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prettyfastcars · 3 months

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triggered | Mob!Lando

Summary: The two of you had broken up just weeks ago, and it was mainly his fault. But no matter how hard he tried to win you back, you never gave him the opportunity to. Lando hadn’t heard from you or seen you at all in those weeks. And when he did finally catch a glimpse of you, it almost made his heart stop. He hoped he’d find you at a club, or walking down the city streets. He didn’t expect to find a suggestive photograph of you on another man’s phone. And that triggered his anger and jealousy in a way that nothing ever had before.

Themes: exes-to-lovers, jealous!lando, smut, cam girl!reader, lowkey toxic ex!lando, degrading kink, brief aftercare, mild gun play, mild daddy kink

All he saw was pure red.

Earlier this evening, Lando walked into one of the clubs he owned in this city to hopefully drink enough to forget all about the torturous day he’d had. It seemed like ever since the two of you broke up, he had only been having bad days. Mainly because half the time he was busy thinking about you and his brain wasn’t functioning well.

So tonight, after a long day and the longest week ever, he just wanted some drinks and some peace. But of course, life had to torture him some more.

Lando was lounging in one of the couches in the VIP area, constantly having to turn down all the girls who wanted his attention. He barely even saw their faces, they all seemed blurry and since they weren’t you, he didn’t care. So there he was, chilling when he heard a group of men nearby, over on the next couch, laughing and ‘ooh’ ing while looking down at one of their friends’ phone.

As much as he wanted to have them kicked out for their loud, annoying voices, he couldn’t because they were some of the regulars. The group was here almost every weekend. And part of him was also curious to know what had their attention like that. So he listened intently as the guys proceeded to make vulgar comments on pictures that a woman sent one of them apparently. The club was loud, but he was close enough to be able to hear part of their conversation.

“So did you like, ask for this?” One of them asked.

Then the one on whose phone the video was sent, he assumed, answered, “She’s like a cam girl who also does like a private chat thing if you send her enough money. So I requested pictures and she sent these.”

The men laughed, slapping the guy who received the video on the back like he was a hero.

Another asked, “So what’s her name?”

“I don’t know. She always wears hot bunny costumes and she...”

The rest of what he said did even register in Lando’s brain. He totally froze on the couch for a second there.

Bunny costumes? Surely not…

Lando knew of your past as a cam girl. You used to be quite a successful one too. But you stopped when you and Lando started dating about a year ago. Not because he wanted you to, but because you didn’t need the extra money anymore since Lando spoiled you rotten.

His heart raced faster than the cars he liked to drive when he realised how many bunny costumes you owned. It was your go to Halloween costume each year. Plus during your cam girl days, you were known for them.

It can’t be you, right? You wouldn’t… right? Not when he couldn’t even breathe right whenever he thought about how you had ‘broken up’ with him.

He felt hot and cold at the same time, and something, like a twisted gut feeling told him something wasn’t right. So Lando quietly signalled one of his guards over and asked him to bring him that phone that was currently being passed around within that group of men, and also asked him to kick that whole group out.

Within a minute or two, the group was gone and that damn phone was in his hand. And Lando lost it for a moment. All he saw was red, his heartbeats echoed in his ears, his hands shook. He had never felt this level of rage before.

On the screen was a picture of a woman, scantily dressed. Black fishnets, black bodysuit, black bunny ears, black high knee socks. He tightened his grip around the phone so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if the screen cracked. The woman’s face was turned away, but Lando would recognise that body anywhere. A body he had touched, tasted, fucked too many times to count.

It was you. And the red neon sign behind you only served as more proof that this picture was taken in your bedroom. A bedroom he was in just weeks ago, arguing with you before you two broke up.

He was breathing heavily as if he’d run a marathon. He checked the date and time of the picture and turned out you had sent it that evening itself, and that only fueled whatever murderous rage had taken over him.

Lando pocketed the stranger’s phone, and pulled out his own and called you. Of course you didn’t pick up and that only pissed him off even more.

Within the next minute, Lando was out of the club, in his car and speeding towards your penthouse. He could barely think straight. He could barely function, it was a miracle he was still able to drive properly.

His heart raced as he surpassed the speed limit like the law meant nothing to him. It rarely ever did but right now, all he cared about was finding you and fuck, he didn’t even know what the fuck to say to you. But he would remind you that you still belonged to him.

He knew it would only piss him off even more but he pulled out that guy’s phone again, and with a few taps he found that damn picture again. He kept an eye on the mostly empty road as he swiped left and right to see if there were more pictures.

There were a couple more. Same outfit, different angles. Always with your face hidden. Lando nearly threw the phone out the window but he knew he’d need it when he would confront you. So he tossed the phone aside, and punched his steering wheel instead. He hoped the pain would maybe take his focus away from the rage he felt, but he barely even felt the punch.

He was shaking by the time he reached your penthouse. His entire being focused on only getting to your floor and knocking on your door. He barely even remembered if he had parked his car in the right spot.

He took deep breaths in the elevator, trying to talk himself out of breaking down your front door the moment he got to it. It was late at night, so even if he did break down the door your neighbours would surely hear it and come investigate.

And for what he had planned for you, he didn’t want an audience. Fuck, he was barely able to think straight after finding a picture of you in another man’s phone. He was certain he would commit heinous crimes if ever someone saw you half naked like that in real life.

He banged loudly on your door. He could hear nothing but silence on the other end. But he knew you’d be home. Since less than an hour ago you sent pictures to a random man.

He called out. “Open up, babygirl.” Lando growled, banging both of his fists onto the wooden door. The sound was loud enough that he could hear it echoing inside the spacious penthouse. He waited to hear something, and he did. Some kind of movement from the other side of the door, but the door remained locked. He yelled louder, “I will break down this door if I have to, baby. Is that what you want? Want me to cause a scene?”

Apparently you didn’t because the moment those words left his mouth, he heard a familiar click. The door unlocked, but remained shut. He would’ve smirked and felt triumphant if it wasn’t for the fiery anger inside him which tried to claw its way out.

Lando opened the door, rushed inside and slammed it shut behind him. At that point, he didn’t care who heard the commotion he caused. The moment his eyes met yours, he stopped giving a fuck about anything else.

You stood near the entrance. Back against the wall like it would protect you from him. And what pissed him off even more was that you were still wearing that damn costume, minus the bunny ears, from the picture. Something in him snapped as he nearly pounced on you like an actual predator in the wild.

Grabbing you by the neck, he pinned you to the wall. Ignoring your pleas, he pulled out that guy’s phone, found that damn picture and shoved it in your face.

“Care to explain what the fuck this is?!” He snarled, squeezing your throat just a little.

You didn’t have to look at the screen to know what he had found. You didn’t know what kind of twisted invisible string this was, that even after breaking up brought Lando back into your life. Like this no less. You’d been ignoring him for weeks, but somehow he found his way to you now.

“That is none of your business.” You said, causing him to tighten his grip around your neck. Still, you whispered, “What I do is none of your problems anymore. We’re–”

Lando cut you off by throwing the phone to the ground with enough force that it broke and bounced off the floor and hit the front door. Then he leaned closer to you, his eyes quickly scanning your barely dressed body.

Your body reacted the same way it did back when you were together. All Lando ever had to do was give you those bedroom eyes and you’d be dragging him to bed no matter the time of day.

His other hand reached into his pocket and he pulled out the shiny gun he always carried. It had his name engraved on it and everything. He used to let you play with back when–

Your thoughts came to an immediate halt when he carefully pressed the cold barrel of the gun to your parted lips, his eyes staring into yours. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared of him at that moment. After all, he hadn’t earned the reputation he had for nothing.

“Keep talking, come on.” He whispered, dangerously calm now. “Tell me more about how you’re not my problem anymore.”

He scoffed when you shivered, trailing the barrel of the gun down your body. Leaving your lips, down your chin, down in between your breasts. The almost see-through bodysuit didn’t leave much to the imagination and it both pissed him off and turned him on. He dragged the gun across your stomach, and further down until he pressed the barrel in between your legs, making you whimper like an actual bunny.

He rubbed it in between your legs briefly before dragging it back up your body. “You wanted to be a slutty, little bunny so bad, didn’t you?” He cooed in that voice that sent shivers all over your body. “Go on then, run and hide. Hide as best you can.” He tapped the barrel of the gun on your lower lip a couple of times before saying, “And when I find you, I will remind you exactly who you belong to.”

With that he pulled away, took a few steps back and gave you room to run. It was cruel, whatever game he was playing. But it was messing with your head, turning you on.

Seeing you weren’t moving, he added, “I’ll count till ten. Better get moving, little bunny.”

You ran, hearing him count in the background as your heart raced. The penthouse was spacious, with many nooks and corners to hide in. Like the wine cellar for instance. But Lando knew each and everyone of those hiding spots. He was the one who gifted you the penthouse after all. Besides, no matter how well you hid he would end up finding you anyway.

Still, you ran deep into your walk-in closet and hid behind your thich coats. Crouched down in a corner, you waited to hear if he was coming. His voice reached you before he did.

“I’m coming to find you.” Followed by a deep, scary chuckle. “And when I do, I show you exactly what happens to bad little bunnies who misbehave.”

Time felt like it went by in slow motion as you listened intently for his footsteps. You heard it approaching. Then you heard your bedroom door opening and shutting.

“You’re so predictable,” He sounded disappointed. Yet his voice made you clench your thighs together all the same.

And you were too busy trying to process how your body was reacting to the fear, the sound of his voice, the anticipation of what was to come, that you didn’t hear him enter the closet.

“I know you’re in here,” He called out in a voice that was so calm it made your heart pound even harder. “I can hear you trembling behind those coats, babygirl.”

Shit.

You barely processed it all when his hand reached in and grabbed you by the arm, dragging you out of your pathetic hiding spot.

“Lando, please–,”

He cut you off by glaring at you and said, “On your knees.”

You quickly sank down to your knees in front of him, looking up to find a wild hunger in those pretty eyes of his.

He spoke up again. “Now come on, we both know what that pretty mouth is good at. Show me.” He grabbed you by the back of your neck. “You wanted so desperately to be a little slut, right? Sending pictures to random men, huh? Come on then, make it good for me like a slut would.”

His words put you under a spell. Your hands reached up to undo his belt, unzip his trousers and lower his underwear to free his erected cock.

“Come on, little bunny.” He hissed, watching you as you wrapped your hands around his cock and placed your mouth on him, your tongue slowly circling his tip.

Lando pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “Take all of me. This is all you’re good for, isn’t it bunny?” He threw his head back and let out a strained moan. “All you’re good for is sucking daddy’s cock…”

You kept your eyes on his handsome face as you sucked on his cock. Lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked every bit the powerful man he was. He groaned as he took over, pushing deeper into your mouth, fucking it like he owned it.

“This is all you needed, isn’t it you little brat?” He taunted, as you gagged a little, taking him perfectly. “You wanted attention that bad, huh?” He hissed, fucking your mouth harder until your jaws hurt. “Isn’t that why you broke up with me? Because according to you I didn’t give you enough attention?” He thought back to that night you two ‘broke up’.

That menacing tone of his made you squirm and it only added to the dampness which was forming in between your legs.

He quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of your mouth. “All the trips, the cars, the penthouse, that beach house you threw a bratty fit for, all the shit I bought you. None of it was enough for your attention-seeking, bratty self, was it? Hmm?” When you didn’t respond, you earned yourself a smack on your cheek. “You still had to go look for more from another man, is that it?”

You glared at him upon hearing the insinuation in his words.

“Did you think anyone else could treat you like I do? Did you think another man would spoil you like I do?” His stare intensified when you dragged your tongue lazily over the slit on his tip, tasting some of his come and moaning as you did. Smirking, and just to push your buttons he asked, “Did you suck him off like this too?”

That did it. You pulled away, snarling at him, “Fuck you!”

You stood up fast, shoving at his chest. But he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, his eyes focusing on your swollen lips. “So you cheat, and then you have the audacity to–,”

You cut him off by raising your voice and saying firmly, “I didn’t cheat! We broke up, remember?”

“And you are mine!” He hissed. “Remember that?”

Before you answered, his mouth was on yours. His kiss was rough and it hurt in the best way. Lando pulled away for a brief moment, squeezed your cheeks so you couldn’t close your mouth. Glaring at you, he spat in your mouth before kissing you again.

It was hot. And messy. And you were too lost in him to think straight, so much that you didn’t realise he was dragging you towards your bed until he pushed you down on it.

Then he pointed at the red neon sign above your bed with a lethal look in his eyes. “This is where you took the picture, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “Like a needy little slut.”

You were quiet. Your brain was too foggy with lust to function.

“Why’d you do it?” He asked, sliding his rough hands up and down your parted thighs. You spread them even more the moment he touched you and he smirked when he noticed it. “Was it for money?” He taunted, knowing full well he’d put enough money in your account for it to last a lifetime.

All you did was whimper as he crawled on top of you, looking down at you like he couldn’t decide what to do with you. He knelt in between your legs, his hands toyed with the thin material of your body suit, his fingers tracing the outline of it along your inner thighs, then he abruptly tore it, the fabric giving in to his strong hands.

His fingers tore at the fishnets as well, now exposing your wet folds to his dangerous stare. He touched you mindlessly, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around.

“You’re not gonna show off this body from now on, you hear me?”

“Now you have a problem with it?” You couldn’t help but scoff. “Isn’t that how we met?”

That earned you a slap on the thigh. You yelped in pain before glaring at him.

“Yeah we did. And now you’re mine so no one gets to see you like–,”

“But we broke up.”

Lando hated being cut off. But what he hated more than that was when you argued over stupid shit like this. “Say that bullshit again. I dare you.”

You gulped at the sound of his voice. Cold, bitter, threatening. He was getting on your nerves, and perhaps that’s why you whispered sassily, “We broke up.”

And that did it. His hand pinned you down on the bed by wrapping around your neck to keep you in place, while his other hand wrapped around his cock. Pumping it once, twice while holding your stare.

You could cry that’s how badly you needed him inside you. Lando wasted no time sliding inside of you. Giving you no time to even think, he moved in and out of you in a way that had you crying out loud.

He held your stare as he fucked you hard and fast, barely giving you time to breathe right. He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “We broke up, huh? You think we’re done, babygirl? Is that why your pussy is strangling my cock?”

You could feel your face getting hotter as your walls clenched around him over and over again, as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you out, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on.

“Is this what you wanted, little bunny?” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “Is this enough attention, baby?”

You moaned at how perfect his warm body felt on top of yours, his weight pressing down on you. He couldn’t even bother to get you properly undressed, but something about being so dishevelled as he fucked you, fishnets torn, bodysuit in tatters, it only made it hotter.

His slight stubble tickled your skin as he kissed your face and bit on your lip. Your legs trembled as his thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body was familiar, tight and hot.

Lando looked at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “See?” He whispered, “You’re all mine again. Only mine.” The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again.

His hand squeezed your throat, making you moan even louder. “My dirty little slut. Look at you, all cock drunk.” He scoffed, giving you yet another messy kiss. “Are you gonna be good from now on? When you want something, you open that slutty little mouth and ask me for it, you understand? Be it attention, money, or some cock to fill you up.” He growled. “You come to me!”

You whimpered, unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. Fuck, you had missed this. So much. You whined again when his hand let go of your throat, fingers trailing down your squirming body until his fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Are you gonna be good from now on?” He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke. “You’re mine, and you’re damn lucky that guy didn’t touch you otherwise I would’ve fucking killed him.” He spoke in a fit of rage again, fueled by his lust.

“Please…” You whimpered, squirming and unable to hold back anymore. You needed to come so bad, you could feel your eyes tearing up. Your thoughts were a mess.

Lando leaned in to kiss your exposed shoulder while he fucked you. “Answer me first.” He whispered, his warm breath tickling your ear. “Are you going to fucking behave or not?”

“I will!” You squealed when he bit down on your shoulder.

“Good girl.”

And you couldn’t hold back anymore. You came undone all around him. Moaning and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him even harder than earlier.

Lando kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under him. “That’s it, babygirl. Come for me.”

You could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, growly voice. He groaned until he came undone as well. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, his thrusts slowing down, his cum dripping down your thighs.

—

You didn’t remember when he cleaned you up and changed you into your favourite onesie before getting in bed with you. All you remember is waking up at some point during the night, cuddled up with him, safe and warm in his arms.

Lando was awake still, his fingers lazily tracing shapes over your back. You cleared your throat awkwardly and waited for him to say something.

“Why'd you do it?” He asked.

You were silent for a moment. Then answered, “I thought it was time I move on and earn my own money.”

“Your own money.” Lando scoffed. “You have money.”

“It's yours. I'm not gonna use your money when I'm not with you.” A pause. “I've started looking for an apartment, I'll move–,”

He cut you off by twisting his body, and yours, so you laid on your sides facing each other. Even in the dark you could feel the intensity of his stare. He grabbed your chin roughly and spoke in that low, menacing voice. “You are gonna stop with this nonsense.”

“But–”

“Shut the fuck up, baby. Don't piss me off.”

You frowned but kept quiet for a few moments. Having him be this close to you reminded you of how addicting he could be. His handsome face. His pretty eyes. His touch. The way he couldn’t help but order you around. He was infuriating. But he made your heart flutter.

“So,” You mumbled, “Now what?”

Lando let go of your chin and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. He ignored your question, and instead asked, “Are you in pain?”

You quickly assessed your body and replied, “Just a little sore. That bite on my shoulder hurts though. It's gonna leave behind a mark.” You wrapped an arm around his lean waist too.

“Good.” He said arrogantly. “It'll remind you that you belong to me.”

#lando norris x reader #mob!lando #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando norris smut #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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silencesscreams · 5 months

Note

"is there any chance i can fix this?" where james and reader are best friends since birth but he begins to pull away and spend less time with her in favor of the boys, so she just cuts him out of her life and after a while he doesn't know how to deal with it anymore. hiiiii

sad beautiful tragic

james potter x fem reader (angst)

a/n: sorry about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language (also i’m pretty bad at writing angst but i tried my best) also immediately thought of the title because of the taylor swift song, so hope you don’t mind the association. also the first kiss part came to my mind because of a tiktok i saw a few weeks ago but i don’t really remember who’s it was to credit them

warnings: friendship distancing, kissing, fighting, cursing, a bit short (sorry), happy ending

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please”

you knew james potter and he knew you. knowing meaning comprehending each other, meaning that you stood by each others side for as long as you can remember.

he was your first friend. he was your neighbor and you both grew up together, it was expected that you both would know each other better than anyone.

sure, it felt different when you both started hogwarts and suddenly he had new friends, but so did you. you spent the time you could together, always saving a bit of your days for each other.

during the sixth to seventh year summer vacation, he had spent the whole summer with you, you both would hang out all the time.

until he kissed you.

it was the last day of summer and you both had spent the evening in his room. you were talking about a book you had been reading recently and he listened quietly, like it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard of. until you paused for a brief moment and he moved closer to you. you were sat on the floor with him, the carpet tickling your legs as you played with the fluffy yarn under you.

“honey” he said, you looked at him, doe eyed waiting for him to continue. “a phrase. two words, six letters, two vowels. guess.” he said lowly whilst looking at your lips. your mind went blank.

one vowel for each word. you still didn’t get it.

“what are the vowels?” you whisper back, he smiles.

“i and e” he answers, not taking his eyes from off of you for a second. you knew.

“kiss me?” and so he did. his lips met yours abruptly, his hands grabbed your hips and yours went straight to the back of his neck. it completely changed the way you ever saw him, hell, it completely changed your expectations to a kiss. it was better than anything you’d ever experienced and you loved it.

when you got back to school, it seemed like he didn’t do that, actually, it seemed like he didn’t even talk to you the whole summer.

sure, he did casually say hello in the halls and you might’ve shared one or two conversations, but what the hell? he kisses you like that and expects you to just forget about it? that was the most fucked up thing anyone could’ve done. as the semester went on, your mind was absolutely torturing you over that kiss.

it made you overthink every single thing you ever did around him. but maybe he didn't have time, maybe he was really busy with his studies and quidditch, right? that was probably it.

he saw you every once in a while, said an awkward hi or whatever that thing signaling head thing he did was.

the crush you had developed for him didn’t help at all. it made you crave his presence in your life, even now that you hated him more than you ever thought you possibly could. you missed his pet names for you, ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ sounded so amazing coming out of his mouth.

but from the moment he started to ignore you, you decided he was absolutely done. he was never going to see a smile coming from you ever again, he was never going to get another hello, nothing. james potter didn’t deserve a single thing from you.

your friends agreed. they thought he was a piece of shit and said you should’ve cut him off a long time before.

life went on without him, you barely thought about him. your studies were going well, everything was great.

christmas break came up and when you saw james at the train station, you were pissed. you knew he was going to be there for christmas dinner, he was always invited alongside with his family. you didn’t know how he was going to act then, was he going to pretend it never happened?

when you got home, your mother instantly started asking you what you wanted for dinner and you were glad to be home, you just hated that he was in the house next to yours.

a few nights after you both got home, you were invited for a date by steven, who worked at a bookstore near the city park. you said yes, he took you to see a shitty movie and tried to kiss you after dropping you off at your front porch. you dodged it and gave him a good night kiss on the cheek. james saw it all.

once the date left, you heard him yelling from his porch:

“who’s that?” you ignored him and went inside, sure, you weren’t going to see steven again but james didn’t deserve to know that.

on christmas day you went to the potter’s for dinner, your parents insisted for you to go, even though you tried to fake being sick. sirius was there too, you politely greeted all of them them and didn’t bother to answer james’ “hey”.

when you sad at the side of the living room table james sat next to you, even though that wasn’t his usual seat. you played with your dress awkwardly and ate less, being there was making you so irritated you lost your appetite.

after taking a bite from your desert, you thanked euphemia for the food and told your parents you were feeling a bit sick and that you were heading home, telling them to enjoy the rest of their night.

as you were opening the door to head out, you heard footsteps behind you. you knew james was there and you had no interest to talk with him.

“don’t” you simply stated, stepping out and shutting the door lightly on him, he followed you during the small walk between both your houses.

“hey!” he shouted, trying to get your attention. you were about to shut the door to your house on his face, but he held it with his foot, going into your house.

he pulled you by your wrist but you tugged it away from him.

“don’t touch me!” you shouted at him, staring into his eyes for the first time that night.

“now you can talk to me, huh? ‘the fucks up with you?!” he shouts back, brows furrowed. you couldn’t believe him, what a fucking nerve he had.

“whats up with YOU?!” you step closer to him, throwing your keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. “you’ve ignored me for the whole semester and now you wanna talk?” he had never seen you like this. you had never been this angry at anyone or anything around him.

“i’m sorry?” he had no reaction, he knew he was wrong, he just couldn’t deal with it. with anything. he didn’t know what to do after he kissed you, he couldn’t handle any of it. he knew that if he spent more time around you he would fall harder, he couldn’t risk it.

“i’m sorry! now that you don’t have anyone else near for you to talk to i’m worthy of your attention? i’m so lucky, right?!” your eyes started to tear up, but you held it in, he was not getting to see you cry.

“honey, i’m sorry i didn’t talk much with you these past few months, but i tried to speak with you tonight and you didn’t even bother to answer me!” he ran his hand through his hair, looking at you as you sat down on the couch, staring at your hands.

“you didnt even look at me. the entire fucking night. one lousy ‘hey’ is not trying to do anything” he handed you a piece of paper, it was crumpled up in his jeans’ pocket. you knew he was bad with words, but the paper was written front and back. what was he even trying to do? did he think a letter was enough to fix the damage he had done?

“really? you’re a little too late for this, don’t you think?” you said, looking at him angrily.

“fine, don’t read it then. just keep it, okay?” he knew you were about to cry. it was the worst feeling he had ever felt.

“you don’t get to do this to me, james” you hold back tears once you say it.

“i know, honey, i know” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face as you try to not melt because of his touch. he kisses you, but this time you pull away.

“no. don’t do this to me” you say, a single tear streaming down your face, he wipes it off but more tears just keep coming

“im sorry, im so sorry for everything i did and-“ you interrupt him.

“could you just try to listen?!” you shout, pulling away from his touch again. “what makes you think that i want this? after all you did, better, all that you didn’t do?! you kiss me and expect me to forget about it? expect me to be okay with you ignoring me all the time just because you kissed me again? i can’t be okay with any of this unless you actually explain to me what happened. i really try to understand you, but all of this doesn’t help!”

“i love you” he says “i have loved you all my life and i didn’t know, after i kissed you it all hit me and i couldn’t trust myself around you anymore, i didn’t want to hurt you so i pulled away, i just didn’t know it would hurt you more like that. i’m sorry, but im here now and i want to show you how much I do love you” he pauses and sits next to you on the couch.

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please” he wipes the tears from off your face again. you knew he meant it, you just didn’t know how to trust him again.

“i don’t know” you whisper, looking into his eyes, you had never seen him look this sad. you wanted to trust him, you really did, but how could you? how could you know he wasn’t going to pull something like that again?

you couldn’t be sure of anything, you could only hope for the best and be careful. so you gave it a shot.

“come here” you say lowly, pulling him in for a hug. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and gave you small kisses.

“i’m so sorry, baby” he whispered.

“i know” you whisper back, he looks at you and gives you quick kisses all over your face. you can’t help but smile.

it was going to take a while for you to trust him again, but you knew you could.

#james potter x reader #james potter fic #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter angst #james potter oneshot #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #mrsaluado #lila writes #silencesscreams

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milolunde · 1 month

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SO SONIC FORCES!!!

Always thought it was interesting. I don’t actually think I heard anything about the game before buying it, I just knew that it was a Sonic game. yippee!!!

Immediately after my initial whimsy wore off I started treating it like all my favorite media: a project to be rewritten to my liking. That was maybe five years ago, when I was gung-ho on the angst factor of the story above the Sonic factor.

After watching through the game’s Japanese dub and realizing the simple differences in word choice single-handedly enhanced the story, I started rewriting it AGAIN…. Here’s some of that <3

vvv

I’ve drawn Sonic after escaping Eggman “giving him hell,” and NOT after torture (I want to know the translator/script writer who thought that was a good idea, by the way), worse for wear, but excited to be free and stick it to the Freaks who thought they could kept him locked up and take over the world.

After Sonic narrowly escapes the Death Egg in the Slow-Down Shoes (you can clap) and finds Gadget (or “Buddy”) they head to the Arsenal Pyramid… after a change of shoes and a bite to eat, of course.

Sonic continues through the game in a set of spare shoes which make his in-game boost gauge deplete faster. His shoes, as well as his fatigue, keep him from winning out, leading to his partial-victory against Infinite, and landing him and Silver on the sidelines. Gadget takes on missions with other resistance members at his side while Sonic recuperates with Silver.

Tails hears the news Sonic is alive and quickly arrives to the HQ to reunite with his brother. He supplies Sonic with a pair of his iconic shoes, an extra set from the supplies he was able to grab before Eggman took over his labs. Officially recuperated enough, by his standards, Sonic and Tails are officially back in it and ready to get back to the fight.

^^^

You know… I don’t think I’ve ever shared my “rewrites” anywhere but with my friends. Sometimes it gets so complicated in my head it makes it really hard to get everything on paper. A lot of my “Forces rewrite” is handing the characters differently and how that changes the story.

In general, Forces is a… fine enough idea, but SEGA has a reputation for floundering good ideas and for forgetting you can appeal to a young audience while also allowing older kids to enjoy it without making a flat story.

Hearing the difference of “they’ve been torturing Sonic,” (ENG.) and “they’ve been giving him hell,” (JAP.) and “Tails has lost it,” (ENG.), “Tails is still missing,” (JAP.) I realized a lot of what I didn’t like- what I was rewriting- was the tone. It’s one of Force’s biggest issues: it doesn’t know what it wants to be. The Japanese dub seems to have an idea, but that can’t save it from the fact Infinite is A Big Loser and Sonic actually has no reason to be afraid of him, especially if Infinite wasn’t present during his time on the Death Egg… So I’m doing it myself

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #my art #sonic #sonic forces #YOU CAN ASK QUESTIONS BTW!!! there’s nothing much to say #and there’s nothing much to ask #but I LOVE TALKING!!!#forces!RW

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muzansfangs · 1 year

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Hiii! May I request some hc of the reader cockwarming Muzan during a video call with her parents?😎

Cock-warming Muzan during a video call with your parents.

Starring: Muzan x f!reader.

Warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, slightly choking spanking, vaginal sex, oral sex (Muzan receiving).

Format: headcanons.

Plot: Craving your revenge on your husband for having forgotten about your dinner out yesterday, you came up with a perfect plan to make him pay for his sins. Once he came back from a tiring day at work, you allured him into your trap and forced him to endure a real ‘physical torture’ during a video call with your parents. Were you ready to face the consequences of your actions, though?

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

• Unaware of what was yet to come, your husband groaned softly at the way your tongue swirled around the tip of his leaking cock. His fingers were tangled in your hair, his head lolled back on the headrest of his leather armchair. You truly knew how to help him steam off some stress after a long, tiring day at work.

• Well, of course you did. You were enjoying yourself too, after all. Yet, this was not going to last long. Despite your hunger for him and your devotion in satisfying your husband’s needs, giving Muzan a blow job was just a part of your devious plan. Muzan Kibutsuji was not going to get his release tonight, he was going to endure so much frustration and physical pain he would have thought twice the next time, before ‘forgetting’ about another important dinner with you.

• You glanced up at him as he yanked your hair back, his plum red eyes meeting yours in a lustful glare “Ride me” he demanded, watching the way you suavely stood up from between his knees and quickly unzipped your skirt, letting it pool down at your feet.

• Muzan loved watching you strip for him. The power he had over you, the way you always obediently left the items fall on the floor one by one was enticing. He loved seeing you bouncing up and down his cock, feeling your mouth hovering over his one sinfully, as you thought you were the one in control. He found it amusing the way you always tried to break him, but never really succeeded in it.

• If only he knew how the tables were about to turn…

• You bit your lower lip softly, your panties following the destiny of your skirt and landing on the floor as you leant down towards Muzan. You captured his lips in a tender, yet passionate kiss “Your wish is my command” you whispered then, before turning your back at him and lowering yourself onto his erected, throbbing member. Muzan moaned softly, his hands gripping your hips tightly as your walls clamped down on him.

• “Fuck— Feisty, aren’t we? – he breathed out, sitting up and pressing his still covered chest against your back – I did not expect a reverse cowgirl today, but I’m not complaining” he chortled, his mouth latching onto the left side of your neck as you stared at the pc awaiting for the incoming video call from your parents.

• “I feel experimental, babe… – you sneered, rolling your hips even so slightly to elicit one of his guttural, erotic groans from him – I promise you are going to enjoy it”.

• Muzan hummed, his hot breath fanning your earlobe as he snapped his hips up abruptly, making a high-pitched moan to erupt from your throat “Fucking start to ride me like the bitch in heat you are, darling” he hoarsely said, only to narrow his eyes at the pc as the Skype ringtone spread through the room.

• Now, Muzan was one hundred percent sure you were going to ignore the call. Your parents would have understood anyway, thus he chuckled and wrapped one hand around your throat “Ah, imagine your father’s face, if he saw the lewd faces you’re about to make…” he stated, a smug smile plastered over his face.

• Poor Muzan.

• “Mmm, you better not do that because I really have to answer. Face the camera, Mr. Kibutsuji” you whined, right before dragging your finger on the cursor and answering the call.

• Muzan.exe stopped working. His mouth agape, his expression blank as the cheerful faces of your parents appeared on the screen. How dare you? That was what betrayal felt like.

• “Hi mom! Hi daddy!” you greeted your parents, waving your hand at them as if you were not stuffed with the twitching, hard cock of your husband.

• Muzan gulped down nervously, his hand squeezing your hip harshly as if he wanted you to know that you had royally screwed up. However, you were going to give him a very hard time in speaking to them. After all, he deserved it, right? Therefore, you rolled your hips slowly, pretending you were just shifting your position. Muzan stiffened, a groan almost erupting from his throat “Good evening, Mrs and Mr. L/N” he rasped, faking cough to mask the pleasure engulfing his lower abdomen.

• Sweat ran down his back as he was forced to strike up a conversation with your parents. Why did you do that? Why were you punishing him?

• Then your mother spoke and he froze solid, reality dawning on him as a cold shower. His cock almost softened, but you promptly shifted again and he had to clasp his hand over his mouth to fake another stupid coughing fit “How was your dinner yesterday?”.

• “Aww, unfortunately, we had to call it down… — you pouted, planting a kiss on your husband cheekbone, shifting slighty on your seat – As you can see, Muzan is not at his best!”.

• “I wonder why” Muzan almost growled, as his hand slided down towards your clit. Well, if you were going to be a pain in the ass, he was too. As he started rubbing figures eight on your bundle of nerves, careful not to let your parents get a hint of what was going on, your cheeks heated up and you knew you were toasted by the dangerous glint in Muzan’s eyes.

• Long story short, you made up an excuse and ended the call. But, as soon as you did, Muzan lost his temper.

• You did not even had enough time to realize what was happening that you found yourself bent over the desk, Muzan’s hand spanking your ass a few times in a row, before he leant down towards your ear “What the fuck was that, huh? Acting all bitchy for a dinner? Ah, you must be starving! I’ll give you a wholesome meal you’re not going to regret, dear. Daddy is going to take care of you”. With that, he pulled out of you only to pick a feral pace.

• Spoiler Alert: you could not even walk to the bed on your legs, once he was done with you.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! My my, I got a little carried away I think… I’M NOT SORRY THOUGH. I’m a whore for Muzan, but y’all know it already. I hope you have enjoyed this one as much as I did!

Tag: @tired-writer04 because we got a kink for him. Send help, guys💀❤️

#muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan headcanons #muzan x reader #muzan x you #muzan x y/n #muzan smut #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic

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ofskysanddragonsandstars · 4 months

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As many TBB fans, we really missed out on Echo becoming a true member of Clone Force 99. Like yeah, the unresolved trauma, not to mention Fives, but we all known Echo is a little shit, and has been a little shit since his cadets days.

Let's explore this a little more.

Show me Echo finally getting to spar with someone, anyone, and just pulls a nasty move to win. You know, the kind of move that is downright dirty? We all know what i'm talking about. But show me TBB standing there in shock that this twig of a reg just took down someone twice his weight. He does not yet have all his muscle mass back yet! This was supposed to be a warm up for Echo. A way to build up his strength. Instead they get reminded that Echo is an ARC trooper and he has been through a lot.

Show me Echo trying to stop a cafeteria fight by reciting the reg manuals, saying "per regulation, fighting is not allowed in the cafeteria, and if you would have taken the time to read the reg manuals, you would have known that. Can you even read?" and Hunter furiously trying to deescalate the situation and failing. Echo gets sucker punched but the other clone does not get off as easily. Apparently he had to spend the night in the med bay. Echo only feels a little bit guilty.

Show me Echo matching Crosshair's snarkiness with his own. Remember "Bravo for Bravo Squad"? But instead of being angry with each other, it starts a beautiful friendship between the ARC and Snark troopers. The rest of TBB don't get how there friendship works and just have to roll with it.

But overall, let's not forget that ARC training happens on Kamino. Show me Echo being called up by the ARC trainer for demonstration purposes. Afterall, it's not everyday a war hero gets to help train new ARCs (except for Alpha-17, perhaps). Show me a bunch of new ARC recruits looking in astonishment because "holy Prime, that's ARC Echo of the 501st! He withstood the worst torture imaginable! He basically made half the 501st tactics with The Captain Rex of the 501st!" only for Echo to just crush there poor little preconceptions. Because this little shit keeps it real with these recruits, explaining the reality of going on a mission with a zero success rate, of going through torture, of having to build up physical strength to the point that no cyber implants hurt anymore. Echo does not hold back and has no filter, his words are practically as blunt as the dullest blade and it can hurt just as much. But even through that, no recruit can beat him in a spar. Yet. It's become a new challenge within ARC training.

Of course, I am a sucker for Mom Echo during season 1 and 2, but let me see Echo being a little shit before that! Let me see Hunter calling Cody one night after a successful mission asking "what is up with this reg? Are all ARC troopers like this?" And since Cody has known the little shits that make up the Domino Twins he just solemnly nods his head while sniggering on the inside. He calls Rex afterwards. Rex just laughs.

#rex just wipes his hands as if to say not my problem anymore #Cody laughs until he realizes he is Echo's direct Commander now since Clone Force 99 is his jurisdiction #Rex says karma is a bitch #echo is a little shit #the bad batch #arc trooper echo #echo bad batch #tbb echo

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iisasarcasticlittleshite · 4 months

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MC being a Morally grey menace Part 1

It started on their second visit to the Devildom...

During that first year of the exchange program, Lucifer and Diavolo had gone out of their way to hide the more unsightly aspects of the Devildom. But the second time around, when the human just fell from the sky, they didn't exactly have the time to smooth things over.

And yet, MC hadn't batted an eye.

The first incident was when MC walked in on one of Lucifer and Diavolo's meetings, but they weren't alone.

The low-level demon's eyes lit up, and his expression went from pleading to maniacal. This human was everyone's soft spot, surely the prince and his Lord of Pride wouldn't sully themselves in front of their precious human!

"Sorry, did you two hear that Simeon-? Oi!" MC startled as the demon threw himself at their feet.

"Mercy, dear human! Surely you could find it in your heart to grant mercy to this poor, foolish demon!"

Lucifer stepped forward, but even he wasn't quite sure what he was going to do next, apart from yanking that demon away from his human. Diavolo braced to start explaining why this demon was in his office, clad in chains.

But MC, dear, human, MC who should have damn well had some questions about this impromptu torture session they just walked in on, didn't so much as bat an eye.

Lifting a foot, they took one step sideways out of the demon's reach and carried on talking.

"Simeon wanted to ask you two something, just text him when you're done with...this." They gestured vaguely to the crumpled demon on the floor.

"Please, you CAN'T leave me here!"

MC didn't so much as look at him, making their way back to the door. "Don't work too hard boys! And don't forget you're on dinner duty tonight, Lucifer."

"...Of course." Lucifer watched, wide-eyed, as the human calmly walked out the door. He wondered how much explaining he'd need to do later.

To his surprise, the subject was never brought up, and MC's behaviour was utterly unchanged.

Well...not entirely unchanged.

The following week, a couple of locations to one of the Devildom's most popular chains came up with reports of missing inventory and Grimm coming up short.

A robbery, they didn't know by whom.

That week, MC and Mammon had been joined at the hip, even more so than usual, so out of pure curiosity Satan cornered the human in the morning making breakfast.

"These robberies. You wouldn't happen to know anything about them, would you, dearest?"

MC shrugged. "Not a thing."

"Truly? Because a rather large sum of grim is now missing, and you've been spending an awful lot of time with Mammon lately."

MC looked up at Satan, and their eyes flashed golden, their grin almost inhuman. "Not like they'll miss it. They're a multi-million grim company that doesn't pay their employees enough to live."

Satan hardly believed his ears. "MC did you-?"

MC chuckled, and went right back to the eggs they were frying. "I don't know what you're talking about, love. Now help me carry these out."

Satan could have asked more questions, hell, he probably should have, but quite frankly, he's more impressed than anything else, and very much wants to know how they bypassed the security systems next time.

Part 2

#obey me #obey me x mc #om imagines #obey me imagines #obey me mc

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lvrdrafts · 10 months

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Unspoken Apologies

Summary: You are in the hospital and you confess to Bucky the pain you felt during the relationship, but Bucky doesn't deny his true feelings toward you

A/N: I GOT 100 FOLLOWERS OMG TY GUYS SO MUCH!!

Part 1 Part 2

Y/N lay in a sterile hospital room, her body weakened by the torture she had gone through. The doctors had delivered the devastating news that the torture you went through had caused severe damage internally. They had said she wouldn't make it. It was a bleak reality that Y/N was struggling to accept, but there was one person who refused to give up hope - Bucky Barnes.

Bucky paced back and forth outside the room, his heart heavy with worry. He had never seen Y/N so fragile, so vulnerable. The thought of losing her was unbearable. He blamed himself for not being there sooner, for not being there when she needed him the most.

A soft knock on the door interrupted Bucky's restless pacing. Y/N's weak voice called out, "Come in, Bucky."

He entered cautiously, his eyes brimming with concern. Seeing her lying in the hospital bed, her breathing slower and her body more pale, tore at his soul. Bucky had always admired Y/N's strength and resilience, and now it seemed to be slipping away.

Y/N managed a weak smile. "It's so funny, isn't it?" she said softly, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and amusement. "All of this started because I overheard you in the bar, calling me clingy. I tried avoiding you and I wanted you to say 'Hey I miss your clinginess' " you pause holding back tears "but you never did".

Bucky's heart sank as he remembered that conversation. It had been a misunderstanding. He was just stressed and found you as an excuse for his problems. He wanted to apologize, to tell Y/N how wrong he had been, but his words caught in his throat.

"Y/N," he began, his voice choked with emotion. But before he could say anything else, she continued.

"I've always felt like I burdened you, like I was too much for you to handle, and this situation proved my point" Y/N confessed, tears welling up in her eyes. "I guess I just wanted to hear it from you. Am I really a burden to you, Bucky?"

Bucky's silence spoke volumes, and Y/N's heart shattered into a million pieces. The truth was revealed without words, and it was more painful than she could have ever imagined.

Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she clutched her chest, struggling to breathe. Bucky rushed to her side, taking her hand in his, but it was too late. The doctors rushed in, their urgent voices fading into the background as Y/N slipped away.

Bucky knelt beside the lifeless body of the person he loved, overwhelmed with grief and regret. He had allowed his fear and pride to cloud his judgment, to push Y/N away when all she needed was his reassurance.

In that heartbreaking moment, Bucky made a promise to himself. He would carry the weight of his mistakes and regrets for the rest of his life. He would never forget the sound of Y/N's voice, filled with hurt and longing, nor the look of desperation in her eyes as she questioned her own worth.

As Bucky emerged from Y/N's hospital room, his face etched with anguish, he found himself face-to-face with Sam Wilson, who had been anxiously waiting outside.

Sam's eyes widened at the sight of Bucky's devastated expression. "Bucky, what happened?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Bucky's voice trembled as he tried to find the right words. "It's... it's my fault, Sam," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with regret. "Y/N... she overheard a conversation we had, and I never got the chance to make things right, to tell her how sorry I was. And now... now she's gone."

Sam's expression softened as he realized the weight of Bucky's remorse. "What did she hear, Bucky?" he pressed gently, knowing that the answer would reveal the depth of the pain caused.

Bucky's voice cracked as he spoke. "She heard me call her clingy, Sam," he admitted, his voice filled with self-condemnation. "I was stressed, and I took it out on her. I pushed her away when all she needed was my support. I didn't realize how much those words would haunt her, how they would make her doubt her worth. And now... she's paid the price."

Sam's gaze turned cold, his disappointment evident. "She died thinking I hated her," he said, his voice filled with frustration. "She was the only person with me after-"Bucky pauses realizing he's all alone again, as if fate wanted him to be alone. "after Steve left me. She was like an angel who was there and and now she is gone because I was a fucking idiot" Bucky says kicking a trash can to the other side of the hallway.

Bucky's shoulders slumped, his eyes welling up with tears. "I failed her, and now she's gone. I've lost her..."

@marygoddessofmischief @specialsnowflake-gabbi @openup-yourmind @madi-is-kinda-lame @maddieislost @666yourmomdotcom @kentokaze @floralwslokicjand10 @vicmc624 @theroyalmanatee @kandis-mom @elite4cekalyma @sargentbarxes @milanaasblog

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader angst #james barnes x reader #james barnes x reader angst

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phfenomena · 5 months

Text

❝in that lavender haze❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

| request- hear me out! lavender haze with tom 🤭

| A/N- done and done. im hearing you out and im listening so hard. i’ve been high probably like hundreds of times but still cannot properly word it sorry 💔

| WARNINGS- marijuana consumption (mega slay), kissing, eating, wine, tiktok, tooth rotting fluff,

(divider by @benkeibear)

the feeling of your lungs being filled with smoke made you giddy, everything with sharp edges turning soft and fuzzy. coughing lightly at the larger hit you’d taken you passed the blunt to your left, to tom.

your eyes fixed on the way his lips wrapped around it and the way he closed his eyes at the sensation. your hopeless crush on your mutual friend with rachel had been developing for months, seeing him at every gathering and meet up.

he was fairly nice and polite, the true english way. you just wished he’d converse with you, more than small talk. you’re laying on your back on the floor and studying the swirling patterns on the ceiling. out of your peripheral vision you see tom lay down next to you.

staring at the ceiling with you, you don’t ever say too much. and you don’t really read into my melancholia.

“you don’t have much to say, do you?” you question into the air hoping that tom would cling on. he hums and says “yeah, i don’t know what you like or what you don’t like so i jus’ say nothing.” you turn your head to face him- all caution thrown to the wind. you find it hard to care about your words in your state. “when i first met you i thought you hated me, you wouldn’t talk to me like how you talked to everyone else. thought i might’ve done something. sometimes i still think that.” you confess and it hangs lowly over both of you.

“i was honestly kind of scared of you. in my head you’re this cool actress who does slashers and everyone loves her. i didn’t wanna say the wrong thing.” you smile and place your hand on your chest. “you think i’m cool? i think you’re cooler, tom.”

his eyes crinkle when he laughs and you love it. you find it hard to decipher where the high ends and where how tom makes you feel starts, but they’re mixing. “i think you’re really cool. you do these cool like artistic horror movies and i’m kind of obsessed with your acting.”

i find it dizzying, they’re bringing up my history. but you aren’t even listening.

the group on the couch and chairs above you pass a bottle of wine and finish off the blunt. your friend laughs loudly and you turn to look at him. “do you remember that time last year when you dated the like entire cast of that one movie? what’s it called? i can’t remember. that was funny as shit.” you cringe and cover your face trying to forget.

tom lightly grazes your shoulder with his finger and whispers “are you hungry? i really want pizza right now.” you smile and nod. he wasn’t going to ask about your questionable past times. he pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. “i can’t function enough to order pizza, could you do it?” you happily nod and scroll your way through the menu before you both agree on toppings you both like.

i just wanna stay in that lavender haze. talk your talk and go viral, i just need this love spiral.

the pair had found themselves in a corner, talking and giggling over pizza whilst telling stories. “yeah! and she kept asking when i was going to settle down and get married. during an interview for a horror movie.” tom shakes his head and laughs. “i couldn’t get through one promo or interview without someone showing me at-least one edit of me. it was torture.” you pull your phone out and show him how edits of him had filled your timeline.

“you’re literally everywhere. i’m not complaining but sometimes i want to see something else!” he picks his phone up and shows your his own home page. “i’m sorry i ruined your tiktok, but this might make up for it.” his entire for you page was filled with edits of you and you co-stars from your latest movie.

you laugh and watch them “i had no idea people made edits of me, i feel honored. it’s like a right of passage.” he sets his phone down as well as his pizza. “they only the use the same ten clips of you covered in blood, i need more content.” you place you own pizza down and lean towards him.

“do you wanna know a secret i’m not supposed to tell anyone?” he nods and leans closer. “i’m gonna in the next scream movie and i’m one of the ghostface’s, you’re gonna see me murdering on the big screen.” he raises his eyebrows and you barley take into account how close your faces are.

“i love everything you’re in. when i first met you, i went home and watched everything you’ve done.” he confesses with a smile and red eyes. “i did the exact same thing, rachel told me i was creepy! we’re like each others biggest fans.”

get it off your chest, get it off my desk. that lavender haze, i just wanna stay.

you’re sitting in the bathtub of your bathroom passing a blunt back and forth between you and tom. “it’s so much quieter in here, i love them but they’re so loud.” you say leaning your head back on the tile. he softly chuckles and looks at you. “i can’t believe we could’ve been hanging out for months, i should’ve just talked to you.” you smile and set the blunt in the ashtray you brought with you.

“yeah but where’s the fun in that? this is probably the best night i’ve had in a while.” you turn to look at him and you study his features. you’ve never had a chance to really look at him, your glossy eyes try to memorize each slope and curve of his face.

“can i kiss you?” you whisper out before even realizing you’ve said it. he mutters a small ‘yes’ and you’re leaning in, like your body’s on autopilot. he tastes like weed and pizza, you couldn’t find a bone in your body that cared. you sluggishly manage to inch onto his lap. “you’re so pretty.” he whispers in between kisses. his hands find purchase on your waist, not letting you even dream of getting off of him.

you reluctantly pull back and his lips chase yours. “do you wanna hang out tomorrow?” you ask him with a smile. “i would be honored, maybe i’ll take you out on a real date.” his hands are rubbing small circles on your waist. “the press is gonna love that one.” you mutter out before leaning back into him.

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moonstruckme · 6 months

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Can we get a poly!marauders with a reader who has just lost their best friend(not dead, they’re just not friends because they’re friend started being a not nice person) and the reader starts to think its their fault/insecure reader :))) thanks

Thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 540 words

There’s an odd thing that love does when it changes. It doesn’t go away, just sits exactly where it used to in the center of your chest, and sours. Curdles.

The ache behind your ribs feels almost familiar, but the pain has lost its pleasantness and it’s just pain. You swallow against it, but it won’t go away, even as James rubs firm circles around the area of affliction on your back.

“Don’t torture yourself,” Remus tells you softly, looking up at you from the floor beside where you sit on the bed. “You did the best thing.”

You nod like you believe him, but your voice is leaden with doubt. “It feels so weird to go from talking to someone every day to not talking to them at all.”

James makes a sympathetic sound. “You said it yourself, sweetheart, they’re not the same person you wanted to talk to every day. You’re just looking out for yourself.”

Looking out for yourself. It sounds selfish to your ears, though you know it shouldn’t. You’re used to looking out for the people you love, and now you’ve gone and left one of them behind. Your eyes flit almost unwillingly to one of the pictures taped to your wall. It’s too small to make out, but you know it well, one of the many of you and your best friend scattered about your home. What are you supposed to do with those now, throw them out?

Sirius reads your mind (he’s scary good at that sometimes), the mattress shifting as he leans towards you. “Just because you’re not close anymore doesn’t mean you have to hate them, or forget that you were happy during some of the time you were close.” He gives you a rare sorrowful look, raw in its understanding. You feel closer to tears than you have since you’d made the decision. “I know it’s hard to move on, but it’ll be easier if you’re fair with yourself about it. You did the best you could. It’s not your job to figure their shit out for them.”

You nod, a hot tear cresting your cheek. “You’re right,” you tell him, or maybe all of them. “I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of this.”

“Hey,” James chides, palm pressing harder into your back like he can push the hurt right out of you. “Don’t be. It’s a big deal to you, yeah?”

You nod again, wiping your face with the heel of your hand before another tear can make it very far.

“Then it is a big deal,” he says. Remus hums his agreement, looking at you with sad, worried eyes. “It’s okay to be sad for a while. Just so long as you’re not blaming yourself, alright?”

You swallow, leaning your head on his shoulder as thanks. “None of you guys can ever change like that, okay?” You’re aiming for lightness, but the effect is diminished by the croakiness of your voice. “I’ll have a very hard time ditching you, self-preservation or no.”

Sirius makes a derisive sound, playing along as he bumps your shoulder with his. “Yeah,” he scoffs, “good fucking luck with that one. Try to shake me, and I’ll latch onto your ankles.”

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unseededtoast · 6 months

Text

I’ve Got My Eye On You | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: A piece of Spencer Reid died the day Tobias Hankle kidnapped and tortured him. Seeing your friend in desperate need of help, you take it upon yourself to keep an eye on him and help him every step of the way, no matter how hard those steps may be. Inspired by “Say Yes To Heaven” by Lana Del Rey.

Content warnings: mention/discussion of addictions, narcotics references, withdrawal description.

wc: 9.3k

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted

a/n: thank you to all who take time to read my stories. I appreciate each and everyone of you, and you all deserve the softest forehead kisses.

- - - - -

"Spencer I know what Tobias did to you, and I want you to know that I'm here for you. You're one of my closest friends and I don't want you to feel like you have to handle this on your own. It's not your fault, and what he did to you was wrong, please don't blame yourself. And please let me help you, I know you'd do the same for me. I can't lose you to this, you mean too much to me and you deserve to be free of this torment." Your throat constricts with emotion and you can't help the single tear that rolls down your cheek.

"I've tried to stop but I can't." Spencer's voice cracks through his tears, beckoning you to lift your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are tear-filled and his grip on your hands tightens. Sniffling, you nod your head, prepared to take on this challenge with him.

- - - -

A part of Spencer Reid died the day he was kidnapped by Tobias Hankle. You noticed it like day turned to night. After he had been rescued, there was a hollowness in his eyes you had never seen before. The rest of the team seemed quick to move on and it's like they almost disregarded the horrors and trauma Spencer endured.

But you were not as quick to forget, nor did you brush it under the rug. You had taken note of the needle tracks left in his arms when he was rescued, and you were keenly aware that narcotics addiction is one hell of a beast to slay. And so you took it upon yourself to keep an eye on him; you were not about to lose one of your closest friends, and it became obvious that nobody else was going to be there to support him.

As you look across the bullpen to the man who occupies your thoughts you reminisce about the Spencer you knew before the tragedy. He was bright-eyed and innocent, socially awkward but charming in his own way. And while many of those things are still true, he's changed.

You've noticed how he's taken on a much more serious tone on cases, how he's becoming more skeptical of people. And you don't miss how his fingers find their way into his pockets during stressful conversations or how he's developing a short temper. Alarm bells sound off in your head and you wonder how the others could be missing this. But you know if nobody else is going to intervene and help him, then you will.

Spencer turns around with papers in his hands and you avert your gaze quickly, not wanting to be caught staring at him. The clock lets you know it's time to go home and the other team members head out the door with farewells. You politely say your goodbyes to them but hang back intentionally.

The bullpen is occupied only by you and Spencer now. It's not unusual for either of you to work over, but this time you're not staying for the paperwork. While Spencer wraps up his work you feign busyness, you don't want him to become skeptical of you. This plan had been mulling over in your mind for a week now, and you've just now been able to find the courage to act on it.

Twenty minutes pass before you see Spencer start wrapping up his final report, and so you casually begin packing up as well. What a coincidence that you two finished at the same time. You stand from your chair and shrug your coat on, preparing for the crisp air that awaits you outside.

"Hey, if you want I can give you a ride home. The buses stopped an hour ago and it's pretty cold out." You softly break the silence between the two of you. Spencer stops in his tracks and you see the conflict on his face. You hope he takes you up on your offer, your entire plan kind of hinges on it. After a few fleeting moments of contemplation, he nods his head.

"Sure, that would be nice. Thank you." He gives you a small smile and you let out a breath you were unaware of holding. The two of you walk side by side out of the building and into the cold air, where your breath turns to white clouds.

"How'd your reports go?" You ask, trying to keep a conversation flowing. Your stomach turns in nervousness and you remind yourself of what's at stake so as to not back out of your plan for fear of rejection or failure.

"They went okay." His answer is too short for your liking. As you buckle your seatbelt you notice how his hand finds it way into his coat pocket. Your heart drops, but you remain casual as you start driving towards his apartment.

"So do you actually think we're going to get a full weekend off?" So far your plan is going almost as well as you had hoped, and you count down the minutes before you'll arrive at Spencer's building. He sighs in the seat next to you,

"Maybe. I think I heard JJ and Hotch talk about a no-contact weekend unless it's an absolute emergency." He turns his head to look out of the window and you swallow your nerves. You only hope that he's not trying to read your body language.

"So any fun plans this weekend then?" You come to a stop at a light and look over to Spencer. From the soft glow of the street lamp you see how tired he looks, and your heart aches for your friend.

"No. You?" His answer is simpler than the ones he usually gives you; conciseness is also a new development it seems.

"Nothing particularly fun." You honestly answer before pulling up to the curb next to his apartment. Pushing back all doubts that float in your mind, you know the time has come and only hope that things turn out well.

Spencer goes to reach for the door handle, uttering a thank you, but you reach out and grab his bicep to keep him in the car for just a few more moments. Your heart thumps in your chest as he settles back into the seat and looks at you with curiosity. Taking a deep breath, you decide to just rip the bandaid off and be straightforward with him.

"Spencer. There's something I want to talk to you about." Your eyes meet his, faces only illuminated faintly from the street.

"What is it?" There's no trace of skepticism in his voice and it gives you a boost of hopefulness. So far his short temper hasn't effected your relationship with him, but you know full well that this conversation could change that.

You and Spencer had developed a good friendship over the years. The two of you were hired around the same time and so it was easy to bond over being the newbies on the team. And after a few years the two of you had been able to build a strong bond based on trust and respect; he was one of the few people you know you can count on. You trust him with your life and now you hope he trusts you with his.

Keeping a gentle hand on his arm, you want him to know that what you're about to say is coming from a place of love.

"You know I care about you, right?" You start off your rehearsed lines, careful to pick your wording just right so that he doesn't feel attacked or judged. His head nods almost instantly.

"Of course." He says, and you see the authenticity clearly in his eyes. But they're not the eyes you've come to know, you see within them the anguish he's going through.

Though you had practiced these words several times over the week, saying them out loud makes this situation all too real for you. The reality hits you like a brick wall that if Spencer doesn't get some help, his life may be on the line.

Spencer's jaw sets tightly and you see his eyes follow the tear down your cheek. Your lower lip quivers as you try to keep your composure, but once you see his jaw waver, your façade cracks. Soon enough, you and Spencer are crying together, both of you gripping onto each other's hands like a lifeline.

His hands shake as they grab onto yours, enveloping them completely. You know the tremors aren't from nerves, and it causes you to cry harder. All you want is for him to be free of this addiction.

"You don't have to do it alone. I'm right here with you, every step of the way." You rest your hand on his cheek, letting him know that your words are true. And though you have a long road ahead of you, you know you'd walk across fiery coals every second of your life for him.

- - - - -

The road to recovery is one full of bumps, twists, and turns. You knew that this would be difficult, but you had severely underestimated just how challenging it was going to get.

As soon as Spencer had accepted your offer of help, you had done everything you could to educate yourself about narcotics addiction and how to support someone who is seeking recovery. An interesting fact you had come across was that the withdrawal symptoms for Dilaudid addiction typically cease quicker than other drug withdrawals, but they're more intense. And this had never been clearer than it is right now.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" Your hand brushes hair out of Spencer's eyes as he lays on the couch, drenched in sweat with shaking hands.

He had been running a fever for a few hours now, and developed nausea and anxiety recently; all normal and expected symptoms but that didn't mean they were easy to handle.

"Some space." He snaps back quickly, and you try hard not to take it personally. Irritability is also an unfortunate side effect of withdrawal.

With a sigh, you back away from him and walk over to the window, which has frosted over with fresh snow. Due to the holiday season, Hotch gave everyone two weeks off to celebrate Christmas and also New Year. Spencer had asked you to stay with him during these two weeks so that he could quit, and of course you said yes.

It's not like you had family plans anyway, the team is more of your family than blood relatives at this point. And before you arrived at Spencer's you had delivered gifts to the rest of the team, peddling a story of how you're going on a vacation during the break, so that they don't contact you. And how you wished you were on a tropical island sipping a fruity drink somewhere instead of watching your best friend writhe in pain.

Turning your head slightly to look over at him, you see his trembling hands ball themselves into fists over and over again, a likely coping mechanism for the torment he's experiencing. From the research you've done, you know the worst is yet to come.

- - - - -

Hours later, in the middle of the night, you hear Spencer make his way to the bathroom. Seconds later you hear him get sick and you check the watch on your wrist. According to your estimates, he's likely hitting the peak of withdrawal symptoms.

Sighing and rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you cautiously enter his room and see the bathroom light on. Spencer's hunched over the toilet, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat that's dripping down his temple. Upon hearing your arrival, he looks over to you in the doorway and you've never seen a more pleading look.

Instead of just standing and staring, you move to run cold water over a cloth and place it on the back of his neck. Another wave of sickness comes over him, and you kneel beside him, rubbing circles on his back to try and bring some sort of comfort to him.

After the nausea has ceased, he collapses back against the wall. You take the cloth from around his neck and gingerly wipe away the sweat and clean up around his mouth.

"It's okay Spence, you're doing great. I'm proud of you." You whisper and place a kiss to his forehead, and you mean every single word.

You sit beside him and his clammy hand finds yours, and he holds it tight. Your eyes travel up his arm, seeing the faint marks from previous needle injection and you hope that they fade quickly, he doesn't need a constant reminder.

"Did you get rid of it?" He asks suddenly, startling you out of you focus. His head is tipped back against the wall and his eyes are closed.

"I got rid of it all. Nothing is left here." You confirm to him with a gentle squeeze of his hand.

Earlier when you arrived the first step was for you to destroy the vial of Dilaudid and all the needles he had so that when this stage of withdrawal came around he wouldn't be able to give into the intense cravings.

"I need it." He says, eyes opening and staring into yours. Spencer's eyes are glazed over and watery. You shake your head, encouraging him to keep going.

"No, you don't need it. This is the peak of the withdrawal Spence. A few more hours and things will get easier." You recite the information you remember from your research.

As if he's suddenly disgusted with you, he drops your hand and looks away, pushing his own hair out of his face. His jaw tenses and his foot starts tapping against the floor.

"Get out of here." His tone is harsh, and your heart drops, but you listen to him.

Without a word, you leave his bedroom and close the door behind you. You know that the withdrawal is wreaking havoc on his mind and body, but it's hard to watch and hear your best friend behave so differently.

You go to take a seat in his couch, and reminisce on the good times the two of you shared here. There were weekend nights spent completing puzzles and making cookies together, and other times you just lounged around while he read. The connection you two shared was an easy going one, there were never any expectations and you two were just content with each other's company.

You can't wait to have those nights back, and you know they may not happen for a while. And that's okay, as long as Spencer was getting better that's more than you can ask for.

- - - - -

One week had passed and thankfully Spencer's condition improved greatly. His hands no longer tremble, he doesn't break out into cold sweats anymore, and his personality is beginning to shine through again. Sure, there are still some bouts of anxiety and irritability, but overall you couldn't be happier with his progress.

While you wait for him to get up for the day, you make him some pancakes and bacon. His appetite had also made a reappearance. The maple smell wafts throughout his apartment and makes your tummy grumble.

The sound of Spencer's bedroom door opening cues you to turn on the coffee pot, so that he can have some fresh coffee with his breakfast. You place his favorite mug beside the pot and flip the bacon, estimating another two minutes before everything is ready.

"Good morning." Spencer's raspy morning voice says from behind you. He walks around you, mindlessly placing a hand on your waist as he squeezes past you to get to the coffee pot.

The warmth of his fingers on your waist in the cool air of the apartment sends a wave of heat through you before taking residence in your cheeks. Spencer had touched you a hundred times before, but his touch had never elicited a response from your body like this before.

"Good morning, how'd you sleep?" You ask, trying to distract yourself from whatever it was your body was doing.

After pouring steaming hot coffee into his mug and dumping a small ton of sugar into it, he leans back against the counter. Unable to help yourself, you glance over at him and see his unruly hair and take note that he's decided to wear his glasses today. Another wave of warmth radiates through you.

"Good, I didn't wake up once throughout the night." He says with a small smile, sipping his coffee. You match his smile, happy to hear that he's made another improvement.

You turn the burners off on the stove and motion for him to help himself. He sets his mug down on the counter and you turn to get yourself ready for the day. Not that you're going anywhere, you just prefer to feel a little put together. Plus, this gives you a reason to get away from Spencer's observant eyes. What if he noticed something was weird with you this morning?

Mind occupied with dissecting your own feelings, you manage to toss on a sweater and some comfortable sweats, not even bothering to see if they match or not. No, your brain is too wrapped up in decoding why your body had reacted the way it did to Spencer's touch.

In all the years you two had been friends, he had touched you like that before to get past you, he had held your hand after particularly hard cases so you could fall asleep on the jet, and yet none of those times made you feel like he just had in the kitchen. So what exactly had changed?

The question plays itself over and over in your mind as you rejoin him at the dining table for breakfast. Only the soft ticking of the clock and the occasional scrape of a fork across a plate can be heard. It's typical for the two of you to share your mornings relatively peacefully, letting each other wake up for the day. It's a calm routine, one you know you'll miss after this is all over.

"Are you ready to get back to work next week?" Spencer breaks the silence, finishing off his bacon.

"Yes and no. I'll miss the free time, but it'll feel good to get back out there. What about you?" You admit that you're not completely ready to get back into the swing of things, you've found that you quite enjoy spending your days with Spencer.

"I'm just ready to be back to myself." He says, a soft smile on his face. You nod knowingly,

"You will be, Spence." You fight the urge to reach across the table for his hand, afraid of how your body may betray you again, so instead, you offer him your most genuine gaze. But it hardly conveys the sincerity you want it to.

"I still crave it, and I know that once I'm back out there I'll want it even more." He tells you with a sigh. Unfortunately, craving the drug of choice is a lasting side effect, especially for those experiencing stress.

"That may be true but you've worked so hard to get here. And I'll be there for you, never forget that. If it ever feels like it's too much, come to me and we'll work through it. I promise." Spencer's eyes look slightly enlarged from his glasses, and it only allows you to see their beauty enhanced; it's like you could spend hours swimming in them.

"I know, thank you." His voice drops to a whisper, and you know he means it. Spencer has never been very good at expressing his feelings or emotions, but you know him well enough to understand the depth of his sentiment.

The two of you spend the rest of the day together tangled in blankets to keep warm. Spencer chooses to read while you only pretend to read, your focus is stuck on Spencer for some odd reason. Your back is up against the couch's armrest which gives you a clear view of Spencer overtop the book you're "reading".

You can't help but to admire the delicate crease in between his eyes as he scans the words on the page, or appreciate the soft curl of his hair that falls to his shoulders. Of course these are all things you had noticed before, but it's like you're seeing them in a new light, like it's all new. An unfamiliar feeling blooms within you but you're unable to put a finger on it.

You're sure it's nothing more than caring for you friend. Right?

- - - - -

The first day back to the office comes sooner than you would've liked. Last night you spent the night alone in your own apartment, just like any other night, except it felt oddly empty and cold. And this morning when you woke, you had almost expected to see Spencer sitting at your dining room table with a cup of hot coffee in his hands. But instead you were met with a barren table, the sweet smell of coffee nowhere to be found.

When you reach the office building you're thankful for the distraction it offers. Everyone is in good spirits from the extended break, and even you find yourself excited to get on another case. The team congregates in the briefing room, and Spencer strolls in at the last second and takes a seat next to you like always.

You turn to greet him and notice the dark circles underneath his eyes and your heart drops to your stomach. It's only been one night alone, surely he didn't give into temptation. But to your relief, he gives you a sly head shake and a thumbs up, as if he could read your mind. Perhaps he also didn't sleep well last night.

JJ presents the case as usual, and Hotch tells the team to be wheels up in thirty. You know you'll have to review the case file on the jet, your mind was anywhere except the case and you hope that you're able to get your head in the game before the team lands and starts working the case.

- - - - -

It seems your wishes for a clear head go unanswered. The team had successfully caught the unsub, but you felt guilty because you know you were distracted the entire time. Sure, you helped out where you could and still did your job, but you know that your analyses were not as thorough as usual.

Instead of being fully dedicated to the case, you kept glancing over to Spencer every few minutes and found your thoughts seemingly to revolve around him. Sometimes he would see you looking and other times not. But when he did catch your eye, a bundle of nerves within your stomach would ignite themselves, leading you further into your mystery.

There's just no good reason for you to be reacting like that to something as simple as his gaze. It's perplexing you, a puzzle you can't quite seem to put together. Nothing had changed between you two, there's no clear reason why you would begin having these feelings.

"Meeting for drinks tonight?" Garcia walks into the bullpen as the team arrives back, in a chipper mood as always.

You wait to see how others answer, not particularly in the mood to go. You would much rather go back home in silent contemplation or maybe see if Spencer wanted company. Seeing as how bars weren't really your scene, it was common for you and Spencer to find something else to do together. Usually you two would end up agreeing to a movie or going for dinner somewhere.

"Sure." Morgan answers first, slinging his jacket over his shoulders. Emily and JJ agree as well and you watch as Penelope waltzes over to Spencer.

"How about you my favorite resident genius?" She nudges him with her shoulder. As if on instinct, he looks over to you. You know his mind is going down the same path yours is, deciding whether or not to go. To answer his silent request, you simply shrug your shoulders.

"Uh, yeah sure." He eventually answers, loosening the tie around his neck. A part of you is grateful he said yes, you know this will give you plenty of opportunities to distract your mind.

The team enters a familiar bar, providing some comfort though the environment is anything but tranquil. Everyone takes a seat around a table, chattering about the case and everything else that comes to mind.

"What's up with you tonight?" Morgan asks, nudging your arm. With a sigh, you shake your head and look at the drink swirling in your glass.

"I don't know. I guess I just feel a little off." You admit, but fall short of the whole truth. You should've known, working with profilers, that one of them was bound to pick up on your unusual behavior. Giving you a knowing nod, Morgan brings you in for a side hug,

"Happens to the best of us sometimes." He says, and you nod, knowing he's right. During your time on the team you've seen everyone experience a lull of some sort. Maybe that's what this all is, just some weird mental lull.

The rest of the night goes off without much excitement. That is, until everyone is about ready to leave. As you grab your jacket off the back of the chair you notice Morgan lean in to whisper something in Spencer's ear. You watch as their eyes flit across the bar to a woman who's staring right back at Spencer.

A nauseous feeling rises within you, but you force yourself to be quiet and watch as Spencer smiles to Morgan before crossing the bar to talk to her. In all your years of knowing Spencer, this was out of pattern behavior if you've ever seen it.

"Come on pretty girl, I think our boy is finally catching on." Morgan wraps his arms around your shoulder and guides you out of the bar. The last thing you see is the woman wrap her arms around Spencer's neck.

The walk home is so much colder and lonelier than it usually is.

- - - - -

Months later, you realize that the feelings Spencer gives you aren't going away. In fact, you think they've only become more prevalent with each brush of his fingertips and each smile he gives you. But, you've done a good job suppressing them so far for the sake of the friendship. After all, you and Spencer work closely together during cases and still keep up your routine friendship activities.

Or at least, you did up until three weeks ago.

Something happened around three weeks ago that you haven't been able to put your finger on. Spencer's been distancing himself from you little by little, but it's glaringly obvious to you. At first it was skipping a planned movie night and then it was taking a rain check for dinner at his favorite Thai place. And then during cases you'd noticed how he doesn't joke with you as much and that he almost avoids your gaze.

Sitting at your desk, you look across the bullpen and try to zone in on the conversation Spencer is having with Morgan. It seems Morgan has become Spencer's confidante of choice these days. And while you want to respect Spencer's choice, you can't help but wonder why he doesn't come to you anymore. A piece of you feels hollow without Spencer around as much as he used to be.

You considered that maybe you had simply become too attached to his presence during his detox, and that you're overthinking everything. Maybe this is all just in your head. You try to convince yourself of any other explanation, but a nagging voice in the back of your head tells you that it's something wrong with you, that he just doesn't want to share a close relationship anymore.

Later in the day, you find Morgan in the break room and decide to get some answers. As casually as you can, you join Derek in finding a snack.

"Can I ask you something?" You keep your voice quiet, and give Derek a look to let him know that this isn't one of your jokes. Standing straighter, he nods.

"Of course pretty girl." You pick at the skin around your nails before you can force yourself to say the words.

"Is Spencer okay?" You tread lightly, unsure of how much Derek is willing to give you.

"Yeah, he's fine. Why?" Derek's eyebrow quirks and you sigh, knowing you have to come clean to him or he won't let it go.

"It's just that he doesn't hang out with me much anymore and he hasn't been talking to me. We used to go out at least once a week and we always talked. I don't know if I did, or said, something." You meet Derek's eyes reluctantly but see no traces of judgment in his expression. He reaches out and puts a hand on your shoulder.

"I don't know if I'm supposed to keep this under wraps or not, but I think you deserve to know. He's been, um, putting himself out there lately." Your eyebrows scrunch together, not following what Derek is trying to say.

"Putting himself out there?" You ask for clarification but a pit of dread begins forming in your stomach. Derek licks his lips and offers you a sad smile, the pit of despair grows.

"It seems that he's becoming quite popular with the ladies." Is all Derek has to say before it sinks in. Your mouth goes dry and you suddenly lost your appetite for your snack. Pushing yourself off the countertop, you give Derek a rushed thank you before retreating back to your desk.

Spencer's sitting at his own, filling out paperwork and you can't help but to look at him in a different light. If you concentrate hard enough, you think you can see traces of bruises on his neck. They're faint enough that you wouldn't really be able to tell they're there unless you were looking for them.

Your heart hurts with the realization, you miss your friend dearly. After helping him detox you were sure that there was nothing getting between your friendship, but you guess other women seem to have won his favor.

Images of Spencer's lips on other women makes your skin crawl. This behavior just isn't like him. It's almost as if he's traded one addiction for another.

Your blood runs cold as the thought crosses your mind. In your studies of addiction during detox, you had read about addiction transference and how people who are prone to addictions can sometimes trade off. In Spencer's case it seems like he's traded the needle for sexual gratification.

While his dependence on Dilaudid was easy to pinpoint and treat, sex addiction is another beast entirely. This kind of addiction gets brushed under the rug by a lot of people, and commonly isn't seen as an issue. And truthfully, if it was anyone but Spencer, you may not have even noticed or cared. But as images of his hands on other women's bodies, his lips attached to their neck, their hands traveling his body flood your mind, you realize that you care a lot.

The realization dawns on you that you're actually feeling jealous of these faceless and nameless women.

- - - - -

Your patience is tested two weeks later, when the team is out celebrating another victory. And instead of Spencer sitting beside you or Morgan like usual, he's across the bar talking to a beautiful woman.

Through your jealousy you try to figure out when Spencer became such a social person, it's unlike the man you became friends with. Never would you have ever imagined that Spencer regularly seeks out women to spend his nights with. But here you sit, watching as he leans in and whispers something in her ear.

Your face runs hot and you tip back your glass, desperate to go numb. You had known Spencer was partaking in this lifestyle, but it's something entirely different when you're face to face with it and be forced to actually acknowledge what's happening.

"Woah that's your fourth already. You good?" Garcia asks from beside you, nursing her second drink. Ripping your gaze away from Spencer, you give Garcia a wide smile.

"Never been better." The sarcasm drips from your voice. You slip from your seat and go to the bar, your steps only slightly wobbly.

Purposely, you take a spot beside the woman Spencer's talking to, partially to eavesdrop and partially to get the bartender's attention. The woman beside you giggles insufferably at something Spencer said, causing you to tap your fingers against the bar top impatiently waiting for the bartender.

After you finally get another drink in your hand and turn to go back to the team, your eye catches Spencer's. His gemstone eyes meeting yours is enough to cause your heart to stop beating. Your lips fall apart, suddenly overwhelmed with sadness. You miss Spencer so much.

But unfortunately he doesn't keep your gaze for long, as the woman beside him runs her hands up his chest. Fighting the urge to get violent, or get sick, you give him a half-hearted smile before returning to your spot.

Perhaps you should've cherished your time with him more. Maybe you shouldn't have taken for granted your movie nights, shared dinners, or days spent underneath the same blankets. You certainly should've been more appreciative for his friendship. And now that all of that is gone you feel lost.

Drowning your sorrows with tequila, you understand that it's not just jealousy that fills you. You had actually fallen in love with your best friend. And now you're destined to watch him love other women.

You only wish it could be you.

- - - - -

"Rough night pretty boy?" Derek teases Spencer across his desk. Your eyes look over just in time to watch Spencer adjust his sweater and rub his eyes.

"Something like that." He answers, a faint blush creeping up to his cheeks. The wave of emotion that washes over you is the perfect storm of sadness, grief, and anger.

Unable to handle hearing their conversation, you abruptly get up from your desk and carry your paperwork back to Garcia's office. You know her office is like a safe haven, and truthfully, you're hoping she can brighten your dreary mood.

Knocking on her door lightly, you hear her invite you in. Like a child coming to their parents' room, you peek in before entering all the way. Screens are lit up across her desks and it looks like she's completing ten tasks at once.

"Are you busy? If this is a bad time I don't have to-"

"Nonsense, come here." She interrupts you and clears off a space for you to put your things. At least you can still count on Garcia.

You sit next to her and open the folder, half of your report already written. As you go to put pen to paper again, Penelope speaks up.

"Are you gonna tell me why you're here?" She has a knowing tone. Your pen taps against the desk a few times as you decide on what to tell her.

"I just needed a change of scenery" Your voice isn't very convincing, and you know she doesn't buy it from the look on her face.

"Okay and now the truth?" She asks, voice light yet firm. Relenting, you decide that it's not fair to yourself to keep your emotions bottled up, where they'll inevitably erupt.

"I guess it's just that, it's silly really, but I think I just miss Spencer." You attempt to downplay the severity of your feelings. But Penelope, in her typical fashion, presses you for more because she knows there's more to the story than you care to let on.

"He's right out there." She points out and you shake your head.

"Yeah but he's not him, if that makes any sense. We never hang out anymore and we rarely even talk to each other. And we used to be so close. But maybe he just outgrew me." You think out loud, fingers playing with the pen in your hand to try and distract your mind from all the racing thoughts.

"Outgrew you? Not a chance, he adores you." She says like it's a fact, but you have trouble believing it.

"Maybe he did some time ago, but he's adoring other women now. Lots of them." You can't hide the disdain in your voice. Every time you think about someone else with Spencer, it makes your blood boil. The selfish part of you wants him all to yourself, you want more shared mornings together and you crave more afternoons spent next to one another.

"Well, that may be true, but, I know him well enough to know that he still cares about you. I see the way he looks at you from across the room. Have you tried talking to him about it?" Of course Garcia would offer a logical and mature way to handle the situation. And you're thankful for her level head, because the way you want to deal with the situation involves dragging a woman by her hair out of his apartment.

"I don't even know what I would say that wouldn't make me sound like a kid who saw their friend playing with someone else at recess." You drop your pen on the desk, frustrated with your feelings. Penelope puts a hand on your shoulder, and you look up to meet her eyes.

"You've been friends for years now, I think he probably misses you too." She tells you, a soft look in her eye that lets you know she's being genuine.

"Maybe." You shrug.

"Finish your report and before you leave for the weekend talk to him." She spins around in her chair and gets back to work, allowing you to finish your report in peace.

Her words play over and over in your mind, and you realize that she has a good point. There's no way that after being friends for so long, and going through a detox together, that he just doesn't miss you either. You know Spencer well enough to know that he's a creature of habit, he likes routine; and lately he hasn't had much of one.

Feeling more like a bad friend for not checking in on him, you talk yourself into seeking him out at the end of the day. He's not responsible for your feelings, and you shouldn't have taken his actions so personally. Spencer is your friend first, and you've been neglecting your end of the friendship. Though, a voice in the back of your mind reminds you that he has as well.

Soon enough, the end of the day rolls around and you turn your report into Hotch. Thankfully Spencer is still here, collecting his things before heading out. It seems everyone else has left for the most part. With a deep breath, you swallow your pride and walk over to him.

"Hey." Your voice is meek and much weaker than you had hoped for. Startled by your presence, Spencer turns around. Your eyes meet his but trail down his neck, where there are sure signs of bruises. But this isn't about you, you try to remind yourself. This is about making sure your friend is okay.

"Hey." He greets you back, shrugging his coat over his sweater. There's an obvious tension between you two, and so you just decide to rip the bandaid off.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, making yourself keep your eyes on his face. Spencer's eyebrows crease together,

"Everything is fine, why?" He acts as if your question is coming out of left field. Finding it difficult to come out and say what you really mean, you shift your weight from foot to foot.

"It's just that we haven't really talked much lately and I just want to make sure that you're okay." You tell him truthfully.

"I'm fine." He tells you and glances down at his watch.

"Any fun weekend plans?" You ask, knowing full well that his answer could ruin your mood for the rest of the night.

"Um, yeah. I'm supposed to meet a friend tonight. But, you could come over tomorrow if you wanted to? Or we could go somewhere?" He offers, and a smile finds its way to your face.

"I'll be there tomorrow, I'll send you a text when I'm on my way." You tell him, satisfied with your plans. He gives you a quick nod before leaving the office to go meet whoever it is that he has plans with. You doubt that he even knows her name.

But you take some comfort in knowing that you'll be able to spend time with him tomorrow. And maybe, just maybe, it'll be exactly what the two of you need to smooth things out and go back to how things used to be.

- - - - -

You awake with an unusual happiness, excited to see Spencer. It's been months since the two of you actually spent any time together and you're eager to get over to his apartment to see him. Last night you had told yourself that no matter what he may be doing, that he's still one of your closest friends and that you still need to be there for him.

After picking out a nice outfit and ensuring your hair looks nice, you send him a quick text that you'll be there shortly. And of course, you never go empty handed, and so you pick up the plate of cookies you had made last night for him.

The trip over to his apartment seems to take less time than you remember, and you make your way up the stairs until you find yourself outside of his door. You knock on his door and wait for him to answer, but a minute passes and you hear no movement on the other side. Thinking that maybe he was in the bathroom or something, you wait another minute and then knock again. This time you hear movement.

The door swings open and you smile, but it quickly drops once you see who has answered the door. Her makeup is smudged on her face and she's still in the dress she probably wore last night. Feeling sickness rise in your throat, you wordlessly turn to leave.

"Hey what are you doing? Who is it?" You hear Spencer come to the door, but you don't bother to look back. You don't want him to see the tears in your eyes. You blink the blurry tears from your vision so you don't trip and make an even bigger fool of yourself, and you get halfway down the hall before Spencer is calling your name. But you act like you don't hear him.

Just before you reach the stairwell, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You stop in your tracks and a breath catches in your throat. Looking back, you see Spencer with disheveled hair and beyond him, his friend he met with last night. The sight of her in his doorway makes you shrug his hand off of you, disgusted to think about where those hands may have been just moments before you knocked on the door.

"Where are you going?" Spencer's voice is quiet, but you can hear the hurt and curiosity in his words. With a sniffle, you look from the woman back to him.

"I'm going back home, I didn't mean to interrupt your plans or whatever." You say, words cold and curt. Turning back around, you're determined to go back home, but Spencer stops you again.

"Please don't go. Come in, please." He practically begs. And as if she just got the hint, the woman leaves down the opposite end of the hall, heels in hand. You glare at her retreating figure before turning your attention back to Spencer.

"Fine." You agree and follow him back inside his apartment.

His floor is littered with the outfit he wore to work yesterday. Tie slung across the back of the couch and shirt tossed in front of the bedroom door. Nausea washes over you and you try your best to keep your facial expression neutral. The plate of cookies finds its place on his countertop and you stand with your hands in your pockets, feeling oddly out of place in an apartment that used to feel like your second home.

"I'm sorry about that, I um, I didn't see your text." Spencer closes the door behind him and walks over to you. Trying your best to appear calm and collected, you shrug.

"It's okay." You say, feeling like it's anything but.

A silence settles between the two of you and you almost regret your decision to come over. You watch as Spencer tries to quickly tidy up the place, throwing dirty clothes into his bedroom and tossing trash away. As he makes his way through his apartment you realize that you two hadn't made any real plans, just that you would come over. And while that used to mean movies and relaxing, you know that it just wouldn't feel right tonight.

"Listen, if now is a bad time we can always reschedule." You offer and go to move towards the door.

"No! No it's okay, I want you to stay." He says, throwing the last piece of garbage away. You sigh, realizing that you're probably not leaving here without some sort of confrontation.

"So how have you been? We haven't really talked in a while." You ease into conversation, hoping to coax Spencer into opening up. He rubs the back of his neck and his eyes dart around, looking anywhere but at you.

"I've been okay. And you?" The conversation feels like one between two acquaintances, not friends.

"Yeah I've been okay. Just worried about you." You somehow find the courage to tell him your true thoughts. After all, you figure you can either tell him or simmer in your own feelings.

"Worried about me? Why?" His eyebrows scrunch together. Feeling like his gaze is too intense, you look over at the counter and let your fingers trace the lines of granite.

"I know what you've been doing Spence. And it's none of my business but, don't you kind of think it might just be a trade off?" Sure, this might be out of line and too bold, but your concerns are real.

"A trade off?" He asks, taking a step closer to you. Standing firm, you nod your head.

"Spence you put down the needle and started picking up women. Just take a second and think about it Spencer." Your eyes find their way back to his. The image of the woman opening his door gives you newfound confidence.

You watch as he closes his mouth and thinks, instead of retorting right away. It's almost as if you can see the gears of his mind turning and churning the information and analyzing his actions over the past few months. After about five minutes, he looks back up at you with his mouth slightly agape.

"It's just addiction transference." He confirms what your suspicions had been for weeks now. And Spencer isn't stupid, he knows he needs to hold himself accountable, and you're thankful he is, or this conversation could've take a far more drastic turn.

You watch as his face falls and he buries his head in his hands. Your angry resolve begins to crumble, and the love you have for him reblossoms within you, washing away any other feeling. Walking over to him, you place an unsure hand on his back to try and bring him some comfort.

"It's okay." You whisper, rubbing circles on his back. With a sigh, he looks back up to you. His soft, caring eyes look into yours and you finally recognize him. This is your Spencer.

"How could I not have seen this? It's plain as day and I let myself fall into another addiction. I was doing so good while you were here and then-" He cuts himself off abruptly, as if he said something he hadn't wanted to.

"And then what Spencer?" You push him for an answer, desperately needing to know what he was going to say.

"And then you left and I felt so alone." He admits and you can almost feel your heart stop beating in your chest.

He stands back to his full height, towering over you. Your blood runs hot in your veins as you stare into Spencer's eyes, searching for an answer.

"I know I've been a really bad friend lately but, do you think we could go back to how we were?" His voice is tender and vulnerable. Your mind was already made up the second the question left his lips.

"Of course, that's what friends are for." You say, despising having to describe yourselves as friends.

But at least you have your Spencer back.

- - - - -

"Come in!" Spencer's voice carries through the door and you let yourself into his apartment.

The past two weeks have been good, albeit a little rocky between the two of you. Spencer had stopped picking up women after a few failed attempts at stopping, but you can tell that his mind is itching for another fixation.

You step into his apartment and close the door behind you, seeing Spencer already on the couch, movie ready to play. He had let you pick out the movie this time, which is a rare occurrence but you didn't question it.

Sitting beside him, you relish in the familiar smell of the blankets. One of your demands is that he wash all of them before tonight, and he happily agreed. With a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of you, you snuggle underneath your blanket and watch the movie, but you can almost guarantee that you'll fall asleep before the end.

The movie is about halfway over when Spencer spills his drink on his blanket. He balled it up and threw it in the washer to deal with later, and as he resumed his spot on the couch, you offered half of your blanket.

Scooting closer, you gave him a generous share of your blanket, and you don't miss the way his hand rests on your knee. Suddenly your attention is no longer on the movie.

He keeps his hand on your knee, until he slides it up your thigh. Breath catches in your throat and you glance at him from the corner of your eye. He's still watching the movie, he probably doesn't even realize what he's done.

Spencer's thumb lazily draws shapes on your skin, causing you to shiver. He must've noticed, because you can swear a grin spreads across his face. His hand dares to go a little higher, and this time you're able to find your voice.

"What are you doing?" You keep your voice soft. Spencer doesn't miss a beat, and he licks his lips before answering.

"I'm just watching the movie." He answers with faux innocence. Not buying his explanation, you cock an eyebrow.

"Spencer." You say, urging him to tell the truth. A part of you is worried that he's unable to help himself and is just trying to satiate his need for satisfaction.

"I'm not allowed to love on my friend?" His voice is raspy, eyes dark in the dim light.

"You can, I just, you never do this to me." You stumble over your words, the feeling of his warm hand on your skin making your brain short circuit.

Without another word, he pulls you closer to him. Your shoulders are touching, faces inches apart. With this proximity, you're sure he can hear your heartbeat.

"It's nice having you here. It doesn't feel right when you leave, it feels empty." He whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips graze your neck and you shudder.

"I miss being here all the time with you." You admit, feeling particularly vulnerable. The way he looks at you is almost enough to make you melt.

"Then stay." He says, hand coming up your arm and resting on your cheek.

"What are you doing?" You ask again, brain foggy from his touch.

"You want to know something?" He keeps his voice deep, and you nod silently.

"All of those women had one thing in common." He says and almost causes you to retract from his hold. But he follows up quickly, sensing your aversion to the topic.

"They all looked like you. But, none of them could ever begin to compare. I was searching for you in each one of them but came up short each time." You're breathless with his confession, and you allow your hands to reach up and rest on his shoulders, begging him to stay close.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You ask, keenly aware that your noses are almost touching. Spencer's eyes flick from your eyes to your lips,

"Because I didn't want to lose you. I couldn't live without you in my life, and if you didn't feel the same way then our friendship would've been in disrepair." He says and it's ridiculous to you, the thought that you didn't feel the same.

"I watched you with those other women and wished it was me. I wished you would've said yes to me, not them." You come clean, one hand trailing up to the side of Spencer's neck. This time it's his turn to shiver.

"Having you would be like having a piece of heaven." He says, and before you know it, his lips are on yours.

The two of you are warm from the blanket and from burning desire. His hand keeps you close and you grab onto the front of his shirt. Spencer kisses you with a hot need, his lips desperate to know yours intimately.

One of your hands releases his shirt and tangles in his curly hair. The brown curls still as soft as you remember.

Spencer's lips leave yours and start placing wet kisses on your cheek, to your jaw, before landing on your neck. You gasp with pleasure, eyes fluttering shut.

"Just like heaven." He mutters against your skin before finding your lips again.

When he pulls away, you can feel your swollen, wet lips and your warm cheeks. Spencer looks equally as flustered, but it's the most alluring thing you've ever seen.

Resting his forehead against yours, he takes your hands into his own. This time they're free of tremors, they're warm and inviting.

"This is me saying yes to you, if you'll have me. I've realized that nothing, and nobody, will ever be able to satisfy my heart the way you do." He states, pulling back to watch your reaction.

Squeezing his hands, you nod,

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for you. I've had my eye on you since day one." You admit, leaning in for another kiss.

Spencer wraps his arms around your waist, keeping you pressed flush against him. Your fingers find their way into his curly, and now disheveled hair, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

The feeling of his lips on your skin is indescribable, each kiss lights your love on fire.

- - - - -

Morning rolls around, sunshine breaking through the curtain in Spencer's bedroom. You roll over to face him, eyes heavy with sleep and love.

Your eyes are met with his, and as you take in his beauty you think you can see the hollowness in his eyes begin to fade. A small smile finds its way to your face as you reach out and run your thumb over his cheekbone.

"What are you smiling about?" He asks with a grin on his own face.

"Nothing, I'm just proud of how far you've come." You say, gingerly caressing his face. He hums with contentment, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

"I'd be nowhere without you." You can feel the authenticity in his words, and you know he never had to thank you for anything. You bury you head into Spencer's chest and take in his warmth, appreciating the moment with him.

Being held in his arms, you know that you would do everything over again and again if it meant that Spencer found a piece of himself again, that he's been able to heal from the damage Tobias inflicted upon him. You told him you'd be there for him every step of the way, and those words have never been more true.

You're glad you kept your eye on Spencer Reid.

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readychilledwine · 3 months

Text

Lost Bonds pt 3

Summary - After the second war, an unexpected bond with Y/n Archeron, and repairing all he's lost, Tamlin is shocked with news from the very female Rhys has been protecting from him.

Warnings- alcohol use, implied affair,implied smut, sex magic/sex pollen

A/n- Everything will be explained to y/n and wrapped in a mostly pretty bow in Part 4 on Tuesday 💚

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 4

Tamlin sat in silence, nursing hard alcohol as Rhys reappeared before him hours later. “It explains a lot,” Rhysand said softly as he sat. Tamlin pushed the Winter Court Scotch Rhysand's way. “I swear we didn't know, Tamlin.”

“So Feyre admitted it?” Rhys nodded, staring into the bonfire Tamlin had going. “She's not truly happy anymore, Rhys.”

“We know. She hasn't been happy since she watched Cassian and Nesta fall in love and their mating bond grow, then Lucien and Elain, then Amren and Varian, Eris and his wife. Mor and Emerie.” The High Lord threw back a heavy drink. “Then Azriel found his mate. And now she feels like she's an obstacle to his happiness, he feels she's a burden but refuses to let her go. He wants both."

Tamlin hummed, ignoring the flaring anger at the idea of his mate being treated like a second choice, like a burden. “How did she end up in Spring?”

Rhys sighed and looked down. “She wanted to get away from Azriel. They had gotten into a fight while he was training her. She wanted to go somewhere she'd be loved and safe unconditionally.”

Rhys paused, eyes locked on the stars. “It's funny, you know, Feyre painted their dresser drawers to fit their personalities and they've predicted their mates too.” He drank heavily again, eyes watering slightly. “Feyre painted the night sky on hers and became the stars eternal. Nesta's was bathed in flames so red the closest match we could find to recreate the dresser was Cassian's siphons, and we watched that scene during the war with that so called God, silver flames blazing and reflecting the red of my brother's armor. Elain's danced with sunlight and flowers. Her and Lucien the heir of the fucking Day Court,” Tamlin couldn't help the laugh that came with that sentence, nor could Rhys. “They live in Helion's largest garden in a cabin.”

“And y/n?”

“A raging storm and blooming trees.”

“And yet you all keep her there. Where she isn't destined by the Mother to be and where she is screaming for freedom.”

“Feyre isn't prepared to forgive nor forget.”

Tamlin rolled his eyes, purposely pushing every moment he had done something to make up for what he had done into Rhysand's mind. “I believe I have more than atoned for my sins against the female that started this all on a lie. The female who ended my curse should have been my mate, Rhys. That's why I fought so hard. Why I protected her even if my methods were ideas from my father and blind trauma. Did you not explain that to her?"

Rhys avoided answering, torn between the part of him that knew Tamlin was correct and the mating bond screaming to protect and defend inside of him. “I'll start sending her to you as an emissary. If the bond snaps on her end, we go from there. And Tamlin,” the High lord took his former friend's chin into his face. “Be grateful. Be grateful you didn't hear y/n's neck snap, that you didn't watch her be tortured for 3 months. That-”

“I watched the woman I loved go through all of that. Then I watched my mate be forced into an ancient world creating pot because i trusted the wrong female,” Tamlin took back the Scotch, drinking enough to burn his throat. “I think we understand each other more than you are willing to believe.”

Rhys nodded, looking away. “Y/n likes her bed made with 3 blankets so she can sleep with the window open at all times. She thinks white flowers are the prettiest. She likes chocolate way too much for a normal person.”

Rhysand's jaw tightened before he continued. “Do you remember how my sister use to scrunch her nose really hard when she was thinking?”

Tamlin chuckled softly into his hand, picturing her little face so clearly. “Y/n does the same thing.” It was a quiet confession, one that could have came with an apology, but the two of them has accepted the words “I'm sorry” would never be passed between them many years ago.

“So you've kept her from me because she reminds you of Stella?” Rhys just nodded before winnowing away.

Tamlin felt his lip twitch when you first appeared two months later. Rhys was either stupid, or fatherhood had made the male forget to look at a calendar. You were here for a 3 day weekend visit to discuss trade between Spring and the Night Court.

A 3 day weekend that fell on Calanmai. Tamlin was shaking as he led you to the chambers he had built just for you. Chambers his Lady would reside in when or if they were choosing to sleep in separate beds.

He realized he would have to keep you in the manor tonight, but excluding a guest from a court's most important holiday was considered a major offense. He thought about calling for Rhys, calling to remind him what today was, but he knew, at least he thought he did, that you would stay inside. It had worked with Feyre, after all. He had stopped searching for her when she wasn't easy to get to. Surely it would be the same for you. The magic would switch and call to another. He'd be able to ignore the scent of lilac, gooseberry, and fresh parchment.

He pushed open the door and watched your face with a deep breath held in his chest. “Tamlin, this room is too nice. This is clearly meant for someone with high standing. It's across from yours, I can't-”

“These are guest quarters for a high-ranking guest,” the lie came so smoothly. “You are a high-ranking guest. Get settled. I'll have a handmaid come get you for tea.” He shut the door behind you, going back to preparations and letting the kitchen know he needed tea made.

Your guest room was fit for a queen, not a guest. A large walk-in closet sat willed with dresses, an island in the middle with drawers for jewelry. A standing mirror with ornate patterns of florals and vines sat unused, untouched. The bed was massive, possibly larger than the one you shared with Azriel, and it had soft satin sage green sheets, a fur throwing blanket lining the foot. 4 posts came off the bed, a light cream colored fabric and curtains creating a canopy and optional privacy. A vanity sat, empty and waiting for its lady to fill it with oils and lotions.

He had clearly put you in a Lady's quarters. A safe place for her to be away from her husband. Something you had asked Azriel for since his bond with Gwyn snapped, and you two had begun drifting apart. Something he continued to deny you as tensions grew between you two.

You entered the door opposite of the closet and felt your heart begin to dance. The bathroom was stunning. White and grey marbled floors, a sunk in tub large enough for two, accents of that same soft green and gold. It was what the tub overlooked that made your heart truly flutter, though. It overlooked a garden and the forest. Elain would have killed for this view, but instead, you sat on the ground, crossing your legs, and you took it all into yourself. Hogging the moment and soaking in it.

Nightfall came quickly, and Tamlin had warned you of what would come. You had made the choice to stay inside even though a pang of jealousy reared its ugly head.

You had no claim to him. No ownership over his body, his choices. It didn't change the emotion, though, as you laid your hands over the edge of that tub and watched fire make shadows dance across the leaves.

He had warned you that you may feel tugging, a pull urging you to come outside. He had asked that you ignore it, and Cauldron, you were trying. You were ignoring that growing warmth in your stomach, the haze setting into your mind. You tried to focus on thoughts of the fight you and Azriel would finish when you got home. Of the way you would crawl into a separate bed from your husband as soon as he fell asleep, still smelling like Gwyn. You tried to focus your thoughts on your marriage and how it was slowly crumbling below you after his actions.

But those tugs were growing stronger, aching in your chest with desire and need. You jumped as the door to your room slammed open, and Tamlin growled. He seemed more beast than fae, mind lost in whatever this ritual had done to him. “Tamlin?”

Your voice shook him enough as he kneeled down in front if you, broad chest exposed and covered in swirling paint. “Y/n,” his voice was strained as he struggled to keep his eyes on your face. “Should have sent you back.” He was grounding out each syllable. “Fucking Rhysand.”

You felt it again, a harsh tug on your chest before warmth and dedication flowed into your body. You gasped at how close it felt and his eyes grew wide. “You can feel it?”

“Feel what? That tug?”

He nodded almost desperate as he lifted you out of the water and searched for something. He came back with your robe, wrapping you in it before trying to lead you somewhere. “Tamlin, where are we going?”

“The Cave.” His voice wasn't his own, but another tug came. That ancient echo spoke again, making you shiver.. “I won't allow this vessel to settle for less than his mate.”

His mate. You almost froze, making whatever held Tamlin's body stop and throw you over his shoulder. “Close your eyes, and feel,” it commanded as it walked you out the front door.

The cave was filled with the sounds of sex, the scent of magic, arousal, sweat. Tamlin laid you on a bed at the center of it, eyes blown with lust. You felt it then, that string binding your souls, holding you together like missing pieces to a puzzle. He was himself again now, looking down at you with hesitation. “I will let you go if you ask, little rose.”

Your body was humming, mind lost as your eyes began to water staring into his. “It's just mindless sex,” you repeated words you'd heard since Azriel's bond snapped. “It means nothing to you.”

Tamlin's brow knit, those green eyes aching with sorrow for you. “It means everything. You mean everything to me," and he crashed his lips down onto yours.

General Taglist:

Lost Bonds Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish

@impossibelle @fxckmiup @applerubyy @awkardnerd @sleepylunarwolf @macimads @esposadomd @stormhearty

#acotar #acotar x reader #tamlin #tamlin x reader #tamlin x y/n #tamlin x you #tamlin acotar

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