--Sunstreaker
One of the parent’s huffs and waves their hand in dismissal.
“They’re in one of the safest places in the world. They’re fine.”—Parent 2
“And they’re FIVE! They need their parents around more.”--Sideswipe
“Again, with this? Look Sides, they’re still breathing and not bleeding, completely fine. And there is always someone on base, so they are never really alone.”—Parent 1
“But—”--Sunstreaker
“Hey, Buddy isn’t your kid Sunstreaker, so stay out of it. We are their parents, what we say goes. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”—Parent 2
Sunstreaker clenches his servos to his side but keeps quiet.
“Now, it’s date night and we have a reservation we need to get to. Buddy’s overnight bag is in the main room.”—Parent 2
“Wait, this isn’t over—”--Sideswipe
“Can’t wait gotta go, thank Sides! Thanks Sunny!”—Parent 1
The human pair races out the Ark in their car, leaving the Lambo Twins with Buddy in their car.
Buddy pats Sunstreaker’ digits.
“Sunny? Where are they going?”--Buddy
Sunstreaker glared at the direction of the couple before softening his gaze as he looked down at the child.
He reaches down and scoops them up.
“Lets just get you too bed Buddy.”--Sunstreaker
They pout a bit.
“I’m not tired.”--Buddy
“Sorry kiddo, it’s bedtime. Don’t you want to see the new room Wheeljack made for you?”—Sideswipe
“… Okay!”--Buddy
Sunstreaker feels his energon boiling.
After Buddy parents bring them back home, the five-year-old is absent from the base.
As much as it feels good for Sunstreaker to get his point across, he misses Buddy being around the base.
Two more weeks pass, while on patrol when he gets a message from Sideswipe about coming back to the base.
“Sunny! You need to come back to base now!”--Sideswipe
“Now? I am literally across the city.”--Sunstreaker
“Don’t care. Come to the med bay now.”--Sideswipe
“Med bay? What is it that I need to come back so quick—"--Sunstreaker
“It’s Buddy.”--Sideswipe
“… I’m on my way.”--Sunstreaker
Sunstreaker is lucky that there were no cops or cameras on the roads he was using.
He is rushing into the base scanning for Buddy in their usual spots.
Reaching the med bay and is greeted with the sight of Buddy playing patting cake on Sideswipes chassis.
Also, by the number of Auotbots in the room.
Optimus, Prowl, Bumblebee, Ironhide and Ratchet are present.
Sunstreaker gently picks Buddy up.
Buddy is just happy to see all their friends in one room, unaware of the danger they were just in a couple of hours ago.
“What happened?”--Sunstreaker
Prowl steps forward.
“I was out on one of my patrol routes when I saw Buddy on one of the park benches near an intersection.”--Prowl
“Now? At this time? But its almost midnight!”--Sunstreaker
“Hush!”--Ratchet
“As I was saying, I saw a suspicious looking van nearby and took them inside and drove off.”—Prowl
All the bots in the room tensed.
“A van?”--Ironhide
“Oh yeah! There was a big white van! I kind of got scared seeing it, it smelled funny. But Prowl was there so I wasn’t scared anymore. And I saw a raccoon too! It was fluffy.”--Buddy
“I have already have a report on the van if you are wondering.”--Prowl
“I got drive thru on the way here!”—Buddy
Buddy pulls out a little yellow plastic car.
“Look Sunny! It looks like you!”--Buddy
Sunstreaker just looks down at the little kid smiling widely at him.
“Yes, Buddy that’s a nice car.”--Sunstreaker
He pulls Buddy a little closer to his chassis.
“Why were they out so late?”--Bumblebee
“From what they told me, their parents left them on the bench until they came back with the moving van, am I correct Buddy?”--Prowl
Buddy looks a bit sad at this.
“Yeah, they said they would come back. They promised!”—Buddy
Buddy looks at Optimus with slightly teary eyes.
“Optimus do you know where they are?”—Buddy
Optimus comes up to the child and softly pats their head.
“I’m sorry Buddy, I do not.”--Optimus
Buddy looks down a bit.
“Do you remember at what time they dropped you off at that bench Buddy?”--Optimus
“Hmmm… I think it was lunch time. That’s why I was so hungry when we got the food.” --Buddy
Everyone is furious at the news.
Sunstreaker wants blood.
He doesn’t care if those guys were once his friends, he wants justice.
The bots end up keeping a closer optic on Buddy until they eventually fell asleep.
Ratchet takes them to their room on the Ark.
It was now time to talk about what to do with Buddy.
It was clear that their parents had deliberately abandoned them.
“I remember hearing about the adoption system—”--Prowl
“No.”--Sunstreaker
Everyone looks at Sunstreaker.
Prowl raises an optic.
“No? And what do you suggest then? You adopt Buddy?”--Prowl
“…”--Sunstreaker
“Oh Primus your serious.”--Prowl
“Sunny—”--Sideswipe
“I want to, that if the system can even allow it. Let’s faces it, I’ve been more of a parent than they have ever been.”--Sunstreaker
Prime places a servo on Sunstreaker’s shoulder.
“Maybe Verity can look at that.”--Optimus
“Really?”--Sunstreaker
“Really?”--Prowl
“Yes, that if Sunstreaker understands the weight of taking Buddy in and raising them. Then I see why not.”--Optimus
Sunstreaker firmly nods with determination.
“I do.”--Sunstreaker
“Well, if Sunny thinks he can, I’m behind him. Anyways someones gotta look after the two of them.”—Sideswipe
“And someones gotta look after you guys too! I’m in too!”—Bumblebee
Ironhide places a servo on Sunstreaker’s shoulder.
“We’re all behind ya Sunstreaker. You won’t have to raise them all by yourself.”—Ironhide
Sunstreaker smiles at this.
“Well you can all save your voice box with Verity.”--Prowl
Prowl opens one of his subspaces with a data pad.
A data pad with the digital version of adoption papers.
“Prowl? How…”--Bumblebee
Ironhide chuckles.
“Why was that in your subspace?”--Sunstreaker
“Something that you don’t need to know.”--Prowl
#transformers x reader#maccadam#human buddy#idw transformers#tf sunstreaker#tf sunstreaker x platonic reader
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Hey!! Could you please write ‘96 James with fem!reader where he’s is feeling lazy, so he lets the reader just ride his boot like a little slut?
A/n: This might just be my favourite James era. Also, I lost any and all motivation about half-way through this so I apologize but I hope you still enjoy reading it :'3
Warnings: Smut, thigh riding, boot riding??, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
It was your anniversary and you were waiting for James to get home from the studio. You were making dinner when you heard keys jingling and the front door rattling. You went over to greet James as he entered but were met with a very unhappy sight.
James just looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped and he barely smiled when he saw you. Even so he wrapped his arms around you and gave you a hug, kissing your forehead sweetly before making his way to the living room.
“Dinner’s almost ready.” You said to him as he left. You went back to cooking and when you were done you called him to the dining room.
“Just bring it here.” He said, tiredness creeping into his voice. You hesitated but gave in and brought him a plate to the living room. You made yourself comfortable beside him, even if he wasn’t in a good mood you wanted to spend such a special day with him.
He finished and asked you to get him seconds, so you did, returning back a moment later with his food. “Rough day?” You asked, wanting to get him talking.
James groaned in response. “Lars is just a fucking...” He trails off and shakes his head. You nod and lean your head against him when you get an idea.
You place your hand on his knee and trail it up his thigh. “I know what could make you feel better.” You mused, James just shook his head again.
“No, not tonight, I’m too tired.” He mumbled, poking at his second helping. You let out a sound of disappointment.
“But it’s our anniversary.” You said, looking up at him. “It’s special.” You could see in his eyes that there was frustration boiling inside him. You didn’t want to push him to anything, but you knew him well enough to get what you wanted.
“Come on, please?” You looked up at him with a pout, your hand still rubbing his thigh. “It would make me happy.” He let out a heavy sigh and you smirked to yourself. “Please?”
“Would you stop bitching in my ear for one second, please?” He snapped. The way he said it made it clear that ‘please’ was only added at the last second. You didn’t say anything more and kept your hand idle on his thigh. “Fuck, if you want it that bad get on your knees.” He demanded. You smiled happily and slid off the couch and onto your knees in front of him.
Your hands rested on his knees and you got ready to suck him off, only that’s not what he wanted. The way you were positioned you were between his legs as he manspread. He lightly kicked at your leg to get you to move over, you were confused but did as he gestured nonetheless, now hovering over his boot.
“Get yourself off.” He grunted and continued eating. You looked up at him all confusedly and he groaned. “Get yourself off!” He repeated in a firmer voice, harshly pushing the toe of his boot to meet your heat. Your eyes widened and you squirmed a bit, after collecting yourself you started grinding yourself on his boot.
You’d never done this before and it was a little awkward. James didn’t look at you, he didn’t move his foot, he just sat back and ate while he watched whatever was on the TV. It was strange, humiliating and oddly hot.
Your hips moved faster as you stared up at him, wanting to work for his attention since you knew you had to. He didn’t give you the time of day until you uttered a certain sentence.
While you’d been moaning and whining James didn’t care until you spoke up. “Daddy-daddy, ‘m gonna cum.” He finally looked down at you and with a blank expression he spoke.
“Cum on daddy’s boot.” With that your eyes rolled back and your mouth dropped open in soft moans. Your hips continued to buck against his hard boot as the high rocked through your body. “Good girl.” He praised, though there was no smile indicating he meant it. “Now keep going.” You stared up at him, cheeks flushed and breath heavy.
“What? But I-I just-”
“And take your clothes off.” James interrupted, looking back to his plate of food. “I want you to get out two more.” He stated. Knowing there was no negotiating you started stripping, almost hurt that he wasn’t watching as you did so.
Now bare you started grinding down on his boot again. The sensation was much harsher now, not only because you were still sensitive from the high but because there was nothing between your soft skin and his rough boot.
You were whining at the feeling but didn’t stop since you were already close. There was a wet spot on his boot, your slick helping to ease the texture.
Soon enough you came again, waiting a moment to calm down a bit. James swatted your cheek. “Did I say stop?” You shook your head. “Answer me, did I say stop?”
“No. No, you didn’t.” You replied, voice shaky and weak.
“Oh, I didn’t, did I?” He said, tsking. “Then why’d you stop?”
“I’m sorry.” You blurted. James shook his head and gestured for you to keep going. You did as you were told, rocking your hips on him once more.
You could see a prominent bulge in james’ jeans. Seeing that gave you some motivation because you knew that he’d be giving you more than a boot tonight, he could never go to sleep with a hard-on. So you kept grinding on him, calling out for him over and over again.
Right when you were about to cum again he pulled his foot away and stood up to bring his plate to the sink. You stared at him as he walked away for a moment before chasing after him.
“What was that? I-I wasn’t done!” You said, reaching for his hand but he pulled it away.
“I know.” He said plainly. “Neither was I.” He ran some water over his empty plate and set it to the side. Still you watched his every move.
James wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight to him and crashed his lips onto yours. He pushed you back against the counter and spread your legs with his knee, guiding you to grind on his clothed thigh.
Now there was a small wet spot as he pulled another orgasm out of you, but he didn’t stop. And maybe that was the plan. Come home pretending he’d had a rough day and give you everything you needed except for his dick. Whatever the reason, drool was slipping down your chin and you couldn’t be happier.
#metallica#metallica fanfiction#metallica imagines#metallica smut#metallica x reader#james hetfield#james hetfield fanfiction#james hetfield x reader#james hetfield smut
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bsf!Rafe who for once gets jealous and annoyed, and it's reader's time to remind him he's still reader's favorite boy
I adore your mind anon 😭😭 jealousy is such a pretty color on rafe <3 this is fr my favourite pairing to write for at the moment so I’m literally always and forever willing to discuss thoughts on them!! <3
bsf!rafe who gets sad jealous when he sees some other guy flirt with you… <3 listen to babydoll by ari abdul, cause rafe calls reader babydoll hehe <3 cw: suggestive content (no actual smut): intimacy, tension and neck kissing, rafe gets jealous, minimal swearing, rafe calls reader babydoll once, reader is a no bullshit taking kind of person, alcohol consumption <3 for @chenslucy (I love love love you heaps anna 💚)
part of this little universe <3
you didn’t even mean to, it just happened.
he cornered you at the bar when all you wanted was to get some beer for you and rafe, and said things like he’s been looking at you since you came inside the party mansion, and thought you’re the prettiest person he’s ever laid his eyes on. you knew it’s all the alcohol in his system talking; he wasn’t even all up in your face yet you could smell the alcohol on his breath.
it took you quite some time to tear away from the conversation; after a lot of convincing from your side that you were not into him, even when he kept on flattering you more and more. you finally escaped the conversation, letting out a deep sigh as you hold two cups of beer in your hand, the next task being to find rafe in the huge crowds.
little did you know, you were under the microscopic vision of rafe. he was in a corner of the party, watching you with his hawk like eyes as the guy talked with you. he couldn’t hear a thing, but from what he saw from the distance, you were being flirted with, and he wasn’t sure you were trying to avoid him or were enjoying it.
he contemplated coming over to break the conversation off, but decided against it. he didn’t know why, but he decided to just watch it all play out, and to see how you react. but what was not helping was his burning jealousy. how can some other man talk to you that way, and even think of making you his?
with a lot of struggle, you found your way through the crowds and finally spotted rafe. you could see he’s slumped in a corner, a scowl on his face. “here you go,” you said, holding out his cup as you took a sip from your own cup. rafe didn’t even look at you, just took the cup from your hand and gulped down most of the beer in one go.
“geez calm down,” you said, furrowing your brows a bit as you watched him down his drink too quick. he still didn’t look at you, and only finished off the drink in another sip. he tossed the empty plastic cup somewhere aside on the floor, and you watched it roll off and get crunched under someone’s foot.
you looked back up to see rafe’s jaw tightened, the scowl had not left him and his eyes were narrow. he was looking anywhere but at you.
“what’s up with you?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink and peering at him from over the rim of the cup.
“nothin’,” he mumbled incoherently under his breath, still not making any sort of eye contact with you. his eyes roamed around the party almost nervously, as if examining each detail and fixing it in his mind.
you rolled your eyes at his answer. “that’s not gonna cut it, come on, out with it. what’s up?”
he grumbled something incoherently again, but this time, you were not having it at all. the lack of eye contact, the bare minimum words; you had enough.
you took hold of his wrist and practically dragged him out of the party mansion, maneuvering through the sweaty crowd of young adults. rafe got caught off guard at first, but didn’t fight and he followed your lead. you led him outside where it was much more quiet, the music a blur and maybe a person or two hanging out, but it was more or less quite silent. you both were right besides the pool, and you sat down, pulling him with you too.
“what’s wrong? speak up, now, because I’m not having that mumbling nonsense you’ve been doing,” you said, your voice a bit cold as you took a sip of your drink.
you could see rafe looking at the water in the pool, the reflections of the calm water dancing across his handsome face.
“jus’ didn’t like you flirting with that dude, ’s all,” he muttered.
you furrowed your brows at him, almost confused as to what he was referring to but catching up quickly. “I wasn’t flirting with him, he was flirting with me. and being quite forward about it too,”
“yeah but you were smiling and laughing, don’t think I didn’t catch that,” he muttered again, his gaze not leaving the pool water.
“cause I was tryna let him down easy! I didn’t want to come off extremely rude,” you said.
rafe didn’t say anything or looked up from the water. you let out a sigh at the sight and kept your cup aside, scooting closer to him.
“look at me rafe,” you mumbled, your breath dancing across his ear. he slowly turned his head, his blue eyes meeting yours under the reflections of the water; the reflections a subtle green due to the dark green tiles at the bottom of the pool.
“I don’t care about that random dude, at all,” you murmured. “I never would, okay? fuck, I didn’t even catch his name, and frankly, I’m not interested in knowing his name,”
you could see his eyes softening. the moonlight along with the green water reflections lightened his eyes to an electric blue instead of the warm blue you usually saw him with.
“yeah?” he whispered, his brain suddenly registering how close you were to him.
“mhm,” you hum, your hand coming up to rest at the side of his neck as you gently rubbed the skin with your thumb.
you could see rafe’s eyes fluttering when he felt you starting to apply some pressure at the side of his neck, almost as if the sensation was sparking the feeling of pleasure in his veins.
“why would I do that when… I’ve got you?” you whispered, your hand coming off his neck for a moment but quickly replaced by your lips, a gentle kiss delivered under the whites of the moon and the greens of the pool.
rafe let out a soft sigh at the feeling, his head involuntarily tilting back as his hands slipped around your shoulders, holding onto you for stability when your kisses became more repetitive, yet were slow and lingered on his skin for a moment each time.
“you’re my favorite boy, always and forever, and don’t you ever forget that yeah?” you whispered, your lips parting from his neck for a second before attaching themselves back again, the same slow speed carried by you.
you could feel rafe’s nails dig into your shoulders through the fabric of your clothing, and that only prompted you to kiss him even more.
as your lips trailed up to his ear to gently press behind the delicate skin of his ear, rafe’s lips parted to let out the softest gasp, his body only craving that sensation on every inch of his skin.
“oh…” he gasped softly, tightening his hold on your shoulders.
“oh babydoll...”
— —
I think bsf!rafe’s nickname for reader would totally be babydoll, might include that more in the rest of the fics for them :p ANYWAYS I love them so so much and I would love to have any requests you may have for them ahhhh
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron oneshot#rafe cameron concept#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron prompt#bsf!rafe x reader#bsf!rafe#written by edith! 🪄#anon! 🪄#edith answers! 🪄
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Call Me Back- Chris Sturniolo
Paring- Chris Sturniolo and Y/n
Description- Chris has been ignoring you for a while, upsetting you, until one night he shows up at your apartment.
Warnings- angst, crying. Remember everything is fictional! Nothing here applies to real life.
NOT PROOF READ!
You had really been upset this past week. Chris had been distant this week. At first, you thought he was busy with filming and that he needed space.
But it had gotten more complicated.
He stopped answering your calls and texts. You could see his likes on other girls' social media.
Another thing- you didn’t care about whose posts he liked, whether they were girls or not.
It was that he was liking pictures of half-naked girls was what got to you.
You could feel your heart swell when you got a notification.
Chris.sturniolo made a post
You clicked on the notification. A picture popped up. It looked like Chris was at a party. He had that big bright smile the one he would always show around you.
What really caught your attention though, was that his arm was clinging onto another girl's waist.
The girl was leaning her head on his shoulder, and her arm was on his other shoulder.
You felt your heart crack. Had he found another girl? Is that why he had been ignoring you?
The girl did look perfect for him though. Golden brown hair. Crisp, green eyes. Big, perfect pink lips. You felt your heart crack even more. It looked like a match made in heaven.
You hadn’t even realized tears welled up in your eyes until they started streaming down your cheeks. You choked a sob, as you sank into your pillow.
You didn’t like your emotions getting the best of you but when they did, it was too late.
What if you were just overreacting? What if she was just a close friend?
But you saw how both their eyes showed happiness. Connection. Love.
You cried yourself to sleep that night.
___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___
Two more days passed. Two more notifications, each day. Each post with the same girl. The same bright eyes.
The same smile. The same pang of pain in your heart. You had tried calling him too, but he would just ignore your calls, or not answer.
You decided that you did want to live a sob story, so you went to the grocery store, hoping to at least be productive and get some tasks done.
You found yourself driving to target, hoping to buy some things. For one: food. It was always your comfort.
You also needed to buy your daily necessities, like toilet paper and soaps.
And you defiantly bought snacks and candy.
You thought things were going well. You thought you could avoid any possible thought of Chris at all today.
You were literally finished checking out your items.
But no. The world must really hate you.
The way your heart shattered when you heard that laugh. As you saw those brown locks of hair.
Chris.
And you heard the female laughter following. That golden brown hair. Those deep, crisp, green eyes. That girl.
You couldn’t bring yourself to move. At all. Who is she? Why do I feel like this? You couldn’t bring yourself to speak.
And the next thing you knew, they were right in front of you. “Oh hey y/n!” You heard Chris’s voice. You couldn’t utter a word.
You couldn’t hear, you couldn’t feel you couldn’t speak. Are you alright? He asked. Are you okay?
I can’t do this. You finally snapped back to reality, and you ran. You ran right out of that store. You couldn’t turn back.
He had ignored you for almost a week and a half. Hadn’t picked up any of your calls. And now suddenly acting like he cares? You couldn’t do this.
You cried as soon as you got home.
___---___---___---___---___---___---___
What time is it? Was your first thought as you woke up. You rubbed your eyes. Sighed. You needed to relax.
You grabbed your phone, a blanket, and snacks from your kitchen, and made your way to the living room.
10 things I hate about you. Thats what you decided to put.
You wrapped the blanket around yourself, its warmth covering you, protecting you, keeping you safe. Why can’t they be Chris’s arms.
You were about halfway into the movie and on your third bowl of popcorn when you heard a knock on the door. You sighed, not wanting to get up.
The knocks wouldn’t stop, so you forced yourself to answer it.
“What are you doing here,” you asked. Where’s your new girl? You wanted to ask. Why haven’t you broken up with me?
“I wanted to see if you were alright.” he said.
“You wanted to see if I was okay?” you could feel your voice rising.
“Oh Chris I’ve been great. I’ve just been ignored for a whole week by my boyfriend, not to mention that he’s been hasn’t been answering my texts of calls, and hanging out with some girl I don’t even know?”
You were crying at this point. “So yeah Chris. I’ve been doing great.” He was silent for a moment, his eyes showing pure heartbreak.
You couldn’t. You completely broke down. Sobbing.
Chris knew you didn’t like crying. That’s why he was so shocked. It broke his heart that he made you feel this way.
He pulled you into a hug, murmuring soft, reassuring words into your ear. “Shhh, you're alright pretty girl. Don’t cry. Please.” his voice cracked on the last word.
Once you had calmed down a bit, both of you took a seat on the couch.
“10 things I hate about you,” he said. “That’s always been your comfort movie.” You nodded your head.
A few moments passed. “Look y/n, I owe an apology. I’m sorry I haven’t reached out in what feels like forever.” he sighed. “What about that girl?” you asked.
That’s what was bothering you the most.
“Yeah um, she's the reason. Ally. She was one of my best friends in middle school, and she surprised me by showing up out of nowhere. She moved away right before high school- before we even met. I was just happy to see her when she came. She has a boyfriend, you know.”
“Oh,” was all you could manage with a voice crack. “I-I’m so sorry.” Guilty guilty I feel so guilty.
I felt a tear slip down my cheek, many more following. For the second time, Chris pulled me into a hug, kissing my hair and rubbing my back. “It’s not your fault pretty girl. Don’t cry. I promise you.”
His touch leaves a trail of butterflies on my skin. “I’m sorry for ignoring you, my sweet girl. I promise you that won’t happen again.”
You sniffled as you hugged him burying your face into the crook of his neck. He suddenly picked you up bridal style. “Lets get you showered and ready for bed, yeah?”
You nodded your head. Love Love Love in his eyes. “Chris I love you.”
He looked down at you and smiled that warm warm smile. “I love you too baby.”
tags- @tillies33ssss @theyluvme-2315 @alorsxsturn @maya555sblog
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris smut#chris x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo imagine#nicolas sturniolo#Spotify#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fluff#matt x reader#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic#fanfic#sturniolo x you
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To Be Loved Is To Be Considered
Summary: The moments that Wanda considered Y/n aka the moments her loved showed.
Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship
A/n: I know y’all love angst but please give this fluff a chance too. GIF credits to @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo
Word Count: 1.3k
Masterlist
Love is not always about the sacrifices you do but rather the moments in life where you consider more than yourself. To be loved is to be considered. And this is how Wanda considered Y/n.
On no particular evening, Y/n lay asleep on the living room couch after finishing her part of the shared chores. Wanda still had one more thing on her list when she noticed her girlfriend was sound asleep.
Tiptoeing closer, the red head saw the slight shiver on Y/n’s skin. Wanda clicked her tongue in disapproval and used her magic to get the blanket from the living room. Grabbing it from the air, she placed the blanket on top of Y/n and placed a small kiss on her forehead.
The music in the background was lowered to a small hum as Wanda continued with her chores, the last thing being on her list was to water the plants.
Taking her time, Wanda danced around their apartment as she watered the plants, even murmuring small affirmations to certain plants that were taking a while to grow.
And after 20 minutes, feeling satisfied with the clean apartment, Wanda slipped under the blanket and cuddled into her warm girlfriend. It didn’t take long for the red head to fall into a small slumber.
Y/n has a certain lazy personality when it comes to her safety, something Wanda has always hated. But no matter how many times the red head will berate her girlfriend, Y/n never listens. In her head, as long as she gets back to Wanda, that’s all that matters.
So as Y/n sat in the long pre-mission briefing, Wanda had always checked Y/n’s suit for safety. Any time gadgets need an update, Wanda would be the first to put in the request. When she notices a hindrance in Y/n’s performance, Wanda could always tell why and how certain modifications can help.
Wanda paid attention to make sure that Y/n could focus solely on her job.During the times where they are partnered up, Wanda was always glad to double check over her work.
Y/n knew that when her suit always felt up to date, never without holes before a mission, and surprisingly clean, that Wanda must’ve done something.
So in turn, Y/n never failed to come back to Wanda.
The warm dim vibe of the restaurant contrasted the loud activity that happened throughout. Wanda and Y/n sat closer to the bar, already dinning in.
It was date night, Wanda had been wanting to try a new spot in LA with great views and amazing food. “You made a great choice, babe.” Wanda smiled at Y/n’s praise.
“Should we get a couple of drinks?” As Y/n nodded in agreement, the waiter came with the food. “Here you go ladies.”
As he sat the food down, Y/n bit back the frown when she noticed the greens she specifically didn’t want mixed with her alfredo. Looking over Wanda’s food, Y/n smiled at how perfect it turned out.
“At least they got her’s right,” Y/n thought.
“Does everything look good?” The waiter asked, waiting for approval.
“Yeah everything-,” Wanda glanced at her girlfriend’s food with a disapproving look ready to say something but Y/n had interrupted her.
“Yeah, everything looks good. Thank you.” The waiter smiled and walked away. Once he was out of sight, Y/n sighed at her food.
“You should’ve let me say something dekta.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to argue with Wanda.
“I really don’t like complaining to them Wanda. Wait staff already have a lot on their hands.” Although Wanda knew they were both right, she was still unhappy to see Y/n unable to eat.
So as Y/n drank her water, Wanda switched their plates. Y/n almost disagreed, but the look on Wanda’s face silenced Y/n. “Now eat, let’s not waste a lovely date night now.”
Y/n smiled and took a bite of the steak, the juicy and flavorful feeling filled her mouth. As they continued the date, Y/n gave Wanda a couple pieces of steak as a small thank you.
“Dekta, I’m home!” Wanda placed her keys in the bowl and walked into the kitchen, dropping the grocery bag on the counter.
“In here, babe!” Y/n yelled from the office. Once Wanda put away the groceries, her eyes finally set on the gift waiting for her at the kitchen table.
Walking to it, Wanda smiled at the bouquet of flowers wrapped in brown paper. In the middle, a note read ‘For my beautiful and lovely girlfriend, Wanda. Love, your dekta.’
She picked it up, enjoying the smell. Right beside it sat the Sokovian treats that she had mentioned craving the other day.
Already opening a pack, Wanda walked into the office, a gift in hand. Y/n was in the middle of playing video games, her back facing Wanda.
“Pause the game and close your eyes, dekta.” Y/n paused the game.
“Am I in trouble?” Wanda giggled as she placed the gift in Y/n’s lap, giving a small peck on her forehead.
“You’re not in trouble. But open them.” Y/n opened her eyes, mouth slack at the sight of a new gaming controller. The plastered smile on her face made Wanda smile even more.
“I hope you like the color.”
“Like it?!!” Y/n was flabbergasted by the gesture, immediately pulling Wanda in for a massive hug.
“Thank you so much, babe! I can game so much better with this.”
“Maybe then you can aim.” Y/n pouted at the slight jab from Wanda but still kissed her nonetheless.
“I’ll have you know, I blame the drift on my old controller.”
“Yeah, yeah. Give me another kiss so you can play your game.” Y/n pulled Wanda in for a deeper kiss, feeling happy for the unexpected gift.
As Wanda’s smile broke the kiss, she gave her girlfriend another peck on the lips and went back to the kitchen to grab her snacks. She ate them in their office as she watched her girlfriend still miserably lose in Overwatch.
In their shared bed, Wanda sat in her spot, reading the new book assigned for the month. Laying beside her, Y/n watched a new show on Netflix, making sure to keep the volume low to not disturb Wanda.
“Babe, can you mess with my hair?” Before Wanda could utter yes, Y/n had already laid her head down on her lap, settling herself in a comfortable position.
Without a word, Wanda used her free hand and combed her fingers through Y/n’s hair. A soft groan escaped Y/n’s lips, as she said, “What page are you on?”
“Only in the second chapter, she’s being transported to a new place after killing the wolf.” Y/n hummed in response and continued to watch.
While Wanda combed through Y/n’s hair, she began to notice how her hand hadn't felt plastic frames. Realizing that her girlfriend had been unable to see the show this whole time, Wanda stopped her book. She briefly put it down to notice her girlfriend’s glasses were on the desk across the room.
Rolling her eyes, she continued to read as her magic floated the glasses right in front of Y/n. As if it was a silent command, Y/n put on her glasses, a small smile on her lips as she could finally see clearly.
Y/n placed a small kiss on Wanda’s thigh as a thank you. Together, the two continued to enjoy each other’s activities in the presence of each other.
Love is not always grand. Love is mostly kind. Feeling considered is something the heart will forever crave. And Wanda will always consider Y/n.
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@msmothermaximoff @ielliesitchyeyereposts
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#Girlfriend!Reader x Wanda Maximoff#established relationship#Girlfriend!Reader#fluff#To Be Loved Is To Be Considered#mionemymind#wanda maximoff#marvel
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