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btsugarush · 5 months

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GANGSTA | myg - 004

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni.

word count: 3.5K

authors note: yes, it is here. it only took me 76 years lmao. y’all best give me all the love since y’all wanted to be on my ass about this mf. anyway, enjoy the drama. also this was prewritren with the tags a long time ago so if you no longer wanted to be tagged or if you’re new and wanted to be tagged i’m sorry. the taglist got full but i try to switch out who i tag every chapter.

“Now, are you sure you’re okay? I can personally file a report for you.” Mr. Kim asked for the 6th time. You roll your eyes, fed up with the badgering. You didn’t understand why he cared so much anyway. He was the one that refused to listen to you when you tried to explain why it wouldn’t be a great idea for you to deliver in Gongdan.

You didn’t go into detail about the assault, or even bother to mention Yoongi being the reason it didn’t escalate. You simply just stated to him that you were attacked and managed to slip free.

Luckily for you though, the old man’s guilt for the attack led him to giving you the rest of the day off and you snatched that offer up immediately. Not like he needed your assistance, seeing as the restaurant was practically dead with only about 4 customers. “I’m fine, Mr. Kim. I promise.” You assure him one last time. “Alright then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” You exit the shop, the door dinging as you do. You spot Mina’s car sitting in front of the restaurant, and she smiles cheerfully as you climb inside. “Hey. Thanks for picking me up so early.” You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “No problem… But why am I picking you up so early? And…” she leans forward, peaking at your ripped shirt. “Why is your shirt ripped?”

You scratch your head, the thought of explaining the situation to Mina made your brain itch. “I had to deliver at the Devil’s playground again, and got attacked.” You kept it short and sweet. Mina’s eyes widened in shock. “What?! Was it that Yoongi guy again?!”

You shake your head. “It wasn’t him, it was this group of guys. Yoongi was actually the one that saved me…” you twiddle with your fingers as your mind wanders about the raven. Mina arches a brow at the gentleness in your voice. “He saved you?” You nod slowly in response. “My god, what does he expect from you now? Sexual favors?”

Of course Mina has to be the most dramatic and think the worst possible thought of everything. “No, he didn’t ask me for any favors. Which I guess is surprising for someone with his track record.” You admit, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Mina starts up the car, finally moving from the restaurant premises. “Please don’t tell me you’re buddy buddy with that thug now?”

You scoff, letting your eyes roll back. “Of course not! The guy is a criminal, and stalker. I’d never befriend him,” You argue, crossing your arms. Yoongi may have saved you, but you weren’t swayed by his heroic charm. “Anyway, enough about me and my shitty day, it’s too traumatic to talk about. Did you have a talk with Jin like I suggested?” You change the subject. Mina’s face drops at the mention of her boyfriend’s name. “Yeah, we talked for about 2 minutes before it all blew up. Now we’re not on speaking terms,” She sighs. “I think maybe I should break up with him…”

You frown. ‘There she goes being the most dramatic again…’

“Mina, don’t be so damn hasty all the time.” You try to reason with the blonde. “I’m not!” She defended herself. “I’m just tired, y/n. I’m tired of trying to figure him out. I’d rather break up with him before he breaks up with me.”

Mina had never been the girl to get her heart broken. In high school she was the one always doing the heart breaking, so you could tell that it genuinely killed her to love someone as much as she loved Jin, and not know where his head was at regarding their relationship. “I don’t know, Mina… I just know if I was in your shoes with Kookie, I’d try to work things out before I think of the worst possible outcome.”

Mina pouts, but she doesn’t continue to speak. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, you were right. She shouldn’t just jump the gun and break up with Jin. Although he was acting strangely and it was confusing the hell out of her. “You know… I’m jealous of your relationship with Kookie.” She suddenly blurts, causing you to turn to her with a raised brow. “Huh?”

“I’m jealous,” she repeats. “Of you and Jungkook.”

You tilt your head to the side, your eyebrows now scrunched in curiosity. “Why?”

Mina simply shrugs, sitting quietly for a couple of minutes before answering. “You two match, and have an unbeatable connection. You started off as best friends, which played in your favor. I met Jin in the hospital because he had a broken arm. We don’t have the history you and Jungkook have.”

You smile at the compliment towards your relationship, but quickly shake your head. “History isn’t everything. Some people marry their high school sweethearts and breakup. You and Seokjin just need to be mature– or you at least.” Mina whips her head in your direction, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean by ‘or you at least’?”

“I mean that sometimes you’re immature. You tend to freak out when things don’t go your way and storm off like a child.” Mina snarls. “I’m not immature.” She muttered to herself, practically proving your point. The car finally slows down in front of your apartment before coming to a complete stop. “Thanks for the ride again, Mina. I appreciate you.”

“Of course. I’m mature enough to pick up my best friend when she needs me.” She glares, your previous comment still not sitting well with her. You shake your head, paying no mind to her attitude. “Bye, Mina. I hope everything works out with Jin.” You pushed open the car door, climbing out.

“Yeah, you and me both.” She mutters her last words before she waits for you to close the car door, speeding off into the distance with you standing there to watch. You let out a sigh, shrugging. What was the point of her asking for your advice if she was always going to dislike what you had to say?

You turn on your heels, walking up the steps that lead to your building entrance. As you venture down the hall to your apartment, you spot a shaggy haired man placing a bouquet of flowers right in front of your front door. A smile forms your face as you see the one person you longed to see after such a horrendous experience. “Kookie?”

The brunette jumps slightly, your sudden appearance catching him off guard. Once he registers that it’s you, he smiles as well. “Well shit, I wanted to surprise you with something sweet when you got off. Guess that’s a fail.” He scratches the back of his neck, chuckling. You shake your head, instantly embracing him with a hug. “It’s not a fail. I’m so happy to see you.” Even though you pretty much talked on the phone with Jungkook everyday, it felt like you hadn’t seen him in weeks.

Jungkook’s tattooed arms wrap around your waist, returning your gentle embrace. “I’m happy to see you too, angel. What’re you doing home so early though? I thought you weren’t off till 8:00?”

You bit down on your bottom lip. You wanted to start crying right there just thinking about what almost happened to you today. You hadn’t told him about your trip to Gongdan yesterday because you didn’t want him to worry, but now you felt as though he deserved to know this time. “I got attacked today.” You take a step back, showing him your torn shirt. Jungkook looks down, dumbfounded at how he hadn’t clocked your ripped shirt when you first walked in.

“By who?!” He shouts. “If it was Yoongi and his gang I swear to god–”

You shush Jungkook, looking around to make sure none of your neighbors were in the hallway eavesdropping. “Let’s talk about this inside, okay?” The brunette is pissed, but he nods, awaiting for you to open your apartment door. He grabs the flowers from the floor as you dig through your purse for your key. ‘I really need to get a keychain for this thing," you thought, finally finding the piece of metal in your bag.

You open the door, and Jungkook wastes no time storming in. He places the flowers on your kitchen table, pulling out a chair for you to sit and explain yourself. Even though he was angry he still focused on your wellbeing. You close the door, unsure if you really wanted to recite the situation. Too late to change your mind now though.

You shuffle to the seat that Jungkook pulled out for you, plopping down. “So? Was it Yoongi’s doing?”

How do you even begin to explain all of this? Yes, but not really? While Yoongi was the reason you ended up in Gongdan, he isn’t the one that attacked you. But he has taken a weird interest in you ever since the Makoto showdown between you and his trusty stooge. If you told Jungkook that though, he'd just spend every moment trying to protect you and probably do something unnecessary to get himself hurt. You didn’t want that.

So, maybe it was best to embellish the truth a bit and leave Yoongi out of it.

“I had a delivery in Gongdan today. Jimin was out sick, and I was the only one that could deliver it. A group of guys attacked me on my way back to the restaurant.” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. “You had a delivery at the devil’s playground and you took it? What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I had to do my job. I had no choice, Kookie. Mr. Kim wasn’t letting me out of it. Believe me, I tried.” The brunette scoffed, redirecting his anger to Mr. Kim. “I should go down there and kick that old man’s ass,” He muttered. Jungkook was never too fond of Mr. Kim. He thought the old man could be a bit misogynistic.

“Did they hurt you?” His voice is now more tender. You shook your head. “No. I’m fine,” You assure him. “The only thing that got hurt is my precious shirt.” You laugh a bit, trying to lighten the mood. “Did they just let you go? How’d you get free?” He pressed on.

“Umm…” you trail off, your thoughts once again wandering to the raven haired man.

“So Wonder Woman, you ready to accept that ride today?”

“They got scared off by someone that happened to be walking by. Lucky me, huh?”

Jungkook sighs smoothly, crouching down in front of your chair. He takes your hands in his, interlocking your fingers. “I’m glad you’re okay, y/n. I hate to know you experienced that and I wasn’t there.” He frowns, leering down at your hands. “Jungkook, you’re not gonna be able to be there for everything, and that’s okay. You’re here now, when I need you the most.”

Jungkook looks up at you. “And I’ll stay here.”

“Please remind me to stop letting you pick out movies. You always pick the cheesiest ones.” Jungkook grimaced as you two reached the end of your movie. You wiped stray tears from your eyes, glaring over at your soon-to-be boyfriend. “The Princess Diaries is a classic. I love it.” Jungkook snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, well next time I’m picking the movie. Your selection sucks.”

You gasp, taking a pillow from the other end of the couch. “Take that back.” You cock the pillow, ready to deliver a blow. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry… that you’re ass at picking movies.” You swing the pillow down on him, and his hands go up in self defense as he laughs, his back landing on the couch cushions to better protect his face. You take this advantage to straddle the brunette’s waist, continuing your attack until he ultimately surrenders. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You finally toss the pillow back down to the end of the couch, a victory smirk plastered on your face. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

“Hard not to when I’m being attacked by a pillow.” He looks up at you, still straddling his waist. Jungkook’s hands slowly roam up your legs, stopping to grip your hips. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Your cheeks heated up with the compliment, and you felt a sudden wave of warmth between your legs that made you anxious. This was it. There was no better time than this to lose your virginity to Jungkook.

You lean forward, pressing your lips to his pierced ones, the metal was cold against you; Jungkook didn’t hold back, or hesitate the moment your lips were against his. Your mouths moved in sync, but sloppily at the same time as though you both wanted it real bad– and you did. Jungkook’s hands moved from your hips, reaching back to cup your ass in his hands, giving your cheeks a squeeze.

You moaned softly into his mouth, rolling your hips over the rough fabric of his jeans until you felt his cock harden underneath you. Jungkook made sure to assist you, his hands pressing you down harder against his confined length. Your panties were soaked, and your mind was in a daze. You were sure that you had dampened his jeans by now. “Fuck, Y/n…” he muttered in between kisses. “We have to stop before I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t stop, I want this.” You whine, rolling your hips faster. Jungkook moans, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, I can’t.” He grabs your hips, forcing you to stop. You take the hint, but you can’t help the pang in your chest. Was there something wrong with you? You didn’t get it. What was he waiting for? You climb off of him, taking your place back on the couch.

It’s silent as Jungkook sits up on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. “Y/n…”

“Save it,” You cut him short. “You don’t want to have sex with me, I get it.” Jungkook shakes his head. “That’s not true. I do.” He argued. You scoff, rolling your eyes. “So then what’s the problem? I’m always practically giving signals that I’m ready and you’re holding back. You have never done that with any girl you’ve dated before me.”

“You’re not any girl I’ve dated before you.”

“Right, I’m y/n, the girl that’s been your best friend for years and the truth is that’s probably all you see me as.” Jungkook says nothing, he doesn’t even bother to argue because that’s just something he hates doing with you. “I uh… I should go.”

“Then go.” You snapped. Jungkook nods, standing up from the couch. As he walks to the front door, he looks back at you. You don’t look his way, you just continue to stare forward. “You’re not any girl I’ve dated before you.” He repeats; those are his final words before he opens the door and leaves.

Your eyes brim with tears as you finally turn, looking towards the table where Jungkook’s bouquet of flowers sat.

“Well well well, look who made a full recovery today.” You eye Jimin taking orders as you walk into Makoto. Jimin smiles at you, happy to see you in what felt like forever since you two worked together. “Y/n, it’s good to see you too.” He greets. You cross your arms, not in a greeting mood. “I have a bone to pick with you once you’re done here.” You say, walking back to the kitchen to clock in.

“Y/n, good afternoon. How are you feeling today?” Mr. Kim asks you as you grab an apron from the hook, tying the black fabric around your waist. “It’s a Monday, how am I supposed to be feeling?” You speak dreadfully. You barely got any sleep after what happened last night with Jungkook, and now you were at work. Jungkook hadn’t even called or texted you. Not that you wanted him to right now.

“Well, I meant everything that happened yesterday, how are you feeling today?” He reiterates. You grab a time card, swiping it through the clock. “I’m fine, Mr. Kim.” You walk past him, taking a notepad and pen from the cup holder. Jimin walks back into the kitchen, his face suddenly pale like he was ready to puke. Maybe he was sick.

“Hey, um, there’s someone out there at table three that’s requesting for you to take their order.” He says, scratching the back of his neck. You raise a skeptical brow. ‘Requesting me? Could it be Jungkook?’ You thought. Maybe he wanted to talk in person instead of over the phone. You didn’t see why he couldn’t have waited until your shift was over and come to your apartment, but you didn’t argue with the gesture.

“Okay…?” You walk out of the kitchen towards the dining area. As you scope out table three, you don’t see Jungkook, but in fact, Yoongi, Joon, and two other guys you don’t know. That’s why Jimin looked so sickly. You shake your head, sauntering over to their table. “What’re you doing here? Was yesterday not enough?” You snap at Yoongi.

“Nice to see you too,” the raven laughs, leaning back in his chair. “Yesterday is the reason I’m here in person, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you getting your pretty self into any more trouble in my hood.” He smirked. “You remember my boy Joon, don’t you?”

“Wonder Woman, it’s good to see you again.” You glare at Joon, rolling your eyes. You didn’t have time for this. Yoongi was the last person you cared to see right now, and you definitely never wanted to see Nam-joon again. “So are you here to order something or are you here to be the bane of my existence?”

“Depends… are you on the menu?” He bites his bottom lip, looking you up and down. Joon, and Yoongi’s other two minions snicker and you’ve decided you’ve had enough of this pig fest. “Okay, goodbye.” You turn to head back to the kitchen, but Yoongi stops you by grabbing your wrist. “I’m just joking around, sweetheart. I’m here to ask you something.” You pull your wrist from his grip, turning back to face him. “Ask me what?”

“Well, I’m having this kickback at my place tonight. I want you to slide through.” You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion. “What on earth would make you think I’d dare to step foot into Gongdan again? And what makes you think I’d go to your shifty ass warehouse?”

“Well, I just thought after my heroism the other day you would want to thank me more properly.” You scoffed. Mina was right. He was expecting some kind of sexual favor from you. “I knew it. You only helped because you thought you could use me later on. I should’ve expected that from someone like you.” You leave their table, making your way back towards the kitchen, but this time Yoongi stands up from his seat to follow you.

“Princess,” He stops you again, his hand grazing your waist, but he doesn’t fully touch you in a manner that came across as though he was trying to respect your boundaries–for once. He steps in front of you, blocking your way to the kitchen. “It’s not like that. I helped you because I wanted to.”

“Is that so? Because it truly didn’t seem like it just a second ago.” You snarled, crossing your arms. The raven makes a “tsk” sound before continuing on. “Sweetheart, if that’s all I wanted from you then I would’ve made you give it to me right there in the alleyway. Regardless of what happened,” His face was stone cold serious. He meant that. You stood silent, not knowing what to say next.

“Listen… sometimes I have these kickbacks, and they’re a vibe, but it would be better if I saw your pretty face there.” His voice is soft, so soft that you didn’t think someone like Yoongi could produce such a tone. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to take a bus through Gongdan at night.”

“So don’t. I’ll pick you up.”

You sigh, slowly feeling yourself ready to cave in and you didn’t know why. You literally could not stand this man. He was a stalker for fuck sakes. A criminal. And yet… here you were ready to accept his invitation because of one good gesture, and a sudden softness to his voice. Yoongi’s eyes search for yours until they lock, a smile forming his face. For a moment as you're looking into the raven’s eyes you begin to question is he really the monster he makes people believe? Or is that all for looks?

“Hey, can we get the check please?” A customer calls out. Your eyes snap away from Yoongi’s. You had almost forgotten you were at work. “Look, I have to get back to work. I’ll… I’ll let you know.” You take your notepad, writing down your phone number. As you rip the paper from the pad, you actually begin to question your sanity. You hand the paper to Yoongi, his lips tilting in a sly smirk as he takes it.

“I look forward to hearing from you, princess.”

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bluenotes75 · 10 months

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Trust pt.2

Miles Morales ! 42 x Fem ! Reader x Miles Morales ! 1610

wc : 5,9k Warnings : angst, possessiveness, all characters are around 19 years old, cheating, no proofread, what I could remember from my spanish class 3 years ago, eventual love triangle ?, dramaaaa. pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.3 (coming soon)

Sorry, it took so long, the chapter just kept getting longer. Anyways, hope you enjoy <3

You sighed as you closed the door of the store. It was already past midnight and you had just finished a long shift. Oddly, the store had been particularly active today and you couldn't catch any break. Now you sought one simple thing. To find the comfort of your bed.

You removed the key from the lock and frowned as a drop of water touched your skin. It was raining.

Wonderful.

You had no umbrella with you as you didn't anticipate the night to get rainy. Regretting your choice of clothes, you pressed your bag on top of your head to protect yourself from the rain. Your home was a bit far from the cornerstone you worked at and you knew you had to hurry up because the streets were not safe at night.

As you headed toward your apartment, your thought deviated toward him.

It had been one month. Four weeks since everything fell apart.

At least, to you.

Twenty-eight days since you broke up with Miles Morales. Six hundred and seventy-two hours since he betrayed you and you liked to think that you had moved on. It was the easiest way to go through your days.

And if your heart ached each time you found his clothes in your closet or if you woke up in the middle of the night to noises on your window thinking it was him, you denied it.

The pain that you felt that night was unmatched. It was still fresh, rooted deep in your memories. But with time, you discovered it was nothing next to the pain of leaving without Miles. He wasn't there physically, yet he occupied each ounce of your mind.

Contrary to what you could believe, Miles wasn't any better. You were on his mind, 24/7.

He regretted. He regretted considerably. He had made the worst mistake of his life and just like that, you slipped through his fingers.

You were his world. His universe. He missed your presence. He missed holding you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your skin, tickling the curve of your hip, caressing the softness of your skin with his lips and seeing the deepness of your loving gaze when you looked up at him. He missed everything about you and he refused to let you go.

And this became the hardest part for you. Miles had tried to get you back.

Countless time.

Because even if your mind was screaming no, your heart was still weak for the boy. And he knew it.

He hadn't stopped texting you in the weeks following your break up. He had asked for forgiveness so many times you couldn't even count it. When you blocked him on every social media, he directly came to your house. He would knock on your window at late hours like he always did.

You would leave him outside.

After some time, he finally decided to give you some space but you could still feel his presence from afar. You could feel his stare on your back sometimes as you came back from work. You knew he was still making sure you were safe. Sometimes, you find to notes from him on your window.

You didn't read them.

You had thought of taking him back. On your lowest nights, you had thought that maybe it was for the best. You felt nothing without him. Even if the relationship brought your more strain than anything else, it was at least something. It was toxic but addicting. It made you cry at night but it made you feel high on other days. The only thing stopping you from going back was that little doubt ticking in the back of your brain.

What if he did it again?

But if there was one thing you knew, is that you were faithful to yourself. You were too afraid to put yourself through that process again if he was to mess up again. He had already broken you once, had left you miserable and you had suffered too much to trust him again.

So with time, you learned to let go. You had finally gotten used to living without him. Each day you were forgetting him more and more and you felt like yourself once again. And while your heart was still tied to his in a way, you knew you could live peacefully now.

You were dragged out of your thoughts by a noise behind you, yet you didn't give it a second thought. However, when you heard again, this time followed by irregular steps against the wet concrete, you frowned.

You peeked behind your shoulder and noticed a man, both taller and broader, dressed in a black hoodie. You couldn't see his face.

Your heartbeat picked up.

You accelerated, hoping that you were worrying for nothing, but that hope was soon crushed when the steps also became faster. Before you could think of a way to get yourself out of this situation, a hand covered your mouth and you were dragged into an alley.

It was dark and you could barely see anything as you fought back against the broad body that manhandled you against the wall.

''What pretty girl like you doing outside at such an hour.''

He whispered, his breath reeking of booze. He pressed his body against yours and travelled his hands on your back. Your cheeks pressed hard against the rugged brick wall, you felt tears burn the brim of your eyes as you realized what was about to happen.

''N-no! Please don't''

''Shut up bitch, you want it. You wouldn't be walking alone at such hours if not,'' he laughed in your ears.

''Nah, I think her no was clear enough.''

You jerked at the new voice and soon, the hands holding you against the wall disappeared. You turned around panicked, gasping as the man who was once all over you, now laying on the ground, holding his bruised cheek. Another guy dressed in a red suit stood over him.

''I hate assholes like you-'' the newcomer shot a string of web to tie up the man against the wall ? ''who think they can do whatever they want.''

You rubbed your eyes to make sure you saw well. Web ?

''Don't touch women again, got it ?''

The man nodded quickly, eyes widened in fear before the guy in red sent another punch, knocking him out for good.

You stood there, back against the wall, frozen. You had never heard of a guy in red playing the hero in Brooklyn.

New-york was filled with villains. You just hoped to fall on the nicest one.

As if reading your thoughts, the guy in red walked toward you.

''Hey, are you fine? I'm sorry this happened !''

He stopped in his track when you flinched.

''Look, I don't want you any harm,'' he raised his arms in the air as proof. ''Can I...come closer ?''

You nodded slowly, still speechless, and he did so. From closer, he was towering over you and you had to raise your head to properly look at him.

Just like with your ex.

You frowned, feeling stupid for thinking of the guy in such a situation and finally spoke.

''Thank you."

You watched as he smiled through his mask.

''Of course,'' he raised his hand before stopping abruptly. ''Can I touch you ?''

You nodded and he held your chin, angling it to the side and checking your cheek.

''Good he didn't hurt you,'' he then took in your appearance. You were completely wet because of the rain and you had started shivering. He removed the coat he was wearing and wrapped it around your shoulders. ''Here.''

A million thoughts crossed your mind, yet you only cared about one.

The coat smelled like Miles.

You shook your head, feeling stupid again. Were you so obsessed that you imagined your ex everywhere now? You really needed some sleep.

But you didn't want to walk home alone.

''I'll bring you home,'' the boy announced before wrapping his arms around your hips. ''Hold onto me tight.''

You did as he said, confused about why but soon understood when he brought you both in the air.

''Oh god !''

You closed your eyes not daring to look down.

''I know,'' he laughed near your ear and you couldn't ignore the shivers that crossed your body at the familiarity of his voice.

In less than ten minutes, you were home after telling him the way.

''Thank you for this,'' you smiled shyly and handed him back his coat.

''Of course! ''

You looked at him and you just couldn't get rid of this picture of Miles.

''Who are you ?''

You were shocked at your own question, the word escaping your mouth before you could stop yourself.

''Oh, I'm Spiderman," the guy said and you could hear the proudness in his voice.

''No, like who are you really?'' You slid your hands down his shoulders and his arms. It was a posture you knew too well. You could recognize that body in a million. ''Miles ?''

''W-what''

You grabbed the end of his mask and to your surprise, he didn't stop you. You raised it until it revealed his face.

A gasp escaped you as you saw Miles but....he didn't have braids. You studied him carefully. Same lips, same nose, same cheekbones, you almost got fooled. But when you made eye contact with him, you saw it.

It wasn't your ex.

His eyes weren't the same. Your ex had this hardened stare. A gaze built by the wall he created around himself. People said eyes were the mirror of the soul but you couldn't read anything through them.

This guy in front however had....innocence painted all over his eyes. His stare was soft, warm and solacing.

''You aren't Miles, who are you ?''

The guy took a step forward, hope in his eyes. You stepped back.

''You know Miles Morales ?''

You shook your head freaked out by the situation and took another step back.

''Get out.''

The taller widened his eyes.

''No, no please listen to me first.''

Maybe it was his eyes, maybe it was because he looked like Miles, you didn't know. But you didn't have the heart to chase him away one more time.

''You have five minutes.''

"So you're telling me that you are a hero from another earth that is exactly like mine and you saved people you weren't supposed to so a hoard of spidermans is following you and you need to go back to your earth to save your dad."

Miles nodded eagerly.

"I know it sounds crazy but yeah…that's pretty much it.''

''Damn,'' you breathed, letting the information sink in. ''And you need me for..?''

''To find a way back home.''

The boy stared at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. You bit the inside of your cheek before shaking your head.

''Look, I don't think I can help you with that.''

His face dropped and he clasped your smaller hands in his calloused ones.

''Nonono, please! You are the only one I could find and you seem to already know Miles Morales from here. You know how I need to act to stay unnoticed.''

You thought about his words. It made sense, but you didn't want to get involved in all that mess.

"I really don't know."

"Please !"

You wondered for a few more seconds. How where you supposed to refuse when he was looking at you pleadingly?

''Alright.''

His facial features broke into a grin and he pulled on your arm, making you collide against his chest.

''Thank you !''

You could only widen your eyes as you felt his arms tighten around you. You hadn't expected this sudden affection. Dumbstruck, you failed to return the gesture until he froze and leaned back, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

''Sorry, I got too excited…'' he looked away, your stare becoming too intense for him.

You stayed silent for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. The Miles you knew was so cold so this new Miles with such a…bubbly personality was interesting.

You couldn't help but think it was sweet…and very cute.

''It's fine.''

He seemed satisfied with your reaction as he joined you before your laughers died down.

''Uh, I might have sum else to ask.''

You hummed.

''I kinda need a place to stay.''

Miles towered over you, holding bedsheets, while you hugged a pillow to your chest.

''So how are we going to do this ?''

You two made eye contact before glancing at the bed again. Suddenly, the boy dropped the fabric on the floor and rose his hand next to his chest.

''I'll sleep on the ground, it's fin-''

''no, you don-''

''Yes, I do. I'm the guy and the guest, so sleep on the bed and I'll-''

''Just lay down, I don't mind.''

You slid under the covers not waiting for his reaction and soon, you heard the mattress dip toward his side. He was careful to let some space between you.

You rose the fabric over both of your bodies and sighed. This was a long day and you were honey tired. You tried to get some sleep but you could feel starring eyes burning your skin.

''What is it ?'' you whispered with your eyes still closed.

You heard the rub of covers before Miles cleared his throat.

''Nothing, nothing.''

Then the mattress bent again and you assumed he turned the other way.

''Oh, by the way. My mom can't know you are here. So you know…be discreet.''

You didn't want to have to explain to her what Miles, your ex - even if it's not really him - was doing in your room at such an hour.

''Don,t worry, I'm discreet.''

The next afternoon, you found yourself in the library. It was far from your apartment and your school, which reduced the chance of running into an unrequired acquaintance.

''Look at this, doesn't it look interesting ?''

You extended a book about something called 'The Super-Collider'.

''That's basically a particle collider right ?'' You added as Miles grabbed the heavy textbook.

The taller boy nodded, peeking at the back cover.

''Yes, it uses electromagnetic fields to speed up charged particles. And-

''Eventually, pull or join different objects coming from different dimensions,'' you finished, scratching your chin as you wondered about something. You didn't notice Miles' amazed expression.

''You know what it is ?''

You looked at him as if he was crazy.

''Of course, didn't you watch The Flash ?''

His excitation vanished and you received silence as an answer.

''I'm joking, I'm just really interested in physics,'' you said pivoting back to the bookshelf and searching for another work that could be useful.

''Oh...I didn't know that. I wanna study in that field later.''

Your widened eyes shifted back to him.

''What, you literally hate phys-'' you stopped as remembered who you were with and you shook your head embarrassed. ''Nevermind.....It's nice to have someone who likes it like me.''

You couldn't help the thrill that invaded you. Your ex would always joke about your interests in physics and eventually, you stopped talking about it. So seeing this new Miles show interest brought a certain warm feeling to your stomach. You didn't know what it was, but the longer you were with the boy, the more interesting you found him. You had found a special chemistry with him and it's like you two had always been friends.

You liked that sensation.

''I was wondering, are particle accelerators the reason why you are here ?"

The taller twisted his mouth to the side.

''Uh...not really? It's part of the reason though. Some type of butterfly effect,'' he finished as you opened another book. You simply hummed not pushing too much on the object. It didn't look like he wanted to talk much about it.

''I think we have enough for now. Let's buy them !''

You gazed at the raindrops interrupting the peaceful reflection of your face on the blurry window. It was particularly cold today, gray clouds snatching the sunrays from the city while its people ran down the streets to cover themselves from the water. To you, the scenery was simply gloomy.

A usual rainy day in Brooklyn.

You jumped as the doorbell of the store rang, pulling you out of your train of thought. You relaxed after realizing it was only a client. You were only 3 in the shop. You being the cashier, the man who had just crossed the door and Miles hanging upside down next to you while playing a ball.

''What's up with you? You've been daydreaming since morning.''

It had been 3 weeks since this Miles arrived from Earth 1610 and you had nearly spent all of your time with him.

Well, it's not as if you had a choice since he lived in your apartment, but it didn't change the you two had gotten extremely close. You were hanging out every day. One time at the coffee shop and another time watching a movie while trying hairstyles on his hair. Just like yesterday.

You couldn't deny your attachment that had grown for him. Hell, just thinking about him made your heart flutter and you would find yourself stuck with a stupid grin on your lips.

At first, you kept comparing him with your ex. His accent, his gesture, what he liked and what he disliked. He didn't speak as much Spanish, he wasn't as mysterious and cold. But as time passed, you found yourself more and more drawn by this new Miles. He was more expressive, affectionate, supportive and careful with you. He knew how to make you laugh no matter the situation and you two shared multiple interests.

You weren't oblivious. You quickly understood that the boy was slowly stealing your heart. But that doesn't mean you were ready for it.

You were used to feeling love with pain. To push and pull kind of relationship. To toxic and aggressive feelings. To spend the night worrying about your lover and only to find him bleeding the next day. To cry alone at night then drown your sadness in your boyfriend's arms for a few minutes before you had to separate again to go to school.

But with Mile Morales, everything was different. It was sweet, warm and solacing. He was always next to you at night and he was careful with you in daylight. You felt protected and you weren't sleeping next to a criminal anymore.

This was so different, but you liked it.

''I just didn't get much sleep last night.''

The taller jumped back to his feet before getting closer to you. He looked at your face carefully, worry painted all over his own features.

''I shouldn't have kept you up all night, sorry.''

You looked up at him with a chuckle before flicking his forehead softly.

''No, it was funny. You looked really cute with those coloured rubber bands in those cornrows I did,'' you teased, facing him.

He frowned before a tiny pout took over his mouth. It was nearly imperceptible but it was there.

''I looked like a kid. How am I supposed to be big and scary with that in my hair.''

You burst out laughing, the memory from last night coming back to you. You had told him you would braid his hair since he wanted to try something new but he ended up removing them because 'they were too tight, and his scalp was too soft for all that'. You knew he just wanted to remove the rubber bands.

''I'm still mad at you for destrpying my beautiful work.''

He smirked getting closer, reducing the space between you two.

''Don't be upset tesoro, what will I do if you are mad at me ?''

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, like it had done for the past weeks, and you looked away, to hide your shy smile. However, before you could answer, you heard a gun cocking right in front of you.

You slowly looked up, to find a riffle pointed right to your face. Your heart dropped as you failed to understand whatever the client from earlier was screaming.

''Open the cash register and gimme the bills,'' when he noticed your lack of reaction, he brought the gun closer to your forehead. ''Hurry the fuck up !''

However, before the stranger could try anything else, the gun was knocked out of his hands and his arms were joined together by web.

Everything passed in a flash and Miles quickly neutralize him and called the police. And if he gave a few unnecessary punches to the man, as he was already tied up, you didn't mention it. It was Miles' way to get back at the man and make him regret pointing his gun at you.

Before you could even realize what happened, the boy was in front of you, holding you tight by the elbow, checking up on you for the second time in less than 10 minutes.

''How are you feeling,'' he whispered, his low voice vibrating in your ear.

''G-good.''

Your voice left you like a whisper, still shaken by the event.

You had encountered multiple... ominous situations in this city. But being held at gunpoint and knowing your life was in the hands of a stranger was different. You realized how lucky you were to have Miles at your side at this exact moment and your eyes watered.

The boy read right through the facade you were trying to keep up, as he noticed your shivering and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, dragging you against himself.

''Come here precious.''

You tightened your hands around the low of his back, losing yourself in the warmness and the comfort of his embrace. You felt safe and the panic was slowly soothed away from you.

''Feeling better ?''

You nodded, slowly, face still hidden nestled in the crook of his neck.

''How come there's so much crime in this city,'' he sighed, caressing the back of your neck to bring you more comfort.

''We don't have Spiderman here, you know,'' you muttered, finally finding the energy to spill some words.

Your words were muffled by his skin and you felt him shiver at the sensation of your lips against his neck.

''Right.''

You expected him to laugh at your words so you looked up at him, frown plastered on your face.

''Are you mad ?''

His expression softened when he noticed you scowl and he shook his head.

''No,'' he rested his chin on top of your head. ''I just don't like the idea of you living all these years without anyone to protect you.''

You ignored the butterflies that invaded your stomach as his sentence, your lips growing into a grin against the crook of his neck.

''I'm not a damsel in distress.''

Miles only hummed, not letting go of you.

''Yeah, if you say so, preciosa.''

Everything was going perfectly. You and Miles were slowly finding more clues on how to send him back to Earth 1610 and by then, old Miles was already far in your memory.

You couldn't but wonder how unusual that was. You weren't used to just living peacefully. There was always something going on.

And you weren't wrong to feel so suspicious.

You were walking down the street as it was getting darker outside.

Again.

You had to stay a few more hours at school to finish a group project and you hadn't realized how much time had passed. You cursed under your breath, remembering what happened the last time you found yourself walking for such an hour outside.

Not wanting to get in such a situation again, you accelerated until you arrived on the street where you live. You sighed, relieved, but before you could take your keys, a large hand caught your elbow, dragging you into the alley behind your apartment. You were pinned against the bricked wall and clenched your eyes shut, groaning at the impact.

What's with the people of this city and walls? Damn.

However, when you glanced at whoever seized you so brutally, your heart sank. You had completely forgotten about him and you had never expected him to come back.

''Miles.''

Your ex smirked staring up and down at your silhouette before licking his lips. A shiver travelled down your body at his action.

''Happy to see me mami ?''

You two made eye contact and you were hauled. His gaze was still as piercing as you remembered and it brought back unwanted memories. However, you suddenly blinked, waking up from your stupor and averted your eyes from the imposing male. Your expression turned sour and you tried to push him away, unsuccessfully.

''Leave me alone, Morales.''

He chuckled, taking a step forward to reduce the space between both of your bodies.

''So that's what we are doing now ?''

You kept your lips sealed and turned your head to the side as an answer. However, his fingers slid behind your neck, using his thumb to shift your head back to him.

''Look at me when I talk to you.''

''What do you want ?''

He rose his eyebrow at the dryness of your tone, still not used to such an attitude from you.

''I don't need a reason to see yah princesa.''

''I don't have time for this, move.''

Miles clenched his jaw, his eyes hardening at your words.

''Watch your tone.''

''Or what ?'' you raised your eyebrow at him with a bored expression. Two months ago, you would have never talked to him like that. But right now, you couldn't care less. You wanted to go home, take a shower and cuddle with your Miles. You were too tired for all that.

Your ex-boyfriend visibly took a deep breath and closed his eyes to calm himself down. You could see the frustration growing in him. But you didn't expect what he would say next.

''Who's that guy you've been hanging out with lately ?''

You froze at the question.

''What the- have you been following me ?''

''I asked you a question,'' Miles repeated louder this time.

''It's none of your business.''

''I'm being nice and you don't wanna try me. I don't like you talking to other guys and you know that.''

You scoffed at his nerve. Why was he acting like you were his or something?

''What part don't you understand in 'we're done' ?''

He took a deep breath and pinched his nose.

''Look, I fucked up mami. Lo sé and I hate myself for it. But I let you have some space for two months already, te necesito.''

''Miles, I don't love you anymore.''

He froze for a second but you could see him gulp slowly.

''I know you, stop playing hard to get.''

You rested your hand against your forehead tired of this situation already.

''Are you being serious ?'' he asked again in disbelief.

But instead of answering, you pushed him back and this time, he didn't resist.

''I'm leaving.''

''Where do you think you are going ?''

''Hopefully to my new boyfriend,'' you answered. Being honest was probably the only way to force him away from you.

''You don't want to do this,'' he said darkly. He clenched his jaw and rubbed his hand on his chin. You had never seen him so mad. ''I'm warning you.''

You shook your head with a sigh before ignoring him and entering your apartment. You knew he was saying empty words. Your ex would never dare to hurt you directly. He could cheat, and lie but never harm you intentionally.

That's what you thought at least.

Arriving in your room, you find your new Miles sitting at your desk, sketching something on a sheet.

''Preciosa, you are finally here.''

You nodded with a tired smile.

''You're not sleeping yet ?''

He shook his head, leaning back on the chair and spreading his leg to be more comfortable. ''Nah, was waiting for you."

You raised an eyebrow at his position before throwing a shoe at him that he easily caught with one hand.

''Stop the manspreading in my room.''

He laughed before telling you to come closer. You obeyed and your eyes fell on the drawing he was making.

It was you.

And it was you in a way you had never seen before. You looked...magnificent.

Your breath got stuck in your throat and couldn't help but wonder if that's how the boy saw you.

All the stress you got from meeting your ex evaporated from your body as you sat on Miles' thighs and one of his hands rested on yours.

''It's beautiful.''

He hummed. ''When the muse is already gorgeous, it makes everything easier.''

Your heart jumped at the compliment and you pressed your head against his, running your thumb down his cheek as he kept drawing.

''Careful, you'll make my fro flat,'' the boy muttered, still focused on his sketch.

''I'll brush it out for you later,'' you giggled, continuing your ministration on his face.

A few more seconds passed and only the soft sound of a pencil running on paper filled the silence surrounding you. All until the boy broke the ice.

''I've always wanted to ask but...what's your relationship with Miles from here ?''

You gulped at this sudden question. Did he saw...what happened outside?

''Why you wanna know that ?''

Noticing your defensive reaction, he shook his head softly.

''Hey, I'm not forcing you to tell me, I was just wondering since you know...he never tried to contact you since I arrived. I kind of assumed you two were close since you recognized me in my suit. ''

You relaxed at his explanation.

''Oh, uh we were friends, but we had an argument and haven't really talked since.''

You didn't want to think about the guy anymore and ruin this wonderful moment. You hoped your Miles wouldn't mind the white lie you had just spitted out.

Hopefully, the taller didn't seem to question you more and quickly changed the conversation.

It had been two weeks since your encounter with your ex and everything was going better than ever. Your mom had just left for a trip and the house was left to you and Miles. You woke up to the sound of the plate coming from the kitchen.

Loud sounds.

When you arrived in the living room, you found Miles throwing water in a pan which contained burning eggs. Your mouth dropped.

''What are you doing ?''

He jumped at the sound of your voice before placing his hand on his chest right over his heart.

''Shit, don't scare me like that.'' He then looked at the mess he had created and scratched the back of his neck. ''Uh...I was trying to make breakfast.''

You looked at him, still devoid of words before bursting out laughing.

''And you managed to burn eggs? How do you even burn eggs ?''

You shook your head taking the pan out of his and putting it in the sink.

''What I am going to do with your Miles.''

He pouted following closely behind you like a lost puppy.

''It's the meaning that matters ?''

You glared at him before seeing the opened bag of flour next to you. You smirked before grabbing some and throwing it in his face.

''Hey !''

He retaliated by taking the closest thing to him, which was a raw egg and throwing it on your shirt.

A gasp was heard.

''You did not just do that.''

''Oh, I did. ''

Soon, it turned into a food war, and your enjoyment could be heard by the mix of yells and laughers coming from the kitchen. Out of nowhere, Miles caught the back of your thighs and sat you on the table, before resting between your legs.

''Caught you.''

You laughed gaily, before getting closer to his face with a raised eyebrow.

''What do you want champion? A kiss as a price ?''

Yet, instead of joking back as you expected, the boy only gulped. That's when you noticed the small space separating both of your faces.

You liked your lips, anxious at his silence and his eyes followed your tongue before slowly travelling back to your nose and your eyelashes. He then closed his eye and shook his head to compose himself.

''The stuff you make me think, preciosa.''

Your mouth dried out at his words and you bit your lips.

''Like what ?''

''I can't say it.''

He averted his eyes from you once again but you stopped him before he could lean away.

''Then show me,'' you whispered.

He widened his eyes as his breath brushed against your lips. You saw as he tried to hold himself back but the intense burning in his eyes showed you that he wanted exactly what you wanted.

''Fuck it.''

He leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours and you automatically responded, sighing in delight.

Finally.

Your lips moved in synchronization and you felt euphoric. After a few seconds, he leaned away, his dark eyes travelling onto your face as if he wanted to capture to moment and carve it in his mind forever.

''You don't know how much I've wanted this."

''Me too,'' you whispered before your mouths found each other again.

You kissed and kissed. For how long, you didn't know. But all you knew is that it felt too good and it only felt like a few seconds before you separated again.

Miles licked his lips and let out a breath.

''That was -wow.''

''Yeah...'' you whispered trying to catch your breath, a bit dazzled by what had just happened.

''I made you this breathless already,'' he laughed before you punched him on the shoulder.

''Shut up !''

He laughed and wrapped his arms around your waist.

''I would love to kiss you more, but I think we need to clean this up first.''

You followed his eyes and noticed the mess you two had created.

''Yeah...''

He carried you back on the floor and you two got to work. Eventually, you realized you needed more cleaning products and you went to the store while he continued cleaning.

On the way, you kept touching your lower lip with a stupid smile stuck on your face. Miles made you feel all sorts of things and infatuation was the main one. You were already excited to get back home and continue the unfinished business.

The trip to get more cleaning products was fast and soon, you were back at your apartment.

But bliss goes away as fast as it comes, doesn't it ?

When you opened the door to your apartment to find that the living room was a mess.

But not the mess you had left in the kitchen.

A people having a physical fight kind of a mess. The armchair was knocked down, the table was broken and the pillows were ripped.

''Miles ?'' you yelled but received no answer.

Your heart raced as you rushed to look in the different rooms of your home, but there wasn't any living soul.

What the heck was happening?

When you arrived in your room, there was still no one.

But as you were going back to the kitchen, something caught your attention from the corner of your eye. It was a note on your window.

Exactly like the one your ex used to leave.

From afar, you could even recognize his writing. You snatched it and for the first time, you decided to read it.

Your heart sank at the words.

''I warned you.''

Don't hesitate to comment or reblog, I read everything <33

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reiding-writing · 3 months

Note

hiii, i hope you're well! i saw that you are taking requests for spencer and i really like your angst fics so i was wondering if you could write one with unrequited love?

preferably bau!reader who has feelings for him but he doesn't and she watches him get with someone else and everybody knows how she feels about him but he is oblivious, ending is up to you but i love me a sad ending heheh 😸

transgression [ s.r ]

You’re in love with Spencer Reid. He’s in love with somebody else.

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE MAEVE ARC, LOTS of misunderstanding, Spencer is kind of a bad friend, lots of arguing, major character death

spencer reid x gn!reader || ANGST || 8.2k || masterlist!!

a/n: sorry for the delay, but i did warn you it was gonna be long so- also i listened to ceilings on repeat whilst writing this so take that as you will 🫶

did i bend the maeve arc to my will for this fic? yes. yes i did.

taglist (slashed blogs couldn’t be tagged): @babyspiderling @marsxoxo2 @vytvyvy @hpstuff244444 @frostooo @ohmysw33 @radioactiveinvisible @devilsadvcte @the-local-pendeja @kakashis-formal-simp @robinswrld

You suppose you did it to yourself.

Spencer’s migraines had gotten increasingly worse over the last few months, and after a few consecutive days of hounding him, he’d finally decided to go and see a medical professional about it.

You’d expected him to come back with news about how his brain stem was too active from how hard he was working himself, or that he’d managed to raise his blood pressure to an unhealthy high from all the stress he was under.

Instead he’d told you that they couldn’t find anything physically wrong with him and that he’d been referred to a geneticist to check if the cause of his sudden mind-numbing aching was due to an underlying condition that might have been passed down from his mother.

He’d come back and forth to you for weeks about his phone calls with the doctor.

How she was helping him with his sleep deprivation.

How she was helping to manage his diet.

How she loved classic literature.

How she and him had spent four consecutive hours on the phone debating over the logistics of a novel they both enjoyed.

You could see the change happening before your eyes, and you weren’t the only one either.

“Pretty boy’s chipper this morning,” Morgan joins you at the kitchenette, his eyes following Spencer as he takes a seat at his desk with all of the enthusiasm of a golden retriever puppy who’d been let off his leash for the first time.

You hum with a nod, focusing your attention on the two cups of coffee you were making, heaping tablespoons of sugar into Spencer’s Doctor Who mug to satisfy his insatiable need for sweetness. “They’re reading a book together,”

“Really?” You respond to Morgan’s raised eyebrow with a short nod and another hum.

“Thoughts in Solitude by Thomas Merton, apparently she finds the religious analysis ‘fascinating’,” You can’t help the small contemptment that seeps into your tone as you reiterate what Spencer had told you to Morgan, and you can practically feel his pitiful gaze as he watches you make your coffee.

“I’ve heard of that book before from somewhere,”

“I tried to get him to read it a few months ago,” You take a sip of your coffee at the end of your sentence, barely able to taste it over the scolding water but not finding the mind to care.

You leave your conversation with Morgan at that, taking the two mugs in your hands and walking back into the bullpen, placing Spencer’s mug in front of him and walking around the cluster of desks to reach your own.

He’s sure he doesn’t need to verbalise it, but Morgan feels increasingly sorry for your situation, noting how you skirt past Spencer’s “thank you” without a response as you bury your head in your files.

he can’t imagine how much the fact that Spencer had seemingly formed a crush on his geneticist ripped you apart.

And the worst part? He’d never met her in person.

All scientific laws of attraction be damned, Spencer Reid had fallen in love with someone he’d never met in the span of three months, and you we’re resigning yourself to sit on the sidelines and watch as the man you had been in love with for six years find the happiness that you longed for with somebody else.

How you managed to keep up your facade you didn’t know.

You’d offered him change for the pay phone he’d call her from when he was running short. You’d let him rant to you about her opinions on a novel that you had failed to get him to read. You made excuses for him to leave the office early so that he could spend his time on the phone with her.

You were the one that sent him to the hospital and caused him to meet her in the first place.

He never hesitated to remind you of that fact, thanking you vicariously every time he relayed his conversations with the doctor back to you.

As the weeks progressed he stopped calling her that. She wasn’t ‘the doctor’ anymore. She was Maeve.

He didn’t call you by your first name and you’d known him for ten times longer that he’d known her. He didn’t even call Morgan by his first name and those two were practically brothers.

And that part was probably what hurt the most.

Maeve.

A name of Irish origin meaning ‘intoxicating’. How fitting.

Apparently the Irish goddess of love and desire was named Maeve. You could see the glimmer in Spencer’s eye that told you his Maeve was just as important as the mythological goddess he was describing.

His Maeve.

“So why haven’t you two actually gone on a date or anything?” You take a sip from the mug in your hands, swivelling your chair back and forth with your foot as a pivot. “You’ve been talking for what, four months now? Surely it’s about time you actually met her in person,”

“It’s complicated,” Spencer sighs as he collects the loose papers he was working on in a pile. He didn’t want to divulge Maeve’s issues without her permission.

“You’ve been saying that for the last six weeks Spencer,” You roll your eyes as you discard your half-empty mug on the table. “If I didn’t know any better i’d say you’re putting it off,”

Spencer shook his head adamantly at your suggestion. You couldn’t have been more wrong. He did want to meet her. Desperately. He’d wanted to meet her since the end of their first phone call. But he also wanted to keep her safe.

How do you meet up with somebody who’s hiding from a stalker without endangering them?

“I do want to meet her. It’s just- she’s dealing with something personal and it’s put a rift our plans, that’s all,”

“So it’s her not wanting to meet up with you then?” You raise an eyebrow at him over your desks.

“Look it’s- You don’t get it okay? It was a mutual understanding from both of us.” You can hear Spencer’s tone become more defensive as you spoke, and you raised both of your hands in surrender.

“Okay, i’m sorry for prying-” You ended your apology with a laugh, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted despite feeling your heart deflate in your chest at the way the friendliness his his eyes fizzled out the longer you looked at him.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer’s late to work this morning.

It’s 8:06 when he finally walks through the glass doors, the coffee you made him stone cold after sitting lamely on his desk for the better part of twenty minutes. He doesn’t so much as offer an apology as he picks up the mug and makes his way over to the kitchenette to pour the coffee down the sink.

You follow behind him in a mix of intrigue and a want to refill your own mug, swilling it out with some water as you watch Spencer load a coffee pod into the machine. “Phone call last longer than you expected?”

“Hm? Oh- yeah, we were discussing the literary analysis of Annabelle Lee,” Spencer’s demeanour seems to brighten immediately once he’s given an opportunity to discuss the details of his phone call with Maeve, although the beginning of his ramble is quickly cut off by the beeping of the coffee machine.

You wait patiently for his coffee to finish before you begin making yours, raising an eyebrow as Spencer pulls out a regular teaspoon instead of the usual tablespoon he’d incorrectly use to load his coffee with sugar.

Your intrigue only heightened when he pulled a carton of milk from the mini-fridge. Not even normal milk. Soy milk.

“Since when do you drink coffee like a normal person?”

His eyes flickered from his mug to your face as he tipped a single teaspoon of sugar into his drink before replacing the bag back where it came from. “It’s a part of my managed diet, Maeve thinks that my increased sugar intake might be one of the risk factors for my headaches,”

“Did she tell you to put soy milk in it too?” You don’t know why you have the urge to be petty, Spencer had long since needed to change his coffee drinking habits for the sake of decreasing his sugar intake and Maeve’s suggestions were beneficial for his health.

It was just the fact that it was her that ticked you off.

“She did actually, it provides the same amount of riboflavin as cow’s milk, which acts as a soothing agent whilst also helping constrict inflamed blood vessels, but without all of the excess fats in regular milk that might make my migraines more frequent, it’s genius really,”

He thought that her ideas were genius. Him. Mr ‘I have three PhDs and an IQ of 187’, thought someone else’s ideas were genius.

You’re sure that he already knew the benefits of milk alternatives, and yet he attributed the ‘revelation’ of what they could do to Maeve. Of course he did.

“When was the last time you made a decision for yourself?” The question comes out much harsher than you intend it to, and you can tell by the way Spencer furrows his eyebrows that he’s taken offence to it.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” No it didn’t. “I’m just a little surprised that someone as independent as you is so… willing to follow blind instructions,” Your attempt at saving yourself half-works, that wrinkle between his eyebrows disappears and you can see that the glimmer in his eyes is returning slowly.

“She’s a doctor, of course i’m going to follow her suggestions,”

You give him a soft nod as you pick up your mug from under the coffee machine. “Yeah, no, that makes sense, it’s just a little surprising is all,”

You don’t give him a chance to respond to you before you’re walking away from the kitchenette to retake a seat at your desk, fearing you might say something out of pocket if you continue the conversation any longer.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You were really pissed off now.

You’d arrived back in Quantico three days ago, and you were still piled up to your neck in paperwork.

Maybe you would’ve had it finished by now if Spencer would stop talking about the fact that he was “-finally going to meet Maeve in person,”.

You had half the mind to snap and tell him to just shut up, although by the saving grace of Morgan you thankfully didn’t have to.

“Reid, give their poor ears a break man,” Your thankful for Morgan in times like this. He knew you were knee-deep in your feelings for Spencer, and he knew that every time Spencer so much as spoke Maeve’s name it carved another hairline fracture in your heart.

You were close to shattering, and Morgan could tell.

“Oh- right, sorry,” Spencer offered you an awkward smile which you mirrored back at him.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it,” You shake your head in a polite dismissal of his apology before turning your head back down towards your files.

“I take it you’re nervous then?” Alex’s voice cut through the beginning of an awkward tension between the two of you as she entered to bullpen with a cup of coffee in hand.

“Well- I mean- you know…” Upon being unable to find a sufficient response, Spencer resorts to shrugging into his chair. “I just don’t want to ruin anything,”

“But aren’t you curious what she looks like?” Alex raises an eyebrow with concern like Spencer was he son going on his first ever date.

“it doesn’t matter what she looks like I mean- she’s already the most beautiful girl in the world to me it’s just-”

You don’t stick around to hear the rest of the conversation.

You sudden upheaval from your desk stops Spencer’s sentence as his eyes follow you across the bullpen and out of the glass doors, followed shortly by Morgan as he jogs after you.

“Hey- Wait up a minute-” Morgan catches your arm before you have a chance to get in the elevator, and as you turn your eyes towards him he can see the beginnings of tears forming in your eyes.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this..”

Morgan can do nothing more than pull your head into his shoulder and wrap his arms tightly around your back with a soft mutter of your name. “I know kid, I know…”

“He thinks she’s the most beautiful girl in the world,” You turn your head up from Morgan’s shoulder to meet his eyes, a single stray tear cascading down your cheek, illuminated under the florescent lights. “How am I supposed to compete with that..?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Incidentally, Spencer’s date with Maeve didn’t end up happening. Conflicting work schedules or something, you weren’t really listening.

Maybe all of your subconscious thoughts had leaked into reality and finally gave you momentary release from the crushing defeat of having Spencer go on a date with someone else.

Maybe it was them punishing you further by forcing you to sit through him rant about the book she’d left him at the front of the restaurant.

It didn’t help that you already had a headache that made it feel like your eye sockets were being kicked by an annoying kid sat behind you on an aeroplane, leaving a dull ache in it’s wake and making you just want to bury yourself in a hole and hibernate.

“And right at the back she wrote ’Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another’ it’s a quote from-”

“Thomas Merton. Yeah, I know.” You dig the knuckle of your left thumb into cavity of your eye socket over your closed eyelid, hoping to relieve some of the tension that’s lingering there and disrupting your thoughts.

“Thomas Merton’s ‘Love and Living’ specifically,” If Spencer noticed your discomfort he didn’t acknowledge it. “It’s a collection of his essays on the importance of love to live, so for her to have written it specifically knowing that I would read it means-”

“Reid.”

Your tone stops him from continuing any further, and he blinks at you with that sweet puppy-dog expression that would usually have you weak at the knees.

“No offence, but I don’t care about your over-the-phone girlfriend or the quote that she wrote in your book.” Your tone carried a harshness to it that Spencer wasn’t used to hearing from you. It was cold and detached and not like you at all.

“Are- you okay?”

“No, Reid, I’m not, and if you’d bothered to ask about my life every once in a while instead of using me like a human diary maybe you would’ve realised that already.”

You practically slam your file closed as you speak, pushing your chair out from your desk and leaving him sat in shock at your sudden change in attitude.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

After a bit of introspection, Spencer did realise that he hadn’t been treating you very fairly. He hadn’t asked you how your life had been in 3 months and 26 days. Four of those days he’d spent in damn near radio silence. He wasn’t sure he could take it much longer.

He missed you.

It was a bit ironic considering you sat directly opposite him for almost eight hours a day five days a week, but after you’d snapped at him last week, he truly realised just how much of his day he spent socialising with you, and just how much he missed talking to you.

So he decided that he was going to apologise.

And what better form of an apology for being dismissive of your feelings than putting a personal effort into something for you.

He walked into the office that morning with a leather bound copy of The Parasite by Arthur Conan Doyle stored cautiously in his messenger bag, pages scrawled with annotations from Spencer’s own reading of the novel that he hoped would be insightful to you as you read it yourself.

He’d remembered you saying how much you wanted to read the novel a few months ago, so he figured giving it to you as a personalised apology would show that he really did care about you and had listened to what you’d told him.

“Are you busy?” Spencer asks, though he already knows the answer to the question.

He’d been watching you from the other side of the room all morning, hoping for a moment or two of eye contact to see if there was a possibility of a conversation. A look from one to the other; even a smile would’ve been enough to make him feel validated and content. And he would have been willing to settle for that.

But you never looked up. Not even once.

"Mhm," You continue to not spare Spencer so much as glance as he speaks, turning over the page of the file you were working through.

“Can I take a minute of your time?” He tried to catch your gaze again, only to be met by your continued focus on your work. The last thing he wanted to do was disrupt your work routine, but he also knew that he needed to talk to you sooner rather than later.

“Please,” he said softly. “It’s important.”

You exhale heavily through your nose, exasperation written clearly in your expression as you leave your pen as a page marker to close the manilla folder on your desk. You turn your head upwards, raising an eyebrow and opening your hands to agitatedly indicate for him to continue.

You wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt being so openly cold towards Spencer, but you’d reached a breaking point, and you couldn’t bare sitting idly on the sidelines and letting him tear your heart to pieces anymore.

Spencer was relieved that you’d granted him your attention, but the look you directed towards him was enough to make him wince. You weren’t looking at him through a lens of indifference but rather cold, hard disappointment.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather the right words for what he had to say.

“I’m sorry,”

He seemed almost breathless as he spoke, like he’d just finished a tangent about something without taking the time to breathe. “I know that I’ve been spending too much time talking about Maeve and not enough paying attention to you.”

"You don’t say," You mutter the words under your breath to yourself, but your sure that Spencer heard you based on the way his eyebrows knit and the small gleam of hope in his eyes dwindles to barely a flicker.

He was trying not to react to your snide comment. Spencer knew that your tone didn’t leave any room to deny your meaning. He’d been selfish in talking exclusively about his relationship and hadn’t realised how it was affecting you.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer repeated. “You mean so much to me and I haven’t been showing that.”

"Thank you," Your thanks are polite but dismissive, like you were acknowledging his apology but choosing to not actually consider it as one, and it left Spencer with an expression of clear frustration.

He was used to being able to read your facial expressions and emotions in the past, but now you were just an unreadable wall of disappointment. He had hoped the apology would've been enough, but it was clear that you weren’t going to let him off that easily.

Time to pull out the last resort.

He bent over and fumbled with his bag for a few moments before pulling out the novel he’d brought with him face up.

“I uh… got you this,” He holds out the book towards you. “You said you wanted to read it right? So I uh.. annotated it for you to make it more enjoyable,”

You take the novel from him with a raised eyebrow as your eyes scan the cover, a clear flicker of confusion in your expression.

Spencer noticed your expression and furrowed his own brow in confusion. You didn't seem to recognise the book. In fact, the look on your face made him wonder whether you even knew this book existed at all before this moment.

“I hope you… like it,” he said nervously. “I was going off what you'd talked about before. You mentioned the book was a classic?”

"I… have never seen this book in my life,”

“B-But…” Spencer knew this was going to be awkward at some point, but he'd hoped not this early into the conversation. He could feel his cheeks burning from embarrassment, and it was only getting worse as he searched your face for an answer to this awkward situation.

“I… swear I heard you mention it once.”

You give him a short shake of your head and a pursed smile of awkward thanks as you put the book down on your desk.

Spencer looked away, embarrassed beyond belief. He hadn't even been able to deliver an apology properly, let alone make you feel special like he'd originally intended to.

How had he gotten it wrong? He had an eidetic memory for god’s sake.

When you put the book down on your desk, his eyes flicked back to the book. He'd spent almost 4 hours annotating and researching it and now it felt like all that effort had been wasted.

If you hadn’t mentioned it then who had? Someone must’ve. Someone he obviously equated with you to the point where he’d somehow managed to override his eidetic memory to mix the two of you up.

It takes him a few moments before you hear him whisper out a name under his breath, the palm of his hand dragging down the front of his face at the realisation.

"Maeve…"

The mention of her name had your eyes flickering away from the leather cover and right back to Spencer’s face, awkwardness completely rid of your features and replaced with a mix of negativity that Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to dig into.

"Are you serious?" Your words come out less questioningly and more accusatory, and you hold the book up so that he can see it once more, the gold embossing on the cover glinting under the overhead light as if to only taunt Spencer further for his mistake.

“You apologise for continuously disregarding me for your girlfriend by giving me a book that she showed interest in?”

You could see Spencer's face fall as your words sink in.

He hadn't even taken the time to think over what he was apologising with. It was almost as if his brain automatically just reverted back to his girlfriend's interests as an escape from dealing with his own guilt and sadness.

"Damn it," he whispered to himself. And in that moment he realised he'd just committed the biggest crime someone could make when trying to apologise.

“Like you constantly flaunting your relationship in my face verbally wasn’t bad enough.”

"I'm sorry I-" he says again, voice teeming with sincerity and guilt.

"You are truly and utterly unbelievable Spencer Reid." Your words didn’t carry anger as much as they did disappointment, and he could see the astoundment in your eyes as you pushed your chair backwards to stand, dropping the book straight in the trash bin by your desk before walking off.

It’s where it belongs; Right alongside the small sliver of respect you still had for him.

Spencer could've said so much more: he could've admitted how ashamed he felt for his careless actions and he could've apologised again and again a million times if it meant you'd stick around and give him a chance to make it up to you.

But you had already made it clear that you weren't in the right state of mind to discuss this matter further.

The best thing he could do now was give you space as he watched you walk away, a deep pain in his heart that slowly ate him alive from the inside.

He’d well and truly fucked up.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Oh sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You were bordering tears by the time you reached Garcia’s office, unintentionally interrupting her lunch break with Alex in the process, though the two seemed to care less about the interruption and more about the fact that you liked like you were about to cry your eyes out.

You take in a sharp breath through your nose as you try to tape together the cracks in your composure, although with every one you seal three more seem to appear in it’s place.

“I-” You can barely get the first word out before the tears start rolling down your face, and Alex immediately stands from her seat to guide you to sit in her place.

“Hey, you’re alright, slowly,” Alex’s hands find your shoulders and rub reassuring circles against your shirt. The slow breath you take in doesn’t stop the flood of tears that’s blurring your vision, and you only manage to get out a single word, but it’s all the two need to understand what’s got you so overwhelmed.

“Spencer-”

“I swear I am two seconds away from smacking that boy over the back of the head,” You can hear the clear frustration in Garcia’s tone. “Surely he’s got to realise how much he’s hurting you by now,”

“He does… I lashed out at him and then left to come here…” You rub your eyes with the back of your hand alongside a small sniffle, trying to rid your vision of it’s blurriness from your tears.

“Good, the boy deserves to have some sense knocked into him,” You appreciate Garcia taking your side, but you can’t help that small lingering feeling of guilt that invades the back of your mind.

“He’s just in love, it’s not his fault…” The words almost physically pain you to say. The verbal acceptance that Spencer Reid was indeed in love with somebody. Somebody who wasn’t you.

“That doesn’t mean that he should be disregarding you though sweetheart,” Alex’s tone is soft and almost maternal, and your sure that it doesn’t help how emotional you are.

Garcia’s right hand reaches forward to straighten out the collar of your shirt, unintentionally crumpled as you try to wipe your face of your emotions. “You’re his friend, and you have been his friend for longer than he’s known this girl he’s talking to, it’s not fair for him to completely push you to the side,”

Garcia was right. It’s not fair. Nothing about how Spencer had been treating you since he’d started speaking to Maeve had been fair. And you were done making excuses for the boy just because you knees deep in your feelings for him.

You didn’t deserve to feel guilty. You didn’t deserve to feel bad for lashing out at Spencer for apologising for not showing interest in your life by further proving just how little he’d actually payed attention to you. You didn’t deserve to cry because he was the most stupid genius to ever live and couldn’t see that you were hopelessly in love with him. You didn’t deserve to suffer by his hand.

It wasn’t fair.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Maeve’s been kidnapped.”

You have to consciously suppress the small voice in the back of your head that celebrates the possibility that she might not be a part of Spencer’s life for much longer. It’s a horrible thought. You should never wish ill upon anyone, no matter how much you internally despised them.

Still, that part of you that was still petty, that was still infuriated with Spencer and Maeve, wanted you to tell Spencer straight to his face that you weren’t going to help him find her and that it was karma for how he’d treated you.

But you weren’t a bad person.

As much as you might hate her, she was still important to Spencer.

“I have a wealth of knowledge i should be applying to this case, but- i can’t focus on anything for more than four seconds at a time… which makes me the dumbest person in the room-” Spencer’s eyes are full of desperation as they scan across your teammates.

“So please help me… Please help me find her…” The desperation in his voice is heartbreaking, the remnants of tears staining his face as he explains the context of the situation through broken sentences.

“We don’t have an official case, so we’ll be working on personal time,” Hotch’s voice is much quieter than you’re used to. Softer, more considerate. “Does anybody want to leave?”

You can feel his eyes linger on you as he asks the question, and you subconsciously purse your mouth into a tight line to stop yourself from impulsively pulling out of the investigation.

You might be detrimentally frustrated with him, but you did want to help. Even if it ultimately resulted in your downfall.

Hotch gave you a short nod before turning to the rest of the team. “Good, let’s get to work,”

It didn’t take Garcia very long to track Maeve down, mostly attributed to her unique name and specialised job.

Dr. Maeve Donovan, a professor at Mendel University who took a sabbatical leave 10 months ago.

The group split into different groups once they’d found her, JJ and Morgan heading off to a loft her parents owned, Alex and Rossi heading to the lab she used to work at, and you and Hotch, accompanied by Spencer, going to speak to Maeve’s parents.

“Reid,” Garcia’s tone is soft as she looks over her laptop screen towards him as he begins to stand from the conference table. “I have a picture of her, do you want to know what she looks like?”

“No,”

Spencer’s answer is immediate, joined by a shake of his head.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You and Spencer watched from behind the one way mirror as the interview progressed.

They’d last spoken to Maeve five days ago. Her mother had cancer. She was also a geneticist. They were suspicious of her ex fiancé Bobby.

Her fiancé?

You can see Spencer’s face drop at the words despite the low lighting in the room, and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows yourself.

She had a fiancé?

Spencer practically storms out of the office after the questioning is over, and Hotch has to remind him to calm down as they reach the apartment of Robert Putnam with Morgan and Rossi in tow.

When the door opens the five of you aren’t greeted by Robert, but rather a girl, a girl who looked very confused.

You invite yourselves inside at the girl’s recognition that Robert was inside the apartment.

“And who are you?”

“I’m Diane, his girlfriend,” She raised an eyebrow as the five of you looked around, confusion cut short as Robert rounds the corner questioning the sudden voices coming from his living room.

“Hey babe what’s-“

“Robert Putnam, FBI we’d like to-” Spencer’s voice cuts him off harshly as he rushes to speak, although he stops his sentence halfway as a flicker of recognition falls across his features and his anger turns to dread.

“Hey, I know you,” Robert doesn’t have the time to say anything else to Spencer before Hotch forces him out of the room, shutting the door behind him to speak to Spencer privately whilst you Morgan and Rossi remained inside.

Hotch returned a few minutes later. Spencer didn’t.

You end up taking Hotch’s place as you push yourself out of the apartment with a small “excuse me,” to follow after Spencer as he walks out of the apartment building.

“Spencer- wait up a minute-”

He doesn’t stop at your call, and you’re practically running down the stairs by the time you get to him, already out of the front doors of the apartment building.

“Hey-” You take a second to catch your breath before turning your eyes back towards him again. “Are you alright?”

You could see the flicker of confusion in his eyes as he met your gaze.

The last time you spoke to him you threw away any remnant of your friendship with him in the bin alongside the book he’d given you, and now here you were, chasing after him to make sure that he was okay.

“Why did you agree to help?”

Your face falls from concern to surprise at his question, and he takes it as a sign to continue.

“I know that you don’t like her, so why are you here?” You could see the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes, clearly overwhelmed with how the investigation was going.

“She’s important to you Spencer. Like her or not I care about you. So therefore I care about her,” You don’t think as you speak, words spilling out of your mouth with no conscious filter.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer’s apology elicits a sigh from your mouth, and you shake your head softly at him.

“Forget it, let’s focus on getting Maeve home safe alright?” He obliges to your request with a purse of his lips and a small nod, turning his eyes towards the ground.

“What’re you thinking about?” His eyes fall on yours once more at your question, round with confusion and glistening with the starts of tears. “I can see it in your face, you’re calculating something in your head,”

He exhales through his mouth in a small laugh. You’d always been able to figure him out, and not just because you were a profiler.

“2,412 hours,” His tone is uncertain, mixed between gratefulness for you observance and something far more upsetting. “That’s how long Maeve and I have contacted each other counting letters and phone calls…”

“That’s what-” You take a second to do the calculation in your head. “100 days?”

“100.5…” He runs his hand backwards through his hair, pressing his eyes closed like he’s afraid tears will spill from them if he doesn’t. “What if that’s all I get?”

“It won’t be Spencer…”

“You don’t know that-“

“Yes Spencer, I do,” You have to consciously suppress the sigh that threatens to leave your mouth, pushing your lingering distaste for Maeve down with it. “She is going to be fine, I promise,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Turns out Maeve’s ex fiancé wasn’t the stalker. In fact, he was being stalked himself, and whilst JJ and Garcia were looking over the images posted to Robert whilst him and Maeve were still together they discovered something that changed the entire direction of the investigation.

Maeve’s face had scribbled out in eyeliner.

You and the team spent the next thirty minutes rebuilding the profile from the bottom up.

“Celebrity stalkers are usually non violent,”

“You want to tell that to John Lennon Rossi?” Spencer looked up from his lap towards the group at the table, having separated himself from the group to sit on a sofa lining one of the walls so he couldn’t bias the profile.

It wasn’t going too well.

“What was it that Mark David Chapman said after he shot him?” Spencer stood from his seat, anger flaring in his nostrils. “‘It was like all of my nobody-ness and all of his somebody-ness collided’,”

You could hear the rise in his tone as he worked himself up the more he spoke.

“Spencer-“

“Maeve is somebody. And this- bitch is a nobody.”

“Spencer.”

Spencer caught your gaze, and immediately fizzling out of his eyes and replaced with guilt. “I’m sorry- I can’t be very helpful right now I should leave-“

“Yes you can Reid, you have 100.5 days of communication with this girl and a recall everything verbatim,” Morgan’s gaze is entirely concerned with Spencer’s outburst.

“There’s too much of it, and I can’t sort through any of it clearly-“ Spencer is clearly on the edge of breaking, and you can tell he’s not going to be able to keep his composure for much longer.

“Then pick one of us and we’ll go through it with you,” Hotch leaned his elbows against the table, his voice again portraying that soft, parental tone that said he knew how overwhelmed Spencer was getting.

Spencer didn’t even say anything, his eyes just silently flickered over to you and you knew you couldn’t refuse him.

You return his silence as you get up from your seat and pat your hand on his shoulder for the two of you to exit the room together.

Time to torture yourself for the sake of Spencer’s wellbeing.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Diane Turner, a research assistant working for her PhD in the same lab as Maeve. A student who had her thesis rejected because it contained a heavy sample bias that included both of her parents.

It took a while, but Garcia eventually managed to track down a loft that was owned under Diane’s parents’ names, less than 10 minutes away from Maeve’s apartment.

“Take your gun and vest off,” Diane’s voice is harsh through the receiver attached to the front of the building, and Spencer’s eyes flickered up from the silk blindfold in his hands to the metal box.

He doesn’t question the orders as he immediately begins stripping the vest from his torso, dropping it and his gun on the floor.

“Now come in alone.”

“Spencer.” You call out to him as he reaches for the door handle, and he gives you that look that makes your stomach do flips in your torso. Except this time it’s not that pleasant fluttery feeling, but instead an existential dread at the fact that he might not walk out of the building alive.

“I’ll be okay,” He gives you a nod of reassurance as he pushes the door open, and you find yourself clenching your hands around your gun to stop yourself from following after him.

The six of you wait outside for what feels like hours, and you lean back and forth on the balls of your feet as you become increasingly restless with the situation.

Then, a gunshot.

And a second.

And your heart drops in your chest.

You’re not entirely present as you rush into the building with the team following behind you, gun raised at your eyes.

Spencer had to be okay. He had to. He was going to be fine. You were going to walk into that room and he was going to be perfectly fine.

You hoped Maeve was alright too. As much as she was unintentionally causing you literal hell, you knew that she meant everything to Spencer.

You knew that he’d choose her over anything. He’d choose her over you.

And right now you don’t care. You just want him to be okay.

You force the door open to the loft with your foot, gun pointed straight ahead at the first person you see.

“Stay back-“ Spencer practically shouts from where he’s half lying on the floor, right hand clutching tightly at his left bicep, trails of blood cascading down his fingers and onto the floor.

“Stay back stay back don’t shoot-“

You let out an audible sigh at the fact that Spencer wasn’t critically harmed, although upon a whimper of his name from further across the room you turn your eyes up to the noise.

And you finally meet the girl that’s caused you ten months of hell. Held at gunpoint.

That small voice in the back of your head tells you that this might be your chance to finally rid her from your life, to let her succumb to whatever Diane had planned and leave Spencer to you.

But you take one look at the desperation in her eyes and any loathing that remained in your mind immediately fizzled out.

It wasn’t her fault. Of course it wasn’t. She was just a girl that happened to be in love.

“Diane,” Spencer pushes himself to stand, and you can see the pain in his face as he does. “There’s still a way out of this,”

“You never wanted me. Never!” Diane pushes the gun she’s holding hard against Maeve’s neck, and you can see her eyes squeeze closed as she attempts to keep herself from crying. “You lied!”

“I didn’t.”

Spencer shakes his head adamantly, and you glance over at Hotch as you spread across the back of the room, guns raised in Diane’s direction. “Diane, I offered you a deal, and you can still take it,”

“Me for her. Let me take her place,”

You only have a view of the back of Spencer’s head now, but you can tell by the tone of his voice that his expression is a pure display of desperation, one that you’re happy you can’t see because you’d lose your composure in an instant.

“You would do that?” Diane’s question is angry and accusatory, tears rolling down her face as she presses the gun against Maeve’s neck once more.

Spencer nods with no threat in his tone. “Yes,”

“You would kill yourself for her?”

“Yes.”

You practically feel your heart stop.

“Thomas Merton,” Maeve’s voice is almost exactly as you imagined it to be. Soft, smooth and, as Spencer had called it all those months ago, ‘dipped in honey’.

“Who’s Thomas Merton?” Diane’s tone contrasts Maeve’s tenfold, pitchy, uneven and overrun with manic anger.

“He knows,” You can see Maeve’s eyes flicker, and you assume that they meet Spencer’s as his shoulders drop. “He knows.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton?” Diane shakes Maeve in her grasp as if to intensify the urgence of her question, and you tighten your grip on your gun in instinctual response. “Who is he?”

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve’s voice is confident and defiant despite the clear tears in her eyes.

Thomas Merton could’ve been something between Spencer and you.

“No.”

You can see a clear change in Diane’s expression at Maeve’s words, and she lowers the gun from Maeve’s head only to hold it up against her own, staring directly into Spencer’s eyes.

“Wait-”

Spencer barely has time to shout the word before the gun fires, and you flinch at the sound as you watch Maeve and Diane both drop to the floor, dark red blood pooling around the two.

You can feel the tension in the room as everyone computes what just happened, guns lowering slowly as their eyes lock onto the two women on the floor.

You’re not focused on that. You’re focused on the tightness of Spencer’s shoulders as he takes sharp breaths in and out of his nose.

The way he seems to forget about the bullet wound in his arm as his legs give out underneath him.

The way a sob that leaves his mouth despite the fact that he tries to muffle it with his hand.

The way that Spencer broke.

He's crying. Big, heaving, heart-wrenching sobs.

His shoulders are trembling.

His hands are shaking.

His head is hanging downwards so that his hair is covering his face.

You approach him slowly, kneeling down at his side and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

His eyes slowly shift from Maeve, his sobs only seeming to amplify as he meets your gaze. His eyes are red and closely with tears, his cheeks running hot and his lips trembling.

You don’t speak, knowing that you’ll break if you do. Instead, you guide his head into your shoulder and let him crumble in your arms, grieving the loss of the love of his life.

You’re sure you’re going to cry yourself to sleep when you get home, but right now, you needed to be strong. For him.

“I’m so sorry-“ Spencer speaks through broken sobs as you hold him, the rest of the team moving to secure the scene.

“Shh,” You shake your head against his softly, rubbing the palm of your hand up and down his back as you let him cry until he physically couldn’t anymore.

“I treated you so horribly-“ He pulls away from your shoulder to look into your eyes once more. “I’m so sorry- Please don’t leave me…”

You purse your lips into a line, your expression full of so many emotions Spencer can’t distinguish any of them.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You pull his head back into your shoulder, leaning your head against his. “I promise…”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #mgg #asks 🫶

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risuola · 4 months

Text

MISERABLE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Satoru hated the way he would recognize you always, even if just by the taste of your tears.

cw: angst, husband Gojo, hurt/barely any comfort, brief physical abuse, blood mentioned, verbal abuse mentioned, borderline toxic relationship, general sadness and sorrow — 2,6k words

a/n: the spontaneous pour of my brain, the angstiest parts of it are the most active during the night... could this be tied to too much? idk, maybe

“Do you think we could ever be happy?”

The question cut through the silence of the evening like a knife, reaching your ears and mind in a way that made you hum. Your hand not even for a moment stopped the gentle motion of brushing through the soft hair of a man whose head was resting on top of your lap. The gesture automated and yet still somehow warm, still filled with emotions that over the years remained unspoken.

“Do you think we–, no, I could have done all of this differently?”, Satoru asked again, his tired gaze fixed on the golden ring he kept between his fingers. The band that sealed your love at the altar nearly five years ago. One that you took off for the first time since you vowed in front of him, promising him your heart, body and soul till the end of days.

“I’m not sure if we were meant to be happy,” you told him quietly, keeping your hand occupied by the snowy strands. The words made your throat clench the moment they left your mouth; your voice cracked just slightly at the end of the sentence. You felt your body aching from the intensity of the feelings, like all of your cells were suddenly on fire, your heart bleeding inside your chest as if the knife was stabbed right through it.

“You think so?” His voice stayed low, nearly whisper-like as he was taking in what you said. “Were we supposed to be miserable?”

“I don’t know, Satoru,” you mouthed, not much sound leaving your lips.

Your hand felt light, distressingly so, you hated the sensation. You knew this was how it had to end, you knew that the time would come to part ways with your husband, but nothing could have prepared you for the heaviness of it. You felt it all on your shoulders, weighing you down as if the entire world just collapsed and rested on you. Suddenly you felt like things as trivial as breathing became exhausting, there was not an ounce of certainty in you, not a single drop of the belief that you will be alright without him. Satoru was a part of you, he was like a vital organ without which you felt like you won’t be able to live further. But, at the same time, that very organ seemed to kill you slowly, seeping poison right to your bloodstream, hurting you time after time. A disaster. You two were a disaster.

“I’m really sorry,” he breathed out after few moments of suffocating silence. “You deserve the world that I couldn’t give you.”

“I never wanted the world,” you denied, your head shaking just slightly as you allowed your knuckles to brush against his cheek. “You are my world, Satoru. I never needed anything else. You are all I want, you are everything that my heart loves.”

“And yet, I fucked even that up,” he chuckled. A bitter undertone felt nearly palpable as it echoed in the empty area. Satoru knew it was all him. Hurting you time after time, he never thought of it until it was already said and done and yet, you were always by his side. Every shit he said to you, every word that left his mouth you took and forgave. All he could do was to savor your cries and he hated himself for the way he would recognize you always, even if just by the taste of your tears.

You were an angel, he always thought. You were too good for him, too patient and too forgiving. Even in the heat of an argument, you tried to talk him down from his outbursts. You were the one to hug him tightly to your chest, to press his ear right above your heart even if he stabbed it with his words just a moment before. You showed him nothing but love, and yet that day… Satoru had no idea what possessed him when he clenched his fist during the argument. He feels like he blacked out for a moment, because it’s only after you spit the alarming amount of blood, kneeling on the ground and keeping a strong hold over your stomach, that Gojo realized that he just hit you with the blue infused fist. It felt unreal, he couldn’t believe his own eyes. He felt like his own body betrayed him. Why would he do that?

And then, he was right at your feet, apologizing frantically as you tried to regain your breath, to not vomit, to push the pain away from your thoughts but you just couldn’t. It hurt so much, you felt like all of the organs inside you were crashed after that one, single hit. The taste of metallic covered your tongue, your vision went blurry for a couple of seconds and at first, you couldn’t even hear the repetition of sorrys that was leaving Satoru’s mouth. He was terrified and so lost. Disgusted by his own self, hating the way he lost control over his body and hurt you. Before that, the sight of your tears was something that often kept him up at night. Remorseful thoughts haunted him constantly, but now, he knew that they won’t show up anymore. Now he’ll be seeing your blood, he was certain of it. Now, he’ll be seeing your curled in pain form, gasping for air as the red is gushing from your throat. And he’ll know that he was the reason for it. That it’s him, your husband who should protect you from any harm, who caused your suffering. Even the thought of it felt surreal. Was there any good in him? Or was he just a monster?

But then, you slowly got up. Satoru had no idea how long it took, but you pushed your body up and sat yourself against the wall. You knew him well enough, you knew the state of panic that he was in that very moment and your heart broke at the sudden realization of what’s to come. Inviting him onto your lap, you let your hands wander through his hair, calming him slowly in the silence of your shared home. Then you gave him the ring. Gold, now stained with blood enough to cover the love promise that he had engraved inside the band. The vow that he wasn’t able to keep.

“Please, don’t leave me,” he whispered, knowing it’s futile to ask. You could feel the hot tears dropping from his face onto the skin of your thighs and even though he seemed calm right now, you knew him all too well to know how broken he is, laying there in complete submission to your touch. He wasn’t moving, his gaze was fixed on the jewelry he held in his hand, his eyes studying the I’ll love you forever etched into the metal.

“I don’t want to leave you,” you confessed, still gently caressing the side of his face and his hair. If it was your choice, you’d stay with him till the end of your days. You could withstand the verbal outbursts, the heated arguments – you were a part of them, you had your fair share in the hurtful words, even though you knew how heavily it was bordering toxicity. But that day the line was crossed, and you could tell he wasn’t in the right state of mind when his fist clenched before. For a split second, it wasn’t your Satoru, it wasn’t the love of your life. For that brief moment, it was the strongest sorcerer in the world, the menace, as others call him, a threat. All of your marriage you felt safe near him. The power he possessed he always used to ensure your well-being, you not even once had to fear him because of how gifted he is. He never used his jujutsu against you. Not until that day.

“Then don’t,” a plead. He had no right to ask you to stay, he was all too aware of that.

“I’m scared of you, Satoru…”

You fear him. The sound of these words rang inside Gojo’s head for a good moment, rendering him speechless and you suffocated in the silence. You hated the sentence that just left your mouth, you hated the feeling of frighten that was cursing through your veins. You never felt uneasy next to your husband. Even if it’s right after the argument, you were always certain that if any danger occurred, he’d be the first by your side to shield you from it and he showed that to you many times, protecting you from threats as trivial as you grabbing the hot pan handle. Even in the heat of a fight between you two, he’d be the first to kneel in front of you and kiss your knee if you hit it onto the table. You can speak no words but he’d carry you in his arms from the other side of the city if he knew your feet hurt from walking. But now, how could you feel safe if you know he can be pushed to the point of using his strength against you?

“I…” He began but fell silent as soon as he opened his mouth. How could he even explain what happened to him? How could he reassure you that it won’t ever happen again if he himself wasn’t even sure what made him punch you in the guts? He couldn’t even remember what was the reason for the argument before it occurred. “I don’t know what happened,” he said truthfully. “I feel like I blacked out for a moment, I would never—”

“I couldn’t recognize you for a moment,” you exhaled, closing your eyes. The picture of his face right before the hit flashed against your eyelids. That was the Gojo from the battlefield, not your husband. “But if that happened now, how could I ever be sure it won’t happen again? I don’t want to die by your hand, Satoru, and we both know you are strong enough to kill me in one hit.”

“You’re afraid I’d kill you?” It felt surreal. Was it even happening right now? Satoru’s voice dropped down to a whisper. “Do you think I’d be able to do that…?” He wasn’t sure either.

“I don’t know.”

It was a nightmare. One of those from which Satoru couldn’t wake up, no matter how harshly he would pinch himself. The agonizing weight of reality felt heavy on his body, it hurt physically, it made him want to scream, to cry, to die. What was the point of his life if he couldn’t even keep one person safe? He always prided himself for being a man of his word and yet the promise to love and cherish you till death part you seemed unachievable to him.

“I don’t know what happened. Why my body acted the way it did. But love, please believe me,” he was desperate as he raised from your lap, kneeling in front of you and gently cupping the sides of your face. His touch was almost non-existent, he was scared to put any pressure against your skin but you leaned into his palms. Your fingers found their place around his wrist, smoothing the area softly with your thumb as you looked into the blue of his eyes. There was despair storming inside the ocean of his irises, the depth of fear painting its picture on his features and it hurt you to see him like this. “Please, believe me that I would rather die myself rather than hurt you ever again. There’s nothing I can do now to erase what I did, if I could cut my hand off just to make sure it will never cause you any pain, I’d do that without second thought.”

“We both know it will grow back,” you muttered lightly and he chuckled just barely at the remark. Satoru rested his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses kissed as he allowed himself to close his eyes and you did the same.

“I love you. I can’t go without you, I can’t live without you. You’re everything that I have and I know I have been a shitty husband. We argue a lot, I said so many things that I should never even think of. Fuck, I caused you so much pain… I know I don’t deserve you. I know it’s selfish of me to ask you to stay with me even though I’m the reason for your suffering, but please, please, just give me one last chance.”

“Satoru…”

“Please, let’s change it all, let me fix it,” he was babbling, you could tell how much panic was seeping into the voice that was leaving his mouth. “I’ll change, I will do everything, anything, to make you feel safe. To make you feel how important you are for me, how much I love you.”

“I know you love me,” you whispered, pressing a kiss onto the heel of his palm.

“Don’t kiss that hand, you should hate it,” he sighed. The feeling of your lips on the hand that caused you pain burned him alive.

“I can’t hate any part of you. Even that hand, I love with all my heart.”

“Then stay. Don’t leave me, please, I beg you. I know I’m a handful, I’m terrible, I’m—”

“I knew you are a handful when I married you,” you cut him. “I knew who I’m saying I do to. Even though we fight so often, you never failed to make me feel safe. With all your power, I was never scared of you.”

“If I could give up that power just so you’d know I’ll never use it against you anymore, I would. And believe me, most of the nights I can’t sleep because the sight of your tears is haunting me and now, I know I won’t ever be able to forgive myself for the way I hit you. The blood, the hurt… God, you bled because of me…”

Feeling unworthy of being at the same level as your face, Satoru lowered his head, aiming to back away from you and rest his forehead at your feet where it should be, but you were quick to grab him by the fabric of his shirt and pull him to your chest. Once again, his mind went blank as the calm sound of your heartbeat drown out the hurricane of thoughts in his head. The warmth of your body enveloped him along with your arms as you wrapped them around his figure and out of habit, his own hands snaked your waist. You had the ability to make the world stop, to erase everything that wasn’t just you and him in the universe. You were what he needed to be able to live. No air and water could keep him alive if it wasn’t for your presence right next to him.

“I’ll stay,” the words left your mouth as a whisper but despite the quiet tone, it sounded confident. You were sure of your decision. You were sure of him, there was a lot more to Satoru Gojo than just that one moment and you realized it while kissing the hand that punched you. It got to you that what you felt wasn’t fear of him, but it was a fear of losing him. “But promise me something.”

“Yes?”

“Not today… But tomorrow, let’s sit and talk. About everything. Let’s clarify the things that we argue about, so we won’t need to anymore.”

“I’d love that. I hate fighting with you. You are all I need in life and yet I’m hurting you so often.”

“So tomorrow. We will talk about it all, okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I promise you. The world on fire won’t stop me from taking the time with you.”

“Good… now, let’s just stay like this.”

“Yeah…”

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montygatorshusband · 11 months

Text

Glamrocks X Reader Headcanons

This includes Bonnie and Foxy!

No one requested this I just really wanted to do this :>

Also so sorry this took a while :< I’ll be sure to do more faster 🩵

General Information

“Sleep mode” is basically like a human sleeping, and their new charging system.

They can do stuff like eat, sleep, drink, shower etc.

🧸Glamrock Freddy🎙️

We all know he’s a big sweetheart himbo.

I feel like he doesn’t like PDA, but does enjoy being around you. He just feels it’s very unprofessional!

But if you're upset, he’ll make an exception.

Oh, but if you're alone with him and his friends? He’ll probably just give you silent affection. Just stand behind you and nuzzle you.

When he’s on full battery, he’s a busy bee and often checks up on you before going back to work. If he’s on low battery though, he generally gets kind of sluggish and gets really tired. During those times, he just wants to cuddle you and is quite needy and clingy.

Loves it when you wear any Pizza Plex merch. Whether it be of his friends or himself.

He finds stars and space in general absolutely fascinating. Despite his wishes to not break rules… he’ll put that aside to go out to see the stars with you.

I feel like he loves retro games. Mario and Sonic and stuff. He finds newer ones a bit complicated, and his big hands make his gameplay clunky, but he’ll happily play any you sneak in.

If your having trouble sleeping or just had a bad day, he’ll sing you My Little Sunshine until you fall asleep… probably even afterwards.

He loves singing for you, and loves it even more when you sing with him. He finds your voice hypnotic and even if you think you're bad, he’s not shy to let you know how much he loves your voice.

Plant daddy. Change my mind.

Loves it when you get along with Gregory.

Giant bear boobies. Touch em.

CHUBBY. GLAMROCK. FREDDY. SUPREMACY!!

Loves baking with you. If you don’t know how, he’s happy to teach you!

One of his all time favorite activities to do with you is just cuddling and relaxing after a looong day… watching TV or YouTube or a Movie or whatever. He loves it.

Calls you honey bear.

If he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he’d be Envy. (Listen, I know it doesn’t fit. Like, at all. But, the way the rest of the Deady Sins fit with the other Glamrocks is perfect.)

🐊Montgomery Gator⛳️

He’s a complete blockhead. I love him, but he’s dumb. He’s a little stupid. A bit of a fool. Has a small amount of brain cells. Smooth brain. A himbo. A dumb jock. A-

He does have anger issues and destroys his room… but I see it as him being mad at Fazbear Entertainment. Bonnie promised him that when Monty finally got his part on stage, he and Bonnie would play together. Not replacing him. And now everyone sees him as a fame obsessed maniac who wants to dismantle Freddy. Sure, he’s very popular with people, probably one of the most popular, but… does that matter when the person you care about most is gone..?

He’s still a bit sad when Bonnie comes back, since he’s not up on stage with Monty.

Ok angst and stuff aside.

I am completely aware animatronics working out makes no sense but I really don’t care. Like I said, Monty is a Dumb Jock. (Don’t worry, he won’t bully you like the others. In fact he’ll beat ‘em up >:(

Yeah once Bonnie comes back his passion for pranks gets even worse.

A big prankster. Bonnie is his main target.

Flirty. And he’s not good at it.

When he’s confused or focusing really hard on something his tongue slips out of his snout. You got a picture of it and he threw a HISSY FIT. But he reluctantly let you keep it.

Oh dear Lordy. The way he gets oh so embarrassed when he sees you wearing his glasses…

He’s dragged you into the pools of Gator Golf on countless occasions. But after your initial shock, he likes just floating around in there with you.

He’ll happily teach you to swim and play golf. I mean, he’ll always beat you in golf, but the least he can do is give you a chance.

Y'know how people say Roxy is so sure of herself as a coping mechanism? Yeah Monty is like that except he’s just that confident. He thinks he’s the best, and while he doesn’t show off to the point of Roxy, he does crave praise and often boasts about himself to you, trying to impress you. Especially flexing for you.

MONTGOMERY GATOR STOP GETTING HIGH OFF MONTY MIX!

If he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he’d be Wrath.

🐓Glamrock Chica🍕

CHUBBY CHICA SUPREMACY!

Yes I’m completely aware her attraction is based around Fitness. I feel like part of her job is to teach kids being a bit more chubby than others is a-ok and comforts those who don’t feel confident for that reason.

So yeah if you're chubby she definitely comforts you if you're insecure about it better than anyone else.

She actually has some anxiety. But you generally make it better!

You're gonna have lots of lipstick on your face. She gets all pouty when you wipe it off.

Listen, if a guest is giving you a hard time, she WILL enter Mother Hen mode.

An absolute pop diva. She’s just swag like that. (Can we bring back swag? No? Oh. Ok :(

While she doesn’t have many songs where she sings, she has an absolutely beautiful voice.

I hope you can handle lots of affection, cause she’s a real affectionate chick!

Watching Soap Operas or Dramas while eating pizza and cuddling you is literally the best thing she’s ever been introduced to.

I hope you’ve got an appetite, cause she makes food that will make you want to gorge yourself! Believe it or not, she will be more than happy to share!

Eating is her coping mechanism, and when she’s very upset and doesn’t want to cook, she resorts to eating garbage. You have to be firm with her about it, but she appreciates you not letting her go to those extremes.

Your personal lil cheerleader.

Man, she soooooo wishes she could have social media! Too bad the higher ups are such party poopers…

Such a giggly lil thing.

If she was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, she’d be Gluttony.

🐺Roxanne Wolf🛞

She’s gotten used to praise for the smallest things, and just because she loves you doesn’t mean you're an exception!

Despite that she’s probably taller than you. (Buff Woman make my knees wobble 🫢)

Y’know those tight outfits race car drivers wear? Yeah, imagine Roxy in that.

Despite being the most popular, only behind Freddy, she has so many self esteem issues and doubts in herself. Many nights are spent consoling her as she cries and yells before wearing herself out and finally settling down and letting you hold her, brushing her hair and tail, cleaning any runny mascara and makeup.

Reluctantly lets you put ribbons on her tail. Might even keep them on.

I feel like Roxy doesn’t use that many nicknames. But, she might call you something every once and a while.

That anxiety of hers means she’s got comfort items, fidget toys, food, drinks, music etc in her room. She’ll add any stuff that helps you, regardless if you have anxiety or not.

Y’know how she compliments herself? Oh good GRIEF I hope you can handle compliments towards you. She CONSTANTLY praises you. But… it’s more so you don’t end up like her. An anxiety-depression ridden MESS. If you're already there though, she’ll help you the best she can. Which luckily, she is the best at!

Whether you be playing racing games, or be in Roxy Raceway, she WILL go all out. Yeah, Rip you.

Despite what you may think, she’s VERY open and VERY proud about her relationship with you. Carrying you around, your neck covered in bite marks and purple lipstick doesn’t leave much to the imagination…

She obsessively reads fan mail in the evening. Even the… ahem, weirder, mail doesn’t bother her. Well, as much as comments from people during the day do at least.

Just… don’t play Monopoly or UNO with her… or Monty. Or Chica. Yeah, just don’t play with anyone really.

If she was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, she’d be Pride.

☀️Sundrop🖍️

He’s a little hyperactive. Ok I lied he’s the most hyperactive.

So if you're quite a lazy person he’ll just be trying to encourage you to play with him and the kids. He genuinely does not realize if you're tired unless you tell him, or it’s SUPER obvious.

I feel like he strictly follows rules, yes, but he also likes pranks. Nothing that will make you upset, maybe just a lil annoyed.

Let’s you, and other kids, draw on him. Just know if you do, A. You have to clean it off and B. He’s not a still canvas. Will be moving the entire time.

Not really a romantic headcanon, but I feel like he and Chica are real good friends.

Wraps his arms around you several times over to hug you.

He hugs you. A lot.

He obviously loves cartoons.

🌑Moondrop💤

I dunno why people see him as a little feral touch starved gremlin. I see him as a constantly sleepy boi that loves cuddling. I mean, I’m sure he cuddles plenty of kids to sleep every day!

In other ways, SOFT MOONDROP SUPREMACY!!!!

Yes, I am aware of how he acts in SB, but I see that more of a side effect of the Glitchtrap Virus rather than his general personality.

He doesn’t enjoy not having a movable mouth. He wishes he could eat candy before bed…

If they were one of the Seven Deadly Sins, they’d be Sloth. (Moondrop more so, but I can see Sun being Sloth after a long day.)

Sorry Sun and Moon don’t have a lot, I don’t really know what to say about them.

🐰Glamrock Bonnie🎳

An absolute DILF of a bunny with that ever loving Aussie accent.

He generally has that energy where anyone will do anything he says. Intimidating and quite good at manipulation (ONLY for your best interests. And his.) (Inspired by : @theodorevg923, who generally also gives me inspiration for all of this, alongside many other Tumblrs :)

He couldn’t care less about not being in the band anymore. He comes out at night and hangs out with everyone. As far as he’s concerned, the stress is taken off of him and he gets more time teaching kids bowling.

Flirty. He’s really good at it.

Loves himself some P to the D to the A.

If someone tries making fun of you for him giving you those public displays of affection, he will tell them to F out of his bowling alley. In a bit of an… angrier way.

Loooves Ice Cream. His favorite way to relax is to eat Ice Cream and go bowling with you. He pretty much has a sweet tooth in general. The public will never find out though. He’s got too much of a public image.

But… kids melt that image. He’s got a real sweet spot for the little rascals.

Monty definitely had and still has a crush on him.

He calls you Clover. I know I know, how original.

If you put on a bit more of a… ahem, reavealing outfit, he will stutter and blush like a mess before going back to his usual calm and relaxed self.

And if you pet his ears? He will absolutely melt. You usually don’t see Soft Bonnie, so take your chance!

If he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he’d be Lust.

🦊Glamrock Foxy🏴‍☠️

He’s a small grumpy old man. Ok, I’m exaggerating but I see him as the oldest, and shortest, animatronic in the Pizza Plex (Not including general animatronics like S.T.A.F.F. Bots or the Robot Wet Floor Signs. And Chica, who between you and me, doesn’t realize she’s short.)

But he’s real sweet when he’s not a salty sea dog.

He’s got worse anger issues than Monty, but he doesn’t show it. You can still tell though. His nose and eye twitch. Don’t call him short either, that will get them WAY worse.

Oh yeah, the eyepatch isn't just for display. He only has one eye.

Has a taste for alcohol, specifically rum. Obviously, he can’t get drunk, but he’ll drink with ya, if you're of age and he will cut you off at your limit.

A Bloody Irish Pirate. I will hear nothing else.

He has to rest a lot. Don’t get me wrong, he’s fast, but after he runs or something he has to rest up a little.

Unlike Bonnie, he doesn’t know his place now he’s been shafted from the band. He doesn’t even know why he’s not in the band anymore… but considering you found him pretty much erased from history aside from the odd poster, no recollection of any animatronic even being a fox… he fears the worst.

Yeah you pretty much had to throw a FIT before Fazbear Entertainment fixed Foxy up. An even bigger fit was needed to reintroduce him to the public. An even BIGGER one for him to have his hook during work hours.

Man loves gold and money. He is a pirate.

And if you give him other gifts, he’ll cherish them just as equally.

He’s very jealous. A lonely pirate needs to keep his greatest treasure after all~

Nicknames : Sailor, Captain (Only when you’ve earned it. And only in private.), Sea Star, Pup

If he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he’d be Greed.

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT TIME TO WORK ON ACTUAL REQUESTS!

1K notes · View notes

lilywastaken · 1 year

Text

⇝ together .

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.

PART THREE OF MÉNAGE.

SUMMARY: A month after his return, you start warming up to Simon, only for him to ruin it.

WARNINGS: AFAB!Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N!), Fluff for once, Angst, mild nsfw, mentions of child abuse and abuse in general, canon typical violence, choking (not in a sexy way).

A/N: Finally finished!! I'm so sorry I haven't been able to get this out sooner, these past weeks have just been chocked full of assignments I had to finish 😭 I hope this lives up to everyone's expectations!!! Please don't forget to reblog and leave a comment, it helps a lot!!

WORD COUNT: 9.2k

MASTERLIST.

If you want to be tagged on future works, please follow and activate notifications on this account! — @lilynottaken !

Also on Ao3!

"'m blaming this on you."

You grumbled to Simon as you watched your son clap his hands against his father's, happy coos and gurgles leaving him.

"What?" He turned away from Tommy to look at you with a confused look, well, you assumed it was confused by the way his eyes were squinted. "How is this my fault?"

"He's copying you." You yawned, curling into the foetal position and pulling up the blanket over your body, head almost rolling off the sofa as you continued to pay attention to your son and his father's every movement. "You don't sleep so he doesn't."

"Not sure that's how his brain works yet." You could hear the amusement in his words, rolling your eyes as you switched your gaze from them up to the telly, that was playing some football game Simon had put on a few hours ago. "Think he's just not tired."

You know you should've expected this, Tommy's doctor had warned you at the last appointment when he'd gotten his first shots that he might experience some type of sleep regression, which meant more hours of staying awake while watching your son. And maybe it would've been worse for you if Simon wasn't there experiencing the same stress as you were. Weirdly, it felt nice to have another person in the same boat as you, even if he didn't really seem that keen on needing to sleep like you did.

Tommy seemed to had taken a liking to his father ever since the first day they'd both met, but that was kind of a given after Simon had spent the whole month after that coming over almost every single day (except for the days where he'd warned you before time that he'd be gone for work) and spending it all with his son.

You kind of hoped that Tommy had started to recognise him as a father like he did with you as a mother, since he was at the age where he was able to recognise caregivers; but even if he didn't, he did still cling onto Simon's hand every time it was time for him to leave like he did to you, tears bordering at his glassy eyes when you stood at the door with him in your arms waving goodbye to Simon.

You almost started crying every time he'd start making grabby hands at Simon, who'd rest his face against his son's tummy and let his chubby hands pull at the cloth of his balaclava, sometimes even pulling it up over his lips so he could press a quick kiss to his cheek, hiding his face immediately once you came in, unknowing that you'd been watching them before.

It wasn't like the bad blood that you had with Simon had magically been solved, you were still sometimes on edge or a bit snappy at him when it came to Tommy or your "relationship" with him, but you weren't as furious with him as you were when he first showed up.

"Not interestin' enough for you, am I?" Simon grunted as Tommy's attention drifted from the clapping to the telly above him, eyes wide as the presenter talked about some red card.

"You've bored him." You snickered, outstretching an arm to click your fingers, the sound immediately catching your son's attention. "Hi, duck!"

"He's not a bloody cat." Simon grumbled, picking up Tommy carefully from his spot on the blanket you'd draped on the floor for him to lie on, moving him onto your chest so he could cuddle into you.

You were about to snap back when Tommy interrupted you both with a wide yawn, chubby hands clinging onto your sleep shirt and eyes threatening to droop closed, although they were still stuck to the image of the footballers running across the field on the TV.

Both of you froze, Simon having been mid way to getting a toy he'd dropped not so long ago so he was stuck in that position, eyes wide and staring at his suddenly sleepy son.

You placed a soft hand on his back, pressing him further into your chest so the sound of your heartbeat would lull him to sleep easier.

But as luck would have it, a goal was scored right at the moment where his eyes finally fully closed, the commentators shouting out excitement and forcing your son back awake with a cry.

Simon and you groaned in unison, the man finally picking up the toy and collapsing on the ground, lying on his back right next to the sofa and glaring up at the ceiling, listening to you try and calm your son down from his abrupt awakening.

"Who scored?" You grumbled, masking your annoyance with interest.

"Not Manchester." Simon grunted back, raising a hand to take Tommy's, his fingers brushing against your chest in the process. "Haven't had a bloody win in a while."

"Sorry." You mumbled, remembering the disappointment that had shone in his eyes when you'd told him about some of the losses of the teams he liked he'd asked you to take a note of while he was away for work.

He'd done well at keeping his promise, sending you messages every time he had to leave, no longer disappearing without a trace, even if it was just a single day of paperwork or a check up at base. He sometimes also sent you pictures, whether it was him in his car showing you that he was close to your flat in case you weren't prepared for him or the takeaway menu at your favourite fast food place, asking for your order. They were always dark and a bit out of focus, but you couldn't deny that you hadn't let out a laugh when you'd seen the failed attempt of him trying to get out of frame, his skulled balaclava peeking out from a corner of the picture.

He'd been gone for a week this time, which explained why he was being so clingy towards Tommy ever since he'd arrived, takeout in hand and arms itching to wrap around his son, and had spent the whole last hour catching up with the both of you.

"Are you sleeping here tonight?" You yawned, closing your eyes for a moment and trying to ignore the squirming boy on your chest, his hands digging uncomfortably into your clavicle.

"Yeah. Though I probably won't be doing much sleepin'." He rumbled, letting Tommy wrap one of his chubby hands around one of Simon's big fingers. "Y'know I can just take over. Go get some rest."

You bit the inside of your cheek at that, looking away despite still having your eyes partly closed, your grip unintentionally tightening around Tommy's small body.

You were still put on edge whenever you left Tommy alone with Simon, even though he'd shown no ill towards you in any way, you just couldn't help it, the thought that something might happen to your sweet boy when he wasn't under your supervision was enough to strike an unexplainable fear into you. You knew that he'd noticed how your face turned sour whenever it was mentioned, but he hadn't ceased asking completely, knowing that sooner or later you'd have to entrust him with your son like you'd both agreed.

"Is that okay…?" You whispered, your voice barely audible over the cheers and cries of excitement from the telly, but by the way he turned his head towards you and squeezed Tommy's hand, you knew he heard you.

"Yeah. Don' worry. You need some rest."

You both stayed put for a few seconds, your hands slowly falling from their place on your son's back and scooping him up carefully before pushing yourself off the sofa, forcing Tommy's hand out of Simon's in the process.

You watched carefully as he shifted off the floor to sit next to you on the sofa, his built arms moving to cradle his son in their crook, rocking him slowly as you got up, anxiously fidgeting with your fingers as you stood and watched them both for a moment, almost terrified of taking a step out of their vicinity.

"Go." Simon commanded, getting comfy on the sofa as he turned his attention back to the game playing on the telly, the assertive tone that his voice took enough to send shivers running down your spine, nodding your head out of instinct before scurrying away like one of the rookies Simon was oh-so used to ordering around back at base.

After having a well deserved shower and pulling on some of your cosiest pyjamas, you let your body collapse onto your bed, curling into the middle where the mattress dipped and covering yourself up with your countless amount of blankets due to the chill that had overcome the country after a few rare weeks of warmth.

You smiled as you remembered how happy Tommy had looked when you'd taken him out in his stroller and let him bask in the sunlight for a bit while sitting next to him at the park, trying your best to focus on his giggles and not on the shadowy figure of his father standing behind you, more like a bodyguard waiting to take out any threats to you both instead of the father he claimed to want to be.

You let out a huff at the memory of how cautious Simon had been at first around you both, almost like a stray cat getting used to their new family: always standing around you but never too close, bringing you small gifts (i.e. takeout or groceries he thought you'd need or Tommy's new favourite teddy bear he now slept with instead of his duck), slowly making your home his own unconsciously by leaving some of his clothes packed away in a small corner of your wardrobe or packing the fridge with some of how own personal food items.

You'd noticed, of course. How could you not?

At first, when you'd found some of his clothes in the midst of the batch of laundry you were tending to, you were struck with fear. Fear that everything you'd worked hard to build was going to be invaded by this barely known presence you were just starting to get used to, but as time went on, you realised there was nothing scary about it.

It was oddly comforting, in a way. It made you feel less alone when you spotted the extra toothbrush he'd plopped in the glass next to yours, the mug he'd brought over after he'd exclaimed his concern that all of yours were fit for coffee and not for tea or the hoodies he left lying around that Tommy loved curling into whether Simon was wearing it or not.

You pulled a pillow into your arms, simulating the feeling of your son in your arms you'd gotten so used to in order to fall asleep, closing your eyes and letting the muffled sounds of the football game still playing on the TV and your son's faint giggles lull you slowly to your first proper sleep in a while.

You were pulled awake by the sound of your phone going off, your whole body jerking up and rushing to grab it out of instinct, the bright screen illuminating your room and forcing a groan out of you at the disturbance, letting your eyes focus until you were able to properly read the notification.

A frustrated sound left your lips at the message from one of the dating apps you'd forgotten you had informing you that you'd matched with someone, angered that it had been something so stupid that had woken you up from one of the best sleeps you'd had in a long time and not something important.

You fell back down onto the mattress, planning on closing your eyes and curling back into the pillow you'd been spooning moments before, but as your body slowly calmed down from the initial shock that had filled it, you were met with nothing but silence.

Your eyes had adjusted enough at this point that you were able to turn your head over to your door, frowning at the lack of light that normally came from under the door when the living room was lit, raising your head from the pillow slightly in an attempt to catch out any sounds that might be originating from anywhere in your flat.

But once again, silence continued to rule over your home.

You could've just closed your eyes and willed yourself to fall back asleep, but the creeping feeling that it was too quiet for how it normally was, that something might have happened in the few hours you'd let yourself rest was slowly burrowing itself in your mind.

And fuck, what if Simon had done something? What I'd you'd misjudged him? What if he'd taken advantage of your tired state and just fucked off with your son in his arms, leaving you broken and abandoned once again?

The fear that struck your body at that train of thought was enough to wake you up properly, allowing your body to act like it had just consumed countless amounts of caffeine and rush over to the partly open door, slowly pushing it open before looking around frantically, eyes landing on the back of the sofa and on the turned off TV in front of it.

Your hand landed on the headrest, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes landed on Simon's sleeping body, his arms protectively wrapped around Tommy, who was resting on his chest like he'd been with you before you'd gone to rest.

You made it fully around until you were standing in front of the sofa, one of your hands coming up to grab at your thin sleep shirt right over the place your heart was currently hammering against out of relief.

Fuck…

Of course he hadn't left.

You were just being paranoid.

Simon had shown you no ill will the whole time he'd been here, but you were still on edge, assuming the worst from him…

A staggered breath left your lips, your hands coming up to cover your face as you willed your body to calm down, your legs trembling as the adrenaline that had rushed through you momentarily started to fade, leaving you confused and exhausted.

One of your legs threatened to give out, and as soon as you were getting ready to collapse, a warm hand grabbed at your thigh, a silent scream threatening to leave you until you realised who it belonged to, staring down with wide eyes at your son's father, one of the hands that had been cradling Tommy now holding your leg with the same care.

"What happened?!"

You could see the panic in his eyes despite the darkness that enveloped the room, his thumb slowly rubbing up and down your skin, his best attempt at soothing whatever pain you were harbouring that he had no idea about.

He called your name, pulling you closer to the sofa so you were kneeling on the free space of the plush sofa, staring down at Simon's chest and raising one of your hands up to your son's little head, running through his thin hair.

"What happened?" He repeated, more assertive this time rather than the panicked tone he had taken before, his hand moving from the back of your thigh up to your waist, almost like it was natural to do so.

"Nothing…" you finally let out, blinking away some of the tears you hadn't realised that had formed at your waterline. "Just… Uhm…"

"...Nightmare?" He offered an easier excuse than the real reason you'd pulled yourself out of bed at such an hour, slowly nodding your head in agreement and causing him to let out a sigh. "Do you-"

"I'm okay. Just… shaken up." By the way you were anxiously running your fingers through Tommy's hair as if to assure yourself that he was real, that he was indeed lying there asleep (something you hadn't realised up until that moment, Simon had somehow actually gotten Tommy to take a nap.), he assumed that whatever nightmare you'd had was related to him. "Needed to check that he was okay."

Yeah, that cemented it.

Simon would be lying if he said he hadn't a few nightmares of his own about Tommy ever since he'd met him properly, whether it was him forcibly being taken away from you by one of the many enemies he'd made across his life or a freak accident ending any hopes he'd had of all of you being a family.

And maybe they were a bit out of pocket, he'd made it very hard for anyone to trace you or Tommy back to him by always parking his car a few blocks away, making sure that Tommy had your last name instead of his and that the military had no idea about his offspring.

He couldn't have any records that would link you two to him, he couldn't even risk taking that chance, he knew that as soon as two of his weaknesses were revealed, it would only be a matter of time for them to be exploited by his enemies.

So, he understood. He understood the fear that came with a nightmare about your son, the need to see him and reinforce the fact that he was okay in your head.

"He is. Tired 'imself out a few hours ago." He moved towards the back of the sofa, allowing you space to sit next to them both, his hand still continuing to rest on your warm skin and pulling you along carefully, ready to pull away the moment you showed any signs of uncomfort.

"How come he sleeps for you?" You mumbled, more of a thought to yourself rather than something you wanted to share, but it caused Simon to smile beneath his mask nonetheless, raising his other hand up to Tommy's head to run a finger down his little nose, ignoring the way his heart rate spiked when it brushed against yours.

He thought about making a joke about being his favourite, hoping that it would brighten the mood a bit, but then remembered the look of dismay that would come over his teammates' faces whenever he made one about anything, and on second thought, maybe he'd have to wait a bit until you were both comfortable enough to enjoy his stupid jokes.

"Guess he's bored of me. You're much more entertainin' to be awake around." He rumbled, a soft chuckle leaving your lips at what you assumed was an attempt to lift your spirits.

"Yeah…" you smiled, leaning your body on the arm that was propping you up, your hand ceasing its brushing of Tommy's hair and simply resting on his small head, your heart growing bigger as he let out a little coo, snuggling further into Simon's hoodie.

You hadn't even been thinking about the hand cupping your waist, too focused on your son's sleeping figure and the warmth that it brought you, unconsciously wriggling a bit further into the touch, but you froze once Simon's hand immediately snapped back from you, as if he'd taken that as an immediate sign that he had broken a few boundaries by getting too close.

"Sorry."

You bit on your tongue, not wanting to full admit how much reassurance his touch had brought you and how much you'd give to have it back (you blamed the neediness on how exhausted your body was and the delirium that came with the lack of sleep you'd been subject to recently), not making any move to answer and instead focusing fully on your son.

"You want to take him?" Simon offered, leaning further up the sofa so he was kind of sitting, kind of lying on the arm rest. "Don' kids sleep better with their mams?"

"I… I think that may be a myth." You breathed out a chuckle, shaking your head as he made a move to hand Tommy over to you. "No, it's okay. I move a lot at night, I don't - I don't want to hurt him, you know?"

Simon turned down to the fragile little human he was holding, remembering the exact moment he'd realised that you were both in charge of taking care of him, of keeping him out of danger and stopping anyone and anything from shattering the little being that seemed to be made of glass.

"That's fine."

Silence fell over the both of you, an awkward atmosphere forming as you didn't move, feeling as time went on that you were invading the little personal space he was allowed to have in your flat.

"D'you want to stay?"

What?

Your brain short-circuited, blinking at him owlishly, as if he'd just spoken in an unknown language, the words still processing in your mind.

"Stay?" You managed out, looking down at the space between you both, a space where you could easily fit into if you were to snuggle into his side and let him hold you.

But surely, he wasn't suggesting that.

Memories of how he'd held you that fateful night flooded your mind, his warm calloused hands sprawled out against the bare skin of your waist, the sound of his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage lulling you to sleep…

"Yeah, stay."

…It made you want to accept.

Made you want to melt into his side and wrap an arm around his wide chest, tangle your fingers in your son's soft hair and lie there with them both, making sure that no harm could come to Tommy thanks to the protective shadow that was Simon Riley.

But you couldn't. You knew that.

The walls you'd built while carrying Tommy in hopes that you'd never be hurt or abandoned again, the walls that had kept you relatively safe within the expanse of your mind refused to crumble, refused to make way for the man that had come barreling back into your life and threatened to destroy them.

You couldn't risk it.

So, you didn't.

You pulled your hand away from your son as if he burned, cradling it against your chest and looking away from Simon's imposing stare, the look in his eyes making you want to squirm and cry and adhere to anything he wanted.

"No." If you'd still been looking at him, you would have noticed the way his shoulders slumped, the way the dim light in his eyes proceeded to disappear at the single word that left your mouth. "Thanks."

It seemed every little step of progress you'd both taken together the whole month immediately dissipated away thanks to his idiotic question.

Of course you'd fucking refuse his stupid invitation, what was he thinking? That you were both a happy couple who didn't pass on any chance to hold each other in your arms? That he was your husband, the proper father of your son who you loved and cared for, who you enjoyed having pressed right against you? He was a fucking idiot. He couldn't contain himself for once in his life and he'd gone and ruined everything.

"Okay." Despite the inner turmoil that raged inside of him, that simple word of affirmation was all he could get out, and he hoped to whatever god was up there (that apparently loved torturing him) that you'd both wake up the next day without a single recollection of what had happened last night.

"Good night." You whispered, pushing yourself off the sofa and wrapping your arms around your chest, immediately regretting every single one of your actions that night as you gazed upon how truly comfy and warm Simon and your son looked snuggled together, wishing that you had the emotional capability to let your resentment go and indulge in Simon's touch.

"'Night."

You willed yourself to take the first step back, tearing your gaze away from them and heading back to your bedroom, your face erupting into warmth out of a mixture of embarrassment and sadness, a clear sign that your body wanted nothing more than to just burst into tears and let Simon wrap you up in his arms and soothe you down like you knew he could.

You buried your face into your pillow as soon as you made it back into your now-cold mess of sheets, tugging one of the pillows back into your arms and doing your best to imagine that it was someone else, someone else who was as willing as you'd imagined Simon had been before to have you in their arms, to stroke your hair and calm you down because they loved you, because they cared about you and wanted nothing more than to see you as happy as you'd been a mere few hours ago.

You passed out soon enough, a few tears running down your cheeks as you subconsciously wrapped yourself around the pillow like a koala, the tear stains quickly disappearing during the night and lacking any evidence that they were once there when Simon walked through your door in the early morning, standing at the side of your bed for a few moments before he leaned over, pulling up the covers and tucking them around your sleeping body.

The sound of the shower coming alive and the pipes groaning was the thing that pulled you awake, struggling a few moments to rid yourself of the covers that pushed onto you, wondering to yourself when and how you'd tucked yourself in so aggressively, turning your head towards your bathroom and listening to the clinking of shampoo bottles and the water as it hit the tiled walls.

Your bathroom was unfortunately directly connected to your bedroom, so in order to get into the shower, Simon would have had to pass by your bed and… tuck you in? Did he really tuck you in?

You pulled languidly at the covers, looking down at your nightwear and growing warm as you saw how transparent your shirt looked in the morning light, leaving almost nothing to the imagination of whoever were to look down at your chest.

Simon had seen you like that.

You squeezed your eyes closed out of embarrassment, as if he was right there judging you with his stupid thousand yard stare, lifting yourself off the mattress and looking around your wardrobe for a shirt, restoring to a band one you'd stolen from one of your ex boyfriends you'd never had the heart to throw out.

You were mid straightening it out, your previous night shirt now pooling at your feet, when the door to the bathroom opened, your immediate response being to wrap your arms around your chest and let out a cry of warning, turning around so he was facing your back.

"Fuckin'-"

"Go back in!" You cried out, wanting nothing more than for the earth to burst open and swallow you whole, feeling too tired to be dealing with this kind of embarrassment at such an early hour of the morning.

You cracked an eye open as the door closed, letting the grip you'd had on the shirt go as you faintly heard Simon curse, trying to erase the memory of what had happened out of your brain.

As you pulled on the shirt, you willed yourself to think about anything other than the glimpse of flesh you'd seen before turning around, the wide chest that had been littered with the scars he'd once let you trace over, the towel around his waist that had barely cov-

Stop!

Unknown to you, Simon was having a similar dispute with himself from inside the bathroom, resting his flushed face on the cool tiles of the wall as he listened to you shuffle around your room, cursing himself out for being so goddamn stupid and exiting the bathroom without even checking if you were awake or not.

That wasn't the only reason he should've checked, he thought you'd still be asleep, so stupidly, he'd gone out with barely any coverings, including the one on his face, so he was pretty sure you would've seen the way his eyes almost immediately darted down towards your chest if you hadn't been busy enough with covering yourself and ogling at his chest.

"Fuck…" he breathed out, running his fingers through his hair and looking at himself in the foggy mirror, the tired, broken stare of a being he could barely consider a man staring back at him.

After a few more moments of staring at himself he couldn't bear it anymore, grabbing his discarded balaclava and pulling it over his what he considered broken face, his other clothes continuing as he did his best to cover every single patch of skin he could, hand landing on the doorknob once he was finished and asking for confirmation.

You'd about finished putting on the shirt when he'd piped up from inside, letting out a small "you can." before he opened the door again, face now covered and eyes darting down at the oversized shirt you'd pulled over your bottoms, closing it behind him.

"Didn't know you'd be changin'." He grumbled, his way of apologising without saying the exact words, eyes scanning the band on your shirt. "Y'like Joy Division?"

"Huh?" You looked down at the shirt, straightening it out to properly look at the band you'd forgotten was plastered on the front, shrugging slightly. "Yeah, they're good. I'm, uh, not the biggest fan. This was my boyfriend's."

"Boyfriend?" He spat out, almost with malice.

"Ex." You clarified, pulling at the ends of your shirt out of nerves, the way he was staring down at you reminiscent of how you'd assume higher ups looked down at their soldiers when they were in the wrong.

"Right." He grunted, looking away from you and training his stare at the bedroom door, nodding towards it. "'M gonna go check on Tom."

He brushed past you, leaving you standing in the middle of your bedroom twiddling your thumbs, confused and embarrassed due to the interaction you'd just shared.

You walked into the kitchen, stopping in your tracks when you noted that the dishes you'd left last night after Simon had brought take away had been cleaned right up, the plastic bowls from the curry thrown away in the recycling along with the other trash you'd used when making Tommy formula (you resorted to using that instead of pumping or breastfeeding when Simon was over).

God, now you felt even worse for what had happened last night.

You rubbed your hands all over your face, digging your nails into your scalp as you ran them through your hair, snapping your head up as your heard your son giggle, going back a few steps to look through the crack of the door, your chest tightening as you watched Simon feed Tommy, murmuring a string of words you were too far away to understand.

Fuck, you really felt awful.

You pulled out a few ingredients, acting almost on autopilot as you fried the sausages and toasted the bread, making his tea subconsciously the way you know he liked it (he'd never forced you to make tea, you'd seen the sticker on a takeaway cup he'd left on the counter), and pouring it into the cup he always used.

"You didn't have to." Simon mumbled as he walked out of the nursery, holding the empty bottle of milk in one hand and a plastic bag with a dirty nappy in the other, looking down at the plate of food you'd made him.

"I wanted to." You mumbled, taking a bite out of your own buttered toast as you watched him walk around the kitchen, throwing away the bag and cleaning out the bottle before starting on his breakfast, standing at the island instead of sitting like you were. "As thanks. For, uhm, cleaning up."

"It was nothin' deserving of this." He mumbled underneath his breath, shoving a spoonful of the baked beans into his mouth, now visible thanks to him pulling up his balaclava, the taste of the normal breakfast he'd have at whatever café he normally went to complete shit compared to yours.

"It's fine. I went a little overboard, it's been a while since I've cooked for someone."

He let out an amused huff, nodding his head. "Yeah, babies don' really need a full brekkie."

You both went silent after that, your eyes looking around at everything but at him, secretly hoping that he was enjoying the food, wishing you would've put on the radio or the news so you weren't sitting in complete silence.

The tapping of his fingers against the counter finally pulled your gaze towards him, watching him carefully as you continued to eat.

"Laswell called."

Laswell?

The face you made must've made him realise you had no idea who he was talking about, his hand coming up to grab the mug of tea and take a long sip before speaking again.

"Station Chief Laswell." You nodded along, hoping that he'd believe that you actually knew what he was saying. "She's got a mission f'us."

Oh.

"When?" You spoke out, a bit choked up as you tried your best to focus on the food instead, you always got unexplainably nervous when he left for a mission, despite the fact that he always came back.

"Gotta be there by 1."

You turned to look at the time on the microwave, the 09:00 displayed there striking unexplainable fear in you.

"You should get going, then."

"I should."

Neither one of you moved.

"Did you say goodbye to Tommy?"

"I did." He took a final sip of his tea, placing the cup down and turning to look at the nursery, the strangling pain he felt every time he left you coming back to haunt him. "Changed his nappy too. Like y'taught me."

You smiled at the memory. A few days after he'd first shown up you'd tried your best to teach him how to change Tommy and you'd gone through almost 10 nappies by the time he'd been able to put one decent enough (you'd quickly changed it yourself after he'd turned around, you didn't want the nappy to cut off your baby's circulation), so you hoped that he'd actually done it properly this time.

"Thank you…" You offered him a small smile, looking down at your own cuppa, wrapping your arms around the now lukewarm mug. "Go get ready. I'll clean up."

Simon really didn't want to, he wanted to continue standing there talking to you, gazing at your tired face and how cute you looked taking small bites out of the food you'd made that you'd undoubtedly wouldn't finish and would slide over to him like you'd done all those times before.

But he couldn't. He was a soldier. One that was trained to kill and follow orders no matter what and no matter the circumstance, one that would be laughed at if he called in saying he wanted to stay with- well, whatever you were to him.

He was about to zip up the duffle bag he'd left in your room during his small stay when he caught a glimpse of something he'd forgotten about.

The gun was relatively light in his hand, one that was smaller than the ones he was used to carrying out in the field, but could quickly figure out how to use in the span of a millisecond.

He called out your name, rapping his knuckles against the counter to catch your attention, raising his arms in surrender as fear filled your face, dropping the plate into the sink and taking a step back as soon as you caught sight of the gun.

"Simon! What the fu-"

"It's not loaded." His other hand waved around the magazine, placing them both down on the island in front of you both. "I'm not going to use it."

"I would fucking hope so!" You cried out, wiping off the soap suds on a towel and pressing your back into the counter, gripping the edge of it as if he was really threatening you with the gun.

"Do you know how to shoot one?"

You shook your head. You'd never even seen one this close apart from the rare policemen that carried one, let alone held one.

"Come." He picked them two items up, walking back into your room and waiting for you at the door to follow, worried about what he was planning on doing. "Where would you keep a gun?"

You turned to him with a raised eyebrow, once again expressing your confusion with a single stare before turning to the bedside table closest to the side you normally slept in, pulling the drawer out and immediately growing warm as you gazed down at the string of condoms along with some other items.

"Here, I suppose…" You watched him sit down on the bed, the mattress immediately sinking beneath his weight as he raised the gun and magazine up into your line of view.

"Take it."

You shakily did as he said, the gun feeling heavy in your palms in contrast to how easy it had felt for Simon, turning it around a few times as he continued to speak, pointing out every single detail and part of what he had soon let you know was a Glock.

"It's the one most policemen carry. Not very heavy, but still capable of takin' down a man." He murmured, almost letting out a chuckle as he took the gun and cocked it, making you jump at the sudden sound.

"Why would I want to take down a man?" You asked tentatively, taking it back from him and trying to fit in the magazine like he'd instructed you to.

A warm hand came up to cover yours, stopping you in your tracks and allowing him to get up and take the firearm from you, pulling out the magazine and placing them both in the drawer, trying his best to ignore the other items that were scattered around.

"Listen to me." He turned his head as he slammed the drawer shut, staring directly into your eyes to make sure that you were paying attention. "I cannot ensure your safety while I'm gone. There's tons of fucked up people who'd take whatever change to tear me down and would not think twice about using you or Tommy to do so. This is just in case. You only use this if you or Tommy are in imminent danger. If there is someone threatening any of you, you do not hesitate, you take the gun and use it."

Use it.

Use it!?

His hand came up to cup at your cheek, pulling you out of your swarming thoughts so he could be sure you were listening.

"I- Simon, I can't- I'll go to jail if I use it, I can't-"

"You won't." He interrupted, shaking his head. "I won't let them. You're under my protection, this is just in case of emergency when I'm not around."

You nodded, not knowing what else to do, the gun that had been in your hands mere moments ago feeling like a burden despite it being locked away.

"Oi. Lovie, look at me."

That immediately caught your attention.

"Tell me you understand."

Your mouth had gone dry, the combination of the shock behind his little surprise and the nickname that had slipped out of his mouth proving to be too much to handle.

"Tell me. You understand."

You took a deep breath, nodding your head. "I understand, Simon."

Even after he'd left, you couldn't shake yourself off that foreboding feeling, terrified that the moment where you'd have to use the gun would arrive sometime soon, the thought of you or Tommy coming into danger while Simon wasn't around enough to make you want to crumble into tiny pieces.

You'd stood by the door like you always did, although this time Tommy was fast asleep in his crib and your arms were empty, leaving you to say goodbye to Simon (although looking up into his eyes, you knew he wasn't Simon anymore) all by yourself.

"When d'you think you'll be back?" You whispered as he opened the door, not wanting to disturb any of the neighbours that might be loitering around (despite knowing that news about the terrifying man that resided in your apartment had travelled quick after he'd threatened your neighbour), handing him his jacket.

"A week, tops. I'll send you a text as soon as I know." He grunted, shoving on his jacket before pulling up his duffle bag, swinging it over his shoulder. "You need anythin', you call base, okay? They'll relay the message if it's necessary."

He'd given you the number to his base a few weeks ago, but you knew you'd never have the heart to call it, too embarrassed that the little problem you were currently having was nothing compared to what Simon was going through, and you didn't want to disturb any of his work if it really wasn't that important.

"Sent you money this morning. You got enough for a month." He went through his mental list of everything he should say to you before going, leaning against the door frame and looking down at you through heavy eyelids. "Get some takeout, don't strain yourself any more than you already are. Doctor said you should take it easy."

You dismissed the urge to roll your eyes, cursing yourself out for even allowing him to take you to the doctor in the first place and listen in.

"I know. I'll be fine, Simon. You just worry about yourself."

"Always do." He said, nodding his head as a form of goodbye before pushing himself off the doorframe, heading towards the elevator and leaving you standing there, only closing the door when you heard the front door close from all the way downstairs.

— I think he misses you.

— Won't let go of the teddy bear even though it's all dirty :(.

‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

God, if Simon wasn't wearing his mask he was pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to contain his smile, zooming into the picture you'd sent him of your small boy lying in your bed fast asleep cuddling the little plushie he'd gifted him.

‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

— More.

‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

He hoped you understood what you meant by that, and by the way a few more pictures loaded in within seconds, he was glad you did.

He had to print some of those.

He'd once made a joke about one of the soldiers who wore a picture of their beloved in a small locket to Soap, commenting how it reminded him of the soldiers in WWI, when they were really just on their way to disarm a bomb.

But now he felt the need to have some type picture of you both or trinket that you'd given him right in the pocket over his heart, one that he could easily pull out in the middle of a mission to remind himself of why he was doing this, of why he couldn't let himself get caught by the enemy, of why he always had to come back to you.

He couldn't even bear the thought of his dog tags arriving at your doorstep instead of him one fateful day.

"Your nephew?"

Ghost snapped his head up, meeting the curious gaze of his captain and the bright orange tip of his cigar. "What?"

"Your nephew." Price gestured towards his lieutenant's phone, where the picture of Tommy drooling around one of his toys was still displayed. "You told me about him once at that bar in Vienna. What's his name?"

"Joseph." Ghost answered, shaking his head. "No, he's… Not a baby anymore. Must be a bloody teenager by now."

Price hummed, taking another puff from his cigar before looking away, squinting his eyes from the sun, wishing he'd been as smart as Ghost by bringing a pair of sunglasses.

"So."

"So?"

"Who's he, then?" Once again, the captain looked down at the dimly lit picture, where he could barely make out the features of the little boy, but by the onesie and plushie, he was able to decipher the not so difficult puzzle.

"He's…" Ghost trailed off, taking one last look at the picture before turning off his phone, sliding it into one of his pockets and crossing his arms over his chest. "No-one."

"No-one?" Price huffed out, amused. "So you just have pictures of random babies on your phone, is that it, Lieutenant?"

Ghost flared up at his captain, the frown obscured by the sunglasses he'd put on after the clouds had dispersed, but by the way his body had tensed, Price could only assume he'd pissed him off.

"Name's Tommy. That's all you're getting." He grunted out, looking away from the older man like a child admitting to something embarrassing.

"Like your brother?" Price commented, letting out a groan before sitting down on the wall next to Ghost. "Isn't that a coincidence?"

"No, she didn' know when she named-" Ghost stopped himself from saying anything further, the slip of the tongue already having revealed the existence of a 'she', and he did not want to say any more.

"'She'?" Price grinned, blowing out some of the smoke before bringing his cigar up to his lips. "Come on, Simon. We're not on duty, are we? Not your captain right now."

He'd promised himself to keep quiet. He couldn't have anyone find out about you or Tommy, he couldn't risk having that information out in the open, his weakness out there for everyone to know.

But Price… Well, Price was different. He'd saved him multiple times across the span of time he'd spent working for the army, he'd been the one to pull him out of the deepest of holes, the one to trust him enough to allow him to join the 141.

They trusted each other.

"She's… I don't know." He let his head cock back, looking up at the forming clouds. "I knocked her up."

"Fuckin' hell, Simon." Price breathed out along with some smoke, turning to look at him with a sort of horrified and disappointed stare. "You're a dad?"

"Yeah."

"Christ, you're makin' me feel fucking old." He grumbled, taking the phone from Ghost as he handed it over, squinting at the dimly lit screen. "Cute little bugger, isn't he?"

Ghost smiled beneath his mask, watching Price scroll through the countless pictures you'd sent him across the month he'd been back, resisting the embarrassing urge to point out small details of every picture like an art major in a museum, instead keeping quiet and itching slowly to grab his phone back.

"Think you're a good dad?" Price asked, taking Ghost back a bit as he slid his phone back into the confines of his pocket, shrugging his shoulders as he squinted at two figures in the distance.

"Not the worst. Don't think he's got the mental capability to recognise if I'm good or bad to 'im. Least he doesn't cry every time he sees me." He breathed out a chuckle, snapping his mouth shut as he saw Soap and Gaz approach, the conversation sizzling away as they plopped down next to them both.

As the others started talking about another topic, Ghost thought about the question he'd been asked before more in-depth.

He wasn't a bad father, right?

He wasn't like… that.

Simon would be caught dead before even thinking of inflicting onto Tommy the same pain his own father had inflicted onto his family.

Imagining his small boy going through the same trauma, the same horror, the same fear he'd felt during his childhood was enough to tear his cold heart apart.

And he'd never treat you like his father had treated his mother, he'd never subdue you to the same pain she went through every day, he wouldn't let himself fall into the circle of abuse that had started way before his own father.

And Simon wasn't perfect. He knew that.

But he wouldn't stoop as low as his father had during the beginning of his life, where instead of the love and care a child was supposed to receive from his parents, he received the abuse and pain that no one deserved.

Just like him.

He closed his eyes as he remembered the burning shouts as his father berated him, always comparing the both of them and forcing Simon into tears, the mere thought of ending up as horrible as his father reducing him to sobs.

Even now, he still felt sick when he'd stare at the pictures of his father his mother still kept around her room in the nursing home, horrified whenever she'd point out their similar eyes and same blond hair.

But he wouldn't end like that. Despite whatever physical similarity he shared with his father, they had nothing in common personality wise.

Simon wasn't a monster.

He wouldn't hurt you or Tommy.

He wouldn't let anyone hurt you or Tommy.

He was a protector, a soldier trained to serve his country and the civilians who resided within it.

And he would protect. No matter what.

"S'alright, lovie… Jus' me."

"Simon…" You breathed out, letting your eyes flutter closed as his hands roamed the exposed skin of your chest, broken lips pressing kisses the whole way up to your jaw.

"That's it… Such a good girl f'me… Pretty, pretty girl." His warm hands cupped at your chest, pulling another whine out of you as he toyed with your breasts. "My good girl, right?"

"Mhm…" You mumbled, letting your head loll back onto Simon's shoulder and look up at him through tear covered eyelashes, your brain not functioning properly to process the blurred mass of what you assumed was a man's face staring down at you with those beautiful eyes, his breath hitting your lips as he leaned down to press the kiss you'd been longing for for so goddamn long—

Your body jolted awake, an uncomfortable ache between your legs quickly making itself known as you tossed around in your messy bed, brows furrowed as your brain tried to catch up with your suddenly awakened body.

What had you even been dreaming about?

You rubbed at your eyes with your wrists, digging them deep enough so you saw a few blinding colours, letting go and resorting to staring up at the ceiling.

You didn't even bother checking your phone, already knowing that the only notifications you would have received in the few hours you'd spent asleep were the ones from the dating apps you still didn't have the energy to delete.

None from Simon, of course. He'd been gone for over two weeks by now, which wasn't surprising, since he had let you know that this mission would be a long one and had warned you in advance.

Considering the last mission he'd gone on was almost a month ago (and had only lasted a few days, you think he finished as soon as he could to be back with Tommy, by the way he'd barreled through the house to get to the nursery) and that you and Tommy had gotten him all to yourself for about two weeks straight, you'd expected him to be called sooner or later.

You weren't really looking forward to him coming back, since you'd have to break the news to him that he'd missed Tommy's first attempts to sit up without support and the success that came after.

Luckily, you'd filmed most of it, although you did end up throwing the phone on the sofa to congratulate your son personally, pressing kisses to his chubby rolls and listening to him giggle before accidentally helping him fall back onto your bed, causing him to burst out crying.

Okay, well, maybe you could just edit the final part out.

You were pulling the covers over yourself, snuggling back into the warmth of your mattress before attempting to close your eyes and fall back asleep (hopefully to return to whatever dream you'd been having before), when the sound of the creek of your floorboards snapped you out of it.

Your heart stopped, listening out for any further sounds, breath hitching in your throat as what you feared you'd heard continued, recognising the footsteps going from the living room into the kitchen.

You leaned over to your phone, hoping to God that Simon had finished the mission early and had sent you a quick message telling you he'd be coming back soon, but as you unlocked the phone…

Nothing.

So whoever was walking around your house was not Simon.

You heard muffled whispers, too quiet for you to understand but loud enough to send a cold shiver down your spine.

It terrified you. That cemented the fact that there was actually someone in your home, walking around like it was nothing.

But there was more than one voice. Two. Or was it more?

You assumed the sound that had woken you up had been the door opening, which inflicted even more fear into you at the thought that they must have had a key instead of knocking your door down since the sound hadn't been enough to stick with you after pulling you awake.

Your eyes instinctively darted over to the bedside table, where Simon's gun still laid untouched every since he'd "gifted" it to you, staying frozen until one pair of feet got a bit too close to your door, mind racing and adrenaline pumping through your veins as you scrambled to open the drawer as quietly as possible and pull out the gun and mag with shaky hands, carefully pushing it in before cocking it, hissing at the loud sound it made.

You stepped out of bed, body shaking as you neared the door with the heavy gun in your hand, listening out carefully for what they could be saying.

"—ce gaf. Didn' expect this from ya."

"You're a classy one aren't — your sofa?"

The voices were broken and muffled, leaving your brain to try its best to complete them.

God, this was terrifying. You could feel your whole body shaking, waiting for the moment where it could give out.

It's okay. Deep breaths.

You can do this.

The doorknob rattled, the moment it twisted seemingly happening in slow motion, your heart skipping a beat before you raised your gun up to the attacker, finger grabbing at the trigger just in case they made a dangerous move on you, your frantic eyes meeting the surprised ones of the man you were currently pointing a gun at (which you'd never used before, mind you).

"Steamin' fuckin'-"

You didn't even have time to react before his arm instinctively raised towards you, hand grasping at your throat in an instant, like the only thing he'd been taught to do was to kill.

"What the fuck are you doing!?"

You heard a familiar voice roar as the hand tightened around your throat, the gun now abandoned at your feet as your hands scratched and tugged at your attacker's hand.

The last thing you saw before your eyes clouded over was the large shadow coming up from behind your assailant, their face one that despite the tears that blurred your vision you could tell was ready to rip apart someone.

You didn't even have time to think if it was going to be you or his partner.

TAGLIST: @selfassassin @ess-perspective-blog @crazyfandomist @webreathfandoms @warners-wife @prodyng @gaycrystalbitch @uhhely @mentallynot-here @jordanwalkersworld @skepticalleo @bratsukisworld @screamingoverfiction @comedinewithmeyeh @gojosbucket @mikasakuchiki @jonhswife @tea-effect @thelittlejinx @cafesho @daddylorianisastateofmind @63sucker @simpingforleoandnico @simonsslvt @embers-of-alluring @uriahs-sketchings @alexisv15 @alexkellersleg @jordanwalkersworld @tabalugax @diekoniginvonfernet @thatoneautor0123 @technicallyvirtualmilkshake @littlezarp @crazyfandomist @hypernovaxx @am-3-thyst @madamemelancholysstuff @lylesx @anxietydrogz @jaymum @coacaiyne @emmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaaa @ghostsfavhoe @maviee @pedropascalswhore @d4z01 @beakami (if your name is in white, it means I couldn't tag you!)

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x fem reader #ghost x female reader #cod mwii #call of duty #ghost x you #ghost fanfiction #ghost x fem!reader #ghost fic #cod mwii x reader #ghost ansgt #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #cw pregnancy #— ménage

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14thgalerie · 6 months

Text

i peeled my orange today

• pairing: james potter x reader

• now playing:

• word count: 1.3k

• genre: angst

— a short one that i did last night. peeling fruits had always been something that shows the tenderness of humans to me. that one poetry reading about oranges made my heart clench at the thought that came to me of best friend!reader who has always pined for james and the bittersweetness of being too late.

There he was standing by the edge of the lake, his slender silhouette illuminated by the pale blue moonlight. At the crunch of stray leaves, he turns to look at you, his expression containing surprise.

In hushed communion, you stood in silence beside him, opting to fix your gaze on the languid current of the water before you. Capturing a mental photograph of the delicate interplay of the light as it hits the dancing small waves deep into your mind, ingraining the image to a corner that you could visit now and then when you forget the laughter that bounced against the corridors.

For a while, you chose to linger in the sound of the rusting trees surrounding the castle that casts a melody for you. You were in no rush to speak your mind, not when there was a clear understanding that he would stand sentinel for a thousand years should you want to.

17 years of friendship told you that. Threads of shared laughter and silent conversations. Tales that were shared with no urgency.

And so, in the fragile and sacred lull of the moment, you reveled in the comfortable silence. If the years it took to be freed from your heart was to be likened, it would be a while before he could fathom to be in the same space as you.

“James.” You call. Slowly, you turn your head to face him, only to discover that his attention is transfixed on you already.

Finding that gaze studying you; flickering ever so slightly across the features that painted your face— perhaps he already knew the words that were poised to slip out of you. After all, he did know the twists and turns of your soul much more intimately than any other. Those pretty eyes mirrored the waters in front of you with the light hitting the silvers on his waterline.

The 15-year-old kid within you felt enraged to see the swarm of emotions that drowned you in those eyes.

A tempest of desire, and longing, woven with heaps of frustration, and guilt. It was something that held you captive and consumed you for longer than you dare admit, threatening to swallow you whole. As you stand before him, your brain struggles to recall how exactly you escaped it.

Reaching out the hand closest to him to grab his warm hands, missing the way it enveloped your shivering ones. You couldn’t help the fluster of memories that came rushing back and the instinctive way your tear ducts activated.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, a tremor infused in the last syllable.

“For what?” You ask, brushing aside tears with a subtle flutter of your lashes. Thumbs caressing the skin on the back of his hand, moving with a patterned path. You didn’t notice it but he did and that realisation added to the weight to the lump that blocked his airways.

“I just stand here and yet I still manage to upset you.” He says, a hesitant exhale lingering between the words.

“What made you think that?” You press.

“If the past year wasn’t enough proof of that, then I don’t think I even know you as well as I would like.”

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud threatening to explode. His lungs relax as he realises how he held his breath when you moved your eyes away.

The combination of his emotions, adding the ones he still couldn’t pinpoint, left him staggering in his stance. If it weren’t for the way his knees locked from his many years of quidditch, he would be beside you on his knees.

Every second that passed felt like a sharp blade. The pain was hollow yet deep, striking the centre of his heart and reaching throughout every nerve in his body. And it was only a deep, and unending sense of devastation left in him.

He knew what was coming, a somber revelation that loomed over his head for several weeks already. Yet, he resisted the need to acknowledge it, not when your own countenance showed no obvious indication of it. Thus he indulged himself in this false pretense, allowing himself that at least. Alas, the days kept getting shorter, and the hours were swift in their passage and he was left gripped by a sinking fear as you kept getting further and further away from him even though your physical body remained next to him.

As you always did from the ungraceful encounter on the path to the Hogwarts Express when he was 11, your faces meeting the stone cold ground with a huff.

He couldn’t accept that this would be the culmination of a slow, painful unravelling and elimination of all he knew that defined his every day.

His soul was incredibly and seamlessly intertwined with yours, so intimately bound that he trembled at the thought of the scissors you wield, deadly afraid that they would sever it when he least expected it, leaving behind a scorching mark upon his very essence.

“I peeled my orange today.”

In the hushed atmosphere, your words hung in the air, an admission that crushed you to admit out loud. But from the anguished expression of the man opposite you, you could easily surmise that his emotions far surpassed yours and were nowhere near the ones that hit him at such a mundane divulgence.

The lake’s tranquil waves lapped against the shore in a rhythmic pattern. The serene waters played a soothing contrast to the tempestuous tide swirling in the recesses of his mind. He didn’t say anything for a while, the silence between you was heavy with unspoken shared vulnerability.

However, for you, surprising as it was, it was nothing but a statement now. The words transcended meaning except for a mere reflection of a newfound learning. Something you were proud of enough that you shared the thought with him.

At last, he spoke, his voice filled with subtle remorse that is obscured by a quirk of tenderness that he kept reserved for you. “You did? You didn’t spill the juice all over your hands?”

James was surprised at himself for the unexpected eloquence that flowed from within him, a symphony of words that were likened to a normal conversation between the two of you. Astonished at the way his voice remained unnervingly steady and held no tremors. It seemed as if the invincible, vice-like grip that threatened to crush his vocal chords vanished.

You cast your gaze upon him again, your eyes directly looking at his own. In that silent exchange, his vulnerability was laid bare, accompanied by a sense of helplessness in them.

Because unlike you, that sentence meant a lot more to him. Because for him, it meant that he could no longer tell you how much he loved you when he couldn’t peel oranges for you anymore.

Your impatient self wouldn’t be hovering next to him as his hands tenderly tore apart the tough skin of the citrus until the soft flesh of the fruit was revealed. The scent of sweet citrus filling the air and the twinkle in your eyes at the pleasing aroma as he splits it apart. The calloused flesh on his fingers that were a stark contrast to the way the figures were so gentle in separating each slice.

It meant that he could no longer ignore the pout that formed when you noticed how he gave you the better half.

James’ heart ached and throbbed in the worst ways possible at that bitter realisation.

“I love you.”

So despite knowing it was too late, he summoned the courage to tell you in the way you’ve always yearned for in the sidelines.

In reply, you whispered “I love you too.” accompanied by a genuine smile that felt natural.

He just didn’t expect your hurt to feel like this.

masterlist

#harry potter #marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #the marauders

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tarjapearce · 11 months

Text

Cast Away

Warning: ANGST, Emotional discomfort, mentions of miscarriage, controlled substance use, not a happy ending. So sorry for this in advance :<

"LYLA? you copy?" Jess spoke through the intercom as she stared at your holographic projection on her watch.

"Anomaly suspect identified, she's... buying tea?" Confusion was evident in the AI's voice as she pinpointed your exact location. "Huh, thought she was dangerous."

"We don't know that yet, she could ambush us at any-"

"She's coming your way!"

Jess' aracnid senses tingled as you approached, revving her motorbike she came straight at you, stopping a few meters away from your civilian looking self.

"We can do this the good way or the bad way" Her brown eyes narrowed but you just sighed and put your packaged drink down and held your hands up to her.

"L-Let's calm down, shall we?" You stepped closer but she just revved the engine again, suspicion rising and it made you stop walking. The hairs of your back stood as your senses tingled weakly, contrary to Jessica's.

"Please, I... just wanna talk, ok? I just wanna go home."

"LYLA" Jess spoke as the AI materialized and ran a scan through you.

"Her vitals are normal, heartbeats a bit wild, but no signs of unusual brain activity that dictates irregular behavior."

You glitched and slumped to the floor in pain. Then, you curled your knees closer and your arms around them to create a little space for you. Eyes seizing the woman in red , but stopped as her round belly came in sight. Your hands held tightly and soon your eyes tore themselves from her.

"Brain activity detected, serotonin levels just dropped." Lyla spoke through the intercomand Jess frowned again as you glitched once more with a whimper.

"She seems in distress, Jessica." Lyla kept speaking as the spider woman just looked at you, unsure on how to proceed. Anomalies were usually feisty, a menace, dangerous. But you, were the odd out. You just curled into a ball and sulked.

She exhaled tiredly and turned the motorbike off. Her tingling had stopped the moment Lyla gave a diagnose on your biometrics, but still kept her distance. She however, tapped some instructions before looking at you.

"I'll be there soon." Miguel spoke through her intercom. Jess' eyes were on you again and she crossed her arms above her belly, waiting.

"How far are you?" You broke the silence first.

"Six months to go."

You nodded giving her a weak smile.

"That's a beautiful baby bump."

"Thanks." she spoke curtly, but that didn't stop you from talking.

"Baby girl or boy?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but softened at the way your eyes looked at her grown belly. A sight she had seen before in her universe, a sight that only soon to be mothers gave her with awe, but yours were pained.

"I want it to be surprise."

You nodded as tears prickled the corner of your eyes.

"Universe 413 has the best supplements for pregnancy , or so I could... check." You spoke as you grabbed a small paper cup from the forgotten package and sipped it to warm yourself. The weather in universe 413 was cold, despite the blazing sun standing proud in the background.

"Might look into it. How did you end up here?"

"That's what I wanna know. I was about to meet my husband for a celebration... and I was just sucked in here. Fell on a pool, had to steal someone clothes and... Im just trying to warm up and go home." You rubbed your eyes to. prevent more tears to pile up.

"Ever since I got here I've been glitching nonstop and my powers are even more messed up. It's scary and confusing."

"Wait, how long have you been here?"

"Just a couple of days, but it feels forever."

As you finished your tea a new portal opened up, revealing a tall figure materializing before you. You were immediately locked up in what it seemed a electric-crystal like, custom made jail.

"Wha-"

"Easy there... We're taking you home." Jess spoke as she hopped on her bike once more and disappeared in the portal before giving a last glance your way.

"I'll get it from here." The sudden male and familiar noise sent chills down your spine. Tears flooded your already glossed eyes as the masked figure stared at you. His hand clenched upon the first tear rolling down.

--------

In the blink of an eye you were already in a place that made so many memories to flood in, most of them bittersweet.

"Lyla, access to this area is denied temporarily." Miguel spoke, his back still facing you

"Gotcha." Just as the voice had appeared, it vanished. The glass like prison vanished, just as his mask. You knew that stance more than anyone else, but still, it was the least of places you wanted to be.

"How..." he tried, and cleared his throat, sighing silently. "How you ended up in another universe?"

"A portal sucked me in. It appeared out of nowhere. Let me go home." His back tensed at your words, finally he turned to face you, but his frown deepened upon watching you. Your scent was different. Everything about you was different. Your gentle eyes were gone, and so your usual amiable self.

"What did you do?" Glaring, you held your stare at him as your jaw clenched.

"Inhibitors"

His eyes widened in disbelief for a moment before going to the usual scowl he always carried.

"Inhibitors, of course" He mumbled before throwing a furniture for it to land on Spider byte's station. It was just him and you. You didn't flinch at the explosive outburst, rather, braced yourself with an exasperated sigh.

"Why would you ever do that?! " His voice laced with anger and a soft bit of concern, "You know what they do to us."

"I want a normal life." you seethed

He scoffed and shook his head.

"You well damn know that is not possible for people like us."

"But that never stopped you. Right?"

His jaw tensed as his fist clenched.

"Right, Miguel?" You glared at him though his back faced you.

"There we go... Por dios, eres un hipócrita* You think you can always just do a fucking mess and expect shit just fix itself over time."

"Shut up."

"No. Fuck you, and fuck you very much. What did you expected? A welcome? Mariachis and a whole fucking celebration since you were finally owing up the consequences for what you did?. You left me, Miguel."

Your voice couldn't help but crack on his name.

"You left me when I needed you the most!."

"I was scared!" He roared, his fangs poking out from his mouth but you pushed him away, anger surpassed your fear, truly not thinking a rational approach.

"You think I wasn't?! I had just lost our baby. Our kid..." Miguel's eyes softened in pain and looked at you, "I didn't get to meet them, I didn't get to experience what was to be a mother, I didn't get to hold them for fucks sake!" Your voice finally breaking, both angry and anguished.

"But you didn't care. You just wanted to be a father so bad that..." He tried to reach for your hand, but slapped it away, rejecting him instantly as your eyes settled in the screen behind him, replaying the memories of himself with his daughter from another universe.

"You went to another fucking dimension to play house with someone else's family as I was trying to hold it all together over here! Cleaning up your mess! And guess what? It was never enough for you. I was never enough for you." Your voice had raised, yet it was crumbling as the knot in your throat grew tighter.

"That's not-" He growled but sighed

"I lost her too. And when I came back, everything was gone. Incluyéndote."

"You really though that I would wait for you after you ran away? You can't have or do both things. A person can only do so much, yet you made me feel so worthless."

"Your miscarriage was a cannon event. It was meant to happen. That's why I... ran away. I couldn't..." His voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"And you never told me?"

"I fucking didn't know, coño. You think I'd sit there and wait for shit to happen!?" He gestured as he spoke, "I could've risked everything to save our kid, but I knew about it too late! But I know that saying sorry won't change anything."

You held your breath and sat on a chair. Rubbing your face in frustration. But the feeling of his hand was almost electric as he took your hand to admire the pretty ring that adorned your finger.

He let your hand go.

" How long you've been married?"

"Five years." His frame slumped slightly

"Is he the reason you're killing your powers with inhibitors?"

"Yes and no. They hide your... tingling presence from others, ."

"That's why I never found you."

"I didn't want to be found. But now that you did-"

"He knows, right? About your-"

"He does. And he doesn't care."

"Why taking them, then?"

"Can't get pregnant if my blood levels show high toxicity thanks to the spider DNA. I... We, uh, we want a family."

He closed his eyes as he processed your words. He could picture you with a round belly, the weirdest cravings at the weirdest hours, just like the first months you had shared together. And now he had to watch all what his heart once desired, through the eyes of someone else.

"Just let me go, Miguel. I need to go back home."

"To him, you'd mean."

"Yes."

"LYLA" His voice echoed through the room as the AI appeared, her face was evidently on distress, as if she had heard everything but not on purpose.

"Yes?"

" Scort her out, tell Jess to take her home."

"Right away."

You stood and exhaled deeply.

"You'll be a great mother" His voice stopped you. It was soft yet, the resentment behind it, wasn't concealed as good as he thought.

"Thanks. You... seemed a wonderful dad." He looked your way, the frowning face so ever present, but it melted for a second .

"If you ever need-"

"We'll be fine. I've got this." His eyes seized you one final time, before casting them away from your form, and focused on the screens behind him. The AI guiding you through the building, neither of you looking back.

----------

Sorry if this feels odd or weird. I felt the urge to contribute to the bandwagon of our beloved Miguel ❤️✨

___

Por dios, eres un hipócrita* - My God you are such a hypocrite.

Incluyéndote*- Including you.

coño* - Latin American Spanish slang for "Fuck"

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst

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readychilledwine · 7 months

Note

Hello. First of all thank you for that post, it amazing and no one has ever responded. I would like you to write another story of az where they have a child and she and her child get kidnapped. And she dies trying to the child. Az goes bolistic. (If u don't want the reader to die it's cool with me. Whatever u think is best). Thank u and have an amazing day ahead.

Eeeeee. This made little pregnant brain go meeeeep. I kind of changed it up. I didn't want to actively kill the reader, because I can't imagine Azriel ever pulling himself back together after that. I just imagine if Azriel found someone he loved enough to have a child with, it would devastate him. So. I put a spin on it. if I squeeze my eyes shut really tight, I can create a world where he finds a mate and heals with her, but that wound would always be there, and that creates angst. So this is loosely based on the aftermath of your request. I'm sorry it isn't perfect.

Replacement

Warnings - trauma, mention of torture, Az being kind of an ass.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

The words echoed in your mind. You aren't his mother! Azriel had screamed them at you so carelessly. Just because Xiden had come to you for a booboo. Just because Xiden had called you "mommy" and Azriel had heard it. How dare you seriously think you can replace her? What the fuck is wrong with you?

You loved your mate's son. You loved that little illyrian more than you could form into words. Shock had fallen into your own bones after he called you mommy and kissed your cheek, though. That wasn't a threshold you had meant to cross. It was an unspoken line in the sand. You were not his mother, and Azriel had managed to remind you quickly and make you feel so small over one word uttered by a child.

Your relationship with the two started a few years ago. You were Nyx and Xiden's private nanny. Rhysand had met you once in a volunteer childcare center. The two of you had talked about everything you had found important in raising little ones, and the High Lord brought you to his mate instantly. They had been looking for childcare whose values aligned with theirs for weeks, and Feyre, with tears of relief in her eyes, hired you on the spot and made a pay offer you would have been stupid to turn down.

You spent time with the two young boys constantly. You three would spend countless hours giggling. Your life ranged from cooking with them, playing with them, snuggling them, and doing basic school lessons with them, but mostly teaching them how to be good fae, teaching them right from wrong, showing them how to love and respect themselves and others.

Nyx was wonderful. You adored the little heir. But there was something about the way Xiden would hold your hand when you three would go for walks, the way he constantly searched for your approval. You can't remember if it was the first night he ran to your guest room on an extended care stay and buried himself so deep into your arms and pillows that made you love him, or if it was the solstice gift he drew of you, him, and Nyx that hung framed in your living room that sealed the deal, but you loved Xiden. Unconditionally and unexpectedly.

You had finally asked Feyre one night about his mother when she came over to bring you a birthday gift from the Inner Circle and the boys. Azriel had appeared after she told you gently Xiden's mother had died. He had the little male in tow. He had his wings tucked in so tight around him and his little footie pajamas and that made your heart tighten as he ran to you.

The bond snapped for Azriel as you were kneeled down, holding his son and comforting him. It snapped for you when you woke up to the male shirtless in your kitchen, making breakfast for the three of you after Xiden refused to leave.

There was no going back after that. Xiden had a room at your apartment now. You had things in their home. You and Azriel told each other everything. Well, almost everything. He still had not told you about his former love or where she was. Xiden had done it late one night after another screaming fit woke him up and had him crawling into bed with you.

I watched momma die, you had tried to tell him it was just a bad dream. But when his eyes met yours and he shook his little head, you shattered into pieces. I watched it, miss y/n. I watched them hurt momma.

You had approached Azriel about it gently, holding his hand as he closed you out. You didn't push the issue at all, knowing he'd tell you when he was ready to. You had, however, pushed for him to enroll Xiden into therapy with Madja.

That was almost 8 months ago now, though. Tonight had been the breaking point. It stung, knowing the male you adored had all but dismissed his son's feelings, and your own, without giving you a single explanation of why. You had left his home in silence despite him calling for you. You had shielded yourself for the time and sealed the bond so deeply into your heart that you couldn't feel him, and he couldn't feel you.

You curled deeper into the bed, holding your blanket tight against yourself as you cried. You had no interest in replacing Xiden's mom. You never set that as a goal in this relationship. You just wanted to love Azriel, love his son. You wanted to support them, be there for them.

A loud knock came at your door, and you ignored it. Then another, more insistent than the next, and finally, your door just opened. You knew it was him, that he had picked the lock. He made his way to your bedroom, opening the door without knocking and moving to sit on the bed next to you.

"I'm sorry, y/n," his hand found your hip as he tried to get your attention. "I lashed out, and I shouldn't have. It's just- It's hard. Knowing she should be here, but isn't."

"I never wanted to replace her, Az. I never asked to fill that role." You voice sounded as broken as you knew it would. Hours of crying finally had begun to show damage.

"I know, love. I know."

"You won't even tell me what happened to them. All I can do is offer him whatever I can based on what I know, and then i get yelled at for it. How can I comfort him, help him, and support him when I don't know the full story. How can I support YOU when I don't even know what happened?"

His jaw tightened as he looked at you. He had been avoiding this conversation for too long, and now it had come to a head. "When Xiden was 4, he and his mother were visiting her parents in Illyria without my knowledge." Azriel looked up, blinking tears away as his throat grew tight. "I had made a few enemies in the camp they went to, and they took them. It took us 3 weeks to find them and track them down. By time we got there, she was gone. Xiden was.." His jaw tightened again. "He was traumatized. He had watched them rape, beat, and torture his mother for weeks. He was starved, sleep deprived, and disassociated from us completely. I only added to that trauma by slaughtering every single male in that place without thinking about the fact that he was right there."

"He wouldn't let me touch him for weeks. He ran to Rhys and Cassian instead of me. And it killed me." Azriel was biting his lip, shadows stilled and wrapped around him as his wings also pulled in. "I will never forget her lifeless eyes, her body, her bruised face. I will never forget my son's broken mind and soul. I will never forgive myself for what happened to them."

You sat up, running a hand up and down his back and between his wings. "It wasn't your fault, Az. She wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

He broke then, sobbing out a gentle I know as he broke down. "I just don't want him to forget her, how much she loved him, how much she sacrificed for him."

"He won't," you said firmly. "He never will. He's six, Az. He remembers his momma. He knows I am not her." Azriel nodded. "Az, you need to forgive yourself. You can't move forward, and Xiden can't move forward, with this cloud hanging here." Another silent nod as he leaned further into your touch. "You need to give yourself permission to be happy, to move on, and to take care of him without being scared of the world."

"It's just so hard," you nodded this time, kissing between his shoulder blades. "I loved her so fucking much."

"I know. Her picture is still up in your office. I make sure to dust it every day. You also have some of her dresses still. A few of her blankets." His shoulders fell, guilt flooding the now empty bond. "Don't," you whispered. "Don't feel guilty for loving the mother of your child. Don't feel guilty for wanting to honor her memory."

"Please come back." Azriel sounded broken at the confession he was about to make. "He can't sleep when you aren't there." You nodded, grabbing a bag to pack an outfit for tomorrow.

Azriel watched you moving through the room in silence. "I wanted to talk about you moving in," you froze on the spot. "Or us finding somewhere for the 3 of us."

"Az-"

"I fucked that up, though, didn't I?" You shook your head, rushing to him and throwing yourself onto him and the bed. "Or maybe I didn't?"

"Of course I want to move in with you two." Your response was muffled into his neck. You could feel his smile grow.

"Perfect." He said.

"Perfect." You agreed.

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #az x reader

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flemingsfreckles · 1 month

Text

Don’t Be Sad

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: based off of this request. You take your kids to watch their mom play in the gold cup semifinal.

Warnings: upset Jessie, not really angst though

WC: 4.8k

A/N: okay, so the timeline here is all kinds of messed up in terms of how old Jessie is, the fic revolves around the US/CAN game but she obviously doesn’t have kids already so just go with it. It’s called fiction for a reason. This is also my first attempt at writing based off a request/an idea that my brain didn’t come up with.

“James, slow down please.” You hollered at your oldest child as he ran a couple of feet ahead of you. You watched as he stopped immediately in his tracks as if he had been frozen in place. The brown curls on his head bouncing slightly. Once you catch up to him you extend your hand out for him to hold.

“You have to be careful, you can’t be running ahead, there’s a lot of other people here.” You often took your kids to watch Jessie’s games, but most of the time they were not this busy. The stress of temporarily having to operate as a single mom with an almost 3 year old and 1 year old was building on you. Your wife would not be thrilled to learn you let one kid run off 20 minutes after arriving at the stadium.

“Sorry, just want to see Mama.” He said, reaching up to grab onto your hand.

“I know kiddo, we’re going to see Mama, but after her game remember, we can’t go talk with her before. Remember what I told you in the car?”

“Mama’s at work and is warm.” He tried his best to remember what you had told him about how Jessie wouldn’t be able to talk to you before the game. You had explained that she would have to warm up and be focused and ready for the game. Trying to explain that the field was her work and she wasn’t allowed to just come hang out.

“Mama!” Your one year old daughter, Nora, squealed, waving her hands in the air. You were holding her on your hip, not wanting her to get trampled in the busy stadium, also not fully trusting her minimal walking skills. She had recently started taking a few steps alone, and while holding the hand of you or Jessie, she could walk for a bit. A crowd of people was not the time to practice walking.

“Yes baby, Mama’s at work. We can see her after the game.”

Gripping your son’s hand tightly you continued to make your way to the friends and family box that the Canadian Team had set up for the Gold Cup Match. You didn’t love being in the box, it made you feel far away from the game. You liked being up close being able to see your wife playing just a couple meters away. Not being able to complain too much though, it was so much easier with the kids to be in the box, they were free to roam safely and could occupy themselves with other activities if they were too restless to sit and watch Jessie play. It was also nice on afternoons like tonight where the weather was brutal, you were able to stay nice and dry.

You checked into the box, grabbing some juice boxes for each of your kids. You looked around, you had gotten to the stadium pretty early, meaning the box only had a few other people in it already. You moved to the corner with a small table, setting down Nora, and pulling out a chair for James to sit as well. You rummage through your bag, pulling out some toy dinosaurs and cars for James and a stuffed moose than Jessie had gotten for your daughter before she left for the World Cup. Nora insisted it went everywhere she went so you had to bring it with. Placing their juice on the table as well you stood up, looking over the field. You spotted your wife, doing some dribbling in a space all by herself. Not being able to help yourself, you watch her for a second before you feel a hand on the back of your shoulder and a voice calling to you.

“There’s our favorite daughter-in-law!” Jessie’s parents had arrived, her mom standing behind you, arms out for a hug.

“I’m your only daughter-in-law.” You remind her as you move into her arms. Jessie’s father, already kneeling down to talk with your children, opts to give you a wave, you reply with a wave and a quick hello before he goes back to playing with a dinosaur.

“How are you? How are the kids? I feel like we haven’t seen you in forever. What has it been 6-7 months?” She asked.

“Something like that.” The last time you had seen the Flemings was when they had come to visit after the World Cup. “The kids, they’re good. They’ve definitely been keeping me on my toes these days especially while Jess has been away for this tournament. They still haven’t grasped the concept that this is Jessie’s work though. James kept asking when he could see her, it’s just hard to explain at that age, they think she’s just playing like they do in the yard.”

“Yeah I can imagine they don’t quite get it,” Jessie’s mom trailed off turning to watch her husband with his grandchildren. You both stand for a minute watching Jessie’s dad who now had your daughter in his lap, still holding a dinosaur in one hand, play with your kids. “Gosh they both look so much like Jess when she was that age.”

Your children were practically spitting images of your wife. They were, after all, biologically her babies. You and Jessie had decided to do reciprocal ivf after careful consideration. Together you had chosen that you would be the one that would carry them, not wanting to take Jessie away from her career and love for football, meaning the kids would be genetically related to Jessie while you carried them for 9 months, letting you both be a part of their creation. Who could say no to the idea of little versions of Jessie running around, not you.

Both having her brown hair, James' hair had started to show the soft waves that resembled Jessie’s. They both had big brown eyes, which they used to get their way with you. It was hard to say no to them when looking into their eyes reminded you of the woman you were so infatuated and in love with.

The resemblance was obvious at birth with their beautiful eyes looking up at you and Jessie as you held them for the first time. The first time you really recognized how much they all looked alike was one afternoon when you got home from work, you walked into an empty house calling for Jessie and getting no response. It was then that you had heard giggling and joyful screaming coming from the backyard. You walked out to watch as Jessie chased James around the yard, following him with the garden hose as Nora sat on her hip. It seemed they had been playing in the sprinkler all afternoon, all 3 of them soaked. You stood on the deck and watched, just admiring your family for a second before Jessie caught a glimpse of you. She dropped the hose to come say hello and proceeded to hug you, soaking your clothes in the process. Your kids followed and you saw all three of them with the freckles that covered their pink rosy cheeks, just another trait they had gotten from their mother.

The game started shortly after, you had taken a seat on a bench with Jessie’s dad, your son seated between the two of you and your daughter crawling across your lap. You weren’t always the most relaxed watching your wife play. Watching her play was so fascinating and you loved watching your wife play the game she loved so much, but it stressed you out. She always joked to you that you were more nervous than her and all you had to do was watch. Today you were extra anxious. Not only was this a knockout game, but the pitch conditions were horrendous. Everytime Jessie would go for a ball you were just hoping she didn’t slip and end up injured. The US took the lead 20 minutes in, only adding to your anxieties. Halftime came and went, Canada still down. It wasn’t until only 10 minutes were remaining that Canada tied it. You had jumped up and shouted in response to the goal, watching Jessie jump on top of Jordyn in her celebration. You watched as full time played out, ending in a tie. You stood up excusing yourself to use the restroom, leaving James and Nora with their grandparents.

Extra time began just as you returned to the box, you made your way to the table in the back of the room to grab a water bottle and turned back to face the pitch. The sight in front of you warms your heart. It even takes away the stress of the game for just a moment. There were your two children, Nora sitting on Jessie’s mom’s hip, you watched as she babbled at her grandmother, only a couple of the sounds coming out being actual words, but Jessie’s mom was responding as if she was having a complete conversation. James was sitting on his grandfather's shoulders, watching and listening closely as his grandpa pointed and tried to explain the game to him. You and Jessie, mainly Jessie, had tried to teach him but that’s hard to do with a just under three year olds attention span. All he wanted to do was roll the ball around with his hands. You had joked that he’d grow up to be a keeper.

What really tugged at your heartstrings was the assortment of jerseys that all had on, a mix of new and old and a mix of home and away. Your wife’s family name on all of them, which was now your last name too, displayed proudly across the back, her number sitting just below. You felt so lucky, you felt lucky everyday with Jessie, but even in a moment when she is caught up elsewhere, you feel her love and everything she had brought you in this life. Two beautiful children, an amazing set of in-laws, the chance to experience things you could’ve never imagined. Thinking about how adorable it was you grabbed your phone and snapped a photo to show Jessie later.

The anxieties came back as you returned to your seat on the bench. You couldn’t help but notice how relaxed Jessie parents seemed watching their daughter play, maybe it just came with decades of experience that you didn’t quite have yet.

You watched as overtime continued. Feeling upset when the US scored again, only to feel ecstatic when Canada tied it up. Before you knew it, overtime had expired and the game was moving on to penalties.

You watched as the US player made her penalty, followed by a miss by Canada. A goal and another miss had happened for the Canadian side before your wife took the ball and headed to the penalty spot. The US having scored three of their four penalties taken meant if Jessie missed, the game was over, but if she made it they would keep kicking.

Watching Jessie, or any player, take penalties was one of your least favorite parts of football. You always felt bad if a player missed but then you also felt bad for the keeper if it went it. Jessie had laughed when you told her, claiming you just weren’t competitive enough, when it’s your team on the line you don’t feel sorry for the other side. You had told her that your competitiveness only applied to her and whatever team she played for, other than that you were more of a ‘hoe everyone has fun’ type person. You asked Jessie about how it’s such immense pressure being put on just one person on each team and how it feels to be in that spot. Penalties usually didn’t bother your wife, everyone knew it, she had been a penalty kicking machine most of her career. The pressure on her shoulders everytime she steps up, being expected to make it every time, no questions asked, is not something you ever wanted to feel.

You watched her line herself up, placing the ball. Seeing this routine done more times than you could count you had memorized her behaviors. You knew each of her steps before taking it, asking one day in the backyard to explain it to you as she was practicing. Your hands came to rest on your knees that were anxiously bouncing.

She stepped back, took a deep breath and started toward the ball. And then it was dark.

You had shut your eyes, not intentionally, it just happened. You didn’t see the kick, you only realized that it must not have gone in when the crowd erupted in cheers. You slowly opened one eye, peeking as if it’ll change what had just happened. First you see the US team running, dog piling on top of one another. Second seeing Jessie, her head hung, walking toward the bench, shaking her head, brushing off the teammates attempting to console her. Feeling your heart sink for her, knowing just how upset she must be.

“Mom why are they hurting each other?” Your son tugged your hand. He pointed at the pile of US players on the field.

“They’re not hurting each other, they’re celebrating kiddo, they won.”

“But Mama supposed to win.” His eyebrows pinched together, confused looking up at you.

“Well honey that’s not how it always goes, do you remember watching the World Cup?” You hadn’t actually let them watch the games live due to the timing of them but you had put them on during the day letting them watch their mom play. “Mama’s team didn’t always win, right? That’s what happens sometimes. And sometimes that makes her sad. She might be a little sad when we go to talk to her, okay?” He just nodded back at you.

As the stadium cleared out, you and Jessie’s parents, each of them holding one of your kids hands, headed down to the base of the pitch. Jessie was making her rounds, thanking the Canadian fans for coming, signing autographs and taking photos. You loved how even after a tough game she made time for those who came to watch her play. You watched as she continued to make her way headed toward you, not seeing you yet.

“Mama!” James shouted pointing at Jessie. “Mama, hi!” His hand waved in her direction. Hearing her son's voice, Jessie’s head snapped to the side with a smile on her face as she saw her family, you, her kids, her parents all standing together waiting for her. Giving a quick wave to James she turned her attention to the young fan in front of her. She finishes greeting and chatting with the few fans between you and her. As she wanders over, her eyes meet yours for a second and while she isn’t currently crying, you can see she must’ve been at some point. Her face has small tear streaks and eyes are a little red.

“Hi Mama, don’t be sad.” Your son says, making grabbing motions with his hands at Jessie.

“Hi buddy, I’m just a little sad right now, but I’ll be okay. I’m happy that I’m getting to see you and Nora.” She reaches over the wall, grabbing James and pulling him up and over, into her arms. She hugs him tightly and then puts him down at her feet.

“Mama, it's grandma and grandpa.” Your son points, as if Jessie hadn’t seen her own parents in front of her.

“Hi Mom, hi Dad.” She acknowledges them with a quick wave, knowing she’ll be able to fully catch up with them later tonight.

“Hi love.” She turns her attention to you.

“Hi,” moving toward her you reach over the wall giving her a quick peck on the cheek quietly talking in her ear . “I’m so proud of you, even if you don’t want to hear that right now. I love you.”

You pull back, hearing your daughter start babbling again, the words “Mom” and “Mama” coming out as she looks from you to Jessie. She’s standing both of her arms above her head holding onto her grandpa's hands

“You heard her, give me my baby.” Jessie laughs holding her arms out to take Nora. You bend down to pick her up and pass her into your wife’s extended arms. “Hi cutie,” she bounces her, making soft giggles come from her mouth.

You admired Jessie’s ability to put on a happy face for your kids, you knew she was upset about the loss, the lack of penalty called against her, her missed kick, the pitch conditions, but none of it showed as she held your daughter. She looked as happy as can be, as if she had just won the whole tournament. Even if it was a forced smile, you could tell it was, she still put forth the effort.

“Look at us all matching.” She’s talking to your kids. “Can you take our photo?” Now directing her question to you. She bends down to kneel next to her son, daughter still in her arms. She smiles big and tickles your son, getting him to laugh, his smile big in the photo.

“Oh man, we’re all matching. It looks like we’re going on a family reunion with matching shirts.” You see Jessie standing up looking between you and her parents. Everyone laughs at the realization, sure you knew you were all wearing her jersey but it being pointed out was humorous .

“Okay James I have to go, but I’ll see you later tonight okay?” Your wife is back kneeling down, talking to your son.

“Okay Mama, you did a good job at your work job today.” He tries his best to tell Jessie she played well. She looks at you with a questioning glance.

“I was explaining to him that this is your job, the game is work.”

“Gotcha.” She hands you Nora before lifting James over again. “I just have to do recovery. I think since we’re out we’re released as well so I don’t have to stay at the hotel. I don’t know I’ll find out though.” She quickly informs you.

“Alright babe, just shoot me a text and let me know. We’re just going back to the rental.” Deciding that more space and isolation would be better than a hotel with two small children, you had rented a small house for the week. It had a couple bedrooms and was perfect for letting the kids be free and not cooped up in a hotel.

You give Jessie a quick kiss on the lips, making it short and sweet your wife wasn’t big on PDA anywhere, let alone in front of fans and more importantly her parents. Jessie gave hugs to her Mom and Dad before saying goodbye to them as well.

All five of you headed back to the house, Jessie’s parents deciding to crash in the extra bedroom for the chance to see their daughter more than if they had gone to the hotel they had originally booked. It was only an hour later when the knock at the door told you Jessie had arrived.

Jessie’s dad greeted her at the door. You were occupied feeding Nora in the bedroom, while Jessie’s Mom was watching James while he ate. Through the cracked door you could hear your father in law talking to his daughter. He was telling her how proud of her he always is. You could tell she entered the kitchen as you heard James start talking to Jess. You knew her arrival meant he would be done eating, forgetting food was ever an option, just wanting to hang out with her.

“She’s in the bedroom feeding Nora, third door on the left.” Jessie’s mom was telling her daughter.

It was only seconds later that there was a soft knock on the door and Jessie peaked her head though. Her cheeks are still rosy from the game.

“Can I come in or do you want privacy?” Her concern regarding you being comfortable showing.

“Yeah babe, nothing you haven’t seen before, it just felt a little weird with your Dad there so I figured I’d feed her in here.” Nodding at her to come in. She opened the door to come through, closing it behind her. She moved next to you, placing a kiss on your lips, one on your forehead and grazing a hand across Nora’s head. She smelled of vanilla and coconut, freshly showered, her hair still wet.

“I love you, you’re such a good Mom.” She sits down on the bed next to you. Jessie loved watching you with the kids. She especially loved watching you do the more “mundane” tasks, like you were now, Nora resting in your arms as she fed, a task you had done hundreds of times. It felt incredibly intimate to share these small moments together and Jessie was so grateful that you let her be there.

Deciding this might be the only bit of time you get with Jessie alone, without your son or her parents hearing, you decide to check on her. Jessie isn’t the best about expressing her emotions especially in front of your son, she never wants to appear sad or disappointed. Nora was here but she was occupied and she was not yet at the age of picking up much from conversations that didn’t involve the words Mom, Mama, or milk.

“Are you doing okay?” Looking in her eyes, you see the beautiful brown color looking back at you.

“I’m disappointed.” She pauses before continuing, “it just felt like something we could’ve won.” Her head comes to rest on your shoulder and she lets out a sigh.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. Are you okay besides being just disappointed?” You wanted to make sure the missed penalty wasn’t weighing too heavily on her mental. Jessie knew exactly what you were asking.

“I think so, I chatted quickly with the sports psych while I was stretching about the penalty, I think missing the one earlier got in my head. I don’t feel much at all about it.” Nora decides she’s done feeding, pulling her mouth away and trying to squirm from your hold. “Here let me take her.” Jessie pulls her into her lap, allowing you to clean up and pull your shirt back down.

“It was really nice having you all there after the game.” Her voice was soft as she continued “it just made it hurt a little less getting to see them. They take my mind off the game so quickly.”

“They were both so excited to see you.” You wrap your arm around her waist, pulling her closer to your side. “I was excited to see you too.” Jessie hummed in response, her cheek still resting on your shoulder. You look down in her arms, your youngest was laying, her eyes fluttering as she fought off sleep. Moments later your son is knocking at the door.

“Mama, Mom come on, I want to play and make Mama not sad anymore” You open the door to find your son, a dinosaur in one hand and a small ball in the other. Jessie’s mom quickly following him down the hallway.

“Sorry, we were cleaning up the table from his dinner, we can take play with him if you two need some more time.” She reached out to move James away from the door.

“Oh, no we’re good. Nora’s about to be asleep.” You point back into the room where Jessie is sitting gently rocking your daughter. “We can come play.”

You and Jessie leave the bedroom, coming back to the living room to play with James. Jessie’s dad takes Nora who is sound asleep, claiming he doesn’t get to hold her nearly enough. You both sit on the floor as James hands you plastic animals and begins telling you both about the make believe scenarios he had come up with. You stay on the floor for a while, switching between the make believe world with your son and having regular adult conversations with your wife and in-laws.

Jessie is quiet, not contributing much to the conversation, focusing more on your son. Wishing you could just lift the weight off her shoulders and take away the disappointment she is feeling toward herself, you try your best to steer any conversation away from mentions of the game or football.

James lets out a big yawn as he makes his dinosaur trample a small city he had created.

“Someone’s sleepy.” You tease him.

“No I’m not!” He protests. Looking at you with his brown eyes, silently begging for more time. “Want to keep playing with Mama, it makes her happy.” Jessie shoots you a look, her eyes begging just like his were, mouthing ‘five more minutes’ her hand being held up to emphasize her point.

“Okay, but only a few more minutes bud. You and Mama can play in the morning.”

He seems content with the extra few minutes and the reminder that Jessie would be there in the morning and goes back to playing.

After the few minutes pass by, Jessie starts to clean up the toys, James helping her. You stand up taking Nora from her grandfather’s arms, she’s still fast asleep. You say goodnight to Jessie’s parents and carry your daughter into the office that you had turned into her temporary bedroom. Your kids had separate bedrooms at home and you wanted to keep it as similar as possible. Being able to move around Nora’s crib easily, meant James got the other bedroom in the house. You placed her softly, with a kiss on her forehead and a whisper goodnight. Jessie surprises you by wrapping her arms around your waist.

“She’s so perfect.” Jessie whispers in your ear. “You made two perfect babies.” She adds a kiss to your cheek.

“Technically you made them.” You whisper back to her, still looking at Nora sleeping.

“We both made them, those are our kids.” Humming in agreement, you feel Jessie grab your hand turning to leave the room. You enter James’ room, he had changed into his pajamas while you both were putting Nora down.

“Do you want Mama to tuck you in tonight?” You ask him, wanting to give Jessie the chance as you had tucked him in alone the past few days.

“Both!” He points to both you and Jessie. You each take a side of the bed as he climbs in. You tuck him in, each giving him a kiss and telling him you love him and to not let the bedbugs bite.

Finally back in your bedroom, you and Jessie get ready for bed, each making a trip to the bathroom to brush your teeth, wash your face, change into sleeping shirts and shorts. You come out to Jessie sitting on the edge of the bed, you notice tears on the brims of her eyes.

“Hey, baby what’s wrong.” Rushing in front of her, you kneel down, cupping her face in her hands.

“Nothing, I'm okay.” She blinks hard, clearing the tears that were tempted to spill over.

“Jess, it’s okay if you’re upset, you can be upset in front of me.”

“I know.” There’s a pause and you’re not sure if she’s going to continue or not. You watch as a tear manages to make its way out, rolling down her cheek, you extend your thumb to brush it away. “I just, I feel like I let people down. It’s silly I know, it’s a game, but, I don’t know. I’m just disappointed in myself.”

“It’s not silly Jessie.” Grabbing her hands in yours. “You’re allowed to feel however you want about the game, you’re allowed to feel disappointed. You have to remember you’re just doing your best. Just like everyone else in that game and everyone else in the world, you’re doing the best you can. That’s all you can do.” Not sure if she’s even really listening to your words but wanting to get your point across you continue, “Jess people miss penalties all the time. It’s how it goes, you weren’t the only one to miss tonight. This isn’t all on you. You played so well this whole tournament.” You stand up as your knees started to ache, Jessie was the professional athlete in this family, not you. Deciding to sit on the bed next to her you wrap an arm around her shoulder and lean in.

“I hope you know how proud I am of you.” Hoping she can accept the compliment, she nods at you. The two of you sit in silence on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, just enjoying the quiet after the long day. You’re reminded of something from earlier in the day, reaching for your phone on the bed next to you.

“I know it’s not going to fix how you’re feeling about the game, but look at this.” You slide open your phone, open your photos to show Jessie the image you took of her parents with your kids. “Look at our family.”

She grabbed the phone from your hand, examining the photo. For the first time since the game had ended you saw a genuine smile come across her face.

“That’s our family.”

#jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt #canwnt x reader #portland thorns

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bluehwale · 1 year

Text

mythical beings! ateez as your boyfriend

pairing. ateez x reader

genre. mdni, crack! (except for yunho bc it's a forbidden love! trope and i take that seriously) fluff? a dash of angst if you squint. smut (for san bc he's an incubus! rawr)

warnings. MYTHICAL BEINGS INFO INACCURACIES (i'm sorry), grammatical errors SMUT! unprotected sex (don't do this), creampie, corruption kink if you squint, overstimulation, the term 'good girl' lmao, yea i think that's it (it's my first time writing smut don't hv high hopes)

word count. almost 4k whoops i got carried away

note. idk what possessed me when i wrote yunho's part so apologies if it's too long and very much plot-y<3 ++ my brain's still muddled from a week of midterms and im still new to writing so pls lower ur expectations before pressing the keep reading button thanks xx (my asks are always open! ++ feedback would be greatly appreciated)

masterlist

hongjoong — demon

honestly the coolest demon ever

he'd be so nonchalant about his demon activities that it would unsettle you sometimes

"hey babe, just got home?"

"yeah, had an emergency meeting with the devil about potentially crashing heaven's weekly parties, no biggie. how was your day? :-D"

likes to grumble about how hell is so overpopulated that it feels hotter than it actually is

he's just a demon with a tough exterior but that all comes crashing down when he comes back home to your arms

would do ANYTHING to make you happy

one time you were both cuddling on the sofa just absentmindedly enjoying hongjoong's playlist played throughout the house when you suddenly asked,

"joong, aren't demons supposed to have horns?"

he looked at you and thought for a second, "hm, i'm pretty sure only the devil has horns. i guess that's another myth debunked"

you returned his gaze with mock disapointment, jutting out your bottom lip in a pout. "that's a shame. i think it's really hot."

the next day he shows up with a red devil horn headband on his head

...

"joong, what is this--," you let out a laugh when he turns to face you with a serious look on his face

the blush on the apples of his cheeks redden when you continue to laugh with the brightest grin that crinkles your eyes

he doesn't mind that he's making a fool out of himself as long as he gets to see you like this

"they were 50% off in the costume shop!"

he feels a smile creep into his face when you laugh a little bit harder

seonghwa — vampire

you first met seonghwa at a random halloween party

he was surprise surprise !! dressed as a vampire, and you were dressed as kim possible (call me beep me if you wanna reach me)

he just suddenly went up to you and complimented your outfit

so you were like, "thanks!! :-D i like your fangs, they look so real!"

and he just went, "hey thanks! they are real :-D"

"what :-D"

anyways!!! you started dating not too long after that <3

he'd just be one of the most dramatic vampires out there

he's the type to dramatically hiss and cover his face when you draw open the curtains in the morning

"gAaAaaGHh the sun!!!!! i'm burning!!!!!!!!"

and you'd just stand there like ...... "seonghwa you have a morning class today"

(yes, vampire! seonghwa goes to uni)

"can you believe this place doesn't have any vampire-friendly mirrors?? it's 2022!!! D-:<"

:-|

lives and breathes the twilight saga

one time you were walking home together and you noticed his skin sparkling

and no it's not the sun shining on him or the natural glow you'd get from sweat or oily skin because his skin was particularly BLINDING

he was excitedly talking about how his favorite professor complimented him on his recent project when you interrupted him, "hwa, wait a minute--"

three of your fingers swipe at his nape and actual arts & craft glitter came off his skin

"hwa, did you actually try to edward cullen-ficate yourself???"

pink dusted his cheeks and he could only abashedly scoff while trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with you

"psssshhh, what?! noooo,,, aha... what kinda weirdo would do that ahaha, whaaat? that's so weird.."

and then he used his super speed to run back to your shared appartment leaving you to walk back home ALONE >:-(

but besides that, he's super sweet

would let you leave fingerprint stains on his glass cabinets that encase his virginity corner star wars lego collection

HE LOVES YOU THAT MUCH OKAY

yunho — angel

he doesn't have a visible halo over his head but everyone just knows that he's an angel

sweetest, purest dude out there

but yunho kinda feels... trapped

his angel wings became this constant admonition that he has to be selfless and to always do "good"

i'd just imagine everyone telling yunho to stay away from you (a fellow angel) because you're labelled as this reckless troublemaker

but he just can't help being interested in you

so he made effort to know you and keep you close and in turn, you taught him that he doesn't have to live in fear of stepping out of the line sometimes

that it's okay to put yourself first

you both would sneak away to earth and pose as humans to have fun and abandon your duties for a while

he finds himself cherishing each and every moment he spent with you; exploring things the other angels would frown upon, but it didn't matter

so it didn't surprise him when he realized that he's utterly in love with you

his angel wings fluttered sporadically when you softly mutter your love to him in reciprocation with the beautiful smile he's known to love

when you made love for the first time, it was filled with shy giggles and soft reassurances because you're each other's firsts

you neither yunho cared about the other angels avoiding you and talking shit about you two. you're both happy and in love!!

but of course, heaven has its rules

and fate hits you with the truth, that you both can't be together, when you're held back from running to your lover that has both fear and tears in his eyes as black ink slowly engulf his once pure angel wings

a fallen angel, that's what they call you both. angels banished from heaven with your memories wiped and your wings rendered useless as compensation for falling in love

"i'll find you," he said. his voice remained sure yet frail in the midst of your own sobs and the chaos surrounding you both, but you heard him loud and clear. his watering eyes take in your trembling state and it breaks his heart to see you cry and try to fight against the restraints keeping you away from him because he knows that guilt is eating you alive

he knows that you blame yourself for letting him in, for falling in love with him, and for bringing this inevitable consequence upon him

but he knows that he'd do it all over again in a heartbeat, even if it leads to this very same ending

yeosang — fae

a tsundere! fae omg i have the vision i see it

he acts cold and indifferent towards you but all you wanna do is grab his attention!!!!!

as humans and faes don't really get along, your group of friends are different and they kinda disagree with you both interacting

but you don't really care because you mayhaps have a crush on him :3

he's really good with magic

you'd ooh and ahh whenever he does something with his magic and his cheeks would go red while he brushes it off with, "it's nothing" (and you're like no!! it's cool!!! and he would blush harder)

he knows you have a crush on him because a) it's obvious, and b) you've confessed to him multiple times (his replies always start with a "sorry, but.." and you would always reply with "it's okay, i just want to tell you. i'm not asking you to return your feelings:-)"

but lately you're kind of tired with the unreciprocated feelings you have for yeosang because.. well, you just feel pathetic

so one day you made it your mission to stop having feelings for him!!!!!!

yeosang noticed because you would avoid him like the plague

he was walking down the hallway when he saw you and was about to greet you when he saw you run to hide behind a trash can that doesn't even cover your entire figure

he was just like .... ok see you later i guess?

and this continued on for weeks! to the point where he feels down because he doesn't have his favorite human around and maybe because he has a crush on you too

so he dragged his ass to the nearest supermarket for humans and ignored all the weirded stares he got from other shoppers and bought all of your favorite snacks and drinks that are listed at the top of his head

he placed them all nicely in this cute paper bag and left it at the desk you always sit in for one of your shared classes

the happy grin on your face when you peeked at its contents lifted his mood even though you wouldn't know it's from him because he purposely left the sender anonymous in the small note for you

but you immediately know that it's him because you've listed these specific snacks only to him, plus the sweet wording of the note just gave him away (you knew it that he's actually sweet inside, you knew it!!)

anyways,, the reason why yeosang is so hesitant to make a move on you is because relationships between humans and faes are disapproved of:-( he doesn't want you hurt just because you're seen with him

but one day he saw you being circled by a bunch of faes and there's this look on your face that screams 'help!'

he felt his legs move to push his way to get to you before he fully registered on what's going on

one of the faes reached out to shove off yeosang when he put himself in between you and them to protect you. "man, why the fuck are you defending a human?"

"she's my girlfriend."

so yeah all fucks flew out the window that day and you both decided to start dating:-D

he's still into the tsundere act but you like to tease him because this man gets flustered over the tiniest things lmao

you'd like bicker lazily over something and you'd go, "mhm, but you love me don't you?"

and his ears, cheeks, and neck would get so red as if he's got the worst case of asian flush lmao and he'd look around the whole room just to avoid your gaze

"shut up" *still blushing*

san — incubus

you accidentally summoned him when you were trying to sell your soul to the devil in exchange for a 4.0 gpa

he just suddenly appeared on top of your coffee table lying down on his side with his elbow propping up his head

and you just kinda went, "ok great, how do we do this thing? do i have to sign papers or smth???"

he just looks at you all confused like ??? we don't need any of those, we can just fuck

and you're like WHAT! >:-o and he's like ... what do you expect from summoning an incubus? :-|

"A WHAT???"

anyways, the misunderstanding was set straight and san sheepishly asked if he could stay over for just 1 night because he can't go back to hell just yet

(he can actually go back to hell just fine but he just can't bring himself to face incubi! ateez's teasings for being rejected for the first time ever)

and you thought hm why not

he somehow stayed over for more than just that one night and then you guys fell in love!!!

it all started after the first night when you cooked pancakes for breakfast

san groggily woke up from the couch when he smells the strangely appetizing scent of whatever you're making

"oh great, you're awake! good morning!" you greet, while the raven haired boy dazedly blinks at your sight bustling in the kitchen before letting out a raspy 'morning' in return

you hear his feet clad in the thick fuzzy socks you lent him pitter patter against the hardwood floors as he made his way towards you with a yawn, "what are you doing?"

"i'm making us breakfast :-)"

demons don't eat actual food but san would hate to see your smile falter even the tiniest bit at his rejection of this unfamiliar food that you call 'pancakes'

his plate of pancake is cutely decorated with fresh berries and a smiley face drawn with maple syrup on top of the first layer of pancake

(he can't help but smile when you impatiently gesture at him to take a bite while your own plate of pancakes sit in front of you, forgotten)

you show him how to use his cutleries properly and he finally eats a bite of the pancake

"is it good?" you ask nervously, wide eyes waiting to catch his reaction

his eyebrows furrow as he shut his eyes at the pleasant sweetness overcoming his taste buds, "oh my god, i could eat this every day. are you a professional chef or something?"

your eyes sparkle as you grow flustered over his compliment, replying with a timid 'no' and san thinks you just might be sweeter than the maple syrup coating his tongue

he's the sweetest bf ever; would exaggerate his reactions at anything you do because it would elicit a cute giggle that would bring a smile to his face

but yknow

don't forget that he's an incubus

"You're doing so good for me."

San likes it when you're laid out all bare underneath him, hair fanned out prettily on the bed, with your cheeks flushed and your eyes threatening to flutter shut.

"Baby," he taps lightly against your cheek, momentarily distracting you away from the heavenly feeling of him dragging against every inch of your walls as he continues to snap his hips to meet yours. "Hey, eyes on me."

A whine spills out of your lips as you try and fail to force your eyes open, back arching and eyes rolling back instead, earning a tsk from San as he continues to bury his cock deeper by forcing your aching thighs apart and against your chest.

His thumb caresses your swollen clit lightly, your eyes immediately widening as you gasp at the overstimulation from the previous orgasms he's taken just from eating you out. Your body trembles as you wail underneath him, reaching out to grip his arm that prevents your thighs from closing shut. San groans when he feels your pussy clench tightly around him.

"There you are," he lazily smirks, cupping your cheek and giving you a peck on the lips when he finds that your dazed gaze is on him. "Fuck, you look so pretty like this."

"So wet, so tight, so pretty for me," his measured thrusts turns harsh as he fucks up into your dripping cunt with your moans and bouncing tits egging him on.

"I'm- I'm gonna cum!" you cry out as San fondles your clit, reveling in the tight grip of your pussy and the dirty words that come out of your sweet mouth as you gush uncontrollably around his cock.

San groans loudly as his hips sloppily thrusts a few more times before he fills you up with his second load of the day, twitching and spurting his thick warm cum inside you as he holds you while he comes down from his high.

He slips his softening cock out of your battered pussy, cream immediately leaking from your centre and dripping down your ass and inner thighs as you whine at the loss.

"God," San moans as he drags two of his fingers over your weeping cunt, his other hand softly pressing against your lower belly. He slides his fingers over your dripping slit, gathering his cum leaking from your hole to your clit, rubbing and pinching.

With a cry, your thighs shake as tears well up in your eyes at the feeling of another orgasm that washes over you, swollen cunt clenching around nothing that has his cum oozing out of you. You whimper at the overstimulation, batting away his hand that continues to brush over your inner thigh.

San pulls you into a tender kiss as he gently caress your cheek and finally leans back to catch his breath. His eyes glaze over your fucked out state and he smiles at the fond look you give him.

"Such a good girl," he softly praises, carefully cleaning you up with the warm cloth he took from the bathroom. You hum in reply, shutting your eyes with a content smile at your lips. You can't see him, but he grins anyways.

"I'm a lucky man."

mingi — werewolf

i kid you not, this mf would deadass unashamedly howl in public at random

"it's who i am, yn."

are you embarrassed? yes.

will you ever let him know that you feel absolutely mortified whenever strangers stare at you after your boyfriend basically barked?

never.

he might be a big ! absolutely not bad ! werewolf but he's actually so soft >:-( especially for you

gives the best hugs

he's just so big and warm which is why you always look for him to cuddle

gives the funniest reactions like fr,, which is why you LOVE to tease him

"mingi," "mhm?" "...you know that i'm always here for you right? i.. i won't judge if you,,, idk, want to keep your ears and tail in your human form--" "yn, for the last time, I'M NOT A FURRY"

omg you showed him the werewolf ripping shirt meme and he went error 404 because he doesn't know whether he should laugh or cry ("YN IS THIS HOW HUMANS SEE WEREWOLVES???? SOB")

would embody jacob's iconic lines from twilight

"bella ¬‿¬ where the hell have you been loca? ¬‿¬"

"..."

but yeah he's such a playful boyfriend but also has his sensitive moments

and he's such a sappy romantic

would randomly bring home a bouquet of flowers for you

"what's this for? i'm pretty sure our anniversary was two months ago"

"just passed by a florist and i thought of you :-)"

"also, our anniversary was three months ago, OH MY GOD YN HOW COULD YOU FORGET" "I'M SORRY, IT WAS JUST A MISCALCULATION!!!"

yeah don't mess with the math genius! werewolf because he will correct you in any chance he gets

(i'm so sorry idk anything about werewolves so i can't really take this seriously T_T)

wooyoung — mermaid

found out he can grow legs whenever his tail dries and that's how he ventured to land!

he's always been interested with humans so when he saw you hanging around in the beach one day, it was love at first sight

he gets so excited over every human activity, it's endearing

"woah, what is that?? :o" "oh, that's a guy riding a bike" "what's a bike?"

endless questions about anything human related but you patiently answer each and every one of them

you're basically his tour guide

you introduced him to movies and his favorite is the little mermaid

he's so serious about it

like literally you have to remind him to blink because he would not let his gaze stray from your tv

"ariel is so me. minus the overprotective dad. and the 6 sisters. and ursula. and probably the talking fish and crab"

"how can the evil sea witch be so EVIL? THIS IS CRUEL"

"hey i want a pet dog like max! :0"

"ERIC JUST KISS THE FUCKING GIRL--"

would 100% reenact the fork hair brushing scene

would also 100% tell secrets about the ocean to you

"yeah the bermuda triangle thing? it's a lair to this one mean kraken"

but sometimes he would say the most untrue stuff ever like

"aquaman is real." "no he's not, woo. he's a dc superhero" "no, really, he's real. we've raced against each other once or twice" "mhm, whatever you say"

loves to watch the sunset in the beach with you with his head on your lap, your fingers running through his hair, and his toes curled in the sand

he likes it. a lot.

but he has to make sure that he doesn't touch wet sand because poof his tail would pop out

likes to chill in your bathub with the end of his tail flapping water at you

also likes to swim with you in the ocean late at night, when no one's around, with his arms wrapped around your waist and sneaking in atleast a hundred kisses while you giggle because the scales of his tail tickles your legs

the cutest mermaid! boyfriend ever

jongho — demigod

would bet my left kidney that he'd be the son of apollo or athena

but let's go with apollo because his vocals man goddamn

anyways

you're the child of nike, the goddess of victory

jongho sees you around a lot in camp half-blood, you're well known because of your bright and outgoing personality that almost everyone gravitate towards

your peers, jongho included, also admire you for your bravery in battles. although he's never been in one let alone see you fight in an actual life-or-death situation, he sees enough from how you always gracefully win capture the flag with a infectious grin on your face

unlike you, he likes to keep to himself at most times, preferring to spend his time alone to write music or poetry

which is why it's hard for him to muster up the courage to try and be your friend

he didn't dwell on it for too long, accepting that maybe he's just meant to stand at the sides and admire from afar when it comes to you

one night, he was in his usual secret spot; a small clearing near the lake with a hammock tied between two towering trees hidden from sight, when you stumbled into his view with tear stained cheeks

"oh, uh, i'm sorry," you sniffled, rubbing your nose with the paws of your sweater. "i didn't think anyone would be here. i'll go--"

"you can stay. i don't mind."

and that's how you go on to tell him about how battles leave a toll on you and this is your way of taking a break once in a while

he listened to you attentively, actually paying attention to what you have to say and even wiped your tears with the sleeve of his hoodie

that night was then filled with genuine laughter as jongho tried his hardest to cheer you up

"but in all seriousness, i'm here for you. whenever you need me."

it started a whole routine of you both meeting up every single night in that spot to either talk about everything all at once or to just enjoy each other's presence in a comfortable silence

he eventually shares his writings with you and you kinda went, "dang i'm in love with you"

and he's like ★_★ omfg no way

he's the type of bf who doesn't outwardly show his affection for you but makes up for it by caring about you down to the most trivial miniscule detail about you

definitely an act of service guy

would stop by the training grounds where you are when it's raining with an umbrella at hand

"come here, you'll get sick" "i'm the child of the goddess of victory, jongho" "doesn't mean you can't get sick!!!! ＼(º □ º l|l)/"

you ask him to sing for you all the time because his voice is soothing and he would blush whenever you compliment him hehe

the other kids at camp would stare enviously at you two holding hands while skipping to your designated spot because wow you two are so in love and everyone wants that kind of relationship

2K notes · View notes

poguemunson · 1 year

Text

The Morning After

Eddie Munson x Reader (1.3k)

note: i haven’t written anything for months so i am a little rusty so please take it easy on me. if you have any requests please send them my way!

buy me a kofi masterlist

Summary: You try to sneak out the morning after sleeping with your best friend, Eddie because you think he will regret it.

Warnings: suggestive themes (mentions of sex), slight angst, insecure!reader, mentions of alcohol, misunderstanding

******

This is not your room.

This is not your bed.

That is, however, your clothes littered on the floor.

That is your best friend, sleeping next to you, equally as naked as you are.

You are never drinking again.

Running a hand through your hair, you begin to curse yourself. You’re trying to remember the events that took place the last night, pieces of memories coming together hazily.

You had turned up to Eddie’s trailer, upset and in need of comfort and reassurance. You had yet another failed date and you were feeling like shit about yourself. When you thought about the last time you genuinely felt happy, of course, your best friend of seven years was the first person to come to mind.

What you didn’t plan on was the pair of you getting wasted and hooking up.

Sure, the reason the dates were failing was that you were head over heels for your best friend. But your drunk brain decided to go for the kiss and let fate take over the rest.

“Fuck, fuck,” You murmured to yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was wake Eddie up with your panic.

Did Eddie just feel sorry for you? Did he just feel obligated to go through with something with you because he believed you couldn’t handle another failed experience with a boy?

That had to be it.

During the seven years of friendship, Eddie had never shown any interest that wasn’t platonic. He was flirty but that was just Eddie, right?

You had to get out of there.

You quickly dressed as quietly as you could. The last thing you wanted was to face Eddie. You wouldn’t be able to handle seeing the look of regret etched onto his face.

Eddie would never actively go for someone like you. You’re his best friend. The one stable thing, apart from Uncle Wayne, that he had in his life and you had screwed that up for him.

You spared a glance at Eddie. He was still seemingly asleep. He looked peaceful, you could’ve sworn there was a slight smile on his lips. You tried your hardest to try to remember him this way.

Maybe Eddie wouldn’t want to see you anymore after this. Would he do that?

You couldn’t begin to think about it. You pushed yourself out of the room, sending a thank you to whoever upstairs made sure that this event happened the day Uncle Wayne wasn’t home from the night shift yet.

Stepping out of the trailer, you closed the door as quietly as you could. You cringed when it made a loud squeak.

“Please don’t wake up,” You whispered. You would cross your fingers if your hands weren’t shaking so badly.

You waited a minute to see if you could hear any movement in the trailer, trying to determine whether to make a run for it or not. Once you were sure the coast was clear, you turned to leave, freezing when you caught the eyes of one of Eddie’s neighbours.

Maxine. You recognised her as one of Dustin’s friends. You had seen her around him a few times in town.

You put your hand up in an awkward wave to which she raised an eyebrow at you in reply before she made her way into her trailer. You were just praying she didn’t decide to call up Dustin to let him know that she had witnessed his babysitter doing the walk of shame.

Guess today wasn’t your day.

You stopped in your tracks once you felt the cold water drop land on your arm.

Yeah. Today wasn’t looking up apparently.

Looks like you get to enjoy a nice walk home in the rain. Fantastic. Just fantastic.

“You’re still here.”

You almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice. He had always been good at sneaking up on people. Of course, it helps when you’re zoned out, focusing on the horror of a day you’ve been having. It doesn’t look like it’s even 9 AM yet.

“Yeah,” You let out an awkward laugh, turning to face him but making a conscious effort not to make eye contact, “Was just about to head off.”

He was now dressed. His hair was a mess from his sleep and their night together. If you closed your eyes, you could probably still imagine how it felt to run your fingers through it.

“Run away, don’t you mean?” Eddie questioned. You hadn’t heard it before but there was no mistaking the hurt in his tone. You finally met his gaze.

“I’m not running away,” You replied.

Eddie scoffed, “Okay, so what is this then?”

He raised a hand to gesture to you standing outside his trailer. You could practically feel your throat go dry.

“I didn’t let anyone know I wasn’t coming home last night. I don’t want to worry anyone,” You told him. It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the whole truth. You just didn’t want to own up to the fact that you were ferried that if you stayed around Eddie any longer, you would start apologising.

“Just because I’m yet to graduate high school doesn’t mean that I’m that dumb,” Eddie shot back. You opened your mouth and then closed it before taking a deep breath.

“I know you’re not dumb.”

“So tell me the truth,” Eddie leaned his back against the entry of the trailer.

“I didn’t want to face you,” You admitted.

“And why’s that?” Eddie countered.

“I didn’t want to see you mad at me. I didn’t want to stand here and do exactly what we are doing right now because it’s mortifying. I get that it means I’m running away from my problems but from where I’m standing right now, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” You stated with a shake of your head.

“You’re that embarrassed?” Eddie quizzed. You let out a scoff.

“I’m sorry that last night happened. I get that you regret it, okay? We don’t need to have this conversation. You don’t feel that way about me. End of story,” You told him.

Eddie’s eyes widened a fraction before laughing loudly at you. You have never been a violent person but right now? You wanted to clock him.

“Can you stop laughing at me?”

“You beautiful idiot,” Eddie laughed, running a hand down his face. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you complimenting me or insulting me?” You asked. Eddie shook his head in disbelief before taking a step closer to you.

“Both,” He replied before cradling your face in his hand and pressing his lips to yours. Your brain was going haywire because what the fuck?

His lips were so soft. Somehow softer than they were last night and you couldn’t help but completely melt into him.

Before you remembered.

“Wait,” You pulled away from him, his lips already trying to chase yours, “I don’t understand.”

Eddie laughed, his hand going to your cheek again to ensure you looked him in the eyes.

“I thought you regretted last night,” Eddie said.

“Why the fuck would I- Oh.”

You were both idiots.

“So… you don’t regret it?” You questioned.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been in love with you since we were kids,” Eddie informed, beginning to trail kisses down your neck, your eyes fluttering close at the feeling, “The only thing I regret is that I don’t remember everything.”

You pulled away with a smile, reaching for his hand and tugging him back towards the opened door of his trailer.

“I say we get a do-over.”

Eddie’s lips curled into a grin before wrapping his arms around your waist to hoist you over his shoulder to get you back into his room faster.

“What are we waiting for then?”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x y/n

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divinehedons · 9 months

Text

lost and found

pairing: soft dom!joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~4k

summary: your arrangement with joel miller is built on mutual trust. what happens when, in the throes of hedonism, he himself breaks that trust?

warnings: this is a dark, EXPLICIT fic, minors do not interact! no outbreak au, so many unrequited feelings, angsty angst angst angst, explicit p-in-v sex, dubious consent, use of a safeword, teeth-rotting aftercare and fluff, brief use of a sex toy, bath sex, brief depiction of make-up sex, somewhat (definitely) blasphemous and makes a mocking of religion (i'm not sorry :>>>>)

note: thank you very dearly for reading! please let me know what you think and what you see next; asks are very much welcome, reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

“See, this is why you need me, sweet girl. Because otherwise, who’s goin’ to make you feel this good?”

It was those words that follow you every day since you’ve begun such a tumultuous connection with the Texan contractor. Those words that stayed with you when you woke up from his tongue between your legs after the first night you fucked together. The words that stayed together when you made an arrangement. When you finally submitted to him.

You meet him in a shared apartment, in darkness, as well-put as could be from a day of work, kneeling with your wrists presented before you. By the end of the night, moments before he drops you off, he looks over your smeared lipstick, your neck littered with blood-red hickeys of his doing, wrists red. He'd look you over, then he'd smirk, waiting for you to turn back and wave goodbye. Only then will he have the last word. "See you next week, darlin'."

–

You met him at trivia night, glasses on, glass of whisky in hand, mere purveyor to the chaos you were causing. You, who he noticed to be naturally shy, sipping away at some colorful drink the weeks before, standing actively on your toes as you excitedly whisper the answer to a question. He saw, too, how happy you got, jumping on your feet when your little band of three pulls ahead in the game. But what caught his attention was how good you are. How you immediately sat down when your team asks you to, how you willingly go for drinks at the bar, not five feet from where he sat, emanating warmth from excitement.

You were so goddamn willing, he had to adjust himself once or twice, pictures of your submission burnt into the crevices of his brain. So when he had the chance, he had to take it.

“How did’ya know so much about the sixties, sugar?” he asked as you squeezed into the seat beside him, barely managing to steal it from the crowded bar. When you looked at him, he swore he almost saw your eyes gloss over from shyness. You just had to be adorable.

“Oh! Well… I spent a lot of time with my grandparents.” You look down, fiddling with your drink before chuckling. “I didn’t know we were getting so much attention.” He swore he almost felt his cock twitch in his pants. Already, you were being so good, he physically had to swallow down the images of you happily bent over his desk with the rest of his whisky, throat burning be damned.

He realized, quite easily, that if he wanted you, he was going to have to be creative about it. And if he really wanted you, he had to put the effort in showing you he could be trusted; that he’ll take care of you. So he smiles, a calm smirk accompanying his salt-and-pepper beard, the warm crinkles in his eyes as he stills himself. He takes a deep breath, and it becomes so easy.

The night ends with you pressed against the door of your apartment, panties pushed to the side as he breathes whiskey into your face while you chuckle nervously. “D’you want it, sugar? C’mon, I need some words…” He almost wished he could take a photo of your face the moment he spears you open with his aching cock, cunt already fucked out by his fingers during the feverish truck drive where you almost get him lost from hazy directions.

He teaches you your safe words that night. An analogy of stoplights– halting reds, questioning yellows, and bright green gos.

He constantly checks in, and all you tell him is to go, go, go.

–

He likes it when you call him sir, a remnant of his Southern manners. Your cheeks warm up whenever you say it. He noticed when he had begun to cup your face, asking you to tell him what you wanted.

Just you, sir. All you, please…

He’s so indulgent about it, so eager to give you the pleasure you so desperately wanted without saying anything. But sometimes, that primal urge to own you manifests itself, as well. He particularly enjoyed the act of overstimulation. Just the sight of you, cockdumb and broken, limbs trembling from the way he manipulated the pleasure from your body… how could he ever resist? It’s why he was so willing to split an apartment with you; one meant for your excursions and hedonistic urges; the house of desire itself with a king-sized bed and a hot tub to defile.

You were chaos and innocence all in one, sweet like honey and sudden like the weather. Incomprehensible, unique you. Simply put, he enjoyed you. And the fact that you belonged to him will never stop getting him hard just from the mere thought of it. He started thinking he finally understood what it meant to be enthralled by someone. When you open your mouth wide, tongue extended and waiting for any shred of him to swallow, when you lay on his chest post-coitus with the sated nature of a feral cat, when he sees your perfect lipstick, waiting to be ruined by kisses.

Of course he’s insatiable. He will always keep wanting more. Perhaps it was that insatiability that led to that storming night.

–

He should’ve noticed when he opened the door and you were looking out of the window, eerily quiet, with the weight of the world on your shoulders. He drops the keys on the dining table, crossing his way to you, hands wrapping around your waist as he kisses your exposed shoulder teasingly.

“Let me take your mind off of it, darlin’,” he whispers, and you feign a giggle at the way his beard prickles your skin. “Had a tough day, didn’t ya?” You look to him as if you were about to confess something, say something and break your usual submissive silence. But you catch his eye and you melt further into his touch instead as you sigh softly.

“Just missed you a little too much, sir…”

It satisfies him. It feeds his ego. But just in case… “Give me a colour, pretty baby. S’alright…”

You gulp, feeling your fingers turn cold as you process your thoughts. With a sigh, you press a kiss to his jaw.

“Green, sir.”

The word barely leaves your lips before he’s kissing you, swallowing down your soft whimpers as his strong arms take you, carrying you to the bedroom with renewed urge and desire. Settling you down on fresh sheets, he peers over your pretty little sundress, your perfect little face, chuckling at the shyness washing over you in the low lamplight. He kisses you again, insatiable hands tearing open your dress as your breath hitches, He does not stop, pressing wanton kisses down your collarbone, your breast, your stomach, spreading your legs so he can settle right between them.

“Y’wanna tell me why you weren’t answering my calls, darlin’?”

You try not imagine the panic you must have caused him for that very reason. The fact that you left him a message at three in the afternoon, I need to see you, sir. Only to have your phone switched off. There is probably a barrage of messages and missed calls. But seeing you here, he finally seems to settle. He seems to ignore your creased forehead, your shaky breaths.

“My phone died… I- I’m sorry…” He shushes you, kissing you again and running his thumb over your painted lips with a smile. “I just missed you, sir.”

You notice his eyes darkening, hands traveling down the expanse of your stomach, embracing and caressing each curve before his right hand completely cups your wanton cunt, willing and warm to the touch. “I think I can do somethin’ about that.” He pushes your underwear aside, two fingers delving into the soft, sticky warmth of your desire, spreading you open just for him. He periodically asks for your status, a colour to confirm your consent. You see it as a way of him asking if he could do the things he was already doing.

Green for the fingers already spreading you open. Green to take off the dress he had already torn off. Green to mark up the neck that already bore the wetness of his saliva.

“How was trivia night last night, sugar? I couldn’t get out of work soon enough to catch you there…” You manage a soft chuckle, now embracing him with a breathy kiss. “Although, I believe I heard from Clark that you did well enough, no?”

Your soft giggles melt against the skin of his jaw, your shaky breaths stuttering as you hear the clink of his belt buckle and the shuffling of his jeans. “Good old nineties, sir,” you murmur. “Your playlist was sufficient enough of a reviewer to carry me through.” It’s his turn to chuckle, cupping your face and peering down at you as he affectionately pinches the apple of your cheek with a sigh.

“One more ‘old man’ quip out of you and you’ll be askin’ for a punishment, li’l girl.”

You manage a soft smile. You like it when he cares. You like him like this. But just as easily as it came, the softness soon disappears as he returns to working the clothes off of your body, looking over the way your skin is void of the markings he left the last time he had you. You try to comprehend the secrets between his furrowed brow, the mutterings you try to hear in the semi-darkness. He always had a way of keeping that same professional barrier between the two of you, a barrier that you never know where it truly stood. A barrier of multiple dimensions. A barrier that was the sole purpose why you never confessed you stopped dating ever since he came into your life.

You remember the time you almost did. You had called him one evening, dressed up in the same apartment, bottle of wine chilled, rose petals all over the sheets. You told him you wanted to see him. You didn’t expect the ease that came with his rebuttal. Can’t tonight, darlin’, I have a lady friend keepin’ me company. How ‘bout Friday? You pretend, as you find yourself doing more and more often. You tell him to have a nice evening. You drink an entire bottle of wine by yourself. You dispose of the rose petals and ensure you left no traces by morning.

Looking at him now, he still remains cool, professional, boundaries locked and loaded between your bodies even when he presses the bulbous tip of a vibrator directly over where you need him most, firing it up the moment you said green. He told you once he loved the way you squealed for him, that it makes his chest bubble with incomprehensible glee knowing he could drive such noises from you, that shy little vixen that knelt for him when he said the word and opened her mouth wide. Maybe that’s why he always enjoyed pushing you to your limits.

Maybe that’s what he wanted to do now.

And you had to admit, you were willing to let him try.

The vibration jostles through your flesh, shaking awake your tendons. The initial shock sent your legs flailing, spreading, and eventually welcoming the affection. “That’s it… let me in, baby…”

Your cries emanate as the shock of the first orgasm shakes through your completely naked body, brushing against the course fabric of his jeans, his small snicker leaving him before he could stop it. “‘Course you’re so easy, pretty lady.” You feel your cheeks warm up at his words, looking into his eyes as he raises a brow, as if waiting for you to give him his dues.

It’s when you return to yourself, blinking away the haze in your head as you tilt your head back. “Thank you, sir… oh, oh– thank you!” When you look back, you see him through the mist in your vision, see that slow, cocky smirk encompassing his features. He likes this. He likes the way you’re absolutely fucked out like this.

The buzzing stops, and you blink awake shakily up at him. He leans down to kiss you gently, sighing as you come down from your orgasmic bliss. “How are we feelin’, baby doll?”

You grin up at him. Green, green, green.

He looks down at you, with that shit-eating grin on your face that you always have when you’re brimming with excitement and ready to burst. He tries to read your eyes just as you grow shy, turning over to embrace the pillow you lay on. What should he do when the prettiest girl in the world says “green” so voraciously?

There was only one answer. He can only go, go, go.

–

Joel Miller rarely calls anything heaven. He rarely finds anything that is so divine that he can surrender so easily in worship. And if he does, it’s even rarer that he is driven by anything so much as to take divinity into his own hands. But with you… he swore he finally saw the face of God. And it was dangerous. It was dangerous because it had awakened an arcane starvation that almost harkens back to his own primordial longings.

You tell him green, but if he was capable of confession, if he was more vulnerable to you… he’d confess that he’d gone blind, his senses dulled and only drawn to one thing and one thing only: and it was to take and take from you.

That was why he fucks you wide open with his cock, your walls trembling with the first sign of overstimulation. He sees the first sign of your hesitation and he barely stops himself to look you in the eye to say your status. You barely manage to tell him green, with a tone of hesitation, and he immediately pummels his hardness into your aching cunt, embracing you in his tense arms, growling into your ear as you feel his lips sucking a brand new hickey at the very crook of your neck.

If he was confessing, he would say all he saw was the red of his blood pumping through his brain. It is only a few seconds later that he finally hears that shy, trembling voice of yours, echoing like a hysterical cry that tears through his defences. It is the words you had never uttered in these moments before now.

“Red, red, red!”

Immediately, Joel flies apart from you like shrapnel, blinking his eyes open just in time to see your grief-stricken face, splotchy from tears as you curl up in the upper middle of the large bed. From here, he finally sees the aftermath of his mindless fucking. His fingertips marking your skin, lovebite blood red and raging just as you peer up at him with eyes lit up with an emotion he had never seen before. You had never stared at him with that much fear before.

He attempts to reach for you, only to be frozen in his tracks the moment you flinched further upwards against the mattress. His blood runs cold when he hears your words. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sir–”

Had he been that absolutely careless over you— precious, darling you that entrusted herself so fully to him? Had he been that selfish, so enthralled by the callings of his own flesh? This is the price he had to pay for tasting divinity— he just had to ruin you for it. He slowly recedes, heart thumping in his chest as he tucks himself back into his pants, keeping his hands visible for you, your watchful eyes never blinking away from you.

“It’s alright, darlin’. It’s alright. We’ve stopped.” Gently, he helps, carefully handing you a dressing robe to regain some form of second skin. He ascertains that his bare hands does not brush against you, not unless you ask him to. Not unless you wanted it. He did not deserve such a privilege, not after what he’s done. Not after how he broke your trust.

He shakes away the thoughts and self-doubt from the recesses of his brain. You do not need his remorse. What you needed was to be taken care of. What you needed was him to fulfill the role he had promised you from the very start of your… partnership. Whatever it was you had. The minutes pass in the silence. The apartment is silent, except for your shaky breaths as he waits for you to calm down.

“Sugar…” your bright doe eyes look to him, reddened slightly by tears before softening, your hands slowly moving to reach for him. He stops himself. “What do you want me to do, doll?”

You finally find the voice to speak again. “Just hold me… please.” Joel gently settles by your side, embracing you as you hide your face into his bare chest. With how close you press yourself to him, you feel the pounding of his chest. You feel your skin prickle, looking up into his eyes in soft, comfortable silence. “It’s like you couldn’t see me anymore when… when…”

He hears your breath hitch and he gently shushes you, carefully pressing kisses to the crown of your head. “Why did you apologize, sugar?”

It's difficult to comprehend feelings in an agreement that is supposedly devoid of them. It's difficult to reflect when you think you know every possibility when you say the truth and nothing but the truth. But you know, too, that you cannot solve the breaking of one’s trust, yours in this case, with the breaking of others’ trust. So you swallow, gather your thoughts.

“You’ve… you always made it feel like it’s my… my privilege to feel so good and… and…” you sniffle, burying your face against him once more as you sigh. “I feel guilty for… for having to—asking to—stop.” You feel his breath still, and you tug him closer out of guilt. It’s as if the motion gently shakes him awake and he embraces you, pressing careful kisses where he was able to.

“That was never my intention, darlin’...” He gently maneuvers you, just enough so you had to look into his eyes— those soft, warm eyes that looked at you the night you met in the bar. “I should be sorry, and I am. God, doll… we built this… us… we built it on the idea that we entrust each other with our… vulnerabilities, and that those vulnerabilities aren’t exploited.” He cups your face, the way he always does, but his touch his careful, the way one grasps precious. “You trusted me, sugar, and I’ve been reckless with my pretty girl. I’m so sorry.”

He barely finishes the last word before you’re kissing him, arms wrapping around him in comfortable silence as he cradles you, lets you indulge until you are the first to pull away. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?” he whispers, the prickle of his beard against your jaw enough to make you giggle. “How does a bath sound?” You manage a small nod, winding down from the events of the evening as he cradles you, gently bringing you to the bathroom and seating you on the nearest counter as he leans over to prepare the warm bath, head turned away from you with a sigh.

The confession lays heavy on your lips. The confession that you’re falling for him, eyes closed, no turning back. You’re in love with him, but you think in telling him, you risk losing this… having him in the soft silences where you can be vulnerable for him and only for him. You tell him, and you picture the nights alone, guarding yourself and knowing happiness shall not exist anymore for you. Not in this lifetime.

“Do you want me to give you some privacy?”

You look to him in silence before taking a deep breath, shaking your head before biting your lip. “Stay with me,” you whisper, looking down at your feet as he settles before you. “Please don’t go too far from me.”

It’s how the two of you end up, with you on his lap, the warm water encompassing the two of you as gently scrubs through your back with slow, careful circles. “Promise me something,” he says, breaking the silence as he carefully pulls you closer to him. “Never ever think you cannot say no to me ever again.” Your head rears to look into his eyes and he couldn’t help but chuckle, kissing your cheek lovingly. “I’d rather have your scorn than seein’ you afraid of me, darlin’.”

You promise him. As if you would deprive him of anything ever again. As if you could bear the way you saw his heart break from your reaction earlier that evening. As if you could bear the sight of him pulling away from you ever again. If it meant keeping him this close to you for some time more—be it a day, another evening, another month, another year—you’d take everything you can.

The both of you make up shortly thereafter. Joel is half-surprised to see you crawling on top of him, facing him as you ask him. He groans at the feel of your nails digging down into the back of his neck as you fuck yourself on him. He lets you take what you want. As if he can deprive you of anything, be it affection or debauchery. He takes you by your word when you ask him to take you to bed— and he makes love to you in the darkness.

You are his God and all the Saints in the body of one mortal. Daisies and thunderstorms and metamorphoses combined. He looks for you in the other people he meets. But they do not have your shyness, your bright smile, nor the complete surrender you offer so willingly to him. He wonders, sometimes, in the darkness, if he will ever find it within himself to cross the boundaries he himself had built. So he tells you he loves you in other ways. When he cradles your face, when he wipes you clean post-coitus, showering your skin with kisses. When he embraces you in his arms when you drift to sleep with a wide, warm smile of peace etched on your face. He whispers it, sometimes, when he kisses your forehead before he leaves, dressed in his clothes from last night.

He’ll rather have you like this. If, by some twist of fate, he loses the presence of your divinity, then he shall forever return to this moment— you on your hands and knees with your back arching into his touch, your warm breath, your trembling breast. Perhaps an eternity, locked together this way, is the closest to heaven he will ever come across. And should he face damnation, flailed and torn apart by hail at the second circle of hell, he shall regret nothing. Should he be offered salvation in exchange of forgetting you, he shall spit at the face of God with a smile. He’d tell Him he’ll do it all over again.

---

A/N: this is the part where i say sorry for letting my current reads and whatnot influence what i'm writing. but this is also your sign to read the divine comedy if you want to :'DDD thank you so so so much for reading!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #dom!joel miller #dom!joel miller x reader

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ughgoaway · 3 months

Text

my favourite fics and writers

hi, y'all!! so I've decided that this year, I want to be more appreciative of all the amazing content we have on this app, and thank the writers providing it. this was inspired by Lily (lastnightwaskindofablur) who shared how long it took her to write her series, and it made me realise how much time and love are poured into these fics.

so this list is basically everyone im following, and my favourite piece of writing from them! I don't think I've forgotten anyone, but if I have IM SO SORRY!! if I am following you- I'm obsessed with you.

anyway, so sorry for tagging 1000 people but I love and appreciate you all so much!!

(so much rambling below the cut)

@64yrsold; “aches” is amazing and “wintering” is heartbreaking in the best way. Also, all of their one-shots are just amazing, I could read them over and over again!!

@abiiors; is not only one of the nicest people on this app (and maybe the world) but also one of the most talented writers. so so many amazing fics that honestly, don't even get me started on bc I will talk for HOURS. but “haunt//bed” is one fic I can't stop coming back to. And “Three’s a Party” is… mind-numbingly good, it actually made me scream into a pillow when I read it for the first time. Vee also creates all the amazing 75 Tumblr activities so really she is to thank for SO MUCH content on here!! one of the kindest people I know, and I feel so lucky to call her my friend :)))

@yourtouchismidas; “ruins” was one of the first fics that had me checking AO3 every day for updates. truly heartbreaking and all-encompassing. and all the blurbs from it are also amazing. The dad! Matty content mixed with the angst is just so well done.

@shinycollarboneapologist; was the blog where I started rambling and sharing ideas, so she is to thank for all the friends I've made on here!!! The Taylor verse is PHENOMENAL and “illicit affairs” is a fav. but “clandestine” has invaded my brain so much I literally dream about it regularly... so I have to say that's my no.1

@imagine-that-100; I first discovered her series "Drunk” on ao3 and then promptly binged everything on her masterlist (multiple times...) “Chicken Shop Date” is just a masterpiece (she and her co-writer are AMAZING on this and I will ramble about her later), but my personal fav is “truth serum”. I have probably read that fic about 50 times over and I love it just as much every time!!!

@heyidkyay; I first read “Who Can Say No to Bridezilla?” and became obsessed on ao3. but then I found them on Tumblr and was completely sucked into "I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name" which is quite possibly the best George series on here. so much character building and back story, and overall just a phenomenal fic.

@justlikemebutsixfootthree; has some of the best smut on this app,” The Birthday Party” is probably my most re-read because it is just an absolute masterpiece. but “insane” and “direction” are also both amazing.

@imightgetbetter; was one of the first blogs I discovered on here, and I fell in love with the whole “Love It If We Made It” series. such an amazing development of a relationship and their writing is AMAZING. but my absolute favourites have to be “Bets are off” and “I love dilfs.”

@butyou-callmewhenyourebored; has such good Ross content all around, truly providing for the Ross girlies!!! but the Leeds au blurb 1 is my fav from them!

@drivelikeiido; has some beautiful fluff, and I just love the way they write Matty. but (not so) important decisions just make my heart warm like nothing else!!!

@toomuchracket; my beloved mads!! the fun wine aunt of 1975 Tumblr. I mean I could talk for 17 pages about my love for all of her au's... birthday party is the perfect supportive husband, d-word is the best slutty old man content on this app lol and flatmate is the friends-to-lovers content we all yearn for. asking me to choose my favourite Mads fic is like choosing a favourite child, but right now it has to be totally wrecked. I think that has altered my brain chemistry in an indescribable way… (edit; since writing this she has put out possibly my no.1 fic of all time, “and this is how it starts” so I just had to mention how much I fucking adore it)

@lottiecrabie; I mean... what else is there to even say about Lottie other than she is one of the best writers I have ever read. truly the mother of 1975 Tumblr. “rockstar girlfriend” and “pray for my soul” both have such special places in my heart, but anatomy au locked a new section in my brain fr. that little loser lives in my head rent free!!!

@tillthelandslide; is so so kind and has some amazing series I would recommend to EVERYONE. “insufferable asshole” is one of my absolute favourites, I love a grovelling man what can I say!!! but “Same for You” has me flipping sides every chapter, I still can't choose if I'm team Ross or team Matty.

@lastnightwaskindofablur; what more can I sat about the whole ATPOAIM universe other than it is quite literally phenomenal. the amount of time and effort poured into the Brittany Jackson universe is so clear by how amazing each fic and blurb is. my absolute favourite thought is "Christmas isn't cancelled (just you.)" from the 12 days of Christmas. it is easily one of my favourite fics I've read!!! She is also the whole inspiration behind this list and made me realise how important thanking your favourite writers really is.

@cowboylor; ohmyLORD the smut on this blog is just... wowowoowowowow. actually made me nervous to attempt smut because of how good theirs is. "Cabin Fever" is probably my favourite, I love a good threesome fic.

@alovesreading; the other half of the JAW DROPPING series that is “Chicken Shop Date”. the hours that have been put into that fic are so clear in how well thought out it is. every word feels purposefully placed, and every chapter fucking HITS. A also writes amazing fics for Alex Turner and is slowly making me an Alex girlie just by how good her writing is...

@bookish-strawberry; such such good fics in the "You and Me Till the End Universe". Ambrose has just created such loveable characters and you can't help but adore his writing. “alleyway” pt 1 and 2 are my favourites, I do love some fwb content.

@hypersonic04; her teacher Ross universe is just great, every blurb and fic just radiates the love between the characters that she has created!! but my absolute favourite fic of hers has to be "Tis the damn season", it somehow made me love one of my favourite songs even more.

@cows-wearing-my-sweater; has some amazing one-shots, and his work on “Eternal Summer” is absolutely beautiful. she manages to make you feel the warmth of summer through a screen, and it's fucking beautiful.

@poisonmedaddy13; Ross girlies do I have the blog for YOU. so much good Ross-tent, but my all-time favourite is the “Mirrorball” series. As someone who HEAVILY relates to that song, that fic is just... so so real and amazing. every chapter is just as good as the last, if not better!

@cryley; her “Petichor” series is just fluffy perfection, I have probably read it over 10 times and will 1000% be reading it at least 10 more...

@thefrontofmymind; has so many great matty fics/imagines, “Helping Hand” jumps out easily as my favourite though. Once again, friends with benefits is ALWAYS gonna slap. especially when they confess their feelings at the end!!!! ahhh so good. “Proof Positive” is such a good Ross fic, if you like pregnancy fics I would HIGHLY recommend it.

@uramilf; did the 12 days of Christmas last year, and every day was amazing!!! But £The Record Shop” is my favourite series from her, love and music combined are too perfect for me not to adore.

@3terna15unshin3; Marcey's fic "then because she goes" had me refreshing ao3 DAILY. este is such a well-rounded and beautiful character, her and Matty's love makes me so lovesick it's CRAZY. that whole series is my favourite, and my fav blurb from that universe is Toothbrush. Este and Matty are so beloved by me <333

@because-she-goes; has an amazing universe with Matty and an OC that I adore, Nora is such a lovely character and every fic about them makes me giddy. "black lace" and "Summer Girl" are my favourites of their fics though!

@theseventyfive; has such a way with words, every fic makes me giggle and kick my feet. but if you saw my tags on my reblog of "not so secret Santa" you know how deeply I adore that fic. the writing on it is beautiful and makes you feel warm somehow??? amazing.

@wrongendofurcigarette; George girlies it's your time to shine!!!! "sun-soaked" and "wet" swirl in my mind whenever I see a pic of George looking... particularly good. but recently she has created an actress reader au that I am BUZZING for. that little snippet was... wowowowowowowow

@automaticllamacycle; OLIVE!!!!! once again, such a nice and genuine human being and I am so so lucky to chat with her because she is the best hypeman EVER. and is amazing to bounce ideas off of. just such a kind person and I am blessed to scream to her over DM. her coffee shop AU might be my most-read fic ever. it was my daily routine at one point to wake up, go to AO3 and read that fic. when part 2 came out???? I DIEDDDDDDD. but also all of olives horny thoughts are... MUWAH chefs kiss.

@red---moon; "after party" is another fic I read regularly on ao3, sleepy matty after a party with flirting and then smut??? hellooooo yes please. also, “Souvenir” as a series is just amazing, so so so good.

@maxverstappensflatbrim; “show me yours” is such a beautiful universe, and has SO MANY CHAPTERS for you to become obsessed with. I just love every character in that universe, and Mac’s writing is amazing.

@justanamesstuff; “All I Need” is such an amazing series, and I would recommend it to anyone who loves Dad! Matty content!! But all her blubs are worth reading too!!

@procrastinatinglikeapro; is so so sweet and has some absolutely mind-blowing fics. I must have read her entire masterlist 10 times over at this point. Choosing a favourite is hard, but “Does it matter” as a series has me HOOKED. (but also I love “mango lipgloss” and “wear my name around your neck”… don't make me choose okay)

@mybrokenveins3000; college ross SUPREMACY!!! She is right when she says she is proud of “everyday rockstar” because it's easily my fav!!

@wrestletotheground; has some absolute BANGERS that everyone MUST read. Once again, the ross-tent on this blog is amazing. “Crime and Punishment” is my fav Matty fic from them, and she absolutely killed it with “Settle Down” for Ross!!

@steel-elle; beautiful writing with everything she does, but my favourite has to be “But I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes” (is this also because I love the song New Year's Day?? perhaps…)

@kscheibles; “e la vita” is so stunning I don't even know how to verbalise it. That fic has a portion of my heart FOREVER. But college bf! Matty is truly the man we all deserve, and I am obsessed with him.

@think0fmehigh; molly!!! My love!!! What else is there to say about Molly other than she might be my fav filthy smut writer on this app, and thats a tough competition. Every time I get a snippet in DM’s from her, I feel like one of the luckiest human beings alive. Molly does not have a bad fic (despite her protests im sure) but my top two (because I CANT CHOOSE JUST ONE) have to be “Birthday Girl” and “You Get Me So High.” but honestly if you have the time, bless your life by reading every word she's ever written.

@controlmyfeet; DAD MATTY FIC. thats all I even need to say, it is SO SWEET and it makes me so happy!!!!

@bfiaflbox; sooooo much good content, but my favourites are “Wintering” and “Tonight I Wish I Was Your Girl” !!

@nowshesdoingitallthetime; kirke. This is me BEGGING for more bartender matty!!! “Cocktails, Cowboys and back alleys” is MWUAH MWUAH MWUAH. Bartender Matty is a need, I adored every second of that fic.

@wiintring; I NEED more from Christina!!! Her writing is all wonderful, and “Come here dressed in black now” does live in my mind!!!

@grocerystorelist; “body of Christ” is made for the religious trauma girlies and the fleabag girls. PREIST MATTY DRIVES ME CRAZYYYYY. Leila is so talented, it's crazy.

@forcryingoutlloud; wowwowwowwow the smutty content on this blog… its sooooooo good. “Beg for it” and “greedy” did melt my brain in the absolute best way, like I was genuinely SWEATING at how hot it was. As is everything on her masterlist!!

@hrryshoney; gyno! Matty unlocked a whole new side to me that I had NO IDEA was there. Like… insane. And the newest photographer reader fic also drove me CRAZY because I do love a cocky fictional man and some semi-public sex…

@the1975attheirverybest; Halla’s blog is a great place for discussion, good writing and crazy intelligent analysis of the band. “Education” and “being funny in a foreign language” are just… art. Truly. The character of Amelia and the characterisation of Matty are some of my favourites on this app. Hot smut, good writing and a lovely human being- what else do you need hellooo?? (also the pegging blurb from ages ago… yeah I think about her A LOT.)

@sugar-coat-it; FILTY, AMAZING SMUT. literally, every piece on Belle’s masterlist is worth reading 100 times over. Her newest thigh-riding blurb has been rotting my brain, I can't stop going back to it and reading it. Also, the Kylo Ren fic… mask kink unlocked fr. and the matty helping you deepthroat fic is also incredible. (can I just name everything she's done orrr???)

@cinomn; Nina has some great content, and I would genuinely recommend anything!! My favourite has to be “Summer Nights”, but it's a TOUGH competition tbh!!

@noacfslut; THE WRITING SPEED ON THIS BLOG?? MIND BOGGILING. And not only is Elle speedy, but every fic all absolutely wonderful. “Jealousy jealousy” and “undo” are my favourites, but that might change when I get the chance to read her mechanic au, because from what I've heard, it's also extraordinary.

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