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steddiealltheway · 11 months

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Modern AU stuff is stuck in my head.

Thinking of one where Robin gets a new number and scribbles it down for Steve in a rush because she has a Tinder date with a really cute girl, and she does not have time for Steve to inevitably mistype his phone password several times before finding his contacts app. She rips off the scrap of paper and shoves it at Steve as she rushes to finish her hair and retouch up her mascara.

“Robin, you look great.”

Robin huffs, “I don’t need to look great. I need to look fantastic! You saw the girl! She’s hot, and, for once, I had such a great conversation and we were immediately connecting, you know?”

She rambles on as Steve rolls his eyes and tries to tune her out a bit. It’s not that he isn’t happy for her, it’s just… he’s suffering from a small, embarrassing crush on Dustin’s older friend. And while he knows he could just ask him out like any other person, he finds himself at a loss for words in front of the hyper man. And usually, Steve is more than happy to ramble about random shit and flirt until he has the person practically melting into a puddle of goo at his feet.

All he’s saying is Eddie Munson is different.

And he doesn’t know what to do about it but suffer in silence until their inevitable interactions where he unapologetically shoves his way into his space and calls him little flirtatious nicknames that make Steve’s mind go blank.

Steve has never felt so flustered in his life.

A snap brings him back to reality, and he looks at Robin who does a final spin and asks, “Good?”

Steve looks her over and smiles. “Perfect. Now, go have fun and be safe. I’ll text you to make sure she’s not a serial killer or something.”

“That’s comforting,” Robin says but looks in the mirror one more time before nodding and rushing off yelling, “Bye!”

Steve looks down at the piece of paper in his hand a cringes and the hurried scribbles. Hopefully he’ll be able to decipher it correctly.

He watches through the window, trying not to look too creepy, as Robin climbs into the car with a big smile before it slowly starts moving down the street. Steve feels better once he sees her date is a careful driver.

Steve waits a few more minutes before he makes his way out of the house and goes to his own. Once he gets into his room, he pulls out the piece of paper and types it into his contacts - after messing up the password and struggling to find his contacts.

Steve: So not a serial killer I hope?

There’s instantly some typing back that worries Steve. Shouldn’t Robin be distracted by her date?

Robin: Not a serial killer but you might be… who is this? You intrigue me.

Not Robin. Steve’s heart races as he looks at the scrap of paper. Damn scribbled mess.

Steve: Sorry!! I must’ve typed in the wrong number. Friend is on a first date and was checking in

Not Robin: So sweet of you. Although it makes me nervous that you have no way of contacting your friend and finding out

Steve hadn’t even thought of that. His heart races more. He’s always been one to worry.

Steve: Shit.

Not Robin: Do they have an Instagram that you can message and ask for their number? Not that I mind texting you this lonely Friday night, but it’s probably a good option

He sighs in relief. The stranger is smart and honestly a bit charming. It’s definitely a lonely Friday night for him too. He goes to Instagram and send Robin a quick message before returning to his texts.

Steve: You’re a genius! But what’s a genius doing alone this Friday night?

He stares at the message before sending it. No regrets.

He looks at it for a minute longer as the stranger doesn’t reply. Okay, maybe he has some regrets.

He starts typing out an apology, but a response comes in.

Not Robin: Nothing much really. Debating playing my guitar or staring at my ceiling for a few hours. Both very exciting options. Although I like this new option of texting you more… I will say I’m a 20 year old male though. Don’t want to be texting a minor or some shit.

Steve stares at the message and his heart thuds. 20 year old male. What are the chances?

Steve: 19 year old male here, so you’re in the clear. Unless one of us is lying.

Not Robin: hmm… that makes you sound a bit suspicious but I’ll pinky promise that I’m not lying to you on my end if you’ll do the same

Steve smiles at the message as he types back.

Steve: Pinky promise ❤️

He stares at the heart that’s a little bold, but hey. Why not take a risk?

Not Robin: Looks like my night is getting a lot better

Steve laughs and can’t help but think the same thing.

-:-:-:-:-:-

They text nonstop for the next few days. Steve opens his soul more than he has in years, and the stranger does the same in return. They flirt and exchange jokes and whatnot as well, but Steve always looks forward to when it’s late at night, and the stranger is always up and willing to hear some of his deepest thoughts.

Robin’s worried a bit about the person being some lying creep, but Steve isn’t too worried. He’s given away nothing too personal… except his crush on Eddie Munson.

He hasn’t told the stranger the name of his crush or exactly how he knows him, but in response, the stranger talks about his own hopeless crush on this hot guy who doesn’t really say much to him. They both joke about how they’re hopeless, and Steve almost wonders if he’s falling for the stranger alongside Eddie.

But it’s a crazy thought. The guy could be halfway across the country, but Robin argues that they’re nearby with the way the area codes match.

Steve just shrugs it off and tries not to think too hard about it.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Two weeks pass and Steve finds himself giggling in his bed at 2am, trying to fight sleep as the stranger rattles on about some kid he’s friends with that sounds oddly like Dustin. Steve shares his own stories about his Dustin and his annoying habits, but the two of them agree they wouldn’t change a single thing about their friends.

Not Robin: By the way, I’m going to be MIA for a few hours tomorrow. Got this sort of big game coming up.

Steve’s heart drops a bit at the thought. Tomorrow he was going to try to get a pep talk from the stranger before he has to face Eddie after the big final to his Dnd campaign.

Steve: damn. I’ll miss you. I’ll be hyping myself up tomorrow before I see my guy. Think you could give a brief pep talk?

He watches as the stranger types for a while, but is surprised with how short the text ends up being.

Not Robin: Just be yourself. If he can’t see how amazing you are, then he’s not the right guy for you 🖤 goodnight, stranger. Wish me luck as I will be seeing my guy too

Steve stares at the heart and feels his own heart beating fast.

Steve: Good luck :) Same to you 🤍. But hey, try to get his number this time! Goodnight

He feels his stomach kind of flip at the idea.

Not Robin: thank you. I’ll try

Steve hearts the message and puts his phone down. He stares at the ceiling and tries not to think too hard about the jealous feeling in the pit of his stomach as he drifts off.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve is slightly freaking out. He’s about to see Eddie, and he’s decided if his stranger is finally going to get his crush’s number, then he’ll ask Eddie for his. It’ll be fine. It’ll be great.

He stares at the school and waits for Dustin to bust out the doors with Eddie trailing behind him. Steve nervously pulls out his phone.

Steve: About to see my guy and I’m freaking tf out! Miss you :( you always know what to say

He sees his stranger typing and his heart races.

Not Robin: Weird, I’m about to see mine too. But I’m gonna ask him for his number!! I’m determined. But hey, I’ve miss you too :( game just ended by the way

Not even seconds later, the doors to the school open, and Steve watches as Eddie comes out behind Dustin looking at his phone before turning it off and pocketing it. Steve’s heart races.

“Steve! Eddie’s campaign was incredible! I almost died twice, but Will ended up saving all our asses when he rolled a nat twenty during our final battle! It was so cool!” Dustin says running up to Steve.

He laughs and nods not totally understanding what he’s saying. But he sees Eddie come closer out of the corner of his eye. Okay. Get his number. Easy enough. He can do it. His stranger believes in him.

“Okay, you can tell me all about it on the way home. Just give me a minute here,” Steve says patting Dustin on the shoulder as he approaches Eddie for once. He feels like he might pass out.

“Hey,” Eddie says with a big smile.

“Hey yourself. Heard that it was a good game,” Steve says, trying not to do a little dance at how he’s able to get a full sentence out.

It seems to also surprise Eddie who has a blush rise to his face. “I was hoping it would be. Um…” he trails off and kicks a rock on the ground. “So, I was uh. Wondering if…” he takes a deep breath and looks at Steve. “Wondering if I could get your number? In case… you know… something happens with Dustin or something. I don’t know,” Eddie rambles out and pulls a piece of hair in front of his face.

Steve digs out his phone with a big smile. “How about I get yours?”

Eddie smiles and his hands drop down to fidget with his rings as he rattles out his number. Steve goes to his messages and types it in, only it shows the number appear as Not Robin.

Steve shakes his head and deletes the number. Surely he did something wrong. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

Eddie nods and repeats his number slower. It pops up again. Not Robin.

Steve’s heart thuds. “Uh…” he says and then carefully repeats the number back.

Eddie smiles and nods.

Steve swallows. Shit shit. Holy shit. Not Robin is Eddie. He’s been talking to Eddie this whole time and bearing his soul and talking about him to him. Holy shit what is life?

“Hey, Steve, you okay?” Eddie asks, concerned written all over his face when Steve glances up.

Steve stares and nods. “Um… just… you’re really not going to believe this.”

Eddie’s brows furrow. “Believe what?”

Steve takes a deep breath and types out a message to Not Robin.

Steve: Hey Eddie :)

Eddie’s phone dings and he looks at the message before doing a double take at it. His jaw drops. “You’re…”

“Yeah,” Steve replies.

Eddie nods looking like he’s half on the verge of panicking. “And your guy is…”

“You,” Steve admits then his heart races. “And your guy?”

“You,” Eddie says as his tongue comes up to worry his top lip.

Steve lets out a sigh of relief, “Oh, thank god. I’ve been falling for both of you this whole time.”

“Me too,” Eddie says with a laugh. He holds Steve’s gaze. “So… what do we do from here…”

Steve scratches his cheek and shrugs. “Well, I say we take a night to connect the dots about everything and then go on a date tomorrow? Eight o’clock? I’ll text you details tonight.”

“Sounds perfect,” Eddie says with a big grin. Steve nods and starts to walk back to his car where he feels like he’s about to have a full happy breakdown. “Steve?” Eddie calls out.

Steve turns around and looks at him.

“The buttheads we’ve been talking about are Dustin, right?”

Steve laughs and can’t help it as he walks back to Eddie throwing his arms around him in a hug. “God, I missed you tonight.”

Eddie squeezes him back, “I missed you, too.” They pull away but stay close. “This is going to take a bit of getting used to. Both my dreams guys are you.”

“Same here. Shit.” Steve takes a moment to look into Eddie’s eyes. “I really want to kiss you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Eddie says leaning in.

The car horn beeps loudly causing them to both jump back. “Listen!” Dustin yells leaning out the window, “I don’t know what the fuck I missed, but I would appreciate it if you filled me in on the way home before my mom starts freaking out!”

Steve sighs and drops his head to Eddie’s chest. “What a butthead.”

Eddie laughs and hugs him again. “Tomorrow,” he says like a promise.

“Tomorrow,” Steve says pulling away and raising up his pinky towards Eddie. He smiles down at it and links his pinky with his.

The car horn goes off again.

“Alright alright! I’m coming!” Steve yells over his shoulder then gives Eddie one last pinky squeeze before walking away.

This is going to be a long car ride, but Steve doesn’t mind at all.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet

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rustedhearts · 2 months

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just friends (roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: you and steve have been just friends for years now. but how long can you convince everyone you're 'just friends' before it becomes a lie? or steve harrington is your super hot roommate and everyone thinks it's stupid you guys aren't dating yet.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the library

tags: roommate!steve, kinda shitty boyfriend!eddie, pining, fluff, angst, casual dominance from our casual dominance king steve, honestly going to try so hard not to make this a series but you know me.

a/n: i've wanted to write roommate!steve for so ages. you can thank a much-needed new girl binge and my tendency to take my frustration out on my mop for this.

The bass-heavy bump of music came at Steve full force before he even stepped out of the elevator. He paused, staring down the door of your shared apartment knowing that the sight that would welcome him would not be pretty.

In the kitchen, you were hunched over the handle of a mop, furiously dragging it over a sliver of tile. Teeth gritted together, face flushed and damp with sweat, hair disheveled and pulled away from your face, a pair of cotton shorts and an old t-shirt rolled up to the shoulders—you were a mess.

You were sad.

"Uh-oh." Steve stepped into the room, calling over the booming music. "What happened?"

You jumped a little, accustomed to the quiet of the apartment on Saturday nights. Steve almost always spent weekend nights at the bar down the street hitting on girls too sweet for him. You usually had until at least 11:30 to do whatever you wanted before some random girl came scampering in, clinging to Steve and giggling as they fumbled to his room.

But he was home early. And no matter how long you'd lived together, or how well he knew you, you still hated being seen like this.

So, you never took your eyes off the mop, scrubbing away a sauce stain on the tile.

"Nothing." You shrugged, flicking wisps of hair out of your eyes.

Steve watched you whirl around to drag the mop toward the bucket again. You stabbed it into the soapy water with a vengeance, nose scrunching with every slosh and splash. Steve leaned against the doorway and quirked a brow.

"Yeah? You're playing your sad music, though."

Your sad music consisted of a handful of hard rock records that most people would consider music for a dive bar—but you only ever played it when you were staving off tears. The louder you played it, the more upset you were.

Steve knew you a little too well.

This comment went ignored as you slapped the mop back on the floor and continued an angered scrubbing. Steve sighed, scratching at his temple. Most of the time, it was best to leave you alone. Sometimes, you needed to talk it out. It took a little coaxing—a pizza and a cold glass of Coke with a straw usually did the trick—but eventually, you'd spill.

And Steve would fix it.

Calm you down, help you figure it out, offer some advice. He gave pretty good advice for someone still struggling to get his own shit figured out.

Steve could tell from the way the song went unsung, the way you huffed every time the mop head flipped, the way you started stomping your foot when you found a stale French fry under the stove—you needed him to step in.

Pushing off the wall, Steve crossed the room and placed his hand over yours on the mop handle.

"Hey. Hey, come on."

You struggled at first, scowling at him as you tugged on the handle. "Stop it."

He sighed again. He was always sighing at you like a disappointed teacher.

"Hey." A little firmer this time, accompanied by a sharp snatch of the handle from your grasp into his. When you dropped your hands and obliged, the furrow of his brow relaxed. "Thank you. Now, why don't you go take a shower. The house is clean enough."

You frowned, wiping at the sweat on your head. "I just—"

Steve pressed his hand flat into the small of your back, steering you toward the door. "Seriously, honey, it's fine. You do stink, though."

That made your lip twitch—a semblance of a smile—with an amused little huff. You took a step toward the door, slippered feet scuffing. You looked over your shoulder toward Steve standing where you left him, still holding the mop.

He waved you off. "Go on. Take a nap, too.”

You nodded, flashing a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks, Steve."

He watched you shuffle away, shoulders slumped and eyes down as you went. He propped the mop against the kitchen counter and shook his head at the mess of cleaning supplies on the table.

When he heard the bathroom door clamp shut and the hiss of the shower head turn on, Steve rushed the front door again.

He opened it a smidge, enough to fit his head in and smile sweetly at the girl waiting in the hall picking at her nails. She perked up, stepping toward the door eagerly.

"Hey," Steve cooed, voice dripping with honey. "I'm so sorry, my roommate got sick all over. I think s-he needs to go to the doctor, so...would you mind if we raincheck?"

The girl—Sarah, as he would recall later on—broke into a concerned pout, clasping her hands over her chest. "Oh my god, that's terrible! You're so sweet taking care of him."

Steve chuckled, a breezy smile on his mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for understanding."

She tipped her head, adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder. "Of course. Call me when he's feeling better?"

Steve nodded, knowing the phone number in his back pocket would dissolve in the washer in a week, and he had no intention of ever calling her to begin with.

"Yeah, for sure. Night."

"Goodnight."

He waited until the elevator dinged, watching the doors close on her grinning face, before pulling back into the apartment and locking the door. He blew a sigh out of his cheeks, head shaking as he headed toward the hall.

The shower had stopped, and he could hear the soft, wet patters of your feet behind the door when he leaned against the wall beside it. He knocked two knuckles gently into the wood.

"Honey?" he called. "Need anything? Wanna order a pizza?"

He waited, adjusting the hem of his shirt to spread out a wrinkle in the fabric. He knew what the answer would be, but he couldn't always be so obvious. He had to pretend that he didn't know you like the back of his hand, because everyone started telling him how weird it was.

"You've lived with this girl for two years and haven't boned? You're either gay or dumb as a box of fuckin' rocks," is what Max told him when they met for lunch a few months ago.

Everyone said the same thing. His sister, who teased him at birthday parties and summer barbecues that you were always his date for. Sabrina did everything in her power to push the two of you closer together at family events, ensuring your seats were always paired and your activities were always coupled up.

"You look at her like a dog with a bone," she teased last Fourth of July.

But Steve only shook his head, glancing your way where you were helping his mother decorate cupcakes. You were dating some guy in IT at the time. Total fucking nerd. He made you pay for most of the dates.

"Nah...we're just friends. She's got a boyfriend."

We're just friends was probably Steve's most popular sentence in the English language since the day he met you. A pair of college graduates who had no clue what the hell they were supposed to do with their lives, roommate-matched by the apartment complex and so content with each other that you just kept renewing the lease.

When you finally replied to his question, your voice came like a small, pipping whisper behind the door. "Yeah...but with mushrooms this time?"

This time, as if you didn't order a mushroom and sausage pizza every time. Steve smiled, pushing off the wall.

"Okay—"

"And—"

"And sausage, I know. I'll call 'em."

"Okay."

While Steve called the pizza place a few blocks over, you clutched a towel to your chest and padded to your room. You pulled on the softest items you owned and sat on the end of your bed. A long day of cleaning certainly tired you out, but that wasn't what ailed you.

It was the fight with your boyfriend last night at the bar, when he yelled at you for laughing at Steve's jokes even though you always did. He thought you were too close, too "chummy" to be just friends.

Unbeknownst to Steve, we're just friends was one of your most common phrases, too. You should've had it engraved on your forehead at this point.

"Hey." Two knuckles on your door this time before it skittered open. Steve popped his head in and grinned at you. "Wearin' my favorite sweatpants? Must be feelin' better."

You glanced down at the black sweatpants on your legs, snickering softly. Steve thought they hugged your ass perfectly, and loved the way they flared at the calves. The logo right on your left ass cheek was especially beautiful.

When you opted to leave that soft noise as your reply, Steve stepped into the room. He flopped beside you on the bed, springs squeaking shrilly.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.

You shook your head down at your lap, rubbing at your eye. You hated crying, and so far today you'd been doing well swallowing them down. Steve had only seen you cry once, and you avoided him for three days after.

Something about vulnerability made you cower.

"Okay...wanna watch a movie?"

You sighed, shifting a little away from him. Steve clocked it with a brow-furrowed frown.

"Steve...you don't have to make me feel better. I'm fine."

His lips parted to reply—most likely in protest—but the door chittered on its hinges once more with the small butted head of your tuxedo cat, Ted.

Steve immediately stood and scooped Ted up, turning to bring him to the bed. He scratched under his chin and brought forth a low humming purr immediately.

Not even cats could resist that pretty boy charm.

"Well, I reckon this lil guy will do a better job of cheerin' you up," Steve cooed, plopping Ted beside you.

A quiet giggle slipped from your mouth as you reached to swoop his tail. "Reckon?"

Steve shrugged, a sheepish grin on his mouth. "Just came out. I turn Southern in a crisis, darlin'."

He was just trying to make you laugh now, and he couldn't help but mirror the sound when it proved effective. Though, it also proved temporary. You soon settled on your side, tugging Ted to your chest with a fading smile.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair, gathering a chunk of it at the top to pull. A stress tick. You tried not to feel guilty for causing it.

"Well...alright." Steve shuffled backward toward the door. "Pizza in fifteen."

You nodded into the pillow. "Okay. Thanks."

Steve lingered a beat too long, eyeing your balled up form on the bed before slipping into the hall. You'd been sad plenty times over the years: breakups, let-downs, missed jobs.

But the guy you were dating now...you really seemed to like him. He was over all the time, practically living here at one point. Steve didn't really understand what you saw in the guy—Eddie. Steve scoffed to himself, head shaking. Stupid name.

You met Eddie at the auto shop where he worked. He gave you a discount on your oil change, and his tire talk was so smooth that you went on a date two days later. Six months later, and things still seemed to be going smoothly despite the pair of you having very little in common.

Usually, you dated harmless little nerdy guys. Steve actually laughed in the face of a five foot eight finance bro who threatened to "hurt him real bad" if he got in the way of your relationship. You dumped him that night, and the pair of you still laugh about it to this day.

But Eddie was...different. Sleeves of dark ink and a chainlink on his belt. A handful of chunky silver rings and another one in his nose. He always clinked in with a nod Steve's way and a hand on your ass, and it seemed that every time he kissed you in front of Steve, he looked him right in the eye while he did it.

Steve didn't like how small you made yourself around Eddie, and he didn't like how much Eddie seemed to enjoy it.

For everyone's sake, he hoped it wasn't Eddie that made you sad. For once, he wasn't sure he'd win that fight.

✶ ✶

There were many things about your behavior that night that concerned Steve.

Number 1: You only ate three pieces of pizza, and he got one small mushroom-sausage with extra cheese just for you.

Number 2: You didn't let Ted in when he scratched at your door, and Steve had to bring him to his own room for bed.

But worst of all.

Number 3: You didn't say goodnight.

So, Steve went to bed with Ted curled at his feet and a lump in his throat. Whatever you were upset about was bad, he could just tell; and everything in him was itching to make it better. He had this terrible, stupid ache to make life easy for you, and it never really went away.

He opened all your jars, refilled all your water bottles, made sure your phone was charged when he saw the little red bar. He bought more of your favorite snacks when he saw them running low, picked up things that "felt like you" when he saw them at the store. You had an abundance of miscellaneous yellow items sitting on your windowsill because you told him it was your favorite color two years ago.

In Steve's eyes, everything yellow in the world belonged to you.

Steve stirred in a half sleep for hours, kicking at his covers and offering murmured apologies to a miffed Ted who meowed at him. His concerns, however, came to a head when the sound of muffled shouting startled him completely awake.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and tapped the screen, rubbing his eyes clear to read the 1:15. He wondered which couple in the building was fighting this late. His bet was on Jax and Monica in 1F who were always on the outs.

"You think I'm a fuckin' idiot? I see the way he looks at you!"

But that was Eddie's voice.

"I don't understand where this is coming from."

And that was yours.

Steve shot up, fumbling for his glasses in their case somewhere in his nightstand drawer. He shoved them over his eyes, swinging his legs over the bed.

"I'm tired of competing with your fucking roommate."

"You don't—you aren't! Eddie, please, you know we're just friends."

"Spare me. You're a shitty liar. Hey! C'mere, I'm not done talkin'."

Oh, hell no. Pants abandoned, Steve swung his door open with banging force and rushed into the hall.

He found the pair of you in the entryway, Eddie's hand around your arm and your cheeks soaked with tears. You still had your pajamas on, and those little yellow slippers Steve bought for you last Christmas.

Both heads turned when Steve hurried into the room, tailed by a confused Ted butting at his leg.

Eddie huffed, motioning toward Steve. "Oh, great, of course you're here."

Steve braced his hands on his hips, glaring at the raven-haired man. "I live here, dick-wad. Remove your hand."

Eddie ignored him, still wringing your arm out. You cast your eyes away from Steve, ashamed by the state he found you in.

"You live up my girlfriend's ass, Harrington. And I'm kinda tired of you being there all the fucking time."

"Remove. Your. Hand."

"Stop," you sniffled, wiping the tears from your cheeks though it wouldn't do much to hide the pink rims of your eyes. "Eddie, he's my friend."

"If he's gonna be your friend, then we're done."

You gaped up at him, more hot tears bubbling over and stinging your eyes. "W-what? Eddie, that's—"

Eddie shrugged, smug and uncaring. "You heard me."

Steve's eyes moved your way, and he could only stomach the absolute heartbreak on your face for a split second before he was stepping forward.

"Alright," he barked, and then he was shoving the arm Eddie was holding you with. "Let her go, Aerosmith, and get the fuck out."

Eddie let you go, but spun sharply to face Steve. You weren't sure whose glare was more frightening.

Eddie stepped until he was toe-to-toe with your roommate. "You like fuckin' another man's girl? You like my sloppy seconds, you pussy bit—"

Steve might not have been much of a fighter, certainly didn't fare well with a man who lifted cars for a living—but he certainly excelled at being discrete.

Which is how he got a right hook in before Eddie could fight back. Which is also how Eddie ended up on the ground, and unable to stand again for a few moments.

"Jesus, Steve," you scolded, peering down at your boyfriend with wide eyes. “You knocked him out!”

Steve cleared his throat, ignoring the buzzing pain in his knuckles as he swept them through his hair and motioned toward Eddie.

“Hm? Nah, honey, he’s just…he’s takin’ a nap.”

Though still numbed by shock and worry, you couldn’t help the amused snort that rippled through you. Steve’s lip quirked, and he glanced at Eddie when he groaned on the floor.

“Um, well…let’s get you up, bud. Yeah, you’re okay, c’mon.” Steve began talking to Eddie like a child, cooing as he helped him to his feet by the arm.

And maybe he wasn’t nice about walking him to the elevator, watching him crumble to the floor as the doors closed. Maybe the shiner swelling on Eddie’s cheek filled Steve with incredulous joy.

But he swallowed all of it down when he returned to the apartment and found you standing right where he left you. If you were ashamed of your tears this time, it didn’t show. You grew inconsolable, and Steve had no other thought in mind that didn’t involve picking you up and taking you back to bed.

So he did just that, letting you soak his bare chest with tears as he went. When he sat you on the bed, he tipped your head up by the chin and wiped your cheeks.

“He’s not comin’ back tonight, sweetheart, it’s okay.”

Sniffling, you let him dry your tears and pull strands of hair from the sticky residue. “He thinks we were cheating. I t-tried to tell him…that we’re just friends.”

You deflated with a hiccuped sigh, and Steve’s smile was full of pity and pain. He rubbed his thumbs into your cheeks, nodding his agreement.

“Yeah. Just friends, honey.”

Your eyes fluttered with exhaustion, and Steve swallowed thickly. He pinched the edge of your pillow to pull it down, and gently coaxed you down by the shoulders. He pulled the covers up to your chin and plucked Ted from the ground to join you on the bed.

“He ain’t worth your tears, honey. Get some sleep.”

Sniffling again, you nodded quietly. Steve flashed another smile, and stepped back toward the door. As he reached for the light switch, he glanced over his shoulder to find your eyes again.

“Goodnight, Steve,” you whispered.

He shut the light off so you wouldn’t see the way he closed his eyes, like it pained him to hear you with another cry in your throat.

“Goodnight, honey.”

Steve sat awake until 6 a.m waiting for Eddie to come to his senses and return for vengeance. But he never came. In some way, Steve knew that would hurt you even more.

So in the morning when you woke, he greeted you with a handful of sunshine yellow daffodils and your favorite coffee. A soft kiss on the head and a scratch at Ted’s chin on his way out.

“Gonna meet up with a friend today. Call me if you need me, ‘kay?”

He went home with the first girl he met at the bar that day just to get you out of his head, and lied about it when he came home.

Just friends. Yeah, right.

#rolly!#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington au #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #roommate!steve harrington

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togrowoldinv · 8 months

Text

The Teacher

Milf!WandaNat x Female Reader

When Wanda’s boys need tutoring, you offer to help with the small stipulation that you do at her house. While at the home, you meet Natasha. What happens one day when Wanda forgets to cancel tutoring and you happen upon her and Nat in a compromising situation?

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (R, W, N receiving), strap on sex, dominant Natasha

Note: I could not stop thinking about these two. Enjoy!

WandaNat Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You’re anxiously waiting in your classroom for the mother of two students to arrive for a conference. You hated to call her, knowing that she is very busy, but her sons have been falling behind in class. And you never want that to be prolonged by your own nerves.

So, you wait for Wanda Maximoff to arrive for your scheduled after-school meeting. The door opens with five minutes to spare. In walks in a woman with an air of confidence you haven’t quite seen before. Her blonde hair rests over the lapels of a red suit. She looks like a million bucks in every sense of the phrase.

“Hello, I’m Ms. Y/l/n, you must be Ms. Maximoff,” you greet her.

“That’s me,” she says. “Please call me Wanda.”

“Nice to meet you, Wanda,” you say. “Thank you for taking time out of your day to meet with me.”

You gesture for her to sit in the chair across from your desk. She does so and looks back to you with waiting eyes.

“I am concerned about Billy and Tommy falling behind in class,” you explain. “They’ve taken a dive the last few weeks in grades and participation.”

“Well, Billy has always been shy,” Wanda supplies. “And Tommy just can’t sit still.”

“Yes, that’s true. But they’ve been my best students all year until recently. I just wanted to be in touch with you to maybe find the cause and take steps to correct this misdirection,” you say.

You hate this part of your job. Every parent thinks their child hangs the moon. They don’t want to hear they’re struggling. You prepare yourself to face rejection, but Wanda just thinks for a moment.

“How can I get them back on track?” She asks.

“I can tutor them before and/or after school,” you say. “If their in-class participation improves that will also help with their grades.”

“Okay,” Wanda says. Her green eyes look you over. “I have a hard time getting them to school early because they ride a bus. And getting here right after school is very difficult.”

“Right,” you say. “I understand.”

“Maybe you could tutor them at my house?” Wanda asks.

“Oh, I’m not sure if that’s really allowed,” you say.

“Please?” Wanda asks. You don’t think you have the strength to say no to her soft expression. She is almost pouting. You feel an attraction to her in your gut. She leans forward. “I will pay you anything.”

“Oh, I definitely can’t take payment, Wanda,” you say. She pouts completely now. “But I can tutor them at your house.”

“Thank you!” Wanda practically cheers. “I appreciate it. Really.”

“Of course, Wanda. I can start as soon as possible.”

With that, Wanda leaves your classroom with the exchange of phone numbers and the shake of your hand. It’s probably a bad idea, but you keep the success of your students in mind as you push away any worries about the tutoring.

The next day you drive to Wanda’s house after school. The boys let you in on instruction from their mother to only let you inside and not strangers. You set up at the table and teach the boys some math. To your surprise, they don’t put up much of a fight about the work.

When you’re almost done for the day, the door of the house opens. The boys run to the door to hug the mysterious woman who enters. She wears a leather jacket and black pants. God, she is attractive. Her red hair is tied back in a braid.

“Oh, hello,” she says once she sees you. “You must be the teacher Wanda was telling me about. I’m Natasha.”

“Hi, yes, I’m y/n,” you say as you shake her hand. Her green eyes sparkle like Wandas.

“Nice to meet you,” Natasha says. You think you see her look you over briefly before the kids grab her attention again.

“We’re done for the day, so I’ll head out,” you say, gathering your things.

“Okay. Thanks for helping them. I hope to see you again soon, y/n,” Natasha says.

She disappears into the kitchen, and you wonder about the nature of her relationship with Wanda.

The next few weeks of tutoring go smoothly. You see Natasha a couple of times. She doesn’t say much but she always thanks you for your time.

Today, when you knock on the door and wait for an answer there is a long delay. The boys usually open the door immediately. Five minutes go by, and you decide to knock a couple of more times.

Finally, Wanda comes to the door. She is never here when it’s time for tutoring. And especially not in a robe with messy hair.

“Oh shit,” Wanda remarks at the sight of you. “I forgot to cancel today. The boys are visiting family.”

“That’s alright,” you say. “I’ll just be on my way.”

At the time you go to turn around, Natasha emerges from the other room. She has only a t-shirt and underwear on. You try to look away.

“Who is it, detka?” Nat asks.

“Ms. Y/l/n,” Wanda says. She doesn’t look away from you. “I forgot to cancel tutoring.”

“Oh,” Natasha says. “Don’t be rude, Wanda.” She walks to the door and looks at you. “Come on in, y/n.”

You don’t even argue with that despite the very little clothes either of them are wearing. You enter and Nat pours you a drink.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” you say when she hands it to you.

“No worries,” Nat supplies. “Just an afternoon meeting. Right Wands?”

“Right,” Wanda agrees. She seems a little uneasy, but when Nat places a hand on her thigh, you see her nerves calm. “A meeting.”

It’s quiet for a few moments. You try hard not to notice how far up Natasha’s hand has moved or the way Wanda’s thighs look so delicious. Natasha’s too. Nat catches you looking.

“You know we could use help with our meeting,” Natasha says.

“Nat,” Wanda warns.

“Look, sweetheart, she is looking at us,” Natasha says. “I think she wants to join.”

Wanda looks directly into your eyes. Her gaze is hypnotizing. Natasha’s hand dips completely between her thighs. Wanda moans quietly.

“Do you want to join?” Wanda asks. It’s the first time you’ve noticed she has a bit of an accent.

“I- um- yes?” You phrase it like a question.

“I need you to be sure,” Wanda says.

She reaches her hand out towards you. You get the memo. You cross the room and Wanda takes your hand. She pulls you onto her lap. Nat’s hand remains between her thighs and as a result brushes against you too.

Wanda brushes your hair off of your face. She keeps her hand on your face. The long digits hold your face tight. She leans in and kisses your lips softly. The feeling makes your head dizzy.

“So good,” Wanda whispers when she pulls away. “Natasha, you need to taste her.”

Natasha pulls you by the back of your neck over to meet her lips. She moans into the kiss as she deepens it. Her tongue invades your mouth. The kiss is rough, but you want so much more. Your hips stutter over Wanda’s lap.

“Hm, needy girl,” Natasha says once she pulls away. She lifts your shirt over your head and Wanda immediately starts sucking at your breasts.

You kiss Nat as Wanda stimulates your nipples. She leaves no inch of your chest untouched. She unbuttons your pants and you stand up to let her pull them down your legs. Wanda instructs you to stay standing. Nat stands up behind you and kneels while Wanda kneels in front of you.

“Your pussy is so wet,” Wanda says. “Hm, I just want to taste it.”

“Taste it, Wanda. Make her feel good,” Natasha says. “And I’ll do the same.”

The two women dive into you. Natasha’s hands help spread you as Wanda eats you out. Natasha joins her and you feel both of their mouths hard at work. You would fall over if it wasn’t for Natasha’s strong arms holding you up.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you mumble way too quickly. But they don’t care. They keep up their ministrations until you’re shaking with pleasure.

“So fucking good,” Natasha says.

“Mhm,” Wanda agrees.

The two women pull away from you and share a filthy kiss. In the process, Wanda sits back on the couch and takes her robe off. Her entire body is exposed to you. You’re sure your mouth is watering.

Natasha pushes you gently to kneel between Wanda’s legs. You waste no time kissing her soft thighs. Exactly as delicious as you thought she would be.

“Such a good girl,” Natasha says. She takes her own underwear off and reveals she’s wearing a strap. You’re not sure how you hadn’t seen it before.

Nat gets it wet before she gets on her knees. She angles the fake cock perfectly to enter you from behind. You’re already wet, so it goes in easy. Nat moves her hips at an excruciating pace as Wanda pushes on your head to keep you between her legs.

You lick stripes over her folds and take her clit in your mouth. Wanda watches as Natasha pounds into you.

“Fuck that’s so hot,” she says.

“She takes me so well, Wanda,” Natasha says.

The words drive you crazy. You pick up your pace on Wanda and she comes in no time. You clean her up as Natasha brings you to another orgasm.

You and Wanda turn your focus to Natasha. You take the cock in your mouth and Wanda’s juices coat it. Natasha groans at the feeling. Wanda maneuvers herself to lick Natasha’s pussy that’s not covered by the strap.

The two of you get Natasha off quickly. And you all rest on the couch. Natasha and Wanda hold you between them as your limbs tangle together.

“I’m really glad I forgot to cancel tutoring today,” Wanda says.

“Me too,” Natasha adds.

“Me three,” you say and share a laugh with the women.

You hope Wanda invites you over more often now. Especially if Natasha is going to be there.

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff smut #milf!wanda

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cameronspecial · 4 months

Text

You Are A Gentleman, Baby

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: Y/N and Drew aren't raising the next generation's asshole.

Masterlist

Y/N watches TV on the couch. Rafe is playing with Asher on the floor in front of the ottoman. She starts to feel a little thirsty so leans forward to get her glass of water. Rafe whispers something in their son’s ear and Ash comes running over to Y/N. His three-year-old hands wrap around her water glass and he walks over to his mom. “Here you go, Mommy,” he says, kissing her cheek before going back to his father. She takes a sip of water, “Thank you, Baby.”

———

The little family is getting ready for the day. Rafe helps her put on her jacket and removes her hair from between her skin and the jacket. She sits down to put her shoes on, but before she can pick her ballet flats up, Asher is rushing toward her with them. He helps her put them on. “Aww, thank you for helping me, Baby,” she thanks. She brings him onto her lap to give him a kiss. She lets him put his own shoes on and cheers when he can do it without any help. Rafe opens the front door, motioning his family out of the door.

———

She comes back home to find Rafe and Asher cuddling on the couch, watching TV. She gives them both a kiss and settles on the couch beside Asher. Rafe looks over at his wife and can see the tension in her shoulder. She must have had a hard day at work. He walks behind the couch and starts massaging her shoulders. Asher notices his dad’s movement and goes to the floor. His tiny hands take her foot, digging his fingers into the aching skin. After a few minutes, her shoulders slouch in relaxation and she falls asleep.

———

Y/N has been under the weather for two days now. She has finally been able to move from the bed and rest on the couch. Rafe and Asher have been keeping their distance from her, per her request, so she doesn’t get them sick. The boys have been making arts and crafts in the playroom when Asher wants to get himself a snack. He runs to the kitchen and sees his mommy taking a nap on the sofa. Her arms shake in a shiver. The blanket has fallen off of her body and Asher walks over to it. He struggles a little bit to pick it up but eventually gets it on top of her. He spreads it out, so she is fully covered and kisses her forehead like he has seen his father do.

———

Y/N and Asher are in the store, buying groceries when her son asks her a question that catches her off-guard. “Am I a gentleman, Mommy?” he stumbles through the words. Her eyebrows raise, “Why are you asking, Baby? Where did you learn that word?” “Daddy. He says if I want to be a good big boy, I have to be a gentleman to you and all women. I need to tweat them with wespect and cawe.” His rs turn into ws, but Y/N still gets the message. Pride blooms in her chest. Her husband is so thoughtful and helps her raise such an amazing little boy. Asher looks at her in anticipation, so she picks him up and brings him against her hip. “You are a gentleman, Baby,” she kisses him on the cheek, letting him nuzzle into her neck. It’s like she gave birth to a mini Rafe.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama

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steveshairychest · 1 year

Text

Steve hates February 14th.

It's a constant reminder that he is alone, that no one ever wants to stick around with him long enough to celebrate Valentine's Day. Most of them leave after one night together.

It's also his birthday. The former heartthrob of Hawkins High was born on Valentine's Day, but he can't even get himself a date. Or a birthday party. Every year that they were around, his parents would go out for their annual Valentine's Day dinner and leave Steve to celebrate his birthday on his own. He stopped associating the day with his birthday by the time he was 13.

Now, he spent the day giving out roses and chocolates to all his friends so that they feel special, so that they don't feel as left out and forgotten as he did for his whole life.

Dustin and Mike fake gag when he gives them both a box of their favourite chocolate and Will blushes and stumbles through a thank you while holding his chocolates to his chest. He got Max and Lucas a big box of chocolates to share on their date.

Robin smacks a dramatic wet kiss to his cheek when he gifts her a bunch of sunflowers (her favourite flower), she also slips something into his pocket when no one's looking and whispers, "Happy birthday." He pulls her into a tight hug and thanks her quietly.

Steve spent a lot of time debating what to get Eddie. Their friendship felt like something more, but neither of them has put a label on what the hell they are to each other, so he decides to keep it simple. He rocks up to Eddie's new trailer with a box of chocolates under his arm and a small bunch of roses clutched tightly in his hands. He's so fucking nervous he forgets to knock.

After gently knocking, the door is pulled open and Steve nearly stumbles down the steps because Eddie is wearing a fucking suit. An all black three piece suit with his hair tied up. He looks hot. So hot all Steve can do is stare.

Eddie groans and runs a hand down his face, careful not to smudge his eye-liner. "Damn it, Harrington. You're not supposed to be here." He sounded... disappointed.

Steve takes in Eddie's outfit again and the pieces slowly start to come together in his mind. How could he be so stupid? "Shit, sorry, Eds. Are you on a date with someone? Nevermind. I don't want to know. I'll just, uh, go. Sorry to interrupt." He turns away as quick as possible and hurries down the few steps.

He should have known. Eddie doesn't want to spend Valentine's Day with him. They're just friends. God, he's so stupid.

A hand gently grabs his arm and stops his hurried retreat. "Steve, wait." Eddie stands in front of him, his heeled dress shoes making him slightly taller than Steve. "I don't have a date with anyone."

Steve finds that hard to believe. He's in a suit for fuck sake. He's even brushed his hair and styled it so nicely. He's lying to make Steve feel better. "Whatever, Eds. I really don't care– "

Eddie surprises him in that moment. He reaches out and holds Steve's face so, so gently in his hands. Steve doesn't know what to do, he's frozen in shock and unable to look away from Eddie, who's standing so close now. He brushes a thumb gently across Steve's flushed cheek. "Steve, I don't have a date because I was on my way to your place. To ask you."

"Ask me? On a date?" Steve is struggling to wrap his head around the situation. Having Eddie so close is causing all coherent thoughts in his head to disintegrate. All he can focus on is the smell of Eddie's cologne and the cool sting of his rings on his skin and the slight shine on his lips because, fuck, he's wearing lip gloss.

Eddie laughs and steps even closer, their noses almost brushing as he invades Steve's space. "I've been wanting to ask you out for weeks, Stevie. I thought today would be the best day. I even bought you a birthday present."

Steve wants to cry. He wants to cry and laugh and kiss Eddie Munson until he can't breathe. "How do you know it's my birthday?" Dustin doesn't even know it's his birthday. Hell, he's pretty sure his own parents don't know it's his birthday.

Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against Steve's, the intimate action steals Steve's breath away. He's too nervous to move, to even breathe. They've never been this close before. Eddie closes his eyes and just breathes for a moment before answering Steve's question. "Dude, I've been madly in love with you for an entire year. It'd be pretty shitty if I didn't know when your birthday was." He says it so casually, so easily, like he's talking about the weather.

Steve can't even be angry that he called him 'Dude' in the middle of his confession because Eddie is pulling away, his eyes full of worry as he takes in Steve's shocked expression. "Fuck, that was too much. I'm sorry –"

Steve drops the roses and the chocolates, grabs the collar of Eddie's suit, and shuts his rambling up with a kiss.

#blegh hate this but you can have it #my allergies are really bad today #been sneezing like crazy #my eyes are so itcjy and watery i could hardly see the keyboard #BUT OH WELL #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #stranger things s4

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azsazz · 2 months

Text

With Me

Eris x Rhysand's Sister!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: I know your request are closed but still writing. In the future could you do something with Eris x rhys sister?

Warnings: Graphic depictions of canon violence

Word Count: 1,520

_________________________________________

It had been on a wisp of an autumn breeze that Eris found out.

Found out about the plans of the High Lord of Spring, how he and his sons planned an ambush on the wife and daughter of the High Lord of Night on their travels to the Illyrian mountains for a visit with her son.

He had been on his horse, red as the leaves on the trees, scouting the borders between Autumn and Spring. The wind ruffled his hair and tickled his pointed ears with the whispers of scheming sons. Eris had stilled the mare beneath him and urged the current with a touch of magic to enhance the conversation.

That High Lord will pay for everything he’s tried to do to ours.

He won’t even know what’s coming. And neither will those little bitches.

Dibs on the older one.

It had eaten Eris throughout the day. Across the rest of his round on the border, during battle strategy, between sword fighting with his younger brothers. Lucien was learning quickly how to play his brothers against each other, and even scored a hit on Eris while his mind had been run through with worry.

He is a smart male but the thought of going to his father with this news didn’t feel right, but keeping it to himself felt even worse. So, after a family dinner that he loathed, Eris put on his emerald robes and marched into the Night Court territory.

He was too late.

Eris caught the scent of your blood on a tornado of wind that carried the harrowing cries of you and your mothers downfall. You had been brutally attacked by the Spring Court sons and their father, and as Eris crept closer he saw blood coated flowers sprouting from the ground. The High Lord’s magic, a love note to the High Lord of Night.

A soft gurgle caught his attention as he stepped into the clearing washed in moonlight. The sight before him was harrowing; your carriage door ripped off its hinges, the windows blown out. Even the large, black steeds that had been pulling the wagon had been slaughtered, their entrails long lines in the white snow.

A wet cough, one with the whisper of death accompanying it drew his attention. Eris didn’t hesitate to locate you, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of you curled beneath your slain mother, her arms still wrapped around you protectively.

Your eyes were wide with fear, mouth gaping like a fish. Blood of both yours and your mothers surrounded you, leaking from your lips, from between the hands you had pressed weakly to your stomach.

Falling to his knees, Eris reached a hand out but halted when your eyes met his. His mind was reeling, a young warrior with little battlefield experience before a female struggling through her thinning breaths.

Something stirred deeply within him, something he knew but couldn’t say, wouldn’t admit out loud until years later.

You had enough strength to shift your hand in the snow, reaching towards him, eyes screaming a plea for help from the handsome son of Autumn.

And he did. He held your organs in his hands as he winnowed you from Night into his own territory, right into the hands of his mother.

Amaretto stood with a start, the book in her hands falling loudly to the floor. There were no sounds in the room, not even the crackling of the fires raging in the hearths. She kept it this way so she could hear the sounds of her husband's footsteps when he walked down the marble halls of the Woodland House, each echo a shot to her confidence.

“Eris,” she gasps at her son, who looks over at her with wide, pleading, auburn eyes. She halts in her tracks, that look in his eyes, the sheer terror on his face. Her own eyes softened with a knowing look, and she uttered, “Oh, Eris.”

He and his mother worked in tandem all through the night. And when Beron’s footsteps began to sound down the hall Eris had been the one to distract him, goad him. He didn’t care about the bruises and pain inflicted by his father’s hand because it was nothing to the pain he could feel from you, through the thread of the bond that had appeared at the sight of you.

His mother saved your life with the little trickle of healing magic she had left. Always hidden from Beron, but would use it to save her son’s mate’s life. Two gentle souls that deserved much better hands that you had been dealt in the world.

Eris stayed by your side when you had been moved to a guest room. You hadn’t woken for days and he couldn’t figure out a way to hide you from his father who would surely use you against the Night Court, who were mourning the news of their felled female family members.

Word had come of the slaying of the Spring Court High Lord and the two eldest sons, leaving young Tamlin to take his place. In the fray, the High Lord of Night had been murdered as well, with Rhysand taking the chair of rule.

It was all very confusing times.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Eris,” you plead, tears staining your eyes. He can feel the cracking in your chest even though you’re trying to hide it from him. You’ve never been good at blocking your feelings from your loving mate, but the thought of returning home was all too much. Eris wasn’t understanding your fear, your need to go home to the Night Court after so long away, after Amarantha’s reign of terror has finally ended. “I need to see my brother.”

Eris had hidden you from the wretched female while he and all of the other citizens of the Autumn Court had been forced beneath the mountain. It had been a long, lonely fifty years of trying to find a way to get back to Velaris, to get inside of the barriers that had been protected with an extra boost of Rhysand’s power before he became trapped.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispers, hugging you closely. The both of you are laid up in his bed, days of reacquainting each other with the other’s body after so long away. Your mate had all but fallen apart in your arms, and you in his, the loneliness of your years spent wondering how your mate fared against the powerful female set to ruin your world.

“Come with me,” you beg wetly, clutching to his clothes. He had winnowed right back into your arms as soon as he was able, and he hasn’t let you go since. You hadn’t wanted him to. “Let’s run away from Autumn, together.”

Just like Lucien had done, chased away from the Court he knew as home while their awful brothers hunted him down. It had been another harrowing night for Eris, one you held him through.

Only the knowledge that his brother was safe in the Spring Court had kept him from completely falling apart.

“I can’t just leave like this, fawn,” he answers wetly, stroking your hair back from your face. You’re as beautiful as the day you woke up, when your eyes landed on his and the bond made itself known to you. He has spent every day since thanking the Mother for this time with you, for sparing you that winter night, for keeping you safe when he was trapped under the mountain with no way out. “Not yet.”

Your voice breaks and hot tears stream down your face, throat tightening to the point where no words could break if you tried. You want Eris to come with you, you need Eris to come with you. You’ve only just gotten him back and it cannot be time to give him up already.

“It’s okay, fawn,” Eris consoles sadly. He will keep you in his arms tonight and tomorrow, up until he escorts you to your brother’s land and makes sure that you are safe with them. He has been a selfish male for so many years, falling headfirst into the mating bond. He’d fallen into you completely and without any remorse, the same way you had found yourself falling into him. “You need to do this. And I will be here, fighting for a better life for us until we can be together, freely.”

Eris and Amaretto had come up with an elaborate plan to tell the rest of the family. That Eris would hide you until you healed, and found his mate at the Autumnal Equinox balls. It would ensure your safety, being classed as a High Fae, but also being Eris’ mate. You had learned to deal with Beron and Eris’ insufferable brothers for years.

You love Eris with every fiber of your being, and the thought of parting with him so soon after getting him back tears your heart to shreds, but you need to go, especially after everything Eris had told you happened down there.

“I love you, Eris.”

“I love you too, fawn.”

#eris x reader #eris/reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #acosf #eris #eris vanserra

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ty-bayonet-betteridge · 6 months

Text

your transfem friend recommended a clinic to get your bottom surgery done at. she says its cheap, not gatekeepery, and the results are good, even if the doctors a little skeevy. youre at the address she gave you and are wondering how exactly your murder will go down. the door is on a third floor landing accessible only from a fire escape out of a back alley in the worst part of town youve ever seen. you knock three times and the door is answered by a ratty-looking woman with a severe slouch smoking something that doesnt smell like nicotine and doesnt smell like marijuana. her wavy blonde hair is unkempt. shes wearing an oversized grey hoodie that hasnt been washed in some time. you can identify blood on the left sleeve and vomit across much of her side, as well as other, more mysterious stains. you cant tell if shes wearing anything underneath the hoodie. the inside of the apartment - because it is, very clearly, her apartment - has a smell that you cant place but, if pressed, would probably call sweat, though you know that description is lacking something.

dr davis, you ask. she smiles wide, and her teeth are shockingly good for the state the rest of her is in. just call me riley, she says. never did get a degree.

she ushers you inside and sits you down on a sofa almost as stained as her hoodie. can i get you a drink she asks. a drink, you repeat, dazed. she says yeah. she says she has diet coke, beer, vodka, and coffee. says she used to keep tea around for a friend of a friend but she hasnt come by in a few years and the leaves are probably losing flavor by now. you say just waters fine. she shrugs and says your funeral. she comes back from the kitchen and sweeps some stuff off the coffee table. you see a stray scalpel, a roll of gauze bandages, a soda cup from taco bell, and various crumpled papers amongst the rubbish that she knocks aside before setting down your glass of water. she has a beer in her own hand and pops the cap off with her teeth, though the motion isnt quite how youre used to seeing people do it. she takes a big gulp before she keeps talking.

so what do you want your pussy to look like, she asks. you splutter a bit. she says you are the one who needed their bits redone right. you flush and say yeah thats me. she nods and says right so what do you want. you struggle to give a good answer and she starts asking questions. depth? width? color? clit size? you give your answers falteringly. she starts asking about labia. oh, you dont want dentata, do you, she says. that costs extra. you say you dont know what that means. she says dont worry about it. hey do you wanna get pregnant? you splutter again. not now she clarifies. well i can get you pregnant now too if you want that. doesnt even have to be human i think i have some horse sperm around here if you want. i just meant like ever in the future. you say you dont know. she says okay shell leave it out for now but come back if you ever want her to put the womb in. youre too stunned to reply.

she says oh do you want to keep your dick, i can do that. you say you thought they needed the tissue from the penis in order to make the vaginal lining. she laughs and takes another gulp from her beer. she says so is that a no. you say you guess you hadnt thought about it. she says she can reschedule if you need to think, no rush. you say no i guess i dont want it anymore. she nods and says come back if you change your mind.

she says ok, i think i can start operating now if youre ready. you say okay and she tells you to lie on your back and strip naked. you follow her instructions. youre still not sure if youre going to die today or not. she pulls on a big pair of rubber gloves. not latex medical gloves, they're yellow dishwashing gloves. she grabs a small jar of what looks like petroleum jelly off a shelf nearby. you cant help but notice that theres also lube, condoms, saran wrap, and a bottle of honey on the same shelf. you dont ask. she starts vigorously rubbing the jelly into your skin from the belly button down. everywhere it touches you instantly go numb. she keeps talking while she works. a lot of it is her telling stories about "her amy." you cant tell if amy is a sister, wife, or pet. she might be all three.

she reaches up to grab an empty syringe off the top shelf. when she stretches you notice shes naked under the hoodie. you look away bashfully. she doesnt seem to notice.

she fills the syringe with liquid from a bucket in the closet. the liquid is neon green. she injects it into your inner upper thigh. you are now certain you're going to die today, but you cannot make a break for it with your legs numbed, so you wait.

she says okay this is the part where a lot of people get squeamish so look away if you think you might get sick. she pulls out a set of knives. some of them look like dentistry tools, some of them are medical scalpels, and some of them are kitchen knives. you look away. she starts humming to herself while she works. the tune is pop goes the weasel.

hey, she calls out to you from between your legs, how many nerves do you want in your clit? you say uh i dont know, whats a normal amount. she says about ten thousand give or take two thousand in either direction. you say ten thousand sounds fine. she doesnt respond, just goes back to humming. its a different tune. shes humming old macdonald now.

she gets up a couple times to grab new drinks. you say should you be drinking during an operation? she says dont worry i know what im doing. besides i never took the hippocratic oath. she laughs at that, the sound somewhere between a giggle and a cackle. you don't think its that funny. she resumes her work.

this time shes humming the alphabet song. you ask how old are you anyway? she says somewhere between 12 and 47. then she laughs again. you decide to stop asking questions.

four beers, two diet cokes, three unidentifiable cigarettes, and five hours later, she stands up and announces shes done. she wipes her brow without taking the glove off, smearing unidentifiable bodily fluids across her forehead. she jabs another syringe into your other thigh and the feeling returns to your lower body. you're a little sore but other than that you feel great. she wheels over a full length mirror and tells you to take a look. its perfect. youre everything youve ever dreamed you would be. you cant describe how euphoric it feels to see a vagina, your vagina, between your legs. you thank her tearfully. she smiles awkwardly. of course, shes saying.

how much do i owe you you ask. she shrugs. iunno, a hundred bucks? im not in it for the money. you pay her the hundred bucks and leave quickly. you barely remember to get dressed again before heading out. you have never seen Riley again.

#wormblr #parahumans #worm spoilers #our writing #riley davis #riley grace davis #bonesaw #nsft #uh. look #iunno what this is #i was possessed by a Vision and thought maybe somebody else would like to see it.#dr riley davis mde

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kyluff · 4 months

Text

— ↺ Young Love

✎ yuuji x reader !

✦ summary ➠ yuji was just a sweet, teenage boy. How could he not develop a crush on one of his fellow first years?

✦ warnings ➠ none

— She’s so pretty, that’s what the pink haired man thought. His elbow rested on the desk and his hand was tucked under his chin as he watched you from his seat in the classroom. You were conversing with Nobara at your own desks in the first years room, Nobara was most likely spreading gossip. But he didn’t care much what the two of you were saying, he was in a trance, stuck looking at the face he has loved ever since the beginning of school. Ever since you first met.

“Are you just going to stare the whole class?” Nobara sassed. “Cause it’s starting to creep me out.”

“Uh, no. Sorry, I just zoned out!” He was stuttering, scared that they (mostly you) had caught him in his antics. He quickly turned his body forward, sitting properly.

You thought he was the cutest when his voice betrayed him, leaving broken words.

“You know Itadori, you’ve been acting awfully weird lately.” The girl remarked, eyeing the boy with a grin on her face.

“R-really?!” The said boy swallowed the lump forming in his throat from his friends sentence.

You see, Nobara has been keeping a close eye on Yuuji as of late, she’s noticed a few odd things that the boy has started doing recently. First, she noticed the way Yuujis eyes wandered and how they stuck to you whenever he had the chance. Then, Nobara picked up on the way that Yuuji would go out of his way to do any task for you, to help you however he can, he’d do anything for you. The final quirk that surfaced was how the boy struggled to talk in your presence, he always seemed to turn red and stutter with his words.

That last one was her personal favourite, she would tease him about it constantly.

“I just zoned out! Really, honestly I did!” He tried to reason with her, but he knew that she had him figured out. There was no escaping this now.

“Oh, I believe you on that. I know you zoned out, you just didn’t zone out on me.” She concluded. “You were zoned out on Y/n!” She was now sprung up out of her seat and pointing an accusing finger at Yuuji.

“What?! No- I, I wasn’t! I swear, I was just uhh watching the door for when Gojo was going to show up!”

“The door is on the opposite side of the room, Itadori.” Megumi added in finally, he had actually been here the whole time, but just wished to mind his own business until class started. But Megumi couldn’t let that remark be left unpunished, it was just too stupid.

Yuuji left out a sound of defeat as his head smacked down against his desk, he was so embarrassed. His face was so red and radiated heat.

You had also begun to feel embarrassed, was there actually a chance that he liked you? I mean why else would he be staring at you and get so flustered when someone called him out on it.

You let out a small giggle, many emotions running through your body.

At this, Yuuji lifted his head slightly, just enough to see your face. You were smiling, eyes closed and cheeks pink. You were so cute, he was starting to stare at you again.

“I have to go.” That was all he said as he ran fast past everyone, shooting out the door to who knows where. He didn’t, he just wanted to get away from that damn room. He didn’t want to be seen by you like this, it was too much too fast.

“Yuuji, Wait!” You stood up, your chair screeching behind you from the speed that you got up at. “Nobara, you embarrassed him!”

“Hey, he should’ve known that I’d find out.” She smirked, shrugging his shoulders up with no care.

You shook your head, she could be so inconsiderate sometimes. You followed Yuujis trail, hoping to find him quick. Class would start soon but you didn’t mind. You just hoped that Yuuji was alright wherever he was.

You sped down the hallways for quite some time, turning a few times until you found him. He was sat beside a vending machine, head resting against the wall.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” You panted out, stepping closer to him. He didn’t move, staying is his spot. “Why’d you go and run off like that, Nobara was just trying to get a reaction out of you.”

His head fell against the machine now, his eyes softly closed and his lips pursed slightly.

“You know I don’t care if you were looking at me. Everyone zones out once in awhile. It’s normal.” You tried to comfort the poor boy. He looked so defeated.

You were starting to get worried now, he wasn’t responding. You moved beside him, sliding down the wall so that you were sitting by him now.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You leaned downward to get a look at his face, he was avoiding eye contact even.

“Have you ever had a crush?” He blurted out fast. That was odd, really random too, you thought to yourself.

“I mean, ya. I’ve had a few before.” You laughed a little, not knowing how to respond really.

“Oh, ok.” That was it? Why was he acting so depressed. You frowned, reaching for his hand. You just wanted to console him. He’s your friend after all and you wanted to be there for him if he was struggling in any way.

He flinched away from your touch, curling into himself as much as he possibly could.

“You know, if you ever need to talk I’m here. You’ve always been there for me when I needed, so you can tell me anything you want.” You grasped his hand anyway, wanting him to truly know you meant what you were saying. He looked down at where your hands met each others and then made the hold tighter.

“I like you, Y/n.” He finally made an effort to lock eyes with you. “I have for awhile now, that’s why I’ve been ‘acting weird’ as Nobara would put it.”

He looked ashamed of what he was confessing. “I just, when I see you, I can’t help but stare. You’re so beautiful and nice and you always share your food with me and you always make me laugh. Oh, your laugh is so damn cute too and- ”

You had to stop his rambling, so what better way of doing that then giving him a tender kiss on the lips. His eyes stayed open because of the shock coursing through his body, had you really just kissed him? This can’t be real.

You pulled away, laying a final kiss on his cheek this time. You couldn’t help but laugh at his facial expression. His face still had a look of shock, mouth slightly opened and eyes blown wide.

“I like you too.” You smiled up at him, confidently looking into his eyes.

“Oh….” His facial features started to morph slowly, a grin growing. “Oh!”

“Come on, let’s get back to class before Gojo comes looking for us.” You tugged him up along with you, making your way to the room that held the rest of the first years.

“Yes, please do hurry. Don’t want to be too late now do we?” A teasing voice came from deeper into the hallway behind you.

You both shared a similar look of surprise and fright as you turned around to find out who it was, deep down you both already knew who it was.

“Gojo sensei, when did you get here. Haha?” Yuuji scratched his head, looking anywhere but Gojos eyes.

“More importantly, how much did you see?” You added, looking down towards your feet.

“Long enough to know my beloved students are going to be a couple!” The teacher exclaimed in a very cheery voice. “Now, let’s get you two love birds back to class so we can start our lesson!”

You and Yuuji both cringed simultaneously, begrudgingly following behind the tall white haired man that they called their teacher.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #gojo satoru #yuji itadori x reader #itadori yuuji #anime #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #x you #anime x reader #black and white

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alotofpockets · 1 month

Text

Beat of my heart | Reneé Rapp x Reader

Where Reneé falls in love with her drummer and childhood friend.

Reneé Rapp Masterlist | Words: 1k

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If there was one take away from the Snow Hard Feelings tour for Alyah so far, it was that Reneé and y/n would make a great couple. She knew about her best friend's crush on you, but now after spending so much time with both you and Reneé, she could see that the feelings were mutual. Yet, neither one of you seemed like you were going to make a move any time soon.

Reneé was one of your childhood friends, you both went into the music industry, and you even wrote some music with her over the years. So, it was a no-brainer that when Reneé went on tour, you'd be her drummer.

Going on tour, and spending so much time with Reneé only made your feelings towards her grow. Exploring the cities in the day, performing in the evening, and travelling at night. You did it all together.

After another successful show you find yourself back in the tour bus with Reneé and Alyah. “Who’s up for another movie night?” Reneé asked, it had become one of her favourite ways to relax after a show. The three of you squeezed into Reneé’s bunk together, and put up a movie on the small screen. You hadn't realised how tired you were until you were about twenty minutes into the movie, and were struggling to keep your eyes open.

Reneé’s heart skipped a beat the moment your head fell against her arm, she tensed for a moment, but relaxed when she saw how peaceful you looked. Alyah watched the moment with a knowing smile.

Not even ten minutes later, Alyah looked over and saw that Reneé had fallen asleep as well. She snapped a quick picture, before she carefully got out of the bunk and headed to her own.

You wake by the loud sound of the end credits, and are a little disorientated. When you feel someone move besides you, you realise what happened. “Oh sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you. I should head to my own bunk.” Your slightly groggy voice melts Reneé's heart. “Oh no baby, you're good. I was pretty comfortable actually. Wanna scoot down and get some more sleep?” You're too tired to even hesitate about her offer, and scoot down in the bunk bed. Reneé puts the covers over the both of you.

Reneé laid down beside you. Your heart was beating out of your chest, at how close your faces were together. For a moment, all that the two of you do is stare at each other. You were studying every part of her face, the light freckles on her nose, the way her bangs fell over her face, her slightly parted lips, and her piercing blue eyes looking back at you. “You are so beautiful.” Your words are spoken softly, like they would disappear with the slightest gust of wind.

Reneé’s smile grows, “Thank you baby, so are you.” She reaches out her hand and starts running her hand through your hair, moving her face a little closer with every movement. Your hand finds her side, where you let it rest. When Reneé didn’t see any form of hesitation from you, she closed the distance between you. Her soft lips were moving in a slow rhythm with yours.

Kissing Reneé was both the scariest and most comforting thing at the same time. The softness in her eyes when she pulled away from the kiss, nearly melted your heart. “I've been wanting to do that for so long.” The blonde confessed. Your smile grows wide, “Me too.” Reneé lays down on her back, and pulls you into her side. “Come on, let's get some rest. Big day tomorrow.” You hum, and get comfortable. “Goodnight Nae.” The blonde kisses your forehead, “Goodnight baby.” It was a good thing you were already hiding your face into her chest, otherwise she would have seen you turn bright red.

The next morning when Alyah wakes up, the first thing she does is check your bunk, which she finds abandoned just like last night. She gets excited about even the thought of the two of you sleeping in Reneé’s bunk, which would at least mean a step closer to the two of you realising your feelings for each other. When she stepped closer she heard the two of you giggling, and without knowing what happened last night, she just knew that something had.

“Morning yaya.” Reneé greets her best friend as she heads into the seating area of the tour bus. “Oh yeah I bet it is.” With a knowing smirk Alyah looks up at her, finding a blushing Reneé looking back at her. “Spill.” Reneé slid into the seat beside her, “We kissed, and then cuddled, that’s it. It was amazing though, and I was kind of wanting to ask her out for breakfast, but I wanted to pass it by you first, since I don’t want to leave you out.” Alyah laughs, “Are you kidding me? I’ve been pushing you to ask her out for months! Yes, you go, and you go ask her right now.” Alyah was basically pushing Reneé your way in excitement.

“Would you like to go out for breakfast?” Reneé asked shyly. “Only if it’s a date.” You counter, making the blonde’s nerves fade instantly. “Definitely as a date.” Without hesitation, Reneé grabbed your hand and led you out of the tour bus, having arrived in a new city overnight.

After breakfast you walked around a bit before you had to head back to the venue for sound check. During the sound check you and Reneé were constantly goofing around, much to the enjoyment of Alyah and the rest of the band. Alyah filmed and photographed a lot of the tour, besides the crew who would capture everything in high resolution, the more retro shots that Alyah took were loved by Reneé.

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#renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp x you #renee rapp x y/n #reneé rapp x reader #alyah chanelle scott #renee rapp imagine #renee rapp fluff

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coldfanbou · 6 months

Text

If Only You Knew

Welcome one and all to day 21. Where we see what Minju does as a "job" We have a few guest appearances in this one, too.

Length 2.9K

Minju x Mreader

It was expected that Minju would be a full-time actress, that she would film multiple things and debut quickly. That wasn’t how things were turning out for her currently. You found it funny that people called her jobless online. Minju wasn’t jobless, but she did have a very different job from acting.

Special arrangements had been made between you, her, and her company. She would be a pivotal piece to your business now that you struggled to get the job done on your own. You first discovered your ability about two years ago when you had sex with the superstar Kim Taeyeon. To finish you off, she had you down her throat. The tip of your cock pressed against it, and you came down her throat. Taeyeon drank it all without complaint, even going as far as giving the tip of your cock a kiss before leaving to perform. When she returned to the green room, she mentioned feeling better than usual while performing; she was more energetic, and her voice didn’t feel as strained. You felt like she jumped to conclusions when she said it was your cum that did it. After all, it sounded absolutely ridiculous. Still, she was sure, and to prove it, she got the rest of Girl's Generation involved. Each member was given a free sample, and each returned after their performance to claim the same thing. News spread quickly in the industry, and companies would do anything to get better performances out of their female idols, so they came calling.

Unfortunately, things were not quite as cracked up as you thought they’d be. Initially, you guessed it meant being able to have sex with all the idols that were allowed to get some, but the companies were strict with a no-sexual-contact rule. They didn’t even let you get close to the idols; soon enough, using a Fleshlight became difficult for you. You could hardly bring yourself to cum after using one for so long. Even if the idols wanted to break the rules and help you, they couldn’t because they were getting their hair or makeup done. That’s where Minju came into play; her company offered to loan her to you in exchange for something. You agreed to the terms, and Minju was now yours to use. Every part of her beautiful body was now meant to stimulate you. She was meant to milk you of every drop of cum.

She was doing her job well so far. Tonight was meant to be a special performance that had a few performers. A deal was worked out for the two of them to be able to share your cum for the night. There was no curtain to hide behind, so that meant Minju would be exposed to them, people she knew well. You undress her quickly, marbling at her fantastic body. You loved it; she had good tits, a toned stomach and great legs. You run your hands over her body, feeling up her breasts and squeezing her thighs before moving to her slit. You spread her lips apart, noticing that she was already getting wet. You smirk; her body is getting used to your touch and learning. Minju closes her eyes; if she didn’t look at the others in the room, they didn’t exist. You slide your finger along her slit, moving it back and forth until your finger is coated in her sweet nectar, and you push in. Minju’s walls press against your finger as it moves inside her. She can’t help but let out a light, breathy moan. It attracts the attention of one of the performers, her former member Eunbi.

Getting her make-up done, Eunbi can’t look at Minju directed by side-eyes her as best she can. Having had enough teasing, you grab your cock with your left hand, and with your right, your lift one of Minju’s legs. You slide your cock along her slit to coat it in her juices before you drive it into her. You’re excited to get started. Minju’s tight cunt felt amazing, and you loved being inside her. You press the head of your cock against Minju’s cunt and push in. You revel in the feeling; her walls immediately press against your head as you push in. The further you go, the more pleasure you both receive. Minju's moans become louder, attracting everyone else's attention in the room. They watch as you begin to thrust, Minju’s breasts bounce as you slam your cock into her. Her moans are a constant stream, especially now that you’re groping her breasts. Her modest chest was perfect for you; her tits fit perfectly in the palm of your hands. Minju rests her head on your shoulder; she was unused to an experienced partner and was going to cum very soon. “Ah, Minju, you’d be such a good mommy. What if I bred you? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I just felt your pussy get a little tighter.” You teased Minju in this way; it humiliated her that she got off on the idea, too. The idea of breeding Minju turned you on, you wanted to, but you needed to feed all the idols in the room and couldn’t afford to cum in her tonight. Minju’s tightened cunt clamps down on your cock, massaging every part as she struggles to hold on. “If you want me to breed you, cum right now.” Minju’s body reacts on its own, and she cums; her moans fill the room. Minju’s nectar runs down her legs as her hungry cunt tries to milk you.

You near your orgasm and tell the others as such. They hurry to your side. With the crowd of idols blocking the line of sight of the make-up artists and managers, Eunbi kneels before you, plopping her breasts out of her top. Jihyo joins her, pulling down her top to reveal her tanned tits. The other members of Twice act like a shield blocking anyone from seeing. You had intended on stroking yourself until completion, but they offer you their tits in replacement. They press their big tits together. Pulling out of Minju and letting her go, she drops to the ground. Your cock smacks against Jihyo and Eunbi’s tits. They hold them apart, letting your cock slide between them before they start pumping your shaft. Their rub against your cock, one pair along your shaft while they use the other to tease the head of your cock. The softness of their tits makes you moan loudly; the pleasure you get from them is unimaginable. Considering the condition, you thought you’d never get any action from the idols, so this was just the cherry on top. They pump your shaft, each woman trying to hold their moans as they feel your hot cock rub their mounds. “I’m cumming, get ready.” You moan.

A second later, your cum splatters all over their tits, coating them in a thick layer of your seed. A commotion outside gets the staff's attention, and the Twice members help themselves to your cum, licking Jihyo and Eunbi’s tits clean before sharing amongst themselves. Jihyo and Eunbi check themselves before pulling up their tops and thanking you. You return the thanks, saying you appreciate the help. You look over at Minju, kneeling on her side, catching her breath, and having watched all the cum she worked so hard for disappear before her eyes.

Sometime later, it was time to feed some more idols. Minju was in for some more awkwardness as Wonyoung and Yujin would be there to see you fuck her. You had taken a different position with Minju, and when it came time to cum, things were a little different again. Typically idols waited for you to jerk yourself off and spurt your cum into their mouths, but Wonyoung appeared to want to do things differently. She kneeled before you and grabbed your cock, apparently not caring for the rules. She placed the head into her mouth and gently suckled on it, her tongue moving, swirling around the head all the while. You grow weak at the knees. Wonyoung’s innocent face clashed with her lewd action. You desperately wanted to push her head down your cock and press her pretty face against your crotch, but you restrained yourself. She suckles your cock until you cum; she drinks it at first before then letting her mouth fill up. Her cheeks are puffed out as she walks over to Yujin and kisses her; the two share your cum. However, it would be more appropriate to say that Wonyoung gave it all to Yujin, who then went to Yuna to do the same. Yuna held the kiss a bit longer; she got a sense of satisfaction feeling the cum drain into her mouth. The sight made you hard, and you would take it out on Minju once the others had left.

Your next job was going to be a big one. It was to be one of the year-end award shows. There would be multiple idols, and you needed to consider how to handle them. You rest beside Minju, who is sleeping on the couch, tired after going a few rounds. As you look her body up and down, you get an idea. You get up and place her hand on your cock and shiver at the small amount of pleasure you get from her soft hand. Your idea could work; you just needed one thing. You’d have to request it from her company.

The day had come, and you needed to get down to business. Minju was ready for you; she stood with her arm covering her breasts and the hand covering her crotch. You felt no shame in being naked and grabbed her arms, pulling them away from her body. You place her on the table you had her company set up. It was a small, lazy Susan table set at the center of the room; all of the female idols would be able to glance at Minju in whatever state she happened to be in. The table spun around and would make delivery easier. You spread Minju’s legs and placed your cock between her lips. She was getting wet being watched by so many people. You want to be ready before some idol needs your cum and get straight to business. You impale Minju with your cock. Her walls squeeze you tightly, almost shaping themselves to you. It’s a great feeling you can’t enjoy just yet. You start thrusting quickly; Minju’s moans fill the room and bring the attention of many idols to you two. Some of your previous customers, like Eunbi and the Twice members, smile before returning to their conversations, while others become enamored by the sound and sight and step closer to you.

You lean over Minju and pull on her nipple. She whines, the pleasure and pain of it making her mind melt. Minju’s wall tightens around you, and she babbles about cumming soon. You ignore her for the moment and continue pounding away at her body, the sounds of your flesh smacking hers filling the room. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Minju shouts; she grabs your wrist and squeezes them tightly as she cums. Her pussy clamping down on your cock would make your job easier. “I’m going to breed you tonight, Minju. I’m going to fill you tonight.” You whisper into her ear. Minju wraps her legs around you, excited at the prospect; her body, over time, became yours to control.

You slam your hips into the small woman a few more times before burying your cock and filling her womb with your seed. You keep thrusting, trying to pump everything into her pussy. Minju’s back rises off the table with her head tilting back as she climaxes. She looks beautiful in that position, her face of pure bliss as she gets her first creampie. Her eyes are shut, and her lips form an O as her low guttural moan fills the room. Her stomach bulges slightly from your cum. That wouldn’t last too long, however. “We need your cum now!” You hear shouted from the other side of the table. It was the Itzy girls. You get Minju’s legs off you and spin the table, delivering her cum filled cunt to them. You move Minu back until her head hangs off the table and place your cock inside her mouth. Her tongue swirls around your shaft while you watch Yeji be the first to get her serving. She crouches down and leans in, pushing her tongue inside Minju’s cunt and scooping it out. Minju’s legs stiffened and forced Yeji to hold them while she ate your cum. Minju’s moans are muffled by your cock but add another layer to the pleasure as you feel the vibrations in her throat.

You thrust slowly, making sure you stayed hard while staying away from cumming. Once Yeji felt satisfied, Ryujin went next; not wanting to use the same method, she took two fingers and pushed them into Minju before curling them to drag your cum out of her. She fills her mouth and shares with Chaeryeong and Lia. Yuna combined the methods. She crouched down and lapped at Minju’s cunt while teasing her clit. Minju’s moans came more often and louder as the pleasure got to her; she cums on Yuna’s tongue. Gifting Yuna a free drink in addition to your cum. Idols come and go, taking drinks from Minju’s honeypot when it was their time to perform.

When Minju began running low, you got back between her legs, ramming your cock into her womb and filling her again. When the idols returned, some would feel a little more willing to break the rules. It happened to be timed perfectly. There would be a small intermission in the award show; Minju was empty and needed to go to the bathroom. Twice’s Chaeyoung and Ive’s Rei offered to help you. They kneeled before you each woman kissed your cock, the lips never leaving it as they moved along your shaft. You stayed hard, thanks to them. Their dick-sucking lips worked wonders, and they went beyond your cock. Rei cupped your balls before kissing and lapping at them. You felt like you were going to burst at that moment and called for the next performers.

Somi came over quickly. Rei and Chaeyoung moved to the side to allow Somi to take over. She kneeled in front of you and bobbed her head quickly, her lips tightly wrapped around your cock as she pushed it down her throat. You came a moment later, flooding her throat. Somi drank it all quickly; she continued to bob her head after, staining your cock with her lipstick. Only when someone said her performance was in less than a minute did she stop and go over, wiping her mouth as she did.

The night continued like that, with idols offering you part of their body when Minju wasn’t around Chaeryeong offered to let you grope her ass, while Jihyo and Eunbi let your play with their tits. The chaos in the room gave them the freedom to let these acts happen without a chance of management finding out. When Minju was around, you used her body well, filling her cunt with cum and covering the rest of her body. Once the show was over, everyone started to leave, some taking an extra helping of cum. Sana and Somi are the primary culprits. Then, it came down to you and Minju. You don’t know how many times she or you came, but it seems to have broken her.

She was on the table spreading her lips for you, muttering,” We have to feed everyone. I need more cum.” She was a mess with saliva and cum marking her entire body; her face was painted with it too. Still, she begged for more; her legs were spread, bent at the knee as she offered herself up. You couldn’t resist her, your cock got hard, and you positioned yourself. Minju wraps her legs around your waist and pulls you in, driving your cock back inside. Your cum acted as a lubricant, allowing you to slide deep into her without trouble. You crossed Minju’s arms and pulled on them; it caused her tits to be pushed together. This position kept her from moving as you gave her powerful thrusts. Minju’s tongue hung out of her mouth as she moaned and begged for your cum. “Breed me, Breed me!” She yelled with a face filled with ecstasy.

Her walls were tight around your cock as she came again, “Give it to me!” She moaned while grinding against your body. A few more thrusts would do it; you slam your cock against her womb. When you were about to burst, you buried your cock inside Minju, pumping your seed into her womb. Minju came right after, her legs tightened around you, and her toes curled as she felt the warmth of your cum fill her. You felt her pussy milk you, clenched tightly around your shaft. Minju’s legs grow weak after and release you, hanging off the side of the table.

Minju’s actress debut would take a little longer; she would need to learn how to control her urges before she could go out again. That and she would have a little one she needed to hide.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #minju smut #izone smut

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luveline · 2 years

Note

could you maybe write struggling single dad!eddie? ily!!! 😘

love you! hope this is okay :D I did girl dad!eddie because ♡ fem!reader

Juggling car keys, a brown paper bag of groceries and a toddler that refuses to be put down today is not easy. And she's not always like this, Roan's usually a sweet (if quiet) girl who makes Eddie's life as easy as she can. A blessing, he thanks God or whoever for her everyday, but lately she's been clingy as climbing ivy.

"Babe," he says, stress seeping into the pet name and making it more chiding than he means, "could you relax?"

She glares at him. She's a mirror.

"You're being so mean to daddy today, you know that?"

She ignores him, small hands in the collar of his last nice work shirt and pulling. He can't stop her from stretching it out, doesn't have a hand free to pull her away and the shitty cruiser he swapped his beloved van for is still locked up tight.

"Baby, stop!" he scolds.

She looks like she might have a tantrum if she could. Roan pulls her hands away but starts to grizzle, a sniffle that turns loud that turns to full blown tears. He can't tell if they're crocodile tears or not. He feels awful anyhow.

Roan brings a hand up to slap his shoulder. Her fingers get caught in the fabric of his collar and she tugs to get free, jabbing herself in the eye with the back of her hand.

Her resulting cry is awful. Real, heart-hurting, Eddie forgets to be mad and starts shushing her gently. He presses his back sweaty with exertion against the cold window of the back seat door and pulls her in as close as he can.

"It's okay, sweetheart," he says softly.

She shrieks and hits the grocery bag. It topples. The groceries go everywhere. An orange rolls into the parking lot.

"Roan," he complains, defeated.

Patience, he thinks to himself desperately. Patience. She doesn't mean to.

He can't afford stuff like this. The time it takes to do simple things like get groceries feels expensive enough — he could be pressing Roan's clothes right now, or swapping out that cracked neck on the black Gibson so he can finally get paid for it, or fuck, he could be smoking a goddamn cigarette.

He sets her down. She screams bloody murder but he doesn't have a choice. He has to chase down the dispersed groceries desperately, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

Being a parent has made him hyper aware of other people's judgmental looks. He can feel eyes now on the top of his head and Eddie knows it's that cruel looking blonde woman from the cold cuts aisle who'd tried to lecture him on processed ham.

He picks his head up, words already rehearsed in his head. Lady, if you don't leave me alone I swear to fuck I'm gonna feed her nothing but TV dinners for the rest of her life. She's gonna be a junk food baby and you'll have no one to blame but yourself.

Only It's not the lady. It's a girl.

You wither under his fierce scowl and offer the two oranges in your hand to him unsurely.

"Sorry," you say, shifting forward a half step. "They rolled my way."

He accepts the oranges without talking, which is rude, so rude, but his heads already decided the order of things before his mouth can catch up. Shove the groceries in the bag. Put the bag on the floor. Pick up his kid. Help her calm down.

He hikes Roan onto his hip, rubs her back, and says, "God, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."

You visibly relax. Eddie's surprised you didn't turn tail and run.

"Yeah? Do I have a doppelganger?" you ask. You smile in this way that's totally your own, Eddie's never seen someone grin like that before. Maybe a little shy and the shyness is making you awkward, teeth peeking out, you're pretty.

He's shocked at the thought. She's pretty.

Years of womanising (with varying success) kicks in.

"No, God no. She wasn't nearly as pretty as you are, sweetheart."

Roan seems to realise that she's not the object of his whole affection and pulls on his hair. Eddie let's his head yank to the side with a hiss and then a rueful smile. The world skews. You follow his head movement with your own.

"Is that so? I guess you'd know all about pretty," you say, head dipped to your shoulder.

Eddie gets super excited thinking he's actually managed to pull this one off (a fucking impossibility).

You hold your hand out hesitantly and wave. He realises you had not been talking about him.

"You- Oh, yeah. She's lovely, isn't she?"

You beam. "'Lovely,'" you quote. "That's a nice word." Your attention slides to Roan. She basks in it. "Hey, baby. You're just something else, aren't you? You know! You know how pretty you are, don't go shy on me."

Roan goes smiley. Chubby cheeks full of colour, she grins and pulls her dark curls in front of her face. Like father, like daughter.

"What's her name?" you ask.

"Roan. I'm Eddie."

You introduce yourself, bent just slightly to talk directly to Roan. You offer your hand.

When Roan takes it, you shake her tiny hand gently and then rub your thumb over her fingers. "Nice to meet you, princess."

"Hi," she says slowly.

You give her hand a small squeeze and then take a step back, arms moving behind you. "God, she's a pretty baby. And she looks so much like you."

"Yeah?" he asks warmly.

You realise what you've said with a look like you've been struck. After a second, you blink and laugh self-consciously. "Well. It's true."

He's out of the game. He's miles away from the game. But if he doesn't ask you for coffee that's gotta be self sabotage, right? Eddie's trying to find the words when you take a strange breath.

"Listen, I've seen you around and- I know this is weird. Sorry, but you really are- God. Sorry, but do you wanna get coffee? Sometime?" you ask, clunky and awkward.

Eddie's enamoured. He forgets to answer because he can't believe his luck and you take it for something different, adding, "Or not coffee? What does the little lady like?"

He must smile wide enough to split his lip. "Chocolate, mostly."

"Like cake and stuff?"

"Loves it."

You nibble at the inside of your lip as you pull your bag around to your thigh and search inside for a pen. You pull out a leaflet, a Save The Children Pamphlet they pass around outside of the mall and wince as you tear a corner.

He watches you write down your number on the hood of his car. You do it quick, pass it to him quicker.

"You can just call me, let me know when you're free."

"I'm free when you are," he says like a loser. It's not even remotely true. Eddie's never free, but for you he's gonna make it happen.

"How about Thursday?"

Eddie nods. Roan slips down his side and looks between you both like she's watching a tennis match.

"Yeah, Thursday is perfect."

You smile. Eddie takes it all in, everything, your smile and your hair and your clothes and the way your fingers pull at one another. He can't believe you're the nervous one right now. His heart spins like a top in his chest.

"I'm sorry to ask you out and jet, but there's somewhere I gotta be," you say. You sound genuinely apologetic.

"No, of course-"

"But I'll see you on Thrusday. Outside of, um, Morgan's Desserts?"

"Sure, but-"

"Yeah?" you ask.

"I can bring Roan?" he asks.

Your expression softens. "Please. If you don't I'm gonna stand you up."

He laughs abruptly, a shock of it like a firecracker in his chest.

You move like you might leave but then pick up his grocery bag and pass it back it to him. "Bye, princess," you pause to say, looking melted by his daughter's puppy dog eyes, if he does say so himself.

"Bye," she says sweetly.

You nod at him. He nods back.

"Thursday," he calls at your retreating figure. You know, to make sure.

You shoot him a smile over your shoulder.

Roan turns in his hold to stare at his face.

"What?" he asks her.

"Chocolate?" she questions.

"Heard that, did you?" he mutters.

more eddie and roan

#eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem!reader #eddie munson x reader blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie and roan

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mellaithwen · 19 days

Text

To hum and sway (bucktommy, 1.4k words)

[read on ao3]

Spoilers/Spec-fic for 7x06 "There Goes The Groom" After the wedding that wasn’t, and the wedding that was, after the search, and the rescue, and the drama of the day, Buck finds himself sitting in the hospital waiting room when Tommy turns up...

Now that Chimney’s been moved out of the ICU, the hospital staff have kindly set up a cot bed in his room for Maddie to get some rest beside him, while Buck stands—or rather–-sits sentry outside. While his sister clearly couldn’t have predicted she’d be reading out her vows standing between a heart-rate monitor and an IV stand, Buck’s just glad she was able to read them out to Chim at all.

A nurse shuffles past Buck down the corridor, and he pulls his legs back from where they’d been obnoxiously extended in his late-night exhaustion. He runs a hand through his hair, grimacing at the bright fluorescent lights of the waiting room before stretching his neck and shoulders until he hears a satisfying pop.

His hands clench into tight fists on either side of the chair he’s sat in, and he grips them tightly until his knuckles are white and the pain of his own nails digging into the flesh of his palms is enough to distract the guilt spiral he’s been fending off all day.

Maddie and Chimney will get their big-day. Buck will make sure of it. They’ll have the party that they rightly deserve, surrounded by their friends and family. A happy day, a calm day. The quiet, intimate ceremony in their own back garden that they’d wanted all along before losing track of the guestlist.

But that would be later. When they were both ready, and recovered. At least for now they got to wear the rings. At least they got to call each other husband and wife.

Finally.

“Evan?” Buck’s head shoots up from where he’d been lying back, leaning his heavy head against the wall.

There were so few people who called him by his given name nowadays...

His parents had long since left to do what they referred to as “damage control” with the guests and venue—since the rest of the 118 were more concerned with Maddie and Chimney than appeasing distant relatives who had traveled just so gosh darn far, Evan.

He’d corrected Bobby almost instantly on that first day so many years ago, that his name was Buck, and besides, his captain was currently driving Mr and Mrs Lee back home for the evening after spending so many hours in the same holding pattern of he’s stable—that’s the main thing—until Chimney had finally woken up and insisted with a raspy voice, that his Captain marry he and Maddie right then, right now...

And Eddie? Eddie had only ever called him Evan the once.

(Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t think about that moment often…)

But no, it wasn’t him either; Eddie was with Hen, roaming the corridors for a vending machine that worked until Bobby came back to bully them all into finally getting into his truck and going home. So that just left…

“Tommy? W-what are you—?”

“I came as soon as I heard he’d been found. How’s Howie doing? How’s your sister?”

Buck’s brain struggles to keep up, his software in need of an update—Tommy’s here, standing in front of him. In the hospital corridor. Buck’s phone was god knows where, and with Chimney missing and his sister losing her mind with worry, he hadn’t had a chance to think about the fact he’d accidentally ghosted his date. But here he was. Standing in front of Buck like a guardian angel who’d done more than his own fair share to help in the search—all the while still wearing the clothes he’d put on as Buck’s plus one to the wedding that never happened that morning.

This is probably the closest thing to flustered he’s seen Tommy look the whole time he’s known him, and if the circumstances were different Buck thinks he would have found it endearing—but his head’s too much of a mess to even go there right now. The soft blue shirt he’s wearing is rumpled now but Buck just knows it would have been pressed and clean to start with. The slacks and matching suit jacket are both a wooly kind of mauve. Buck thinks it would have been nice to press up against the material as they slow-danced at the end of the evening. The lights would be dimmed, while the wedding band played something slow. He wonders if his parents would have noticed. He finds he also doesn’t really care.

He remembers Maddie and Chimney’s kiss under a symphony of high-pitched beeps, and the mumbled static of a tannoy announcement requesting a doctor’s presence in triage. Jee had clapped her hands in Mrs Lee’s arms before pretending to throw invisible flowers in the air just like she’d practiced with her uncle Buck.

How’s Howie doing? How’s your sister?

“They’re—” Buck falters when he finally answers, genuinely unsure in the grand scheme of things. If he were to answer literally, he’d say they were sleeping. But emotionally? Physically?

“They’re…”

Chimney’s in the hospital. Maddie almost lost him again, and if Buck looks down, he knows he’ll find that there’s still patches of dried blood on the sleeves of his ruined pink jacket—remnants of the day, along with the pounding behind his eyes that he just can’t seem to shake.

Tell Maddie—

No, no Chim, don’t you dare make me do that, you can tell her yourself, okay? Just stay with me. Eddie’s gone to get help and Maddie’s waiting for you to come home—

“They’re married!” Buck finishes with a laugh that’s incredulous only so far as the circumstances of the last twenty four hours have made him seriously question his own sanity. Or maybe that’s just the last dregs of adrenaline leaving his head in a spin.

“Bobby performed the ceremony, but Chimney wore the white-gown this time.”

He’s deflecting. He’s searching for humor, for the laugh to be had at the absurdity of it all. He’s the class clown disrupting the other kids because he didn’t hear what the teacher said and he’s trying not to panic. He’s overcompensating at the academy because he has no support system to speak of in LA, and he needs this. He wants this. He can’t flunk out. He can’t fail.

He’s pushing and pushing and pushing to see where the boundary lies, to see how far he can go before he disappoints the family he’s found at the 118. He wants to know where that line in the sand is. How long until the tide comes in? How long until he drowns?

He’s….. he’s exhausted. And when Tommy tilts his head to the side and frowns, reading Buck like an open book of sad tells, suddenly the effort to keep the mask in place is too much. His shoulders slump and Buck’s whole body hunches forward with the weight of the day pressing down on him—only to find Tommy’s arms there ready to catch him when he falls.

“He nearly died,” Buck whispers into the crook of Tommy’s neck as he’s embraced. “Chim nearly died and if we hadn’t found him when we did….”

His voice cracks, the words seemingly too painful to even speak into the universe. Buck can’t bear to say more, and Tommy doesn’t ask him to either, he just pulls him in closer, squeezes him that little bit tighter, and holds him there for as long as he needs. He brings his hand up to the back of Buck’s neck, gently kneads at the knot he finds there. Cradles him like he’s something precious and deserving when for so long he’s convinced himself of the opposite.

After a time, when Buck’s breathing starts to even out, the hitch in his chest seemingly dissolved into the atmosphere, and the shock has thawed enough for him to feel the soft material of Tommy’s jacket under his fingertips, he finds that Tommy has been slowly moving their bodies into a sway. Leading, just a little bit—really they’re barely moving at all—but if Buck pretends, he thinks he can hear music playing.

“You said you wanted to dance,” Tommy says; answering the question Buck hadn’t gathered up the courage to ask yet. For the first time in hours, Buck’s mind goes quiet.

“Thank you,” he whispers a little self-consciously when the words catch in his throat.

Thank you for coming, thank you for holding me, thank you for being here with no judgment and no expectations. Thank you for caring when we barely even know each other. Thank you for treating me kindly, for being gentle and soft when all day I’ve felt like I was being strangled with barbed wire. Thank you.

When Tommy hums in response, Buck can’t help but lean into the embrace, finding solace in his arms. He can feel the warmth of his breath drifting along the side of his neck, soothing the goosebumps that reside there.

And when he presses a soft kiss on the stubble of Tommy’s jaw, it tickles.

-fin.

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hardlyinteresting · 3 months

Text

Personal

Aaron Hotchner x reader

A case hits a little too close to home for the reader. Hotch makes sure she knows she not alone even as they struggle to decide if they're colleagues, friends, or something more.

Warnings: female reader, (I've given her the nickname Sweets), No physical description of reader, mildly graphic descriptions of injuries, cannon-compliant themes of violence, themes of past domestic violence, mild hurt/comfort, I am not a profiler so there are likely mistakes in the profile (please let me know if there are any warnings you'd like me to add. Aaron Hotchner Masterlist | Send Requests

Word count: 3.2K

"Hope is a gift. You can't choose to have it. To believe and yet to have no hope is to thirst beside a fountain" Ann-Marie MacDonald

The case comes in early in the morning. Aaron has hardly managed a sip of his coffee when the phone rings with a call from a local P.D. in Aberdeen, Virginia. It's urgent. It always is. He cannot begrudge the haste with which his job forces him to chug down the scalding liquid in his mug as he calls upon Garcia to prep the relevant files for the case. It's not the first time, and it certainly won't be the last. Sufficiently caffeinated (albeit with a burnt tongue), and briefed on the case, Hotch calls the team to meet him in the conference room.

His colleagues seem to be in good spirits today. With a passing glance around the room Hotch silently completes a behavioural checklist for each of them in his mind. No one on the team seems over-exhausted, overtly anxious, or withdrawn. They chat amongst themselves, teasing and joking like siblings as they wait for him to settle into the remaining seat at the table. He nods at Penelope, “Garcia, let's get started”. With a quick “yes, sir,” she presses a button on the remote to begin the briefing.

This morning the police in Aberdeen discovered the body of a woman left propped up against the wall outside a local medical clinic. Abigail Lawson. 27 years old. She had been badly beaten. A single stab wound. No sign of sexual assault.

“Cause of death?” Prentiss asks.

“Blunt force trauma to the head,” Garcia supplies the response.

“And she's the first?” Morgan follows up.

“Two weeks ago Stella Amos, twenty-five, was admitted to hospital with similar injuries. She passed away two hours later. A punctured lung”.

The photographs of the injuries are disturbing. After years on the job, the images never seem to get less brutal. A chill travels down his spine as he looks over the extent of the wounds on both of the women. A hush falls over the room as everyone else takes a moment to swallow down their own shock and compartmentalize their feelings of disgust. They train themselves, scanning the photographs and notes for the facts they can work with in hopes of saving anyone else from meeting the same fate.

“No stab wound. Are we sure these cases are connected?” Reid surveys the provided facts one more time.

“Similar age, hair colour. They were from the same neighbourhood. Steady jobs,” Rossi lists, “there's a pattern in victimology to be sure”.

“They could be unconnected acts of domestic violence,” Morgan posits before continuing, “but leaving these women at medical centres is unique. Could be remorse”.

“A man who beats women within an inch of their lives before dropping them off for medical attention. It's a big risk. Knowing they might survive to identify him”.

Hotch nods at the assessment. He had followed the same thought process himself when he got the call.

“Maybe he's banking on them being too afraid to talk if they do pull through,” another voice in the room speaks up for the first time this morning. Sweets, the team calls her. An affectionate nickname that’s stuck since her first week on the team. “the stabbing is an escalation and these are high-risk victims. This UNSUB isn't worried about getting caught. These attacks are personal to him somehow”. It's an important assertion, and something they'll need to consider as they build and expand their working profile.

He's glad to hear Sweets adding to the conversation. She's never been shy when contributing to the team's brainstorms, and he had begun to worry when it had taken her so long to speak up. He doesn't miss the wobble in her tone, or the way she now avoids eye contact. She’s a valuable team member, and despite being the most recent addition she’s settled herself flawlessly over the last year. Aaron is well aware of the poor retention rate for new team members in the BAU and has continued to be impressed by her ability to hang on to her brand of optimism and take their most difficult cases in stride. She’s worked hard to see the best in people, and unsurprisingly endeared herself to those around her; himself included.

At first, Hotch had been grateful for her unique perspective from her experience working for victim services. Then, he grew to appreciate her attention to detail, and the way his piles of paperwork seemed smaller and smaller at the end of each week. She quickly became a friend and a confidant after long nights in the office, and the field. Now, their relationship lies in limbo somewhere between friends and something more.

Lately, the tugging at his heartstrings has grown nearly painful. All the old cliches leave his heart racing and he feels like a teenager whenever her hand brushes against his own. A night out with the team had ended with her curled up in his bed the next morning, and he’s been a goner ever since. It's been weeks, she hasn’t mentioned it, so neither has he. The guise of professionalism makes it easy to shove down his insecurities, and recurring fears; his age; his scars, physical and metaphorical; the weight of his career; he pushes them to the back of his mind. He does not dare to hope. He does not allow himself to consider the reasons why she might want to keep him at arm's length. It hurts less that way. “Whatever the case we've got a week before he strikes again,” Hotch confirms, his mind focused on the case, “we should head out”.

It’s August, and the sun is nearly blinding; the heat and humidity are intolerable, but nobody complains as they split up between the most recent crime scene, the morgue, and the precinct. Hotch would never admit it, but he’s glad when the woman who occupies half his thoughts volunteers to head to the station with JJ. Not for his peace of mind, but hers. Driving into the town he had seen her hands fidgeting in the back seat of the Suburban. Something about this case is already weighing on her, and he doubts the discomfort of the summer calefaction will be much help. He tries not to think about it any more than that.

The crime scene doesn’t tell them much more than they already knew. There’s no security footage to help them identify the UNSUB. But, the way he leans the victims to sit against the way rather than just dumping them shows some kind of warped sense of concern for their well-being. The women are likely substitutes for someone else. He was likely raised in a violent home. He can only hope that the rest of the team has managed to learn more.

Sweets is glad that the station had the forethought to move a coffee maker into the room they’ve set up for the BAU team to work out of. In her short time on the team, she’s learned how essential caffeine is to the function of herself and her teammates. Not enjoying coffee is not an option. Cream and sugar make it tolerable to those who despise the bitter taste. As she preps her second cup of the day she watches Spencer dump 4 packets of sugar into his mug. Whatever gets you through the case. She reminds herself.

“Defensive wounds on her arms, but her manicure wasn't chipped. There was no blood or skin under her fingernails. No bruising on her knuckles,” Morgan shares what he and Rossi learned at the morgue, “She held her arms up to protect herself, but she didn't fight back. She didn't scratch, claw, or punch her assailant”.

“She probably knew him then,” Prentiss says, “He’s not sneaking up on these women. But, he has the advantage and control required to attack them head-on”.

The profile continues to build and Sweets pulls further in on herself. The personal nature of the attacks leaves her nauseous. Flickers of memories she’s fought hard to forget flash behind her eyes, but she forces herself to stay in the room. Reign it in, she wills herself. Without looking across the room she knows Aaron’s eyes are on her. Her cheeks warm though she can’t be sure if it’s his gaze or her anxiety to blame. She tries not to read into it, not wanting to feel too self-important. It’s his job to watch everyone on the team, she knows that. It doesn’t mean anything, she reminds herself the same way she has since she woke up next to him all those weeks ago. She doesn't want attention because she slept with him, and she'd be silly to think it meant anything to him anyway. It's easier to ignore it. He hasn't mentioned it, so she hasn't either.

Despite her best efforts, she does like him. More than she should. Normally, the attention would leave her with butterflies fluttering in her chest, like a schoolgirl with a crush. But today, she feels too seen, too exposed. she focuses her attention on controlling the unwanted emotions this case continues to dredge up. Aaron has seen her undressed, he’s seen her let down her walls and crack jokes. He knows her better than the rest of the team, but this is not a side of her he needs to see.

Under the table she plants her feet, pressing the soles of her boots hard against the linoleum. She reminds herself who she’s with and why she’s here. When she’s able to breathe without gagging she speaks up, “If it looks like domestic violence maybe that’s exactly what it is”. Hotch’s head tilts up, his eyes moving off of the files he’s been pretending to read for the hundredth time, “What do you mean?”

“This morning Morgan said these murders looked like cases of DV. Maybe that’s exactly what this is. We know he had some kind of relationship with the victims-- maybe they were dating him,” Sweets holds her breath waiting for a response.

“It would help to explain the gaps in our profile-- Prentiss, call Garcia and have her look into any recent purchases by the victims. New clothes, new shoes, restaurants, anything that might suggest they’ve been dating,” Hotch instructs, “Sweets, you and JJ should speak to their friends and family; ask if they’ve mentioned anyone new in their lives”.

Like with any case, she hopes her insight helps, that her perspective and thinking might get them one step closer to finding the UNSUB before anyone else gets hurt; and that they might be able to bring closure to the families of the victims.

She's learned that personal experience can help as much as it can hinder. Seeing things from an angle that no one else can is certainly an advantage, but it doesn't make it easy to live with either. But, her stomach churns. His face. His touch. The bruises he left behind. She tries to remember she has nothing to be ashamed of. She has nothing to hide. It's no secret everyone on the team struggles with different types of cases, JJ has always found it difficult working cases involving children, and Hotch becomes snappier when they're searching for family annihilators.

She can feel Aaron's eyes on her again. She prays the twisting in her gut and the scratching in her mind are worth it.

The next morning begins with news of a third victim. A Jane Doe was found outside the fire station. Aged between 22 and 25. Beaten beyond any kind of recognition. The M.E. will have to try to use dental records to ID her.

The crime scene photographs are a gruesome addition to the already horrific crime board in the conference room. “It would take an incredible amount of rage and power to beat someone to death like this,” Rossi points out.

Hotch’s fingers buzz. His usual ground method of rubbing his thumb and forefinger together isn't working. He clenches and unclenches his fist willing the memory of bone cracking, and blood splattering beneath his knuckles away. He hates that even years after his death George Foyet continues to find new ways to sink his teeth in; the mere memory of him is enough to leave bile rising in the back of Aaron's throat.

Their profile is ready. A white male, mid 20s to early 30s. Traditionally attractive. He's well-groomed and takes pride in his appearance. He more than likely works in an office setting. At work, his desk is neat and well-organized. He does everything by the book. He aspires to a role above his own and will talk about it often. In his eyes, he's overworked and under-appreciated; but, in reality, it's his quick temper and outward frustration that have kept him in his menial role. He may be flirtatious towards the women around him but likely won't pay them any attention when it comes to business matters. As a child he would have grown up in a working-class household, and more than likely faced abuse at the hands of his father. As a teenager, he learned to place blame on his mother for this abuse and began looking down on her the same way his father did. But no amount of hatred could ever win him his father's attention. This made him hate his mother more and allowed his misogynistic views to solidify in adulthood. He will have a history of violence throughout school and early adulthood, and more than likely charges for battery or assault.

A call from Garcia confirms that the first and second victims both had paid for dinners at restaurants within the same two-block stretch despite living and working on opposite sides of town. Their cards had been used at the restaurants only 25 minutes before their attacks.

“And he didn’t pay for their dinners either. Chivalry really is dead,” Prentiss dismisses. Predictably, their collective disdain for the UNSUB continues to grow as they learn more about him. Penelope manages to rustle up security footage from one of the restaurants, she's unable to get a facial ID on the man leaving with the first victim but promises to search for other footage from the area and call back when she has a new lead. One step closer, Hotch reminds himself.

Twenty minutes later word from the M.E. Office arrives. A positive ID on Jane Doe. Grace McKinney, 24. Aaron watches as Sweets pins a photograph of Grace to the victims' board. Her hands shake as she takes a step back, and then she's rushing out of the room before he can ask if she's alright.

His body feels lead-heavy, his limbs so hebetudinous that he’d swear he was melting into the floor if it weren’t for his feet carrying him out of the room without instruction. Sweets is doubled over in the alleyway behind the station, remnants of her breakfast splashed across the ground. She has nothing left to bring up, but still she dry heaves as if trying to expel more than the contents of her stomach. He knows the feeling.

“Sweets?” his voice starles her, and Hotch is quick to hold his hands out in a surrendering motion as he approaches, “Are you alright?” He knows the real answer, and he knows that she’ll look right at him and lie; but he asks anyway. “Are you asking as my boss, or as my friend?” She asks. “Would it make a difference?” it’s his turn to wonder. Finally close enough to touch her, he places a hand on her back. It’s impossible to miss the shiver that runs up her spine. Sweets hides her face, angling herself away from her, shrinking in on herself. She tries to hide from him, as unwilling as ever to show any kind of weakness real or perceived. “I’m asking as someone who cares,” Hotch tries again, snuffing out the burning sensation that seems to grow in his chest; his fear of vulnerability fighting hard to shut him down. He won’t let it. “It’s me,” she tells him as if it’s obvious. “Yes”. He's confused. Of course, it's her, he can see her standing right in front of him. “It's me. I'm the Jane Doe; Grace. Abigail. Stella”. His heart stops. She continues, looking at him for the first time, her eyes tearing up, “Not literally-- I just mean…”

“The victimogy. I understand. Same age, hair colour, similar backgrounds--”

“Yes,” She admits, “but we see cases with women who look like me all the time”.

Aaron nods, taking her openness as an opportunity to guide her out of the alleyway, waiting patiently for her to continue in her own time. “I had a boyfriend a few years ago…I just-- I need some time to collect myself”.

Again, Aaron nods, understanding, “Would you like me to leave?”

She shakes her head, her hand shooting up to hold to his arm. She’s shaking less now than she was before. More than ever he wants to hold her, but he doesn’t want to overstep; and during a case, there are lines he cannot cross as her boss. It’s the crux of the predicament they’ve found themselves in. Their personal lives and feelings bleeding and blending to create this strait. Deep down, he’s sure that a line of open communication between them would ease this impasse, but he’s far too shy to suggest it. For now, he settles for being glad her breathing has slowed, and her tears have stopped. “Thank you,” Sweets breathes out. Her hand slips down to squeeze his before she lets go and steps away from him. “Anytime,” he swears. He means it.

They find their UNSUB three hours later. Garcia’s scanning of security footage gives them a few license plates from cars within a two-block radius of the restaurants the victims went to. Only one owner fits their profile. He’s at work when they find him. Sweets takes great pleasure in cuffing the man. Hotch has no complaints.

When they arrive back in Quantico it’s nearing midnight. The team takes their leaving swearing they’ll finish their paperwork tomorrow morning. Sweets takes advantage of the rare silence in the bullpen to complete her reports. She’s not ready to go home. Not yet. At work, she has a shield, a carefully crafted persona; as cracked as it may be at the moment, it holds back the onslaught of personal fallout she’s sure waits for her at home. Sure her apartment is warmer and cozier than the office ever is. Her bed is far more comfortable than any desk chair. But, at home, she has nothing to distract her. At home, she has no obligation to maintain a facade sewn up by professional self-preservation. At home, she’ll be alone without the steady presence of Aaron Hotchner working away in his office.

The room is bathed in warm lamplight, a comfortable difference from the overhead fluorescents down in the bullpen. Something like a moth, she’s drawn to it by an instinct stronger than her willpower. She knocks on the door frame before leaning into the room. “I finished my report,” she tells him when he looks up. “You didn’t have to finish that tonight,” he tells her with furrowed brows. He sets down his pen and shuts the file he was working on to give her his attention. She steps into the room, setting her report on the edge of his desk. “I didn’t want to go home yet”. She explains though she gets the feeling that he understands. If there’s anyone she knows with a mutual streak of using workplace responsibility to avoid personal turmoil, it’s Hotch. Still, he nods, validating her most simply. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Are you asking as my boss or something more?” she wonders.

“Would it make a difference?” He asks. “Yes,” She responds. Sweets watches as he swallows, his brows knitting together as he considers his answer carefully, “I’m asking as someone who cares about you very much, in whatever capacity you need me to right now”. It’s a diplomatic response. Gentle and inviting without being outright hopeful. Quintessentially Aaron Hotchner.

“Will you come home with me,” Sweets allows herself to be bold enough to ask.

“Yes,” he tells her simply.

In the morning he slips away only to return with two cups of coffee and a box of breakfast pastries. They don’t need to be in the office until 10:00 and he plans on taking advantage of the time they have together until then. Sweets accepts the cup he holds out to her with an eager smile, and a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch x reader #criminal minds fic

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fullsandwichmiracle · 3 months

Text

"Oxford: A Year Abroad, part four”

Paring: Felix Catton x reader

Warning: 18+, nsfw, MDNI, smut, oral, betrayal, over stimulation

Word count: 2531

01|02|03|04|05|?

As the week rolled on, Y/N returned to her dorm after Thursday's lecture. Feeling a burst of motivation, she decided to head to the library to wrap up her essay, as plans with her friends awaited at a local bar during the weekend. Settling into a cozy corner, Y/N worked on the finishing touches and proofreading.

Amidst the quiet library ambiance, she suddenly caught snippets of hushed voices and muffled laughter nearby. Curiosity getting the better of her, Y/N peeked through a gap between the books to see what was unfolding. Unable to recognize anyone from her vantage point, she sighed, abandoning the attempt to decipher the mysterious scene. She heard quiet moans and laughter as she continued reading through the paper and correcting her spelling as she went along.

When packing her bag Y/N looked up and catched a glimpse of Felix leaving the library following a girl. Y/N knew that she couldn't be overly upset, yet a sinking feeling persisted in her heart. The uncertainty of her relationship with Felix lingered, adding a layer of drama to her thoughts. For all she knew, she might just be a fleeting hookup in his eyes, their connection lacking any official commitment or exclusivity.

Opting not to dwell too much on the situation, Y/N proceeded to pack her bag and exited the library.

When Y/N got to her room, she laid down on her bed with a heavy sigh, feeling a tear roll down her cheek. Despite the absence of any formal commitment between them, a sense of betrayal weighed heavy on her heart. She couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps she had invested more emotionally in their connection than Felix had. The echoes of their encounter lingered, and she grappled with the realization that expectations, unspoken as they were, had been shattered. After pondering the situation for a while, Y/N picked up her book and began reading, seeking condolence in the fictional world to escape the unsettling thoughts that lingered in her mind.

As the night progressed, she heard a knock on her door while engrossed in her book. Assuming it was one of her friends, she casually yelled, "It's open," without looking up. The door creaked open, and to her surprise, Y/N glanced up to find Felix leaning against the doorframe. The overwhelming sense of betrayal washed over her again, and tears welled up as she uttered, "Just go, be with your other girls," pouring out her emotions to him.

Felix stood there, his expression a mix of surprise and concern, as Y/N struggled to contain her emotions. He moved towards her bed, taking a seat beside her as she continued to cry, he gently reached out, attempting to comfort her with a reassuring touch on her shoulder.

“What do you mean?” he questioned, gently stroking her back in an attempt to console her and halt the flow of tears. Frustration and confusion lingered in Y/N's eyes as she looked at Felix, still trying to comprehend the situation.

"I saw you leaving the library," Y/N cried out, curled up in a ball, attempting to vanish into her own misery. Unable to contain her emotions, Y/N poured out her feelings, accusingly adding, "I feel like I was just another one of your toys.". Felix gently shushed her, his fingers soothingly combing through her hair as he attempted to bring comfort and calmness.

"You're more than that, Y/N. Nothing happened between me and that girl, we were just..." he started to say but stopped mid-sentence, realizing the difficulty of explaining the situation. "Just what, Felix?" Y/N uttered with a teary, cracked voice from crying. Felix sighed deeply, realizing the gravity of the situation. He cupped Y/N's face in his hands, wiping away her tears gently. Felix tried to explain, "I didn't even touch her; we were just high, having a laugh. It meant nothing, Y/N." trying to get her to understand what she thought she had seen.

"You don't have to trust me; I get that you feel betrayed. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, and I'm not leaving," he said, still cupping her cheek and wiping away the tears streaming down her face. Felix continued to comfort her, his gaze filled with sincerity as he tried to mend the emotional turmoil that had unfolded. "You don't have to respond. I can go if you prefer," he said gently as his fingers delicately brushed her hair away from her face, she remained silent, her emotions swirling in turmoil. Felix continued to sit there, his presence made Y/N feel a mix of comfort and compassion having him there next to her. As Y/N remained silent, Felix started to stand and felt remorse for hurting her and not being able to mend it.

"Can you stay?" she softly uttered as he reached the door, not wanting him to leave. Y/N looked up, meeting her teary eyes with Felix, who had a tear rolling down his cheek. "Of course, anything for my princess," he said, wiping away his tears as he walked back to Y/N in the bed. As he lay down next to her, he gently embraced her, holding her close, and whispered, "I'm here for you," planting a soft kiss on the back of her head. Y/N drifted off to sleep in Felix's embrace, finding comfort in the warmth of his arms.

The next day Y/N woke up to the sound of her alarm, its intrusive tone cutting through her sleep while she was still entangled in Felix's embrace. Felix planted a kiss on her cheek, also awoken by the sudden blare of the alarm. "Did you manage to get some sleep, darling?" he mumbled in his groggy morning voice that Y/N adored. Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of comfort in Felix's embrace, and replied, "A little. Thanks for staying," cuddling up, trying to get closer to Felix to avoid getting up and starting her day. “No worries, I wanted to be with you” he said, kissing her on the neck. “What do you have today?” Felix asked, stroking her hair.

“Only one lecture,” Y/N answered, melting by the feeling of Felix caressing her hair.

“Do you have to go?” he whispered in her ear then kissed her neck. Y/N already tired from a full week of school and already done with her assignment, pondered taking the day off and spending it with Felix.

“Maybe missing one lecture won't ruin my attendance” she replied, never wanting to leave his arms.

Felix continued to place small kisses on her neck and began caressing her body softly. He whispered “I can't keep my hands away from you” as he kissed her behind her ear, making a pleasant shiver roll down Y/N spine.

The feeling of Felix touching her body made her forget about what happened yesterday melting away by his gentle touches. Y/N let out a small moan in pleasure as his hand traced down her body, she turned around so she was facing Felix gazing into his soft eyes. He kissed her on her lips passionately pulling her closer to him. As he continued to kiss Y/N he rolled over now leaning over. The swift motion and seeing Felix towering over her made her pussy begin throbbing, Y/N reached for his hair, embedding her fingers gripping Felix's hair. His hand began to wander under her shirt she was still wearing from yesterday, fondling her breasts. Felix stopped kissing Y/N and began taking off her shirt “Do you want me to continue?” Felix said as he kissed her on her belly. “Yes, please don't stop,” Y/N answered wanting all of him.

After taking off her shirt Felix sat up taking his off, Y/N glared at his torso and began caressing his abs, nearly drooling, admiring his physique. Felix grinned, guiding her hands towards his crotch. When her hand reached his crotch she began to unbuckle his belt and started to breathe heavily. She could feel his cock throbbing inside his pants and the feeling made her unable to focus, as she finally got down his zipper he stood up taking off his pants before going back to Y/N and gently pulled down her bottoms while kissing her legs as he went along. Y/N felt flustered by his gentle approach, a contrast to their previous encounter. Felix started leaving small kisses and nibbles on her thighs moving up along her body while running his fingers as he progressed. Y/N let out a small moan from his touches that made her body shiver in excitement, wanting him even more.

When he reached her eye level he planted a kiss on her lips “Do you wanna keep going?” Seeking reassurance, uncertain about the extent to which she would permit his actions, Aware of his behavior from the previous day and how it had affected her. Y/N simply nodded, too flustered to speak.

Felix began kissing her again and reached down to her soaking wet panties. He started sliding a finger outside following the contour from her pussy, Y/N moaned and twitched from the sensation. He slipped them to the side and entered his finger slowly into her drenched pussy, as he continued to passionately kiss Y/N. She moaned and softly bit his lips, desiring him to give her more. Felix stopped kissing Y/N on her mouth instead trailing down her body, he planted a kiss right above as he met the line of her panties. Felix bit down on her underwear and dragged them down with his teeth. When he got back he planted one more kiss in the same place before looking up at Y/N again looking for reassurance. Y/N nodded once more, biting her lip with anticipation. Felix wandered down planting kisses as he slowly reached her clit, and began to circle it with his tongue, feeling it pulsating. Y/N let out a moan as he entered two fingers into her pulsating pussy. He proceeded at a slow pace, driving Y/N to the brink of insanity, grabbing his hair and scrunching it in pleasure. Felix began finger fucking her at a more rapid pace making her moan loader. While continuing to finger her Felix sat up taking off his boxers with his other hand. Going back down kissed her on her clit before pulling out his fingers and liking them clean. Felix seductively whispered “You taste so freaking good” as he was done tasting her on his fingers.

Felix pulled Y/N toward his hips and laid his big dick on her stomach, Y/N looked down realizing how far up it would go into her. He backed up a bit, proceeding to lead his cock inside her. As Y/N felt as the tip entered her and she let out a small moan, she had missed this feeling. He slowly went deeper into her wet throbbing pussy, and let out a moan at the same time as Y/N. Felling Felix cock filling her up and stretching her walls made her eyes roll back as she moaned “oh Daddy, Go faster”. Felix began thrusting faster right away “Anything for my princes” He said, taking her hand and holding it down over her head. He tried to be gentle but his dominant side started to come back as he heard her moans. Felix turned Y/N over making her face meet the bed, He grabbed her pelvis and dragged up her ass entering her once again. Y/N gasped by the quick movement and moaned as he entered her stretching her walls again. He began thrusting her at a faster pace making her moan loudly as his cock hit her cervix. Felix grabbed Y/N hair and pulled her up while thrusting into her, making Y/N moan nearly scream. Felix shushed her and moved his hand to her mouth placing his fingers in her mouth to dampen the sound of her loud moans. The new position made Felix hit her g-spot every time he thrusted into her. Y/N could not contain herself begin to squirt as he started fucking her faster screaming in plesure, the sound being muffled by his fingers. Felix grunted as he made her squirt and slapped her on ass as he began going even faster and somehow deeper than before.

“ I'm cuming” moaned Y/N as she let out a muffled scream. “Good girl, cum on daddy's dick” He said grunting as he continued at the same pace. Y/N overwhelmed from the pressure that had built up, came and moaned loudly but still muffled by his fingers. His pace slowed down for a while as Felix removed his fingers from her mouth instead placing it around her neck before he began to pick up the pace again. His grip around her neck was tight but still felt good, His new pace making Y/N body shake as she had already cummed once and as the pressure built up once again. For every trust as Felix hips bounced on her ass, Y/N loudly moaned every time he hit her g-spot.

“I´m going to fuck you until you can´t stand” he whispered leaning his head against the back of her head. As his hips hit against her hips again hitting her g-spot, Y/N came once more moaning loudly and shaking by the over stimulation of every stroke inside her. Felix chuckled as he continued to fuck her “That´s my good girl” he moaned still keping the same pace and trying to hold Y/N still as she was twitching. He let go of her neck and grabbed her by her waist to go deeper.

“fuck, your so good” He grunted as he continued to thrust inside her. Felix bit his lips as he released himself inside her, mixing their cum on his dick, every thrust Y/N could feel how Felix was filling her up.

Felix went all the way in one more time before he pulled out his cum soaked dick.

Felix turned Y/N around making her face him. “ Clean up your mess” he said tracing his cock around Y/N lips. She opened her mouth and began liking their mixed fluids up cleaning his dick. When she was done she fell down into the bed not being able to hold herself up anymore. “Such a good little girl,” He said, kissing her on her forehead before laying down next to her. After around a minute Felix stood up leaving Y/N in the bed walking away to the bathroom to grab something to clean her up with. As he came back Felix dried Y/N skin and wiped off her pussy, when he was done he picked her up moving her away from the wet spot on the bed and laid down the towel before laying down next to her again. They laid in bed for a while both breathing heavily, and falling back into sleep.

Tag list: @celestialstar111 , @cycy9

#felix catton smut #felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton #felix catton fanfic #felix catton saltburn #felix catton x you #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn #jacob elordi smut #jacob elordi x reader #felix catton imagine #jacob elordi imagine

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sweatervest-obsessed · 5 months

Text

Wasteland, Baby

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 3.4k

TW: Mentions of Murders, mentions of suicide, discussion of suicide, trauma, emotional turmoil, death, arguing, abandonment issues, commitment issues, Angst, some fluff

A/N: Thanks for bearing with me as I try to get off the struggle bus y'all. here is the highly anticipated part 2 of Stick Season !

All the fear and the fire of the end of the world Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl Happens great, happens sweet Happily, I'm unfazed here, too

It had been three years since you left the BAU and you had just turned down a job at the FBI from Erin Strauss. You never heard from her again.

But you did attend her funeral in D.C a week later.

You didn’t alert any of the BAU that you were returning for her funeral, since you could only imagine the pain they were feeling.

The plane ride was filled with thoughts of what life would have been like if you had rejoined the FBI. Maybe she wouldn't have died. Maybe she’d still be calling you and sending you email after email with job offers.

You had quickly stopped by the wake, the day before, to pay your respects, and give Strauss’ family your deepest condolences. It was painful, seeing someone you spoke to last week, stiff, lifeless, in a coffin where they will be for the rest of time.

But the worst part was the burial.

Blending in at a funeral has never been a strong suit of the BAU’s, except for you. You were calm, respectful, and blended in with the rest of the spectators.

Until you looked across the circle and saw Aaron Hotchner looking directly at you. Whatever he had been feeling before, was quickly wiped away when you looked back at him, confirming his suspicions that you were here, in the graveyard. The look on his face was replaced with a more somber one as he redirected his attention back to the priest, but you knew you would be unable to just leave now that you had been spotted.

Once she had been lowered into the ground, Hotch made his way towards you, catching his colleges interested. Where was he going? Who was he looking for?

“Y/n.”

You smiled at him. It didn’t reach your eyes, but it wasn;t fake either.

“It’s good to see you Hotch.”

“I didn’t know you were going to be here today.”

You nodded and looked over as the rest of the people migrated towards their cars to go to the reception afterwards. “I didn’t make it public information, considering I was planning on leaving after the ceremony. I’m just here to pay my respects Hotch.”

“She called you.”

“Yes she did.”

“And she said you turned it down.”

“I did.”

“Why.”

“Hotch, please.”

He took your elbow and pulled you away from the people, giving the two of you some semblance of privacy.

“Will you at least think about it?”

“What is there to think about Hotch? I don’t want to—”

“I wish you wouldn’t lie to me. I know you miss it Y/n. I’m not just some colleague, and you know that.”

You closed your eyes and pinched your brow. You knew coming to this funeral was a mistake. But some part of you, one that you had silenced for a very long time, was starting to break through.

“We can talk later.”

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

“I cannot believe you’re going back.”

You sighed and continued to pack up everything you owned into boxes. You had only broken down the ones from a few years ago–that same part of you had saved them for whenever you had recognized you were ready to be back in Washington D.C.

“Don’t ignore me. I thought you were done with hunting bad guys and certain doctors with glasses.”

You slammed your hands on the table, causing Lucille to jump.

“Sorry.” You muttered and slowly sunk to the ground, deciding it was just easier to sit on the ground and have a breakdown rather than talk it out.

“I’m not going back for him…I’m going back for me. This…” You ran a hand through your hair. “This is n’t what I was meant to do, Luce. I’m not a teacher. I’m okay at it, but…I was meant to be in the field. Teaching is challenging, but not in the way I need. And fuck, I love my kids, you know that I do, but it’s just…”

“It’s not who you are.” She came and sat down next to you, taking your hand in hers. “I’m gonna miss you asshole.”

You rested your head on her shoulder and squeezed her hand. “I’m going to miss you so much.” You whispered back to her.

“You have to visit me. I’ll get lonely up here.”

A smile spread across your face as a tear slowly tracked down your cheek. “ You have my permission to hunt me down and beat the shit out of me if I don’t.”

“Oh don’t worry, I will.”

All the things yet to come are the things that have passed Like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass Like the bonfire that burns That all words in the fight fell to

Your desk stayed pretty empty for the first two weeks you were back—like you were terrified that if you got too comfortable, life would pull the rug right out from under you again and you’d have to leave.

It was Garcia who first noticed this, watching as you’d pack everything up into your tote bag each night before you would go home. She didn’t say anything about it though, since you were not the same girl the BAU had grown to know.

You were different, quieter. You spoke when you had something to add, or to correct somebody, but you never participated in the banter; you never stayed longer than absolutely necessary. If the group had decided to surprise you at your new apartment, they would find it covered in boxes—walls bare, fridge almost empty, only essentials like clothes and toothbrush unpacked.

But you had never been better. Hotch had you start consulting side cases when you came back, a way to get you used to the routine of being back in the office, back in the FBI. You would consult up to three new cases a day, still helping with those that would call back a day or week later for updates or more help. They watched as you easily solved things in minutes, that might have taken the team hours.

The first time Morgan called you ‘Girl Genius’ to your face, you punched him in the arm (admittedly a bit harshly). But he wasn’t wrong. You could feel the continuous excitement flowing through your veins; your muscles flexing as you settled back into the thing you were the best at.

You were different, but better.

Spencer noticed this too. He watched as you confidently answered every question thrown at you. He watched as you consulted on cases and noticed patterns he had missed.

Spencer had missed you, badly. He knew he fucked up when he had left that night, needed to go and he spend the night away, thinking about his life; his future. Panic had flooded his body at the thought of you being the one forced to take care of him, forced to deal with his shit history and addictive personality and his annoying ass rambles. He didn’t want to subject you to that.

But then he remembered the look on your face—the pure excitement and adoration at the thought of being able to spend every single minute of your life calling him yours. And once the panic had subsided, he felt that same joy.

When he got back to the house, you weren’t there.

You weren’t at work either.

You had just vanished, and about a day later, all of your things had disappeared too.

And Spencer was a fucking wreck. He was useless at work, and he spent so much time trying to find you, but Penelope wasn’t able to find a thing, and by the time she did, it had been months later, and you clearly didn’t want to be found.

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

It didn’t help that seeing you again in Vermont made him want to melt on the spot. A great deal of relief washed over him, seeing you were alive and in front of him. But then he felt the anger rise in him. You had abandoned him, you had just disappeared without a second thought.

Then he remembered the look on your face when he panicked about marrying you.

You had thought he didn’t want to marry you.

You had no idea that he felt like he was the the problem, and if he told you know, it would just sound like a fucking excuse.

Watching you walk back into the bullpen and set up at your desk was another slap in the face. It feels like nobody tells him anything, because they don’t. But then he realized that only Hotch knew about it because everyone froze on the spot seeing you sitting at your desk, working.

At his desk, he would just watch you. On the plane, he would watch you. And he tried so hard to be nonchalant about it, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your hair, your legs, your arms, your lips—he wanted to take your hand and never let you go, fusing your skin together so he could be with you always.

He was in love with you. And he thought you would rather die than be seen with him again.

If only he knew that you felt the same way—you loved him right back.

And that day that we'll watch the death of the sun To the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on And you'll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs

After about three months, infinite pining, a few longing glances passed to one another, and incessant whining from Derek Morgan, you and Spencer Reid found yourselves together at coffee one morning.

After about a month later, you found yourself back in his apartment, lips grazing his, not being able to tell where his body ended and yours started.

Then, the next day, he told you he loved you.

He didn’t see you for a whole week afterwards.

But when he walked into work that monday, and you were sitting at your desk, completely unbothered, he took it upon himself to make you talk to him.

No one else was around, except for Hotch. But his office door was closed, and Morgan wouldn’t be around for another ten minutes anyways.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

You turned around in your chair and glared at him. “Excuse me?”

“You disappeared for a week, no word about where you were going, not even telling me you were leaving.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not now Spence.”

“I love you.”

“What?”

“I still love you.”

Your jaw dropped. “Spencer…”

“I’m dead serious Y/n. When you weren’t here after you spent the night, I lost my fucking mind. I thought I had lost you—again. And I wasn’t about to go through that again. I had fucked up once before and I—I thought you had realized you didn’t want to be with me anymore and you had left again.”

You were silent as he rambled on.

“When you left three years ago, I lost my fucking mind. I sat here, staring at your desk hoping you would materialize out of thin air just so that I could apologize to you. And then when you didn’t show up, I begged Penelope to tell me where you had run off to, so I could go and find you and beg for you to listen to me while I got on my hands and knees to beg for your forgiveness. You thought I didn’t want to marry you, but I was terrified because I thought you wouldn’t want to marry me. I mean I had just gotten sober, and I thought we were doing so well and then you brought up marriage and all I could think about was how it was another way for you to find out how much you could hate me and get sick of me since—”

You had finally snapped out the shock you were feeling and placed your hand over his mouth. “Breathe.”

Spencer shoved your hand off his mouth, but stayed silent, taking an over exaggerated breath to prove to you he did.

“We can talk about this later.”

“No.” Spencer shook his head. “We’re going to talk about this now. I want to talk about this now.”

“Spencer…”

“How do I know that you’re not going to just pack up and disappear again.”

“Spencer seriously? I don’t—-”

“You don’t do that? Because we both know you do. You’ve done it twice now.”

“What do you want me to say Spence?”

“That you still love me.” His voice was low, but his eyes were locked in on yours. “I need to know if you still love me.”

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

The Next Week

Another Day, Another Psychopath Killer.

Another way for you to throw yourself into the line of fire because you have always had a soft spot for teenagers.

Someone was targeting suicidal teens, convincing them to end their own lives, merely making him complicit in their deaths. It had sent you (and JJ) reeling. Both of you had lost someone to suicide, and watching as this person preyed on vulnerable kids who deserved to live and be loved took a lot out of the both of you.

You had a bad feeling about this case when it was first passed onto your desk, but it just got worse and worse as the week went on. If only you had figured out who it was sooner, you might have been able to save this one girl’s life. But sometimes life refuses to relent.

The jet was silent on the way back, none of you wanting to speak and break the silence.

Spencer sat next to you on the couch, offering a comforting presence, and nothing else. He knew you (and it bugged the shit out of you). Years of being with one another meant that he knew when you were upset, and he knew that you despised being touched while you were like this, but you hated being alone.

It bugged you so much, but you weren’t going to say a damn thing because having him next to you while you sat and listened to your music and spiraled was exactly what you needed.

He only offered his hand when the plane hit some turbulence, and your entire body began to shake unconsciously. It was between the two of you, and all he did was flip it, so the palm was upwards. It was an invitation that you could immediately ignore and refuse if you wanted to.

But something in you caused your hand to drop next to his and lace your fingers through his.

God was it so fucking warm, and soft. You wondered if he still used the lotion you had recommended to him all those years ago when he would complain to you about his hands being “gross” and “too dry”. He absolutely did.

He managed to hide his smile when you took his hand, but he did give yours a soft squeeze, and continued to read his book, pretending that his insides weren’t aflame and his mind was anywhere but on the words in front of him.

He didn’t turn a page for over four minutes once your hand was in his.

And I love too that love soon might end Be known in its aching Shown in the shaking Lately of my wasteland, baby Be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking Though quaking, though crazy That's wasteland, baby

That Night

“Thank you.”

It was the first thing you had said in over five hours, including the plane ride. Once the plane had landed, you and Spencer went back to his apartment, and the two of you had sat in his living room, in silence. He didn’t mind, as long as he could keep an eye on you.

Your mind was far far away. It was back in college. Thinking about your friend and about the life you could have lived if she was still with you.

Spencer had left a cup of tea next to you, your favorite, and sat on the couch. You were situated in the chair by the window, staring out into the night, watching as the rain drops raced down the window and as the lights blurred together.

He was close enough to provide you with some comfort, but far enough away to let you have whatever space you needed.

“Spence?”

He snapped out of his head, looking towards you. Your eyes were tired, and your body reflected the same type of exhaustion.

“Sorry. What do you need?”

“I—.” You interrupted yourself with a yawn, cursing under your breath. “Shit sorry. I should probably go..”

“It’s okay if you stay.”

You looked out the window then back at him.

“I’m not just saying that to get you into my bed—oh my god that came out wrong, I just mean I don’t want you out in that weather and I don’t really like the idea of you being alone tonight, especially after this case because—”

“Spencer.”

“---yeah?”

“I’ll stay.”

“O-oh. Good. good…” He nodded. “I can uh, take the couch and you can have the bed.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled slightl;y. “You’re a gentleman, Doctor Reid, but I’m not kicking you out of your bed.”

“But I—”

“Spence.”

He huffed, crossing his arms as you just laughed softly to yourself, amused.

“Why don’t we both go get ready. Together.”

“Together?”

You nodded. “Yeah Spence.”

“Okay.”

Spencer stood up, and offered his hand to you.

And for the second time today, you took it.

When the stench of the sea and the absence of green Are the death of all things that are seen and unseen Are an end but the start of all things that are left to do

And maybe the two of you would never be together ever again. Maybe you would.

But something about the way Spencer would make your favorite tea,

or the way he would save you the crossword puzzle on his morning newspaper since he knew how much you loved to solve as much as you could without his help,

or when he would leave you notes on your desk, making you feel like a giddy high schooler all over again, or when he felt like a good start to something new

or when he would kiss you good morning and good night, promising you he’d be there whenever you woke up

or when he slowly got rid of things in his apartment to create space for your things as you moved in slowly

or whenever a case was particularly rough for the both of you and he wouldn’t pester you to talk to him about it, instead offering his hand for you to take, and squeezing it, letting you know he was there for you

or the way he would take you on small vacations up to Vermont so you could go see all of your friends and escape from the world of the FBI

or the way he would never storm out of the apartment after an argument, but still give you the space you needed so you could both decompress without getting at each other's throats

or when he whispered every thing he would do for you for the rest of your lives so help him god when he thought you were asleep in his arms

or how he would whispered ‘I love you’ to you as you passed by while you both were working

or when he would never let you run off in the middle of the night because you would panic about whether or not this was all a dream, and one day he would wake up and not love you anymore

or when he got down on one knee and proclaimed his undying love for you, hoping you’d promised to love him forever in the same way he loved you, wanting to be with you, wanting to be near you always

made you feel like everything might be okay after all.

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

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