#i felt like i needed to explain some of these and then it escalated | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nanaslutt · 11 months

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okey so brainrot: this is RLLY WEIRD IM SORRY but the reader is like innocent/shy and doesn't really have any experiences regarding sex so like one day she asks satoru to "show her" how to touch herself but he demonstrates it on a fruit (like on an orange? peach? or smth like that) then things get heated😉. I DONT KNOW IF I EXPLAINED THIS WELL

Gojo teaching you to touch yourself on an orange.. and things escalate..

contains: fem reader, teasing, sexual tension, fingering, guided masturbation, experienced gojo, readers first orgasm, he talks you through it, 99% of this is dirty talk and nasty dialogue

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

*Ding* the sound of a video recording starting chimed from Gojo’ phone, “Okay okay, say that again for me?~” The white haired man cooed cockily.

“Gojo you asshole! Ugh, forget it, I was stupid to ask you.” You threw your arms up in defeat, rolling your eyes as you turned to walk out of his room, embarrassed.

“Noooonono,” he cried, the chime sounded again, ending the video, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t tease you like that~” The man was suddenly behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and rocking you side to side, “Forgive me, I was wrong okayy~” he tried to reason, he really didn’t want to blow this.

After all, his cute little friend had just burst into his room and confessed that she had never touched herself before and was wanting some guidance; knowing gojo had some experience with women under his belt, you came to him for help.

“To make it up to you, I won’t even make you pay for this session how bout that?” he grinned behind you annoyingly, poking his head out to the side of you so you could see his expression through your peripheral vision.

“What are you some sex therapist?” you laughed, making him sigh in relief. “I’ll be anything you need me to be~” he wiggled his eyebrows, making you shrug his heavy body off of you in faux disgust.

“So, you a visual learner? or more hands on?” He asked when you turned your body to face him once more, letting him drag you so you were sitting on the end of his bed.

“I’m not uh.. really sure when it comes to this.” you confessed. “You’re not sure of much huh?” he teased, making you punch his shoulder lightly, “haha, you’ll know soon if you’re a hands on learner or not.” he said ambiguously.

But you trusted gojo with this for some reason..

..which might’ve been a mistake.

You did not anticipate how riled up this situation would get you. You’ve always found gojo attractive; who didn’t; but you came to him because nothing had ever happened between the two of you before, you were friends, you were sure the atmosphere wouldn’t feel so embarrassing but—

“This is your clit, you wanna make little circles on it like this with one or two fingers,” The white haired man spoke, currently holding half an orange in one hand, and rubbing tight circles onto the suggestive looking slit of the fruit with the other.

Gojo was sat in front of you on his chair while you sat on the bed, his legs spread as he held the fruit out in front of him and instructed you on it.

“Don’t wanna go too fast either, wanna work yourself up a bit.” He spoke, looking up at you every so often to make sure you were paying attention; this was important after all.

“If you start getting too needy, rub your fingers down here-“ he dragged his long digits down to the middle of the fruit, presumably where the opening to your pussy would be.

He rubbed his fingers on the outside of the slit, in a ‘come hither’ motion; not inserting his fingers; just caressing them on the outside, occasionally rubbing them back and forth over the opening.

“You paying attention?” he checked, snapping you out of your stupor as your eyes flitted up to his, you were hoping the blush on your face wasn’t as evident as it felt. You just gave a curt nod at his question, not trusting your voice to sound steady right now.

The longer and longer this went on, the needier and needier you we’re feeling between your own legs, a heat was growing between them and you were praying gojo hadn’t noticed that your legs were crossed not in comfort but because you had been steadily squeezing them together and rubbing your pussy against the rough denim stitch your jeans made for awhile now.

“Good, it gets a little more interesting now so make sure you’re paying attention.” he says, waiting for you nod again before he continued.

“This is your vaginal opening, this is where you would put your little fingers inside yourself when you masturbate.” he said, “or get fucked heh,” he adds vulgarly, making himself smile.

“Start with one finger, especially since you’ve never done anything here before right?” He asks, still nonchalantly rubbing his fingers against the slit while he waits for you to once again acknowledge his words; his piercing blue eyes staring bullets through you as he does so.

“Y-yeah.” You verbally answered, silently begging for him to continue. If you tried hard enough, you could almost feel him touching you like that instead of the stupid fruit, who you were unnecessarily jealous of at the moment.

“It’s gonna be tight, and it might not feel like much at first-“ You held your breath as he spoke, waiting for his next moves. Gojo looked down at the fruit, teasing a circle around the slit one last time before he pressed the tip of his finger into the center deeper and deeper, making juices spill out around it. “But a couple inches inside, there’s gonna be a little rough patch.” he tells you.

“A rough patch?” you repeat, confused. “Your g-spot.” he answered, “It’s gonna make you feel soo good.” he smirks, looking up at you from his ministrations on the fruit. “All you gotta do is ruuub~ like this-“ he demonstrates, massaging upwards inside the slit of the fruit, making vulgar squelching noises emanate around the room.

“It’ll even sound similar if you’re doing it right,” he adds, giggling to himself. “Can you do both?” you ask, hoping the breathlessness of your words wasn’t able to be picked up by Gojo’s ears.

He tilts his head to the side for a second, questioning what you mean before his eyes light up when he fully registers what you were asking, “Ohhh~ You want me to show you how to touch your clit and finger yourself at the same time?” he asked, a slightly mocking lilt to his voice.

“Oh I just- I wanted to know if it was possible..” you shyly clarified, looking away for a second, suddenly way too aware of his eyes on you.

“Aww~ of course it’s possible!” he beamed. You watched his thumb come up and pet the top of the slit of the orange, where your clit would be, and rubbed back and forth when his fingers thrusted out of the slit. “You can use two hands if this is too uncomfortable,” He adds.

“Most women cant cum unless you give ur little clit some attention, even with how good touching yourself inside can feel.” Gojo spoke.

“Have you ever-“ you gulped, “made someone cum from just the inside?” you asked, taking the brief pause he took to answer to add, “I-I just wanna know if it’s p-possible is all!”

“Oh yeah~” he answers in a heartbeat after your last sentence, “Even made a couple squirt from just the inside too.” he brags.

“Shit,” you accidentally mumble, not meaning to actually say that our loud, “What was that?” he asks, playing dumb when he mentally recorded the word that fell from your lips, making his ego swell.

“Oh n-nothing.” you brushed it off, waving your hand in front of yourself, urging him to continue his teachings. “Make sure when your fingers are inside that pump them in-“ he slowly drags his fingers out of the fruit, juices coating them, making you squeeze your legs together at the lewd image, “and out, that you also curl them inside at the same time.” he instructs.

“That’s how you’re gonna make your g-spot happy and get the most of your pleasure.” Gojo finishes.

Your mouth was completely dry at this point, leg bouncing in impatience, still subtly squeezing your thighs together for even the smallest bit of relief while you watched the juices drip down his lengthy fingers.

“Well that’s about it for the basics, I think you can go pretty far with what i’ve taught you, if you can remember it all.” He giggles, raising from the chair and moving to set the fruit on the table.

“Wait!” you say a little too loudly, hopping he didn’t sense the need in your voice, “Um.. I think I might be a hands on learner..” You confess, “I’m still a little confused..”

Gojo stops in his tracks, retracting his hand that’s holding the fruit back towards his body as a sinister smirk grows on his face. “Yeah?” he asks, cheering internally when you not coyly.

“Alright then, class is back in session!!” he throws his hands up, walking over to you.

When you think he’s going to sit back down in the chair he actually walks past it, and past you. You turn your head to see where he was going but your muscles freeze and tense up when you feel the bed dip behind you, followed by his strong chest pressing snugly against your back.

“This okay?” he asks before he continues, to which you nod. “Need to hear you say it, sweets.” You blush at the nickname, glad he can’t see your face like this, “Yes, this is okay.” you confirm softly.

“Alright, here” he holds the fruit out to you, and you take it in both your smaller hands. “I’m gonna walk you through it, that sound okay?” he checks, smiling to himself when you let out a meek ‘mhm.’

He pulls the both of you further back on the bed, so he’s resting comfortably upright against the bed frame, and you following suit against his chest. “Comfortable?” the while haired man whispers far too close to your ear.

“Y-yes,” you confirm once more, the hitch of your breath made him smile to himself.

“Okayy~ Ideally you would want to work yourself up by playing with your chest first,, slowly drag your fingers down your body, touch yourself over your pants and all that— but we only have an orange so this will have to do!” he says, not realizing (?) how hot his words were making you.

“Start by slowly touching your clit.” He spoke, as if you were really touching yourself right now. Your shaky fingers came down to find the top of the slit, rubbing one finger against where you guessed your clit would be, as he watched intently over your shoulder.

“Yeah, right there good job.” he praised, making you wish you were back to sitting on the bed with your legs crossed so you could squeeze them together. It would be a little too risky to try anything when he was so close to you, you bet he could hear your heartbeat beating out of your chest from how the two of you were squished together right now.

“A little faster now.” he instructed, licking his lips behind you as he felt your breath pick up when you drew faster circles against the fruit, wet ‘schlick’ noises echoing in your ears.

“Like this?” you asked, switching up the direction of the circles every so often, “Oh yeah, you’re a pro,” he giggled into your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine, “You sure you’ve never touched yourself before?”

“Well I have but it.. it didn’t feel like much.” you confessed, blushing at your own revealing words. “I see..” he ponders, cerulean eyes focused on your smaller fingers playing with the fruit.

“I have an idea, something that might help you understand a little better, if your open to it,” he pauses you, his big hand coming to stop your movements against the orange.

“Um, what is it?” you ask hesitantly. The white haired man leaned a little too close for comfort, making you whine out loud when he whispered, “You trust me?” into the shell of your ear.

Truthfully, Gojo had been hard from the moment you asked him to teach you how to touch yourself. Stealing glances at your thighs pressing together not so subtly when he was talking you through step by step how to pleasure yourself, watching you suck your lip into your mouth when his words became a little too dirty, how your breath picked up when he inserted his fingers into the slit of the fruit.

He was losing his mind, his patience was wearing increasingly thinner and thinner at your reactions, he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and your obliviousness was making his cock drip pre steadily into his boxers.

Thank god for his baggy sweater or you might’ve (100% would’ve) noticed the huge hard on he was sporting in his sweats. He was surprised you didn’t say anything when he was pressed against your back, assuming you were too enthralled and overwhelmed with what was going on to notice.

“I trust you.” you responded honestly, making his cock twitch against the fabric that confined it.

“I’m gonna touch this fruit just how I just showed you, and you’re going to mimic me, on yourself.” He whispered, his hot breath against the shell of your ear making you shiver.

“R-right here? now?” you asked clarifying his words, slight panic and embarrassment seeping into your tone. “I saw you rubbing your thighs together, you’re aching for it, right? What better time to practice getting off when you’re actually all worked up?” He made a good point, you’ve been wanting to touch yourself for half an hour now, you were sure you had completely soaked through your panties by this point.

You made a sound of embarrassment, eyes darting around the room at him having exposed you, “Awww heh, don’t be embarrassed, I’m in the same boat.” he confessed, trying to comfort you, “Been so hard since you asked me for help.”

His words did little to comfort you, making you even more flustered as you covered your eyes with the hand you weren’t holding the orange in, “Okay- just.. just do something, please.” you begged, not being able to take the throbbing between your own legs anymore.

“Okay okay, all you gotta do is follow my lead, kay?” he clarifies, grabbing your wrist and pulling off of your face so he could see your expression from the side. When he heard you let out a meek ‘okay’ he reached for the orange and set it down on the bed for a moment.

“Go ahead and take off your pants for me,, leave your panties on.” Came Gojo’s first instructions. You followed, leaning forward and away from his chest, your fingers worked quickly at undoing your button and zipper, sliding your fingers underneath the waistband as you pulled the garment off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to Gojos eyes.

When you leaned back against him he dragged the tips of his fingers along your thighs, his assumption of your soft skin becoming true as he dragged his digits all the way up to your hips, gripping your waist for a moment before he complimented, “So fucking soft.”

“Spread your legs pretty,” His soothing voice told you, staring intently between your legs, wishing he had a better view, but after this little scene he had high hopes he would have no problem getting a closer look at you.

You did as you were told, you parted your knees, feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.

He reached for the fruit again, holding it with both hands in front of you, as he started tapping with one long finger on the ‘clit’ of the orange. When you didn’t move your own finger to repeat him he pats your pelvis lightly with his hand, “I know i’m addicting to watch, but you gotta touch yourself too.” He laughs, making you snap out of your stupor as you forgot you were supposed to be mimicking him.

“S-sorry, do it again.” you request, really focusing on his fingers against the fruit this time while you started sliding your own fingers inside your panties.

“Uh-uh” he warned, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks, “Over your panties, I’ll tell you when to touch yourself directly, I’ll take care of everything.” He explains, leaving a small peck against the side of your head.

“Alright, just pay attention that’s all you gotta do.” Gojo starts up again, tapping his fingers on the fruit and this time you follow him, tapping your finger over your wet panties, right against your clit.

The little stimulation alone was so intense, after being worked up for so long this relief was much needed. “Feels good to touch yourself after being so horny huh?” He spoke, like he was reading your mind.

‘Mhm’ you respond, letting your body relax against him, your head coming back to lay against his chest as you let yourself feel what he was allowing you to.

“I bet it does..” Gojo smirks, looking at your lithe shaky fingers tapping softly against your clothed mound. After a couple of seconds he decided to press against the fruit, starting up the small circles, “lightly.” He reminded.

You followed suit, the circles felt worlds better than the tapping, the consistent pressure and pattern was making you dizzy. The first actual whimper of the night left your lips and it made Gojo’s cock twitch in his pants.

He cooed at you when you squeezed your eyes shut, mouth dropping open in a small o shape while you continued your ministrations, “Cant follow directions with your eyes shut can you? Or you got some kinda super power I’m unaware of~?” he joked, making you crack your eyes open and look at his fingers again.

You noticed he had picked up his pace, you were unsure of when he did but you were happy you noticed now. You were appreciative at getting to touch yourself but were growing needy with the slow pace of his fingers. “F-fuck.” You gasped out, your hips bucking into your finger as you quickened the movement.

“Talk to me, how’s it feel.” Gojo was growing impatient himself, he loved teasing you and he knew he should take this slow especially since it was your fist time touching yourself properly— but the thought of pressing your back down into a mean arch while he just pulled your panties aside and fucked his cock into you at the hilt was constantly in the back of his mind.

He loved teasing his sex partners, but he’s never done anything like this before. Taking it this slow and instructing someone like this was new to him. It was so intimate, and so soft, and his dick really fucking liked it.

“F-feels so good, I- I wanna take my panties off.” you confessed, your ass bumping against his hard on every time your hips humped against your finger. “Yeah? Wanna touch your wet pussy directly?” He spoke, biting his lip as he held back a groan.

“Yes-yes- please..” You begged, the way he was talking was making your need to have something inside you— to feel more—so much worse.

“Soon, I promise.” He said, rubbing his long fingers against the slid of the fruit, making quiet squelching noises as he ran his finger up and down the length of it. He smiled to himself when you listened quicker this time, you were catching on.

You rubbed two fingers over the length of your pussy, moaning when he stopped his movements and pressed on and off against the hole of the fruit, where the opening of your pussy would be.

You repeated the action, feeling the fabric of your wet panties get pushed against the entrance of your little hole, “I cant tell if those sounds are you, or the fruit.” Gojo laughed breathlessly, becoming dizzy at the squelching that became louder and louder in his ears.

“Gojo..” you wined needily into the air. “Okay, okay,” His resolve cracked much faster than it normally would’ve. He knew he was the one in control right now but it felt like you had him on a leash, controlling his every move. Just a couple of wines from you was enough to make him fold, giving in to what you wanted.

He grinned watching you hastily remove your panties and spreading your legs once more, being so obedient by not immediately touching yourself and instead digging your nails into your thighs and waiting for his fingers to move against the orange.

He wanted to see how long you could hold out, but his dick and head alike were yelling at him to move his own fingers so he could watch you touch yourself, so that’s exactly what he did. Using two long fingers he rubbed hard circles again the fruit, his giggles shaking your body when you jumped into action with no hesitation, rubbing and pinching your clit between your fingers as you slid them back and forth, spelling letters and drawing shapes on it— whatever gojo did, you did.

“Fuck Gojo, this feels so good-“ you moaned, fighting the urge to let your head fall back as you felt an unfamiliar coil tighten itself in your tummy.

“I know baby I know.” His voice spoke with need, taking all four of his fingers and smacking them against the entire fruit, just so you would repeat him so he could hear how wet you were. “Oh shiit, you’re fucking drenched.” He groaned, his eyes briefly rolling back into his head before he started rubbing little circles again.

“This turning you on? huh?” He spoke, “You like when I show you how to treat your little pussy?” His words made you moan, going off of his instruction and quickening the pace of your fingers against yourself, “I know you wanna cum but you gotta slow down, I didn’t speed up my fingers so you don’t get to either~” Gojo reminded.

Being the obedient girl you were, you slowed your fingers down, “Sorry, ‘m sorry,” you apologized profusely, “It’s alright,” He smiled, “It just feels so good huh?” Again, it was like he was reading your mind.

“So good, s-so so good.” you whine. “Let’s make you feel ever better, huh?” Gojo spoke against your ear, his breathy laugh tickling your skin. He dragged his fingers down to the slit of the fruit, just teasing the entrance, watching your fingers do the same.

“I cant go as deep on my model here, but when I put them inside, I want you to go deep okay?” He said. “Okay, okay.” You rush, anxious but excited to have something inside of you.

“Good girl, such a good listener.” He praised, making your cunt clench around nothing. “Okay, here we go~” Gojo slowly pushed a single finger into the fruit, his jaw dropping with a smile when he watched your smaller finger insert itself into your walls.

“Yeahhh, how does that feel?” He asks, his cock dripping out more pre into his boxers, throbbing and twitching against its confines. “Fuck.. ‘s tight.” you whine, making him groan into the air.

“Yeah? Can you feel yourself twitching?” Gojo is trying to pull as many details out of you as he can, his cock was aching for it. “Y-yes, so much- ngh-“ you choke on a moan when you start to slide your finger it in and out, following Gojo’s lead.

“Remember to curl your finger twords the top of your tummy when you put it inside,” He instructs, watching your body jolt when you follow his instruction. “Oh fu-“ you cut yourself off with a breathless moan when you feel it— your gspot.

You’ve never felt anything like this before, it almost felt more intense than touching your clit, but drastically different, you didn’t know what part was your favorite— you were becoming enthralled with your own body.

“Fuck it- it feels so good Gojo-“ you whine, turning your head against his chest so you’re making eye contact with him. “I know baby I knoww~” He cooes down at you, shaking his head.

“Put another finger when you can take it, it’ll feel so much better.” he reveals, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth while he waited with bated breath as you pulled out your finger, covered in your juices— which made him grown— before you reinserted it, this time with your ring finger joining in tandem.

“Ohmygod-“ you cry, “It’s s-so much tighter gojo-“ you looked back down at his fingers, mimicking his increasingly rough pace as he looses his mind a bit at your use of his last name.

“Satoru baby, call me satoru.” He desperately needed to hear you say his name properly, every cell in his body was aching for it. “Sa-toru! Toru fuck!” you whine. His eyes roll back, his head falling suit and bumping against the headboard at his name leaving your lips.

“Yeah, keep saying my name sweet thing,” he groaned, not able to stop himself from humping against your lower back any longer, the air around you becoming increasingly thicker at how aroused the two of you were becoming.

Suddenly something snapped inside Gojo and he discarded the orange on the floor, wrapping one strong arm around your torso while he brought his juice soaked fingers to your lips, tapping them for you to open up for him.

“Yesss, good fucking girl, don’t stop your fingers- fuckkk-“ The white haired man groaned when your tongue eagerly licked around his fingers, he groaned at the warmth of your mouth, pushing his fingers as far as you would let him into your mouth, coughing a bit around them when they tickled the back of your throat.

“Play with your clit too sweetie, wanna see you cum all over your fingers.” He directed, keeping his fingers snug in your mouth as you moaned and whined around them, his other hand gripping the side of your waist strong enough to leave bruises as your other hand joined the mix on your pussy, rubbing quick circles with perfect pressure right against your clit.

“Fuck, you feel it? You gonna cum?” He groaned when your body jerked more frequently, breath coming in shorter pants as well, a sign of your impending orgasm.

You nodded against him, moaning around his fingers as you quickened your thrusts, the squelching emanating louder in the room as your juices started pooling around your fingers.

“Yesyesyes, take it, keep rubbing your clit just like that, fuck-“ Gojo felt like he was about to cum himself, lightheaded and entranced at the scene in front of him— watching you please yourself so eagerly. He couldn’t believe he was about to witness your first ever orgasm, something he only ever dreamed about.

You tried to speak his name around his fingers, warning him you were about to cum but it came out muffled. He removed his fingers from your mouth, grabbing your jaw with the same hand, and smearing your spit messily against your skin— he directed your head to look between your legs.

“Watch yourself cum baby, want you to take it all in, remember how fucking good this feels.” He instructed, as you whined and moaned his name freely into the room.

“Toru- I- I think i’m cumming!! fuck-“ you cried, squeezing your eyes shut as the dam broke.

“Oh yesyesyes- there you fucking go~ good fucking girl~” He talked you through it as you came all over your fingers— cum gushing out around them as your cunt pulsed around your digits, body jerking in on itself after every wave of your high, your legs and hands shaking at the intensity.

You panted as you came down from your first ever orgasm, barely registering that Gojo was praising you as your mind felt fuzzy, you were feeling complete bliss, you couldn’t believe it took you so long to finally do this— you were addicted.

“Satoru- ngh-“ you whined in sensitivity as you slowly pulled out your fingers, holding your soaked digits up into the air and blushing at how they shined in the light with how wet they were.

Gojo reached for your wrist, shamelessly bringing your hand to his mouth as he sucked your fingers into his mouth, moaning and eyes rolling back at the taste. Your face blushed increasingly darker at his antics, clenching your thighs at how his soft tongue felt cleaning off your fingers.

After he popped them out of his mouth a dopey grin made itself home on his face, “So fucking sweet too.” he praised, licking his lips to clean up any drop of your juices he might’ve missed.

Gojo squeezed his arm around you tighter, gripping your face once more as he made you turn your head more directly towards him before he spoke again, “Wanna learn how to touch a dick next?”

pt. 2 here

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reidmarieprentiss · 8 days

Text

Turning Tables

Summary: The team finds you and Spencer, you come back to work after recovering, things are tense. Spencer realizes he messed up, but you're not so quick to forgive.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: suggestive content (16+), mentions of hookup culture, talks of cases, reader is heavily assaulted by unsub, broken bones, dumb man Spencer, missed signals, bad communication

Word count: 6.9k

a/n: hiii there will be a part three!!

main masterlist part one part three

The team finally found the two of you in the abandoned warehouse, but the sight they came upon was brutal. Spencer had a black eye and a split lip from being hit, his face bruised and bloodied, but you— you had taken the worst of it. The unsub had unleashed relentless violence on you. You’d been slapped, punched, kicked, spit on, cut, and thrown around like a ragdoll. The unsub’s twisted plan was clear: break Spencer by hurting you, the "weaker" hostage, using your suffering to force him into talking. But you both knew that wasn’t an option. Spencer couldn’t give the unsub what he wanted, no matter how much it tore him apart to watch you take those blows.

Every hit that landed on you felt like it was striking Spencer himself. He watched, helpless, feeling the pain of every blow as though it was his own flesh being torn and bruised. Yet he remained silent, knowing that any begging or pleading from him would only make the unsub escalate. He couldn’t give them that. He couldn’t put you through more than what you were already enduring, though it felt like it was killing him inside to watch.

When the team finally stormed in, you were unconscious, your body battered and limp as they carted you away on a stretcher to the waiting ambulance. Hotch approached Spencer, his voice calm but filled with concern as he asked, "What happened to Y/N?"

Spencer, sitting in the back of another ambulance, stared blankly ahead. His shoulders were slumped, weighed down by the guilt and horror of what had transpired. His voice was quiet, flat. “She was the target.”

Hotch took in Spencer's empty gaze, the exhaustion and anguish etched into every line of his face, and knew better than to press for more. They’d have to wait until you woke up to understand the full scope of what happened in that warehouse. But even then, Hotch feared that some wounds might never truly heal.

—

You eventually did wake up, groggy but relieved to find that, despite the brutality you endured, you had very little internal damage. The doctors assured you that your body just needed time to heal. Two weeks of paid leave were granted as you recovered, a rare gesture of empathy from Chief Strauss, who seemed to have a soft spot for you.

As the painkillers faded and your mind cleared, the questions from your team began. You sat with them, still feeling tender but able to think straight, recounting everything you remembered from that night. You and Spencer had been investigating a house, following up on an anonymous tip. It seemed routine until the moment you two split up to check different rooms. That’s when it happened—ambushed from behind, a cloth drenched in chloroform shoved over your mouth. After that, everything went black.

"I only remember waking up inside the warehouse with Spencer," you explained, your voice steady but laced with tension. The memories still fresh, the pain still vivid. "The unsub wanted me. I was the real target. They said I was more of a challenge than any of their other victims."

JJ, sitting beside you, asked softly, her voice gentle and careful. “Why did they take Spencer?”

You heaved a breath, feeling the weight of the answer on your chest. “They thought if they took him too, they could find out where the rest of the team was. They wanted Spencer to tell you all it was a dead end, to send you off on a different trail.” You paused, your breath shaking as you continued. “They said if Spencer did that, they’d release him. But they made it clear… they just wanted me.”

The room was silent for a moment, the gravity of your words hanging in the air. Your team exchanged glances, but no one said anything. They didn’t need to. You all understood what it meant—that the unsub was willing to let Spencer go, but you were never supposed to walk out of that warehouse alive.

—

When you returned to work after your leave, the atmosphere shifted. The entire team was happy to have you back, and there were warm smiles all around. Spencer, however, seemed unsure how to approach you now. Still, he smiled as you passed by, his voice tentative yet sincere as he said, “I’m really glad you’re back and feeling better.”

You returned the smile, a brief and polite response escaping your lips. “Thanks, Spencer. I appreciate it.” The exchange was short, almost too brief, and you both seemed to sense the unspoken tension lingering between you. It didn’t go unnoticed, especially not by JJ, who had grown close to you since the incident. She had been your rock, someone you confided in more and more.

When she found a quiet moment alone with you, JJ slipped into the conversation with ease. “Hey, how’s your first day back?” she asked with her trademark smile, though there was a hint of something deeper in her tone.

You shrugged lightly, trying to mask any unease. “Same as usual, I guess. It feels good to be working again, though. I was getting restless at home.”

JJ laughed knowingly, nodding. “I know exactly what you mean.” Then, her voice dropped, softer now, as she leaned in slightly. “Did something happen between you and Spence?”

The question caught you off guard, your brows knitting in surprise. Did Spencer say something to her? You quickly tried to brush it off with a joke. “Other than, you know, getting kidnapped together? Not that I know of.”

But JJ wasn’t convinced. She made a face like she wasn’t buying your casual response. “Are you sure? You two haven’t really been talking much. I guess I just assumed something like that would have brought you closer… in a weird, awful sort of way.”

You let out a short laugh, trying to deflect again. “Yeah… we didn’t get the trauma bonding memo, I guess.”

JJ still looked skeptical, her eyes scanning your face for cracks in your armor. “Okay, well… just, if you need to talk, I’m here. You don’t have to go through anything alone.”

Her offer was genuine, and the sincerity in her voice made you pause. You smiled back at her, feeling a small but comforting warmth settle in. “Thanks, JJ. I really appreciate that.”

Across the bullpen, Spencer had been listening to the conversation from his desk, his heart aching at what JJ was implying. He’d been mulling over the same thought—that the trauma you both went through should have drawn you closer. Shared experiences like that often created a bond, an unspoken connection forged in survival. But instead, he could feel the distance between you growing wider, and it tore him up inside.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how hard this must be for you, how you were facing it all alone. You were still relatively new to the team, and as far as Spencer knew, this was your first time being kidnapped. After his first time, he had shut everyone out. Granted, he’d been addicted to drugs back then, but that isolation still hadn’t been the right path. It had only deepened the pain, and he feared you might be doing the same thing.

He could only hope you were receiving the support you needed—support he wasn’t sure he could give you anymore.

—

Later that week, you found yourself in the kitchen, trying to ignore the sharp ache in your side as you reached for a mug to make tea. The pain in your ribs flared up with every stretch, the broken bones protesting loudly. As your arm extended toward the cupboard, the burning sensation became unbearable, and you yelped, clutching your side in an attempt to steady yourself.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was filled with concern as he walked into the room just in time to see you wince in pain. He was by your side in an instant, his hands hovering uncertainly, as if he wanted to help but wasn’t sure how far he could go. “Are you okay?”

You grunted, trying to downplay the pain. “I’m fine, just... need a mug.”

Spencer gave a small, understanding nod before stepping in to help. He reached up with ease, grabbing the mug he knew was your favorite—the one you always used for your tea. “Here,” he said softly, placing it on the counter in front of you. “Making tea?”

A small flutter stirred in your chest at the realization that he remembered both your favorite mug and your preference for tea. It was such a small detail, but it felt significant in that moment, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond that still lingered between you despite everything.

—

You laughed as you watched Spencer pour himself yet another cup of coffee. “It’s three in the afternoon, Spencer! Who drinks coffee this late?”

Spencer chuckled along with you, lifting his cup with a playful grin. “Me! Obviously!” he said, gesturing toward the steaming mug with a mock sense of pride.

You bumped his hip with yours, gently nudging him out of the way as you reached for the kettle. “Well, some of us actually like to sleep,” you teased, your tone light and playful.

What you didn’t notice was the way Spencer had stared at you after that, a soft, affectionate gaze lingering on your face, the kind of look that held more meaning than words could express.

—

“Yeah, thanks,” you sighed, knowing you needed the help but still feeling a little self-conscious about it.

Without missing a beat, Spencer grabbed your favorite tea from the cupboard and began steeping it for you, his movements calm and precise. He didn’t ask if you needed more assistance—he just did it, like he knew exactly what you needed in that moment. It was a silent kindness, one that reminded you of the Spencer you knew before everything had gotten so complicated.

As the tea steeped, you leaned back slightly, watching him with gratitude and lingering uncertainty. The simplicity of the moment, of him helping you with something as mundane as making tea, felt like a brief return to the way things used to be between you.

“Do you need help with anything else?” Spencer asked, his gaze fixed on the steaming mug in front of him rather than meeting your eyes. His tone was casual, but there was something tense beneath it, something unspoken that lingered between the two of you.

You frowned, feeling a bit of confusion and then a flicker of annoyance rising up. Was he only doing this out of guilt? You straightened up slightly, crossing your arms over your chest despite the ache in your ribs.

“Look, I appreciate your help, but you don’t have to suck up to me because of what happened,” you said, your words sharper than you intended. You regretted it immediately, but the frustration had been bubbling beneath the surface for a while now—how careful everyone was being around you, how things with Spencer had grown so strange and distant since the kidnapping.

Spencer froze for a moment, his hand still resting on the counter as he absorbed your words. His jaw tightened, and for a second, he didn’t move or say anything. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but steady. “I’m not… sucking up to you.”

You huffed, unsure where this conversation was heading but feeling the tension building between you. “Then what is this? You’ve barely said two words to me since I came back, and now suddenly you’re… what? Trying to make up for it by being overly nice?”

Spencer’s shoulders stiffened, and he finally turned to face you, his expression guarded. “I’m just trying to help,” he said, his voice measured, like he was trying not to let his own emotions show. “I know things are… different now. But I didn’t want to push you into talking or pretending everything’s okay if it’s not. That’s all.”

The frustration in you wavered, your annoyance softening as you realized he wasn’t trying to guilt-trip or coddle you. He was as lost in this new dynamic as you were, both of you navigating the aftermath of something you hadn’t fully processed. His hesitation wasn’t about sucking up—it was about not knowing how to be around you anymore.

“I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You don’t have to fix this, or me.”

Spencer's eyes softened slightly as he watched you, his own uncertainty flickering across his face. “I’m not trying to fix anything,” he said, almost a whisper now. “I just… don’t want to make things worse.”

The weight of his words settled between you, and suddenly the air felt heavy, filled with everything you both hadn’t said since the warehouse.

“Worse, right,” you scoffed, the bitterness lacing your voice before you could stop it. “Sorry I started an awful chain of events.” You could feel the hurt bubbling up again, the weight of rejection you’d been carrying ever since that day in the warehouse. It wasn’t just the physical pain—it was the emotional bruise left behind, the wound that hadn’t healed.

Spencer looked at you, his expression faltering. He opened his mouth as if to respond but then hesitated, unsure of how to mend what had already spiraled so far out of control. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said softly, his words stumbling out in a rush. “We were under a lot of stress… sometimes people say things they don’t mean, searching for comfort.”

You felt your heart drop at his words. He thought it was just a fleeting moment, something you’d said out of desperation. That stung worse than anything. You blinked back the frustration and the tears that were threatening to spill over, the pain in your side flaring as you tried to catch your breath.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed out, the door to the break room slamming behind you with a sharp, echoing crack.

Spencer stood there, stunned, the sound of the door slamming reverberating in the silence. He hadn’t meant to make things worse. He didn’t realize until it was too late that you hadn’t just left the conversation—you had left the room entirely, and maybe… left something between you both behind.

He clenched his hands into fists, a knot tightening in his stomach. He didn’t know how to make this right, how to undo the damage that had already been done. All he knew was that you had walked away and it felt as if he was losing you for good.

—

Things on the team settled into a new rhythm, even if it wasn’t quite the same. Everyone seemed to accept that you and Spencer were no longer as close as you had once been, though there was an undercurrent of tension. The two of you weren’t assigned together anymore, and that seemed to smooth things out for the most part. But it didn’t go unnoticed that Spencer kept a quiet distance, while you partnered up with Derek in the field.

Spencer couldn’t shake the bitterness that crept in when he saw you with Derek. He couldn’t help but wonder if Hotch had reassigned you because he thought Spencer couldn’t protect you, that you needed someone strong like Derek to keep you safe. The thought left him feeling sour, inadequate, like he’d somehow failed. But then, just as quickly, he’d get mad at himself for even thinking that way. You didn’t need protecting. You were more than capable of handling yourself in the field. You had survived worse than most, even if he couldn’t bear to watch it happen.

What gnawed at him most, though, was how happy you seemed with Derek. The way you laughed and joked with him, talking easily like you once did with Spencer. It stirred something ugly inside him, something he didn’t want to admit. He couldn’t deny that Derek was the kind of man who seemed perfect—strong, confident, and charming. A man who could sweep anyone off their feet. He hated that it bothered him, but he’d never allow himself to admit that he was afraid you’d fall for Derek. That kind of jealousy was too much to confront.

You, on the other hand, were content with your new partnership. Derek was easygoing and didn’t pry into your personal life. He let you manage things on your own terms, only asking questions when you willingly brought something up. It was a refreshing change, especially after everything that had happened with Spencer. You didn’t want to talk about what had gone wrong. You were too embarrassed, too ashamed of how vulnerable you had felt. It was easier to leave it behind, buried where no one could see the cracks.

But despite the professional ease, there was still a part of you that missed what you and Spencer once had, even if you’d never admit that either.

—

On one particular case, you and Derek celebrated the capture of an unsub with a big, triumphant hug. In the heat of the moment, you jumped into his arms, and he caught you effortlessly, spinning you around as the rest of the team cheered. It had been the two of you who made the breakthrough that led to the unsub’s hideout, and everyone was thrilled. You were beaming, caught up in the excitement of the team.

But Spencer, standing on the sidelines, was stewing. His mind kept replaying the mistake he had made, the detail he had missed that Derek had caught. And now, it was Derek who had caught you, too. Watching the two of you laughing, hugging, and celebrating felt like a punch to his gut. His insecurities gnawed at him, building into a quiet anger that simmered beneath the surface.

The rest of the team, however, smiled at the sight of you, happy to see you so joyful and healed enough to engage in lighthearted horseplay with Derek. The dark cloud that had followed you since the kidnapping seemed to have lifted, and it was a relief to everyone.

When the team returned to Quantico, Penelope was quick to corral everyone for celebratory drinks at the local bar. You stuck close to JJ and Penelope, grateful for their company as the night went on. After a few drinks, they pulled you out onto the dance floor, laughter bubbling up between the three of you as the music played. You let yourself go, dancing with JJ and Penelope, the worries of the past few months fading in the glow of the evening.

But it wasn’t until Derek joined you girls on the dance floor that something shifted. Spencer, sitting at the bar, felt a surge of jealousy flood through him. Derek was there again, touching your arm, laughing with you, spinning you around as the girls cheered. Spencer’s vision blurred with red-hot anger, the insecurities and feelings he had been burying for weeks now boiling over.

Before he could think twice, Spencer stormed over, grabbing Derek by the arm and pulling him outside the bar. The sudden outburst left Derek confused, glancing at Spencer with genuine concern. “What the hell, Reid?” Derek asked, his voice sharp with confusion but tinged with worry. “Are you okay?”

Spencer was breathing heavily, steam practically pouring out of his ears as he glared at Derek. “Do you like her?” he snapped, his voice cracking with frustration.

Derek blinked, taken aback. “Who? Like who, Reid?”

“Y/N!” Spencer shouted, his voice louder than he intended. “You keep touching her, and dancing with her, and laughing like—like you’re trying to be with her!”

Derek’s face softened in realization, and he held up his hands defensively, trying to calm Spencer down. “Whoa, whoa, kid,” Derek said slowly, his tone measured. “You think something’s going on with me and Y/N?”

Spencer’s chest heaved as he struggled to control the emotions that had been brewing for so long. “I… I don’t know. I just—every time I see you with her, I can’t help but think you’re—”

Derek cut him off gently, shaking his head. “Spencer, man, it’s not like that. We’re friends. That’s it.”

But Spencer wasn’t ready to accept it. “Then why do you keep acting like that with her? I see it, Derek! You’re always laughing with her, touching her, like you’re… like you’re taking my place.”

Derek sighed, finally starting to understand what was bubbling beneath the surface. “Alright, Reid. What’s going on? ‘Taking your place’? You know Hotch was the one who reassigned us all. It’s just work, man.”

Spencer huffed in frustration, his foot kicking at the loose gravel beneath him. His mind raced, emotions swirling, but he couldn’t seem to piece together a coherent response. He felt like a rubber band stretched too far, about to snap, and it wasn’t just about work. He knew that much.

Derek watched him closely, reading the tension in Spencer’s body, the unease in his eyes. “That’s not what you meant, though, is it?” Derek questioned carefully, his tone soft but pressing for the truth.

Spencer’s shoulders tensed even further, his head dipping slightly as he tried to find the right words. “I… I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice shaky with frustration. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to confront what was really bothering him. But he also couldn’t stand feeling like this—watching from the sidelines, seeing you with Derek, seeing you laugh and smile like he wasn’t even part of your life anymore.

Derek took a step closer, lowering his voice so only Spencer could hear. “There’s more, isn’t there?” he asked, but he wasn’t accusing. He was just trying to get Spencer to open up, to confront whatever it was that had him spiraling.

Spencer clenched his fists at his sides, staring at the ground as his heart pounded. “I… I didn’t mean for there to be,” he admitted quietly, his voice strained. “It’s just… I don’t know how to be around her anymore. Everything’s different, and I—I don’t know how to fix it.”

Derek nodded slowly, understanding dawning. “You care about her. More than you’re letting on.”

Spencer’s silence was answer enough. He cared about you deeply—more than he had ever allowed himself to admit, even to himself. And now, watching you get closer to Derek while he kept his distance, it felt like he was losing you, piece by piece.

“I don’t know what happened in that warehouse," Derek began, his voice steady and understanding. "I read the report, but I’m sure there were some forgotten details… stuff that can’t be put into words.” He paused for a moment, giving Spencer a chance to process what he was saying. “If there’s something you need to tell her, just do it, Reid. Y/N isn’t the type to laugh at you or shut you out.”

Spencer sniffled, the tears coming against his will, his emotions too raw to hold back any longer. “I... I know that,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the strain. He wiped at his eyes, feeling small and overwhelmed. “I just want to go back to how things were,” he complained softly, his words sounding almost petulant, like a child wanting to undo what couldn’t be undone.

Derek’s heart softened at Spencer’s admission. He had seen this kind of pain before, knew how trauma could twist things, how it could fracture even the strongest of bonds. “That’s not gonna happen, kid,” Derek said with sympathy, shaking his head gently. “What happened to the two of you… that changes people. It changes the way you see the world, and it changes how you see each other.”

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling the weight of those words sink in. He knew Derek was right. He knew things had changed, that he had changed, and so had you. But hearing it made the ache in his chest sharper, more real.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t rebuild together,” Derek added, his voice hopeful. “It’s not about going back to how things were, Spencer. It’s about moving forward—together. You’ve both been through hell, but that doesn’t mean it’s over. You still have a chance.”

Spencer looked up at Derek, his eyes filled with uncertainty and vulnerability. “What if… what if it’s too late?”

Derek shook his head, giving Spencer’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s only too late if you give up on her. Don’t wait until you lose her for good before you try to fix things. You care about her, Reid. She needs to hear that from you.”

Spencer took a deep breath, nodding slightly, though the fear still gnawed at him. He didn’t know if he was ready, but one thing was certain—he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. He had to find the courage to face you, to face what had changed, and to see if there was still a chance to rebuild the connection he had feared was lost forever.

After their tense conversation outside the bar, Spencer headed home, deciding it was best not to linger. He didn’t want to ruin your night by bringing up anything uncomfortable, and the idea of watching you dance with Derek—or worse, with other men—was too much for him. The weight of jealousy and regret was already suffocating, and he needed space to figure out what he was really feeling.

It turned out to be a good thing he left when he did. After Spencer and Derek stepped outside, you were approached by a very handsome, very suave man. He had an easy charm about him, the kind that made conversation flow effortlessly. His flirtatious smile and smooth lines quickly caught your attention, and for the first time in a while, you felt yourself relax, enjoying the moment without overthinking it.

One drink turned into two, and before you knew it, the night had slipped away. The man offered to take you home, and in the haze of alcohol and the desire to forget the complicated feelings with Spencer, you agreed. You didn’t want to think about what had been left unsaid, about the tension between you and Spencer, or how much everything had changed.

That night, you went home with the charming stranger, eager to escape the weight of the unresolved emotions that had been building for weeks. But in the back of your mind, even as you tried to lose yourself in someone new, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just another way of avoiding what you were really feeling.

—

That one night started a fire inside you, one that you hadn’t realized had been smoldering beneath the surface for so long. The realization that—even if it was just for a fleeting moment—you were wanted, desired, was intoxicating. After everything that had happened with Spencer, after feeling rejected and unsure of yourself, it was refreshing to be wanted without complications or emotional baggage.

The feeling of being desired, even if only for one night at a time, ignited something within you. It gave you a sense of control, of freedom, and it felt good—so good—to be seen as someone worth chasing. So you leaned into it. You found your place in the hookup culture, where the rules were simple and the emotional weight was nonexistent. One night, one person, no strings attached.

And it was fun. The thrill of meeting someone new, the brief connection that didn’t require anything more than mutual attraction, gave you a rush. Sure, the expense of condoms and the constant reminder to stay on top of frequent STD testing was a minor annoyance, but it was worth it for the feeling of power and liberation that came with it.

You felt like you were finally getting your fix, like the hole that had been left after your complicated feelings with Spencer was being filled—albeit temporarily. It wasn’t about love or deep connection anymore. It was about reclaiming something for yourself, something you hadn’t realized you were missing. You had found an escape, and for now, that was enough.

But then, one day, you made a mistake—a slip of the tongue in the office. You weren’t necessarily trying to keep your new lifestyle a secret, but you hadn’t planned on making it common knowledge either. Your friends and coworkers didn’t need to know every detail of how you were trying to get over Spencer, how you had buried your hurt in casual flings to escape the complicated feelings lingering from the rejection.

It happened when Penelope asked about your weekend plans in the bullpen. You casually mentioned that you were busy, but the response sparked curiosity.

"Busy? With what?" JJ asked, her eyes narrowing playfully. As your close friend, she felt like she would have known if you had something going on. She sensed something was off.

You laughed awkwardly, realizing you had stepped into dangerous territory. "Uh, just... seeing a man."

Penelope's face lit up with excitement. "You have a date?" she asked, her glee impossible to hide.

"Not exactly..." you trailed off, hoping the conversation would end there, but you should’ve known better.

Derek, never one to miss an opportunity to tease, raised an eyebrow with a sly grin. "Little miss thing, do you have a scheduled booty call?" he asked, his tone filled with mischief.

Your face flushed fiercely, the blush creeping up your neck. The small, involuntary smile on your lips gave you away instantly, and before you could protest, Penelope squealed with delight, while JJ chuckled in surprise.

"Oh my god!" Penelope exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. "You minx! Why didn’t you tell us?"

You tried to play it cool, shrugging lightly. "I mean, it’s nothing serious. Just… you know… having some fun."

But what you didn’t notice was Spencer, who had overheard the entire conversation from across the bullpen. His face paled, and his heart sank as the reality of your words hit him like a freight train. You were seeing other people. You were sleeping with other men, and it was painfully clear—you were trying to get over him.

The girl he had always wanted—you—had wanted him back. That truth crashed into him with an intensity he wasn’t prepared for, and the weight of it left him standing frozen, unable to process how much he had lost. Spencer felt the deep ache of regret, gnawing at him with every word you spoke to your friends. You had moved on—or at least, you were trying to. And it was all because of him, because he had pushed you away when you had been vulnerable, honest, and open with him.

At that moment, Spencer couldn’t deny it any longer. He finally admitted it to himself—he wants you. He likes you. Maybe he even loves you. He always has.

The realization of what he had been running from all this time hit him harder than any unsub ever could. He had been too scared to face it, too afraid of messing things up between you, too unsure of how to handle his own feelings. But now, watching you laugh awkwardly with your coworkers about casual hookups and hearing how you were slipping further and further away from him, it became painfully clear—he had already messed things up.

Spencer clenched his fists at his sides, his mind racing with the weight of what he'd been denying for so long. He wanted to be the one you turned to, the one you laughed with, the one you came home to after a long day. He wanted to be more than your friend, more than someone you used to be close to. He wanted you in his life, in every possible way.

—

Spencer had always been on your speed dial—back when things were simpler, back when you called him almost every day, your friendship close and easy. So when his phone buzzed after 11 p.m. on a Saturday, his first instinct wasn’t concern. But after everything that had happened between the two of you lately, the timing made him uneasy. This wasn’t normal anymore. He hadn’t heard from you in weeks, not like this, and certainly not at this hour.

His heart pounded as he grappled for the phone, his mind racing. If you were calling him this late, something had to be wrong. He didn’t hesitate for a second, fumbling to answer as quickly as possible, already imagining the worst. “Y/N?” he called out into the phone, his voice tense with worry. “Y/N, are you okay?”

But instead of your voice answering, what he heard stopped him cold.

It was faint at first, a muffled noise, but as he strained to listen, the unmistakable sounds of… pain? groaning? It left him on edge, his panic rising. His mind raced, thinking the worst—had you been hurt? Were you in danger? He called your name again, louder, more frantic this time. “*Y/N!*”

But still, no response from you. Just the sounds, growing clearer, louder.

And then, it hit him like a punch to the gut. Through the haze of sounds on the other end, he heard a man’s voice, moaning your name.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat as realization dawned painfully, his stomach twisting. You hadn’t called him on purpose. You had buttdialled him during a hookup. The groans, the noises that he had thought were of pain—they weren’t what he had feared. They were… something entirely different.

His hands shook as he stared at the phone, the pit in his stomach growing. He could hear everything, the intimacy, the passion—things that weren’t meant for him, things he should never have been privy to. The knowledge of what was happening, of who was with you right now, left him reeling.

He hung up, the phone slipping from his grasp onto the bed. Spencer sat there, stunned, trying to process what had just happened. It was the harshest reminder of what he had lost, of what he had pushed away. You were moving on. You were finding comfort in someone else. And here he was, on the other end of a phone call that was never meant to be made.

For the first time, Spencer felt the full weight of what he had done. He had pushed you away, too scared to face his own feelings, and now he was watching—no, hearing—you slip further away from him. The girl he had always wanted, the one who had wanted him, was now with someone else. And all he could do was sit there, helpless, with the sharp, bitter taste of regret heavy on his tongue.

—

You were blissfully unaware that you had called Spencer the night before. After a fun, carefree night with a man whose name you couldn’t even remember, you woke up feeling satisfied and content. It wasn’t until the next day, when you went to call Penelope, that your heart stopped. Staring at your call log, your eyes widened in horror as you saw the call to Spencer. A call that had lasted for several minutes.

You quickly checked the time. It had definitely been when you and what’s his name were together. Oh god. A pit formed in your stomach as the realization hit you—did Spencer hear anything? Your mind raced, mortified by the idea. You hadn’t spoken to him much lately, and now, this? It was beyond awkward.

By Monday morning, you were terrified to face Spencer. The embarrassment gnawed at you, and the thought of seeing him after that accidental call made your stomach churn. When you arrived at the office, you tried to keep your head down, praying the situation would somehow blow over. But as soon as you made it to your desk, Spencer stormed over, his face set in a hard, unreadable expression.

“Y/N,” he said lowly, his voice tense, “a word.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You nodded silently, following Spencer into the hall, the weight of what you feared was coming making it hard to breathe.

Before he could speak, you blurted out, “Listen, Spencer, I’m sorry—” You didn’t even know how to finish the sentence, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was grappling with something—whether to be angry, hurt, or simply frustrated. “You called me,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with something else you couldn’t quite place. “I heard... a lot.”

Your heart sank even further. He did hear. “Spencer, I didn’t mean for that to happen,” you said quickly, desperate to explain. “It was an accident. I wasn’t trying to—”

“Just…” Spencer interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away, clearly uncomfortable. His voice was quieter now, but the tension between you was palpable. “Please don’t do that again. It was horribly uncomfortable.”

You winced, guilt washing over you. The last thing you had ever wanted was to make Spencer feel that way. “I’m really sorry, Spencer,” you said, softer this time. “I didn’t realize I had called you. If I had known...”

He nodded, still avoiding your gaze. “I know. It’s just… hearing that, knowing what was happening, it was…” He trailed off, the words hanging unfinished in the air.

"It was what?" you pressed, sensing that Spencer was leaving something unsaid, something important.

Spencer glanced away, his expression tense, and then, as if the weight of his feelings could no longer be held back, he blurted it out. "I was jealous, okay?"

You blinked in disbelief. “Jealous?” The word left your mouth before you could stop it, confusion swirling in your mind. How could he be jealous after everything that had happened between you two?

“Yeah, Y/N,” he sighed, finally meeting your eyes, the vulnerability in his gaze clear now. “I was jealous.”

You shook your head, still baffled by his confession. “Spencer, you rejected me,” you reminded him, your voice sharper than you intended. The hurt from that moment still stung, and hearing him say he was jealous felt like a twisted irony.

“I know,” he said quickly, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I know I did, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle what you said or what I was feeling, and I pushed you away. But hearing you with someone else, knowing you’ve moved on… it hit me harder than I expected.”

You stood there, staring at him, processing his words. Part of you wanted to lash out, to remind him of how much his rejection had hurt you. But another part of you, the part that had always cared for Spencer, softened at the sight of him so open, so raw with his emotions.

“Spencer…” you started, your voice gentler now, “you don’t get to be jealous. Not after everything. You made your choice.”

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes full of regret. “And it was the wrong choice. I didn’t realize how much I wanted you—until it was too late.”

There was a pause as his words hung in the air between you.

“Well, I’m sorry it took you so long to realize it,” you said, the hurt still lingering in your voice despite the calm exterior you tried to maintain.

Spencer nodded slowly, his expression full of regret. “Me too,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you then, his eyes filled with all the things he hadn’t been able to say before, the weight of his hesitation clear now that the truth was out.

The silence between you stretched on for a moment, heavy with everything that had gone unsaid for so long. You could feel the weight of it pressing down on you, the hurt and confusion swirling around inside your chest. This was what you had wanted once—to hear Spencer admit that he had made a mistake. But now that it was happening, it didn’t feel as satisfying as you thought it would.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Spencer continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with my own feelings. And now I’m scared I’ve lost you for good.”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. There was no quick fix for what had happened between you. His apology was genuine, but the damage had already been done.

“I don’t know what to say, Spencer,” you admitted. “I’m not going to pretend like this doesn’t hurt, or that everything can just go back to how it was.”

“I understand,” he said softly, looking down at the floor. “I don’t expect things to go back to the way they were. I just… I wanted you to know how I feel. And that I’m sorry.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I appreciate that. But this doesn’t change everything.”

“I know,” he replied, his eyes meeting yours once more. “But maybe… maybe it’s not too late to figure it out. If you’re willing.”

You hesitated, the rawness of the conversation still fresh. You didn’t know if you could open that door again—not yet. But maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.

“We’ll see, Spencer,” you said softly. “We’ll see.”

And with that, the conversation hung in the air, fragile and uncertain, but with the faintest glimmer of hope.

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tag list <333 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic

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yanderemommabean · 5 months

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Hey Beans-

Hey beans, I have a bit of a hellish update.

Yesterday was one of the worst days of my life. My grandma made a huge fight happen while I was on call with a friend, and things just escalated between me and her so badly I had to leave. When I came back home, my family was also on my ass about it all, despite knowing how she lies and how she instigates.

She threatened to hit me, she threatened to kill Sammy, she hurled insult after insult at me and this all started because I didn't get up in time to do something she asked (Which was locking the door. I waited three seconds too long and she went off).

When I came back after trying to let things cool down I was berated and told I had no right to be so “selfish” in the house, so on and so on, and the fight got so intense I had to just physically walk away, leaving the home and going two miles up the road because I did not feel safe.

They made me so sick I began to pee blood again, as well as my sugar spiking and causing me to have palpitations. My heart cannot take this stress anymore, and neither can my mental health. I wish I could explain how bad the situation was. I had tears down my face, gasping for air, chest heaving and in pain, I felt like I was on the verge of passing out.

I got in contact with some good friends of mine, who say they can help get me out of not only that home, but the entire state i'm in. But I need money to do so, for travel and gas and so on. As much as they can house me, they need me to pull my weight.

I hate having to ask for help, I hate that I'm even in this situation, to the point I'm so sick I might have to be seen in the ER or sent to ICU.

I need to come up with 700 dollars, and I'm willing to do some commissions, but with how sick I am I may take a bit to get back with you. I plan to leave by early June, if not the beginning of July, as that's when my friends are able to drive down and get me.

Donations are greatly appreciated, even if you can only afford a single dollar, it’ll be more help than you know.

If you’re wanting a commission, please don't send money and then ask, for your sake and mine. I’m incredibly overwhelmed, and I’ll do my best to get with you and explain rates.

And if you’re willing to donate anything, here’s my Ko-fi link.

Again, I can’t thank you enough for if you donate or even spread this post around, even well wishes mean the world to me because I know you beans care and want to help however you can.

This post was incredibly hard to make, I’m still all over the place and trying to figure everything out, so I apologize if this sounds like rambling and nonsense. There is a silver lining however, as I actually have a way out this time, and I pray I can get out before things can get worse.

-Mommabean

#mommabean #personal #ok to reblog #ok to interact #ok to comment #signal boost #mutual aid #writing commission

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hughiecampbelle · 2 months

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The Boys Preference: Lashing Out And Regretting It

Requested: heyya! love how you write the boys characters you got them so well just like how they are on the show. if its okay and if its a good idea, may i request an imagine with the boys and homelander and their reaction after they and reader got into an argument, getting to the point where they told reader some hurtful things and told reader to leave because they dont need reader or reader is nothing to them/is useless. they just say this because they’re angry but reader takes their word to heart and did just as they said. now they cant find reader or finding it hard to locate reader. could be platonic or familial. thank you! - anon

A/N: Screaming I love this!!! I live for the angst!!! I'm so sorry I've been so slow with requests my loves! I hope you can understand! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Requests are open! 🔮

Butcher embarrassed you in front of everyone. Yelling and screaming, calling you useless, all because Samer got away. You were a little too occupied with Kimiko and Frenchie to realize, opting to save your friend than chase after him. Both Kimiko and Frenchie were eager to come to your aid, but he shut them down. He got in your face and he humiliated you, said the team was better off without you. You left without a word, ignoring your friends who begged you to stay. You left your phone behind, knowing they'd call and text, apologizing for him. You were good at your job, the best even. You and Butcher have worked together a long time. This was your first mistake in a long time and he couldn't let it go. You were done. You packed a bag and disappeared. When they realized they couldn't reach you, they split up, looking at your apartment and usual hang outs. No one had seen you. Suddenly Butcher can feel his heart in his stomach. Regret spread through his chest. Everyone was pissed at him, but no one was angrier at him. He never should have done what he did. Now you were gone. Who knows when you'd show up again?

Hughie regrets it immediately. He said what he said because he was angry, and stupid, and awful. You left the night of the Tek Knight party. You were a Supe, a powerful one, but for whatever reasons, your abilities weren't what they used to be. You argued with him, saying he shouldn't go in alone. It came out before he realized, before he could take it back. Right now, he was more powerful than you were. What right did you have telling him what to do when you couldn't do your single job? The look on your face, the horror and hurt, it made him sick to his stomach. He tried to apologize, to explain, but you were done. You threw your hands up, wishing Hughie and the rest a safe mission, but you were done. M.M. assured him it was better to go through with it than run after you, so he did, but the whole time he's thinking about you. He doesn't find you at the office or apartment. You disappeared. They tried to track you, find you, but they hit wall after wall. You'd show up again, they all told him, you just needed time. He'd never felt so guilty in his life.

Annie didn't think you were trying hard enough. It didn't seem like you cared anymore. Not about the team, or taking down Homelander. You seemed like you were just going through the motions. She meant to just talk with you, but things escalated pretty quickly. As soon as she said the words, she knew she was in the wrong. You were becoming a liability to everyone involved. If you were done, burned out, then just say that. Leave. But if you wanted to be a part of this team, if you really cared, you'd stop being so useless. Truth was, you were tired. You were tired of everything. There was no name calling or fighting back. You didn't have it in you. You got up and you walked out, pushing past Butcher and the rest who were just walking in. Annie goes to follow you, but you just pick up your pace. She calls and texts, but you never answer. Everyone says to give you your space, but she can't let it go. She shows up at your place which is completely empty. It fills her with so much shame. She apologizes profusely, asking you to come back, but she never gets a response.

M.M. is reactive and angry and he knows what he's done is wrong immediately after. He's been in charge of this team and so far all you've been is negative. You've lost your faith in the team. He understands, he gets it, but for the sake of everyone involved, he needs you to look on the bright side. If there isn't one, he needs you to make one. He ends up blowing up at you while you're waiting for Hughie as Webweaver. You tell him, Annie, and Kimiko that you have a bad feeling about this, a terrible feeling, but it was too late to do anything. Hughie was already inside. He knows now is not the time nor place, but he loses it. If you can't have faith in the mission, in your teammates, then you shouldn't be here at all. Your attitude problems only hurt morality and it was worse than useless, it was dangerous. Annie and Kimiko try to de-escalate the situation, but you've made up your mind: you're done. You leave without a second thought, wishing them a safe mission. Because they're all occupied, no one can really do anything about it. After his panic attack, Marvin sees just how right you were, but when he calls it goes right to voicemail. When it seems like you disappeared, he does everything he can to track you down. You don't want to be found, though.

Frenchie fights with you after Samer gets away. It was the three of you that were in charge of him and you let him get away. You didn't have any fight left in you. It was your fault. He must've been working on the cuffs for weeks. You trusted him and you let Kimiko get hurt. You know that's the reason he's so upset: because he had to cut off her leg to save her. She could have died. You know what she means to him. And yet, he goes a little overboard. Everyone thinks so, yelling at him to stop when he's gone too far. You were useless. You let Samer get away, you let Kimiko get hurt, you failed at every single job you were given. He can see the look of hurt on your face and finally stops, the room left in a heavy silence. You grab your coat and you leave. There was no use in fighting with him, he was right. Annie and Hughie called after you, pleading with you to stay, but you waved them off, storming out. When they don't hear from you, they all start to worry. You sent a single text to Frenchie before turning off your phone. Tell Kimiko I'm sorry. Feeling guilty, he goes to your place. You're not there though, and neither are your immediate belongings: wallet, keys, phone, some clothes. He has to do something to fix this, to make things okay.

Kimiko is really hurt you turned yourself in alongside Frenchie. The guilt was eating you alive, all the things you've ever done. It was horrible. It was unforgivable. When you come back alongside Butcher, who insists you and Frenchie can replicate the virus, you can't stand to look at her. She wants to talk with you, to ask you why, and eventually, when you get a little alone time, she does. Of course she would understand, your upbringings were cruel, brutal, and it lead you down this road, but you couldn't move on. You couldn't forgive yourself. Kimiko was pissed. Did you really think it was that easy? Did you really think you were the only one eaten alive by guilt and shame and self-hatred? She was signing at you furiously, as close to yelling as she could get. You were so smart, so intelligent, and yet you were wasting your talents wanting to rot away in prison! If you were going to throw your talents away and hurt the team and hurt her and become a useless nobody, then what was stopping you? Certainly not her, not any of your friends. You don't have it in you to fight back. You don't have anything left in you, not anymore. She tries to get your attention when you leave, but you don't look back. When none of them hear from you, Kimiko begs The Boys to do everything they can to find you. Please, she has to make things right.

Bonus! Homelander cuts people out of life left and right. Still, you never thought he would turn on you. And yet, when you don't know who the snitch is, when you're not closer to pinpointing the culprit, he loses it. His eyes even heat up, though he catches himself, calming himself down. Firecracker interrupts his yelling, foolishly, but in the end it saves you from hearing anymore about how pathetic, useless, stupid you are. That you don't deserve to be a part of The Seven, you don't deserve to be a Supe at all. He goes off with her, believing it was Webweaver all along. You don't know how much time you have, but you know, in order to avoid his wrath, you have to leave right away. Get some space between you so that he can cool off, if he ever does. You took it as a pretty clear way of saying that you were out, you lost his trust. You weren't a friend anymore, you weren't anything anymore. Firecracker had saved the day. Again. When he comes back, covered in blood and no closer to finding the narc than he was before, he goes looking for you. He searches the entire city, but you've disappeared completely. Vanished.

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violet-butterflies · 1 year

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❥︎ yandere! Dilf

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ drugging, stalking, delusional, doing things without consent ( male yandere! oc x female reader ) Click to see part 2 !

It was a sunny afternoon when yandere! dilf finally finished unloading his and his son's stuff into their new home. Due to work and terrible memories from his past marriage, he moved into a different town with his son to start a new life. He was just beginning to unpack everything when someone knocked on his door.

"Hi! I'm your neighbor! I noticed that you were spending the whole day just unloading stuff so I decided to make you and your son some lemonade!"

The voice came from a woman who had a jug of lemonade on a tray with a couple of glass cups to pour the citrus drink into. Yandere! dilf couldn't help but smile at the offer as his muscular hands take the tray from your hands as he sent a pearly white smile their way.

"Thanks! I really appreciate it. I'm yandere! dilf by the way," he introduced himself while his son hides behind his leg "and this is my son."

"I'm (y/n)! Well then, I'll see you around neighbor!" (y/n) then disappeared back into their house which was right beside his. At first, yandere! dilf thought that he liked them because of their kind gift but it was only going to escalate from there.

It really surprised yandere! dilf a few days when he met (y/n) again only in the most unexpected place. He was picking his son up from kindergarten when he realized that you were there, playing with his son.

"(y/n)? What are you doing here?"

"Oh! This is really such a coincidence! I happen to be your son's kindergarten teacher!" she explained with a bright smile on her face as his son came rushing to hug him.

"I was only playing with him since all the kids left already and I didn't want him to be alone for too long"

Yandere! dilf felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"I'm really sorry about that. I've just been swamped with work and before I knew it, I was 2 hours late to pick him up."

You sent the muscular man a sympathetic smile.

"No, I completely understand... Does this mean that he's with babysitters most of the time?"

"That's what My plan is but well... it seems like I'm finding difficulty finding any babysitters in this neighborhood"

"If you'd like, I can babysit your son on the weekends? I happen to need some extra money but, don't worry, I won't charge a crazy amount. We're neighbors after all," she offered.

Ever since (y/n) offered yandere! dilf to be his son's babysitter, he only began seeing more and more of you inside his house. Yandere! dilf only expected you to take care of his son but you always seemed to go above and beyond. Sometimes, if the house was messy you'd try to clean it as best you could. Or maybe when you knew that he'll be home late, you'd prepare a simple dinner for both his son and him.

"Don't worry about it! Being a single parent must be really hard so I'll try to help you as best as I can!" That was always the kind of answer you would give when yandere! dilf feels bad for having you do all the housework.

Slowly though, yandere! dilf can't help but feel like (y/n) was acting just like a stay-at-home wife for him and he liked it. He can't help but daydream of situations where you were actually his wife. Situations where he was sharing a bed with you or taking you out on dates or sometimes to the extent of either their marriage or what their future children would look like.

Yandere! dilf might not look like it but, he was completely smitten. He was scared however of you finding out that he had a fat massive crush on you since he was at least 7 years older than you. This crush caused him to be obsessive and overprotective of you.

"What if she finds someone better? What if she is seeing someone?" Those were the questions that always made him have a small panic attack. He can't afford to lose someone so perfect; someone, who proved herself to be the perfect wife for him.

So, yandere! dilf would set up cameras in his house and ask you to babysit all the time. This would mean that he could always see you playing with his son through his phone and it always makes his heart swell with joy. He loved seeing how well you were getting along with the most precious little human in his world which only boosts the idea of how you were the only perfect person to be his son's mother and his wife. Not only that, but to take it one step further, he loved to buy you some treats or drinks when he gets back from work. The only catch is that they were drugged so you'd always end up falling asleep in yandere! dilf's house. (Y/n) never found it too odd though since you always connected it to you being too exhausted by playing with yandere! dilf's son all day.

(Y/n) falling asleep in his house was a big win for yandere! dilf too. The drugs that he used would make (y/n) fall into such a deep sleep it would actually be impossible to wake you up. This would mean that he can take as many pictures as he can and make you sleep on the bed with him before he has to move you to a spare room before you wake up to avoid suspicion. He loves it when he gets to snuggle your smaller body on his bed; a bigger plus if his son decides to join in. It was as if you three were already a picture-perfect family that yandere!dilf always dreamed of. His phone gallery is now filled to the brim with pictures of his son and you. His phone wallpaper is (y/n), there was a group picture of (y/n), his son and him set as his computer wallpaper, and there was a picture of (y/n) and his son in his wallet; acting like the perfect family he always dreamed of.

"Oh, good morning (y/n)! You fell asleep here again. Don't worry about it though! Here I made us all breakfast!"

#tw: stalking #tw: yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #lovesick #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere dilf #yandere dilf x reader #obsession #obsessive love #yandere blog #obsessive yandere #yandere drabble

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lyvhie · 5 months

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a different kind of exercise | ljn

personal trainer!jeno × fem!reader (18+ mdni)

summary: he just wanted to give you a private lesson.

a/n: sorry, that didn't go well as i wanted, but i didn't have anything planned for his bday and this ended up coming out 😭 i didn't like that one, but happy bday to jeno!

cw: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, petnames (baby/pretty)

jeno was not planning on this. yet he was glad it happened.

when he accepted to be your personal trainer, he didn't think much about it. you seemed like a genuine newbie in the gym, seeking legitimate help. unlike other people, you hadn't chosen him just because of his good looks, he could see that you actually wanted to learn.

he wasn't expecting much to come from your time together aside from some casual conversation during workouts and the occasional advice about exercising, but he found himself growing more interested in you than his purpose of teaching.

he didn't know why exactly, but he felt an attraction to you that he couldn't explain. sometimes he would even find himself acting like a pervert. and he knew that was wrong, but it was all somehow your fault.

he would often blame you for wearing those tight leggings that gripped onto your body like a second skin. he knew it wasn't fair to blame you for their existence, but he also couldn't help but be distracted by their form-fittedness.

but he was glad you wore them. he loved it when you folded forward, giving him a great view of your ass. he would make up some excuse about you doing it wrong just to get closer and hold your waist. he would press you against him and lean over you, telling you "how it should be done," while enjoying the feel of your body pressed against his. he enjoyed taking his time to "help you do it right" so that he could spend more time up close with your ass rubbing against his cock.

or when he is "helping you out" by adjusting your position and form while doing an exercise. he knew that wasn't necessary, but he used the excuse of "straightening you up" to sneak his hands around you. he would grab a handful of your breasts, pretending to position you properly to do the exercise but actually taking the chance to feel you up.

jeno would often find excuses to get close to you, brushing up against you or putting his hands on your body more often than necessary, always trying to touch you in subtle ways that he hoped you wouldn't notice.

and that was the best—or worst—part of it all. you were completely clueless about his actions, genuinely thinking it was just his way of teaching. honestly, it wasn't bothering you at all. in fact, you even secretly enjoyed it when he was "just teaching you" and getting a bit too close for comfort by holding you up and touching your body.

but still, for jeno, this was pure agony too. all he craved was to fuck you senseless until you were practically limping, but he couldn't just spit it out. ever since your sessions began, he caught himself fucking his fist at night thinking about you, he'd daydream about pounding into you, making you yell his name 'til you were hoarse.

gosh, he needed you so bad.

and so he made it.

it was easier than he thought. all he had to do was come with an excuse to get you to his house. saying he needed to "go over some information" about your exercises and "get more in-depth" with your routine, he asked you to come over to his place to "work through the details" of your activities.

he can't really remember how things escalated from telling you to make yourself comfortable to him pressing you up against the bed mattress with your legs around his waist while you cry out his name because of how good it feels to have his cock stretching your tight pussy.

“you feel so—god, so f-fucking good,” jeno’s hands grip your hips tightly as he thrusts deeper into you, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing second. your hands were gripping the sheet so tightly that your knuckles were white, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“y-you're so tight, baby,” he looked down to see where your bodies connected, watching as his length disappeared into your welcoming pussy.

"fuck, y/n... you take me so well,” he breathes heavily, trying to maintain control as you clench around him. "i could stay here forever,” his cock slamming into you with such force that you could feel it in your bones.

the sensation of him filling you up completely is almost too much to bear, but you wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world right now.

jeno feels your body tensing up and your warm walls squeezing him again, making him groan. “are you close, pretty?” the only answer for his question were your loud moan and it was enough for him.

you gasp when he suddenly changes your position, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder and driving himself even deeper inside of you. the new angle hits all the right spots, and you feel yourself being stretched to the limit, even more sensitive as his hand slip down to rub your clit.

you starts to feel an orgasm building inside of you, which made you let a whine escape your lips. you didn't want this moment to end, but you know it's going to be explosive when it finally does. you focus on the sensation of him filling you up, on the sound of your bodies slapping together, and on the scent of sex in the air. it's a heady combination that sends you over the edge, you body shuddering and convulsing beneath his as you milk his cock.

jeno himself couldn’t hold back his own climax any longer, the way your face contorts in pure bliss as you come undone beneath him sends him over the edge. feeling his orgasm getting closer and closer, his thrusts became a little more messy, but still at the same pace. it felt so good he almost forgot to pull out, withdrawing just in time to cum on your thigh, his hot load sticking to your skin.

he falls onto the bed next to you, the only sound now is your heavy breathing as you both try to compose yourself. you continue to silently stare at the ceiling for a few more minutes before turning your head to look at him, just to find him already looking at you.

“so…” you begin. “same time next week?”

#jeno x reader #jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader

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arting-block · 6 months

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 | Eleventh Doctor x F! Reader

❝𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯.❞

Summary: After a stressful day, you overhear Amy arguing with the Doctor. When he realized you heard everything, he tries to set things right.

Warnings: Angst, mentioned kidnapping, misunderstanding, pinning, comfort, the Doctor sucking at feelings

Words: 3.8K

A/N: I'm finally getting through the requests sitting in my inbox. This one was one of my favorites I've done in a while :) @shuichiakainx i hope you enjoy!!

You messed up. Badly.

The Doctor had explicitly stated for you to stay by his side. No wandering about, no talking to strangers, don't do anything foolish. The city you were visiting had a different culture, one steeped in brutal violence. Any slight can be perceived as an invitation for war.

You should've minded your own business. Maybe you wouldn't have gotten kidnapped. Even though your friends freed you hours ago, you can still feel the imprint of metal cuffs around your wrists. Your hands busy themselves with rubbing the area, bandages wrapped around your pulse where the metal snagged your skin.

You tried to defend an elderly man from getting hurt by a group of teenagers. You foolishly tried to shield the man from the onslaught of abuse, hoping to simply talk to the teenagers so that things wouldn’t escalate. Oh how wrong you were.

You knew you messed up. You had already regretted your choices the moment rough hands gripped your arms and hauled you into a foreign ship.

The Ashmadas were almost a whole head taller than you. Thick yellow hides that became scaly along their joints, blunt canines that were meant for crushing bones and skin, and the fluorescent eyes that glowed even in pitch black darkness. A species that evolved from war and brutality. Even the most intimidating human would look like field mice in comparison.

What you hadn't anticipated was the cold demeanor of your Doctor. You imagined him being cross, yes, but never downright angry. The moment he and the Ponds made it to the threshold where you were held, you noticed how calloused he had been. Snarling words, tension rippling beneath the skin. Furious didn't begin to explain his behavior. He threatened to set off a bomb that will incinerate everyone in the ship and release a plague to their already dwindling community. When you finally got out of your shackles, the Doctor barely even acknowledged you, hellbent on making the Ashmadas a new endangered species. It was only when you grabbed his face, forced him to see the tears as you begged him to leave, did he finally back off.

As the four of you retreated to the console room of the TARDIS, the Doctor makes a flimsy excuse about needing to check the ship’s engine. The day’s events have been heavy for all of you, so you knew it was more about him needing space. When you tried to talk to him, he brushed off your touch and gave you a cold reply.

You walked back to your room not long after. Rory patched you up as best he could, using a concoction of human and alien medicine. He didn't speak much and you were grateful for the silence. The only words he slipped out were sincere apologies for not getting there sooner. There was something else he wanted to say, moments where he opened his mouth but nothing came out. You were, frankly, too tired to press further.

Once Rory left, you tried your hardest to get some sort of sleep. Your body was spent, bruised, and tattered. No matter how many times you turned or how much your body ached, your mind couldn’t stop racing. You’ve probably spent a good hour or so trying to get comfortable, but to no avail.

You were still on edge, thinking about the cramped cell you were placed in. How alone you felt. You’ve been in precarious situations before, but this was different. Three whole days of captivity in total isolation. No light peeking through so you had nothing to distract you. Just your own memories passing through your mind. It made you realize just how much your friends mean to you. How much their presence comforted you, how relieved you were when Amy’s voice cut through your dark Hell. You remember sinking into the Doctor’s embrace, crying into his jacket and muttering how sorry you were.

There was so much you wanted to tell him. Those three days spent curled into a ball were filled with memories of him. His laugh echoing in your ear while carrying you throughout the universe. Petty arguments filled with teasing and embarrassed faces. The way he finds himself beside you, always lingering like a string was attached between the two of you.

The most treasured memory of all was one where it was just the two of you. Talking about nothing and everything. Favorite color, worst kitchen appliance, obscure historical figures. You talked for hours, laying your whole life for him to dissect. When it was his turn to speak, you took the opportunity to study him. Cataloging the slope of his nose, the lines around his mouth, and his mannerisms. The way he points going in tandem with the pitch of his voice, how his whole body moves when he talks.

You wanted to scream in his face the moment you saw him. Tell him the three words you repeat in your head when he’s around. Instead, all that came out was unintelligible sobs into scratchy fabric.

Tell him, tell him everything.

The bed creaked when you moved to sit up. Your heart ached at seeing the Doctor’s fury and how silent he was when you came back. You caused him worry, not just to him, but to the Ponds as well. The last thing you want is to end the day on a sour note. He’s your friend after all, even if you wanted something more.

It didn’t take long to reach the console room. You took your time with each step, wanting to get your thoughts in order. You pick up voices coming ahead of you, muffled words that you cannot make heads or tails of. As you approach the end of the hallway, you hear the muffled words turn into the familiar voice of Amy in a rather accusatory tone. You peek around the corner, observing the view of your two friends from above.

Amy stands a few feet away from the Doctor, who is hunched over the console. Amy’s face is a mix of concern and disappointment, as if she’s scolding a child. You notice the dirt smeared shirt she still wears, meaning she hasn’t gotten back to her room just yet. Was she here the whole time?

Crossing her arms, Amy shook her head at the tired man in front of her. “You’re never going to admit it are you?”

“What are you talking about? There’s nothing to admit.” The Doctor’s answer is just as cold and detached as it was hours before. “If you’re just going to go back and forth with me all day then I suggest you go spend your time with your husband. I told you before I’m not in the mood for your scolding.”

Amy’s laugh is devoid of any humor. She takes a step towards the Doctor. You see the pent up anger in her; a fuse ready to blow. “You think you’re so good at hiding it. You think we’re too stupid to notice—that I’m too stupid to not bring it up?”

“What exactly are you talking about?”

You shouldn’t eavesdrop like this. If the Doctor found out that you were listening in on a private conversation, he would no doubt be more angry than before.

Amy ignored the question, wanting to force the Doctor into a corner to say what she wanted to hear. “I’m honestly impressed how long you’ve lasted. Were you going to bury your emotions and hope they would simply disappear? You think pushing her away is going to make it hurt any less? I see the way you look at her.”

The Doctor snaps back, angry and seething. “Spit it out already Amelia!”

“(Y/N)!” came her equally furious reply, one that echoed sharply in the large room.

Your heart skidded to a stop in your chest. Why was she goading him like this? You didn’t recall telling Amy about your feelings for the Doctor. Was it that obvious? If she noticed, does that mean…?

The Doctor was quick to invade Amy’s space. He towered above her, his teeth bared with provoked anger. “And what exactly do you want me to admit? That she's careless and doesn’t listen to a word I say? How do I have to clean up her mess after she did the one thing I told her not to?”

Hearing the pained emotion in his voice made every word sting harder. He was not wrong to say it, but it hurt nonetheless. You wished that he would’ve said it to your face rather than having to overhear it in the shadows.

He didn’t stop there. It seemed Amy had opened a dam of pent up thoughts and emotions. Words kept spilling from his lips, each one hurting more than the last. “You know what I see when I look at her? A fragile human being. Someone who is only going to occupy a fraction of my existence.”

“You love her,” Amy spits back, wholly convicted. Tears prick her eyes as she barrels on. “Admit you stupid old man. You. Love. Her.”

Her words seemed to shock the Doctor out of his wrath. He immediately steps back, as if her presence burns.

The two of them look at one another, chests heaving. Amy doesn’t back down, keeping her chin held high, meeting his burning gaze. The Doctor’s face is unreadable, partially due to the fact that you don’t have a good vantage point. The anger doesn’t leave him, but you could tell that he’s considering her words.

You hold your breath, not wanting to miss his response.

It comes out soft, barely within normal talking level, but in the dead silence of the console room you hear it as clear as day: “How can I love her? I won’t—I can’t let that happen.”

You felt your heart drop out of your chest. All of the hurt spirling inside your chest, clawing a cavernous hole to fill with despair.

He doesn’t love you.

You were paralyzed, replaying that awful sentence over and over again. You bring a hand to cover your mouth, feeling the droplets of tears already flowing.

He doesn’t love you and he’s making sure it doesn’t happen.

Are you that awful to be around? That the mere thought of being romantic with you makes him angry?

Your hand presses at the space where your heart lies. Your shirt twists, your body curling deeper into the shadows of the room. You’ve experienced heartbreak before, back on Earth throughout the years. Never like this. It was more than a simple rejection, but a swift blow to your entire worldview.

You thought, foolishly, that maybe there was something between you two. He wouldn’t have let you stay as long as you had if he didn’t like you. All those late night conversations…the small brushes of skin when no one is looking…all of the glances you caught more than once…

They were nothing.

Stumbling back into the hallway, you ran as fast as you could to your room. The TARDIS bestowed mercy on you, materializing your room just a few feet away. You didn’t think twice to fly open the door and slam it shut behind you. You knew the sound would travel to the console room and alert Amy and the Doctor, but you didn’t care.

The force of your cries shook your body, your sobs filling your room despite your hands trying to muffle them. Over and over you replay the entire conversation. You wished the TARDIS would swallow you whole and spit you far, far away from the Time Lord.

You hear the sound of thundering steps approach your room before the sound of frantic knocking against your door.

Before the person could utter a single word, you let out a strangled demand: “Go away!”

“(Y/N), I can—” the Doctor cut himself short. He let out a frustrated huff before starting again. “Please, it’s not what you think.”

Those words snapped you out of your whirlwind of sadness. Anger bubbled in its place.

“Not what I think?!” You didn’t think twice before forcefully opening the door. The Doctor jumps from his spot in front of your room, a show of surprise on his face. “I heard everything.”

The Doctor places his hand up in surrender. The cold, neutral face he had on before is completely wiped away, leaving a startlingly emotional one instead. “Please, if you give me a moment—”

“What more could you say to me?” It comes out shaky, with tears still dripping down your face in rivers. You no doubt look like a complete wreck, but you’re too upset to care. You’re tired of bottling your emotions up. You want him to know how much this meant to you, how much his words physically hurt you. “I know you’re already upset at me that I didn’t listen to you, I know that. You don’t get to stand there and act like this is a whole misunderstanding. I mean come on—fragile human?”

“I know and I’m—”

“I was so relieved to see you again. Three days, Doctor. Three whole days, spent in that cell waiting for you. I felt so guilty for not listening and I hoped that we could reconcile, but no. I was fine with giving you space, but then I had to overhear you talk about me like I’m some burden.” You force yourself to take a deep breath, choosing your next words carefully. “Is that how you really feel about me?”

The Doctor doesn’t respond, which makes you even more angry.

“Did you know?” you spit out. It took everything in you to not shut the door in his face and never come outside again. But you needed to know. “Did you know?”

The silence that came thereafter was deafening. The Doctor let his hands drop to his sides. You didn’t dare blink, watching his every move, waiting for a response. His head dips to the side, his lower lip caught in his teeth as he stares at a spot on the floor. You knew he knew what you were referring to.

When he lifts his head, you were surprised to see such bare remorse. Still, it does nothing to quell you; if anything you’re happy he’s feeling the guilt.

“Yes…I knew for a while,” he mumbled, forcing the words to come out. “Rory’s mum told me, said that you liked me. I told her that of course you liked me, I’m the Doctor. But she gave me a serious look and told me you fancied me.” His lips twisted up at the memory, but seeing your withering glare he quickly dropped it.

You gripped the doorframe, recalling the visit clearly. The Ponds had called you, wanting to go on another adventure after nearly three months of normalcy on Earth. In their absence, it was just you and the Doctor against the universe. Three months of staring longingly at the madman in a box, wanting to spill your guts but feeling too scared to. When the Ponds came back, you remembered Rory’s mum taking the Doctor to the side, whispering in his ear. You had asked what she said, but the Doctor gave a flustered reply. His ears were pink, and his words were hastily spat out.

“That was over a year ago. You knew all that time?” You wanted to scream every curse you knew, both English and alien. It took everything in you to not tear him a new one right then and there. “And I had to hear you say it to Amy of all people? Someone who also fancied you, and if I recalled kissed you?”

It was unfair to throw that back in his face knowing that they moved on from that incident. Amy had since made it explicitly clear that she loved him platonically and was wholly committed to Rory.

The Doctor took a tentative step towards you, unsure if you were going to disappear back into your room. He took another, and another. You couldn’t look him in the eyes, opting to stare at his scuffed shoes.

You could feel him get closer. It unnerved how much you still wanted to be near him, despite everything.

The Doctor’s hands found the curve of your cheek, gently tilting your face up to meet his gaze. Warm palms cupped the sides of your face and his thumbs wiping away the tears that still fell. The sheer intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, burning into you. You watch as his green irises start getting glassy; the planes of his cheeks become a flushed pink. He stood there for a few moments, simply holding your face, looking at you as if it’s the last time he ever will.

You let yourself bask in his touch. He took another step towards you, still holding your face. You closed your eyes as you felt the cool touch of his forehead against yours.

“Doctor—”

“You have every right to be upset.” He gave a chuckle, but you heard the pain in his voice. “You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you. I looked forward to the nights where you pester me with odd questions. Every morning I pray that you stay another day with me, hoping that you don’t wish to go back to Earth.”

The confession scares him, you feel it in the way he tries to keep his voice even. When he pulls his forehead from yours, he still hovers over your face, staring with the heat of all the feelings he tried so desperately to hide.

His eyes move over every inch of your face before settling back to your swollen eyes. You watch his eyes soften, as if he’s seeing the most beautiful star nestled in the depths of your pupils. So focused on the heat of his hands and the movement of his eyes, that you almost miss the twin stream of tears running down his own face.

The Doctor took one shuddering breath, letting his thoughts flow out. “I couldn’t let myself acknowledge my feelings—I couldn’t. Everyone I ever loved…everyone I got close to is gone because of me. I couldn’t let that happen, especially not to you. But then you had to get yourself kidnapped.” His voice trailed off, cracking at the memory.

You dared not to move, fearful that he would snap out of the spell he found himself in. You can’t recall a time where he was this open to you, about his feelings no less. All the pent up emotion you felt before settled to a dull throb in your heart.

“I would’ve brought the entire fleet down on its knees, have them beg for mercy.” You felt the rage in his voice, knowing full well that he meant every word. “When I couldn’t find you, I was terrified. You were gone before…”

His hands trembled, his breath became more ragged. You’ve never seen true terror on his face.

You whisper, just barely audible to his ears. “Before what Doctor?”

He shakes his head, almost wishing he didn’t open his mouth. When you silently pressed him to answer, he couldn't help but cave.

“I lied back there, with Amy,” the Doctor rushed, trying to get all his disorganized thoughts out. “I lied—I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

“What? Didn’t mean wha—”

“It already happened,” he cried, his body caving towards you. “I told myself I couldn’t let myself love you. I…I lied.”

You felt your heart stop for the second time today. Your mouth slightly agape, unsure of how to respond. The Doctor takes a half step, effectively caging your body against his. You own shaking hands rested atop of his, hoping to calm him.

“Every moment I spent with you, I spent yearning,” he says with such emphasis that leaves no room for doubt. You cry harder at the admission. “I took my frustration on you, made you think that I could never love you. I do—Stars, I do. You have no idea how much I do.”

You couldn’t hold back the loud sob that overtakes your whole body. A cry that leaves the Doctor’s two hearts aching knowing that he caused your pain. He continues to rub his thumbs over your cheeks, not to wipe away the tears, but to soothe you.

“Say it,” you plead, words scraping against your throat. “Say it and I’m yours. I’ll be yours forever.”

Your words trigger something in him, that same fear that made him distant towards you. He doesn’t move from his spot, paralyzed by the decision.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” came his equally desperate reply. “I can’t lose you too.”

“We’ll find a way. You always do.”

The Doctor sags against you, resting his forehead against yours once more. Cries of his own shake him, his tears joining yours on the TARDIS floor. You take it upon yourself to mirror his actions; your hands gently holding his face. His once bright, crystal green eyes were now blurred with tears, encased by swollen, flushed eyelids.

“I love you.”

A barely audible whisper, one meant for you. Said with such raw intensity that it echoes in your ear, seared in your mind forever.

The Doctor clears his throat, furrowing his brows in concentration. “I love you. Stars above, I love you.” He speaks louder, not wanting you to miss a word. “I’ve loved you for years and I was too much of a coward to tell you. I’ll make it up to you, show you how much I’ve wanted you, if you let me.”

A smile stretched across your face. Pure euphoria filled your body, buzzing with a high that made you lightheaded. You feeled the charged energy between you two. The Doctor stills, anxiously awaiting for your response.

“I’m yours,” you say in the shared space between you. A declaration, waiting for the final seal. “I love you, Doctor.”

The Doctor slants against you, finally removing the last inch of space between you. His kiss falls over you like the whispered confession he had given you. His lips mold against yours, slow and lingering. One kiss, then another. You grasp onto him, your hand threading into his hair, another along his jacket. His hands no longer tremble. You feel his palms leave your face and travel down to the curve of your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his body.

When you pull away to breath, he wastes no time burying his face against your neck, peppering the heated skin with kiss after kiss. He finds the spot where your pulse meets your jaw, sucking on the skin harshly, making you shudder. The Doctor overwhelms your senses; his touch, his scent, the taste of his mouth—

The Doctor gives one final kiss against your lips, before releasing you. He watches you catch your breath, seeing your relieved smile stretching across your face. He feels his face mirroring that same delirious smile.

I’m yours, his two hearts sing. I’m yours forever.

#eleventh doctor request #eleventh doctor x y/n #eleventh doctor x you #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor #doctor who #bbc doctor who #11th doctor x you #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor x y/n #eleventh doctor angst #11th doctor angst

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sincerelybubbles · 2 months

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i just think that james would make the best boyfriend. and i know it's not a new thought or even an uncommon one, everyone knows james loves fast and he loves deep, but i cannot help but imagine how healthy your relationship would be with him.

like, yes, when he picks you he's fiercely protective and obsessed with you beyond belief. he's always touching you, skin to skin, pouting when you're holding his hand because you're wearing gloves and he wants to feel you ("I'll put your hand in my pocket," he whines when you explain that your hand is just cold. you give him a fake glare but three minutes later, tops, you're holding his hand, no gloves, in his hoodie pocket and he's walking around with the biggest grin on his face, all white teeth on display). he compliments you every time you turn a corner for everything you do, he drops anything and everything for you the second you even breathe like you might need something. his professions of love are as breathtaking as they are frequent ("i just love the way you exist," he whispers in the morning, smoothing your hair out of your face, "i mean, it's 7 in the morning and usually i'm struggling to open my eyes but your hair is frizzy and i know where all of your freckles are and i can't wait to count them, you know?").

but i think beyond that, there's a sort of solidness that comes from healing together. from finding the flaws in your relationships, testing them until the cracks widen enough for you two to patch together, and relishing in the firmness of what used to be weak. james overwork himself. he used to spend restless hours finishing work at home, dejectedly pushing you off in fear of letting down his coworkers. working at the gym until his muscles screamed, unable to even lift his fork for dinner without his pecs screaming at him. planning dates and activities on your days off together to the point where you felt like you couldn't breathe. everything done with the lacing of care, tinged with the effort he put into every moment of life. it felt wrong for you to comment on at first. he tries so hard all of the time to do everything for everyone -- be everything for everyone, even himself. good things, at their core, that you didn't want to rub the shine out of by getting your fingerprints on. but you watched him fracture and put him back together when the effort became too much and crumpled his facade. you taught him self-restraint, reminded him to allow you to take some of the burden, showed him the simple pleasure of taking up space together without thinking of how every moment could be maximized. in turn, he helped you with sleep. self-confidence. how to talk through hurt feelings instead of lashing out.

james wouldn't let comments turn into fights. ("what do you mean when you say that?" he asks instead, sitting beside you and ducking his head to meet your eye, be at your level. his fingertips rest on your forearm, skin-to-skin like always. eyes open, alert, lips pressed together to tell you he's confused, doesn't agree, but posture telling you he's willing to listen more than he's willing to escalate). and when fights happen, of course they happen, you've taught him it's okay to walk away. it's not defeat. neither of you leave the flat, only to separate rooms, but it usually only takes 20 minutes before you're reaching out again, missing his warm fingers settling on the soft place behind your ear as he messes with your hair while you talk, and you're whispering your way through the problem. untangling to the root like it's a tangled group of threads, working through it together,

so, yeah, i can't stop thinking about how james would be such a good boyfriend. for the obvious reasons, always, but for the ones deeper from the surface. for the reasons that would cause issues first and how ready he would be to dive in and make the faults strengths of their own as well.

not edited, not proof read, i'm so sorry it's 1am and i can't stop thinking about him

#bubbs.writes #marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders fanfiction #james potter marauders #marauders x reader #fem reader as always #but i feel like it could be read neutral easily #sorry i know i said i was going to bed #but thoughts!#idk if these types of rambles even do well / are liked anymore but i like them so here it is #i also don't know if i've posted any marauders on this account #so heyyy if i havent #james x reader #x reader #fluff #james is best boyfriend #prongs x reader

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 9 months

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Stalker Malleus Headcanons:

Malleus is THE stalker of all stalkers

Now of course, his obsession with you came from the want to be friends with you.

The as he stalked you for longer periods and noticed the cute little things you do, he felt a one sided closeness to you

That platonic want for you then turned into romantic feelings.

That’s when when he starts to steal things from your dorm and take pictures of you in secret

He knows your schedule

He knows where you live

He knows what floor you live on in Ramshackle

He knows your preferences

He knows your friend group

He knows everything that is to be known about you

You only start to notice someone might be stalking you when you see the figure of a young man standing out in Ramshackle’s garden

The next day, things start to get escalate

The roof and gargoyles on Ramshackle are cleaned

There’s footprints on the dust on the floor leading to your room

And that loud green haired first year keeps trying to gain your attention.

Sebek keeps trying to drag you to Diasomnia to meet his master but you could care less.

There’s a weirdo coming in and out of Ramshackle and they know where you sleep.

You go to Sam for an amulet of protection, and hang it up on the front door.

When Malleus comes to Ramshackle, like he does every night, he notices the amulet and takes it. You don’t need this silly thing. He’s here to protect you. No one would mess with the darling of one of the greatest mages in the world. But, you’re obviously telling him you like jewelry, so he’ll grant your desire.

He sees your bedroom window and looks at your sleeping form. You look so cute like that. All snuggly and warm. But now’s not the time for adoration.

Malleus teleports inside and leaves the amulet on your nightstand with a Draconia family insignia stamped letter. He kisses your head, and you stir in your sleep.

He teleports outside your window, and just as he’s floating away, you wake up and see him. That young man isn’t a figure anymore, he’s a person. A person with glowing green eyes and horns(?).

You see the amulet on your nightstand and your eyes widen with fear. You shakily open the letter, not paying attention to the insignia and read the most terrifying sentences in your life.

There’s no need for such mear amulets for protection when you have me around. But since you like jewelry so much, may I inquire what type you like? - M

You grab grim, your backpack, essentials, and book it.

You travel to Heartslabyul where you sneak inside, and knock on Ace and Deuce’s door.

You explain everything to them.

❤️“No way, who could be stalking you?”

♠️“I’ll make sure they get a good beating!”

You ask if they would let you stay the night, and of course they said yes.

Now, one night became seven nights, and Malleus is getting cranky.

Why are you changing schedule? Why are you avoiding Ramshackle? Is someone bothering you?

Malleus takes action into his own hands and asks Sebek to once again get information out of you by being your friend.

Sebek takes his orders seriously and soon enough he’s offering to let his master, the great Malleus, protect you from this creep.

You cry into his arms and thank him.

By next week, you’re heading to Diasomnia to see Malleus, your supposed new protector.

When you arrive at Diasomnia, you’re greeted by Sebek, Malleus, Sebek’s friend Silver, and some short guy named Lilia.

Malleus bends down to kiss your hand, and you’re blushing.

Malleus is sweet and welcoming. He shares your common interests, and even knows how to take care of Grim.

But the protection he gives you is worth even more. You can finally be free of that creep following you.

Just as you’re leaving Diasomnia, you hear Lilia and Silver arguing. You know you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t resist when Lilia said “it’s my fault he’s like this.”

You press your ear against the door and hear the rest of the conversation.

🗡️ “It’s not your fault, father! Malleus is misguided by his emotions and extreme obsession for 🦐.”

🦇 “It is my fault. When I found out Malleus liked the Ramshackle prefect, I said to find out what she likes and what her hobbies are. I should’ve been more clearer, now we’re in this mess. The least we could do is warn the Ramshackle prefect.”

🗡️ “Agreed.”

As they open the door, you’re hiding behind a wall. It all makes sense now. Of course malleus was stalking you. Who else could float to a second story window? Who else would clean the gargoyles on Ramshackle? M is Malleus.

You run down the hall and push open a big black door that you think is the exit. Instead you’ve entered the dragon’s nest.

Pictures of you are hanging on the wall

Old clothes that haven’t been washed are crumbled next to Malleus’s pillow.

There’s a couple of hair strands on some sort of doll in the corner.

But the final straw was a necklace, similar to the amulet, but green on Malleus’s nightstand.

You turn to leave but run into the green dragon devil himself.

You fall to the floor, and Malleus’s tall stature makes him seem like a giant while you’re on the ground.

🐉“So now that you’ve found out I’m your secret admirer, I should probably do something with you.”

You walk out of Diasomnia with the necklace on you and a stalker for a boyfriend.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #malleus draconia #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus x yuu #stalker malleus #yandere twst #Yandere twst headcanons #it sort of became a one shot towards the middle #twst sebek #yandere x reader

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myfictionaldreams · 11 months

Text

Family // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sirius Black, the usually happy prankster within Hogwarts, had a special skill for hiding his emotions. Until one day, he's forced to face the realities of the troubles with his family.

Requested by: @bullets-from-another-dimension Thank you so much for the request and for showing me that Sirius needs a little more love! I hope you like this fic, and thanks for your support with the poly!marauders ♥

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst (lots!), fluff (also lots!), emotional hurt, discussion of Sirius' abusive family, disowned, crying, hugs/kissing, polyamory relationship, nipple play, body worship, making out, oral sex (m receiving), happy ending

A/N: This is just a little PSA that I'll be going through my other Poly!Marauders fics sometime soon to change some bits to make sure that each of the boys is getting enough love! It won't be anything major for the overall story, just spreading the love equally as it appears Sirius may have been skipped a few times (and I don't want that!), so check for an 'edited' note on the story. Thank you for pointing this out to me!

Words: 4.8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The last 24 hours had been an emotional rollercoaster, with both positives and negatives coming to light. It had started with the ultimate showdown game of Quidditch between Slytherin and Gryffindor; with both Sirius and James on the team. You and Remus had been nervous wrecks just for the game, let alone all the tension drowning within the two enemy houses. This escalated outside of the pitch, with wands having to remain in hands between lessons to prepare for sabotage attacks from either team.

It was endlessly tiring the days leading up to the events, and it was some kind of a miracle to be standing in the Gryffindors' stands without a single injury. Now, however, you and Remus had to live through the fear of watching your boyfriends fly around with their roles as Seeker and Beater.

You were sure you’d accidentally bitten your nail down to the cuticle by the end of the match, and your throat felt as if you’d swallowed sandpaper with how sore it was with the screaming and shouting you’d been doing in support. There was instant relief as James finally caught the snitch, and everyone cheered.

“Do you think he’ll be ok?” you shout up to Remus, who, with his height difference, could see over the crowd to where the commotion was occurring on the pitch. As James had dived for the snitch, so had the Slytherin’s seeker, who just happened to be Sirius’ brother, Regulus. However, in mid-dive, Regulus accidentally knocked into one of the goalposts, hitting his head and falling from his broom. Thankfully to the Slytherins, Sirius had been close by and caught his falling brother from gaining any further injuries.

Remus was nodding to your question, “Yes, he’s walking away, well - he’s pushing Sirius away, so I’m sure he’s just fine”, he explained, watching Regulus shove Sirius, so the man stumbled away. A pang of guilt settled heavily in your stomach at the thought of the brothers arguing. You knew that the relationship between Sirius and his brother was non-existent these days, and it only made you feel more awful for your boyfriend, understanding how difficult it must have been to lose his family in the way he has.

You couldn’t ponder on these thoughts as the entirety of Gryffindor and the vast majority of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff began celebrating the win. This included Sirius, who scooped you into an exaggerated hug, spun you high into the air, and carefully placed your feet back onto the floor.

“Was your brother alright?” You shout to Sirius over the noisy crowd forming around the winning team. For a split second, you witness sadness filling his grey eyes before he snaps out of it and a beaming smile replacing the momentary lapse in his emotions.

“Oh, he’s fine; I’m sure a quick knock to the head will bring some sense to him. Anyway, come on, let’s all go back to the common room; I have a special surprise for everyone”. Sirius was great at many things, and covering his emotions was one of them. Any attempts to open up about the situation regarding his family would change the subject within the blink of an eye. You respected that he didn’t want to talk about any of his family members, but you still kept a close eye on him, making sure that he didn’t pent up his emotions until he was at breaking point, which you feared would occur one day as there was only so much one person could go through.

The interaction with Regulus seemed to have been forgotten in the madness of celebrating, which ran into the early morning hours in the Gryffindor common room. It would have continued later, but Professor McGonagall arrived in her dressing gown and demanded everyone go to bed. Sirius needed the most help to bed, having drunk the ‘surprise’ fire whiskey he regretted deeply in the morning.

“I’m never drinking again. Who’s idea was it anyway to bring Firewhiskey?!” came the deep groan of the man lying face first beside you, his face thoroughly buried into the pillow. Your temples were pounding slightly; you’d felt worse hangovers, but it was still uncomfortable as you rolled over towards Sirius.

Your arm wrapped over his naked back, face pressed over his shoulder blade as you could feel the toned muscles adjusting to your presence as you melted into his warmth. “It was your idea. I’m never falling for your charms ever again, Sirius”, you mumbled against his skin, reminiscing on his sweet talking skills from last night that convinced you to have a drinking competition with him.

This pulled him out of the half-unconscious state as his mop of hair turned in your direction. The movement caused you to roll off him and witness the beautiful sight of his morning glow; even in his hangover, he was handsome with one eye squished closed as the room was too bright.

Sirius turned his body entirely towards you, huffing as he moved, and you refrained from trying to reach out and control the usually silky locks of hair that were now all knotted and tangled on the top of his head. “Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure my charms made you cum three times before the fire whiskey joined the party,” he commented confidently and admired the warmth that filled your face. You attempted to hide your smile at the memories but were soon fully scream-laughing as Sirius tried to break your facade by tickling your sides.

Pushing him away, you turned and nuzzled into the naked chest of James, who remained asleep even through your loud laughter, but his arms still wrapped around your shoulders protectively. Besides James, you could see Remus was awake, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Remusssss, Sirius is being mean to me”, you drawl childishly.

The man sighed, dropping his hands to give you and Sirius a pointed look, “Please, children, it’s too early, and my head is too painful for you to make this much noise”.

Sirius smirked as he spooned in close behind you, wrapping his arm around you and James as everyone tried to have a few more moments of beautiful sleep before breakfast, and class pulled the four of you from the safety of the bed.

The food helped to settle the hangovers that the majority of Gryffindor seemed to be nursing this morning, much to the displeasure of McGonagall, who was glaring at her house from the Professor’s table. Sitting beside James, you leaned across him for another slice of toast as Sirius sat opposite you with Remus next to him.

As everyone started to be rejuvenated with energy from the breakfast, the owls began to swoop in and deliver the mail for the day. An emerald-coloured envelope landed on Sirius's lap, which caught the attention of you and the fellow Marauders. You already had your suspicions about who the letter was from. Sirius mostly confirmed it, as he had hardly read the letter before shoving it into his bag and brushing off any attempts at discussing who it was from.

“It’s nothing, just some spam letter. So, who do we have first today? Is it transfiguration? I can’t imagine that will be fun with how angry McGonagall looks right now.” Sirius changed the subject, but it didn’t convince any of you as you eyed him sadly. He didn’t wait for a response as he stood, gripping his bag so tight that his knuckles turned white. “Come on, otherwise we’ll be late”.

You knew something was off just by the quipped tone of his voice, and the humour and light that always seemed to dance in his eyes had been significantly dimmed. Even as James tried to humour him with his usual party tricks and jokes, it only earned him a half-assed chuckle from Sirius. Remus even attempted to pull him aside before entering the classroom to see if he needed a moment alone to talk, but Sirius just distracted him with a quick kiss and said he was fine.

You were quick to sit next to Sirius near the back of the classroom, smiling brightly with the hopes that he would return it, but it seemed he was lost in his thoughts as he idly arranged his parchment paper and quills. Thankfully, as the class began, his hand rested on your thigh so you could link both fingers together, lifting it and kissing the back of his hand.

As McGonagall began to teach the class, you leaned closer to Sirius, savouring the warmth that radiated off him and smelling the citrusy scent from his aftershave. “Is everyone ok, Sirius?” Your voice was barely audible so as not to disrupt the class, but you knew he heard as his posture stiffened, and he nodded his head, fake smiling for a second before returning his attention to the teacher. “I know there’s something wrong. Talking might help; I mean - I want to help-”

“Excuse me at the back. Is there something more important than my lesson?” McGonagall demanded with a passive-aggressive raised eyebrow as all other eyes turned to look at you and Sirius.

As your mouth opened to take the blame, your boyfriend beat you to it, “Sorry, Professor. That was my fault I was distracting her”.

“You’re already on thin ice after last night's antics, Mr Black. See me after class to arrange a detention”.

Your mouth drops open to retort to her and tell him it wasn’t Sirius, but the hand holding yours squeezes, stopping you from saying anything. As McGonagall turns back to write on the chalkboard, you lean close to harshly whisper, “You didn’t have to do that, Sirius! That should have been my detention!”

“It’s only one detention, I don’t care”, he shrugs nonchalantly, releasing your hand to begin writing his notes. You frown so deeply that a line forms between your eyebrows as you glance towards Remus and James, who have similar expressions of worry, especially as Sirius hasn’t even attempted to have any sort of friendly banter with McGonagall like he usually did.

At lunch, Sirius had somehow managed to slip away from the group, and your head seemed to be fixated towards the entrance to the Great Hall, neck straining to see over the other students as you waited for him to walk in.

“I mean, it’s not just me, right? There’s definitely something wrong with him”, you say before nervously nibbling on your lower lip.

Remus’ hand cups your shoulder, gripping gently as he agrees, “It’s not just you. I tried to talk to him before the lesson, but he just pushed me away. He just wants to be by himself; I’m sure he’ll be just fine”.

You nod to yourself but don’t believe his words. Yes, Sirius was strong and had been putting on a strong appearance for years, but he never pushed himself away from the three of you. It was like an invisible angel on your shoulder, trying to nudge you towards him, knowing something wasn’t right.

“Have either of you got the Marauder's map?” you ask Remus and James, who then check their pockets and school bags but cannot find the map.

“Sorry, Love, he’s probably got it with him”, James reports, appearing as deflated as you felt.

Standing from the table, the anxious causing your stomach to clench with unease and unable to eat, you inform the two of them, “I’ll be back later; I just need to make sure he’s ok and safe”.

Remus and James nod in understanding and watch you go. As you stand in the entrance to the Great Hall, you’re unsure where to start and what's worse is that he could be in his Padfoot form, which means he’d be able to hear you coming and run away. There were the grounds to search, Hogsmeade, the entirety of the enormous castle; there were plenty of places for him to be.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you decided to search the dormitory first, hoping the map had been left in a draw up there.

Opening the door to the dormitory room that you shared with your boyfriends, you were welcomed to the sight of Sirius, lying face first on the shared bed, his head turned away from the doors but from the noticeable sniffling noises and his shoulders shaking, you knew he was crying. Your heart felt like someone had reached inside your chest and squeezed as the sight rocked you. Silently as you could, you slipped your shoes off and placed your school bag onto the floor.

You knew he was aware someone else was in the room as his cries softened, and he subtly tried to wipe his face into the pillow. As you began to crawl onto the bed, you could see he was spooning the pillow you usually used to sleep on, clutching it desperately close to his chest. You had to remember to breathe through your nose, remain strong, and not descend into your emotions.

Kneeling next to him, your hand gently met the centre of his back, rubbing slow, comforting circles into his white shirt, hoping the action would comfort him. “Sirius, what’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing's wrong” he tried to brush it off, but you could hear the thickness of his voice as he tried to hide his face further in the pillow beneath his head.

“Is it about the letter from earlier? Who sent it to you?” Even though you knew he didn’t really want to talk about it, you knew he’d also built a wall around his emotions and wanted him to feel like he was in a safe enough space to talk, like the many times he’d done the same for you. Reaching over with your other hand, you ran your fingers through the long strands of dark hair, brushing them out of his face that was still turned away from you. “Talk to me, my love, please. I want to help you”.

Reluctantly, Sirius turned over and began to pull you down to lie in the centre of the bed. You did so and spread your arms wide as he moved to lie on your chest, the top of his head resting beneath your chin as you hugged him closely.

“No one important sent me the letter, it’s fine. I just want to cuddle”, he admits with a sigh, relaxing into the hold, the pillow he’d been spooning now forgotten about as he had the real thing instead, finding comfort instantly. In this position, you could hold him close and do the same actions as before, stroking gently up and down his back whilst also playing with his hair.

You want to tell him that you knew who the letter was from, but he seemed content with being held instead for a couple of minutes until you felt dampness seeping across the column of your neck and down your chest as his shoulders began to shake once more.

“Sirius-?”

“It was from my parents. The letter, I mean. Fuck! I don’t know, it's so stupid.” he sits up abruptly, aggressively wiping away the leaked tears he’d been desperately trying to stop.

Sitting beside him, you rubbed his shoulders while trying to calm him down from his overwhelming emotions. “It’s not stupid, my love.” As you talk, you grip his twists to pull them away so he can look into your face and hopefully see the love there. “Your parents, they’re awful people, Sirius, and anyway, you’re perfectly within your right to show emotions every once in a while; I just need you to know that I’m here for you, we’re all here for you, no matter how you are feeling. It’ll be ok”.

Even though it was comforting for him to hear the words, it still seemed to break something within him. Like a crack had formed in the dam as he relented with his cries, openly sobbing into his hands. Whilst trying to swallow the lump that had developed in your throat, you pulled him close, kissing every part of him that you could reach whilst wiping away the cascading tears.

“You don’t have to tell me what was said in the letter, but I just need you to know that they’re not your real family; you know we’re all your family”. Sirius pulls back from the hug, and your bottom lip trembles at seeing how heartbroken he looks. The area around his eyes is swollen and red to match the shade at the tip of his nose as wetness covers the length of his cheeks.

His mouth opens to say something, but he’s interrupted by the door opening and James and Remus stepping into the bedroom. The two men pause, not expecting to find either you or Sirius here, but as they see the sadness and pain on Sirius’s face, they immediately drop their school bags.

“You missed it”, Sirius chuckled, trying to hide his upset behind humour, “She called me an emotional prick, and the waterworks started”. James and Remus gave him sad smiles, but neither fell for the attempt to change the subject as both sat either side of him on the bed. Remus reached for him first, stroking his scarred fingers through the strands of dark hair that had fallen over Sirius’ face, but only so he could kiss the area beneath. Sirius closed his eyes at the touch and leaned into it, releasing a deep sigh through his open mouth.

James grabbed each of his hands, lifting them to his lips to kiss the palms lovingly and rest them on either side of his cheeks, nuzzling into his hands. “Whatever is going on, you know we’re always here for you, Sirius”, James mutters against the palms on his face.

Sirius sighs even heavier as if trying to will the anxiety away through the breaths. “It’s my parents. I mean, should I even call them parents when they’ve already disowned me? But they’ve just sent me more threats today after what happened with Regulus yesterday. They say things like I should have let him win and wish that I had been hurt.”

He takes a moment to compose himself as you grab one of his hands from James, needing to link your fingers together and squeeze to know that it is a safe place for him to continue and talk. Sirius looked into his lap as he spoke, “They’ve burnt my face off the Black family tree. Not that I care; I expected it, but it just all feels so real now, you know? I feel like I shouldn’t even be using the surname Black with how much they detest me. I also kind of expected Regulus to have my back a little bit, but he’s young; I can’t expect that from him, especially as I know what my parents are like, but he doesn’t even say hi to me in the corridors anymore. I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little all over the place, and with the positivity yesterday, just to have my family metaphorically kick me to the curb again, I should have expected the joy wouldn’t last long”.

Sirius sounded empty and emotionless as he expressed how he was genuinely feeling, struggling to come to terms with the repercussions of the events that occurred with his family that continue to affect him.

“Fuck them”, James says with all the venom and confidence that he could muster. Sirius grunts half-heartedly at the declaration, not seemingly convinced, so James turns his face towards him so that he is looking into the stormy hazel eyes. “I’m being serious, fuck them. You’ve been my family for years now; you know my parents consider you their son as much as I am. Nothing has changed. You live with me and my parents because that is your home. Wherever any of us go is your home because we love you. We wouldn’t make you feel half as rotten as those scumbags, do you understand?”

Sirius nods, swallowing thickly, causing his Adam’s apple to bob. Before he can respond, Remus once again holds onto his face, turning him in the other direction to look at the calmest Marauder. “Sirius, next time you receive a letter from them, don’t open it. They are cruel humans who have no love for anyone but themselves and the prejudices that they live by. You had so much joy and love in your heart; don’t let them destroy you and ruin everything you cherish. And that is exactly what James has said. You’re our family. We’re each other's family. You’re ours, just like you’re mine. Get it?”

Sirius’ eyes have dried as he looks up at Remus, and briefly, a genuine smile welcomes across his face as he leans in to kiss him deeply but then pulls back.

Squeezing his hand, you draw his attention towards you. “You deserve the surname Black more than anyone because it’s what makes you, you—breaking the stereotypes of those evil people and making it mean something that doesn't symbolise hatred. However, if you want to have another surname, you can! Sirius, you’re your own person, and your surname doesn’t define you. You could even make up a whole new name! Maybe you could have one of our surnames”, Sirius laughs at the possibility of a name change. “I love you so much. Your family's opinions of you aren’t how anyone else in the castle sees you. You’re perfect the way you are, Mr Black”.

You couldn’t wait any more time to kiss him, needing to feel his lips against yours and reassure him further with these intimate touches. Thankfully, to your pounding heart, he smiles into the kiss.

“Maybe we could put all of our surnames together”, he jokes as you move to kiss each of his cheeks.

“If that’s what you want, I’d do it”, you reassure him with a kiss on his temple.

“Almost sounds like a proposal”, he casually mentions, causing your heartbeat to increase rapidly. Sirius smirks at your face but reassures, “Maybe we’ll sort out surnames once we’ve finished our exams”. You press your lips against his once more for reassurance until he looks between the three of you. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do if it weren’t for you three. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed before coming to Hogwarts, let alone feel love like this”.

Remus could see the tears pooling along Sirius’ lashline, so he gently cupped the side of his head, wiping away any that fell. “No more tears for them”. The gap between their lips was closed as Remus kissed him passionately, holding the back of his head carefully as they breathed each other in.

Sirius’ head dips slightly, but only to whisper against the man’s lips, “Can you make me forget? Please?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do, Sirius”. Remus kisses him again but with more urgency, pushing his body back until Sirius is lying in the centre of the bed with the taller Marauder hovering above him. Their mouths moved together as one, tongues twirling together, heads tilting one way and then the other.

As Remus distracts and devours him with his mouth, Sirius’ hands move around the back of his head, holding him close, which gives James the freedom to move his hands to Sirius’ shirt. With a simple flick of his fingers, James could undo the buttons down the centre of his chest, releasing the toned chest and abdomen of the man whose legs you were sitting between.

You watched with the sadness seeping away and becoming replaced with arousal as James leaned over and licked the nipples of the man who moaned into Remus’ mouth. James was calculated with his movements, making sure to leave teasing licks and bites over the areas that Sirius was most sensitive whilst then worshipping the perked nipples on his chest, his hands caressing the areas where fine dark hair was beginning to grow back from being previous shaved, mainly the snail trail leading beneath his trousers.

Smiling whilst watching them all move together, you were gifted the view of watching the tightness forming in his trousers as his cock grew hard and thick. Without any rush and admiring the desperate moans coming from the man on his back, you began to stroke up his thighs, over his crotch and pausing over his zipper.

Undoing it slowly, you waited to see if Sirius was even aware of what you were doing as he was so distracted with James and Remus. However, with the sudden lift of his hips to help you pull the material down his hips, you knew he was very much aware of your intentions.

Freeing his cock from the restraint of his trousers and boxers, you watched as Sirius lowered his hips back onto the bed, and his member now throbbed on his abdomen, thick and hard. A pearly drip of precum had already formed at the tip, and you were quick to hold the base, lifting the cock until your lips were wrapped around him.

Your movements continue to be gentle and soft. Licking and sucking without any rush to build the tension and hopefully show how much you worship the ground he walks on by paying particular attention to him when he needs it most. James continues to tweak his nipples, and Remus devours his mouth, absorbing every little moan until Sirius needs to pull back to suck in air.

“Fuck, you’re all- Fuck!” Remus distracts him with his mouth once more, dominating him entirely and causing more whimpers to burst from his chest. The veiny length that was being leisurely sucked in your mouth began to harden further, throbbing as you knew he was approaching closer to his orgasm as your hands fondled his balls.

“So good for us, aren’t you, Sirius? Say it, tell us you’re ours”, James demands, pulling on the back of Remus’ hair so that Sirius can tell the group how he is feeling.

“Yes! I’m yours, I’m all of yours! I’m cumming, holy shit!” he shouts out desperately, face scrunching up like he is in pain but is actually experiencing the opposite as overwhelming pleasure pooled in his abdomen.

You moan around his cock, causing it to vibrate slightly against your tongue as his hot seed begins to coat your throat. You swallow every salty, thick liquid drop until you’re popping off and looking up at his half-lidded, satisfied grin.

James and Remus give you room to crawl up his body to kiss him sweetly. The three of you watch and admire as he comes down from the high, carefully tucking his half-hard cock back into his trousers and doing up the zipper once more.

“Thank Merlin that we have no classes this afternoon”, Sirius jokes as he rests back on the pillows with his arm behind his head. You laugh and collapse onto his chest, hugging him closely as the four of you sit in comfortable silence. You listened to the thump of his heart beneath your ear, but after a while, it increased in speed as he became restless.

“Can I tell you all a secret? I’ve um… I’ve kept all of the threatening letters they’ve sent to me, " Sirius admits as he carefully pulls out of the hug to climb out of bed and dig his way through the suitcase with his name on the side. From within, he pulls out a large stack of letters that are all opened and in the same shade of emerald as the one earlier this morning.

“You kept them all? Oh, Sirius”, you say in shock, only guessing what horrible, hateful words are written on those pieces of paper.

Sirius awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed, “Yeah. I don’t know why. Some weird part of me thought that if I burned them all, they would know and come to the school or something. But, I want to get rid of them if you’ll all help me?”

Neither of you have to answer as you climb out of the bed. After dressing appropriately, the four of you walked down to the lake, where Remus carved a hole into the soil. Sirius chucks the letters within as you all form a semi-circle.

Holding onto his left hand, Sirius raised his wand to the right, pointing it towards the letters and shouting ‘Incendio’. The four of you stand together as the letters burn. Sirius sighs shakily as he holds back tears. “It’s weird. I know people say it’s like a weight off your shoulders, but it genuinely does feel like that”.

“That’s because you’re free, Padfoot!” James shouts enthusiastically, grabbing the boy around the waist and lifting him into the air, hollering and whooping until Sirius laughs. The two crash to the ground as Remus throws his arm around your shoulders, watching the pair finally have some fun today as the smoke billows into the air surrounding you, the ash from those horrible words written on the paper disappearing across the Scottish mountains.

#poly!marauders #marauders x reader #marauders smut #james potter x reader #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black one shot #remus lupin x reader #hp smut #sirius black fluff #mine*#the marauders

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sillygoose067 · 14 days

Text

Charles's Angel(s)

Ch. 49

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Author’s Note: Because a wise teacher of mine once said, “you can’t marry someone unless you’re able to go through ups and downs thinking that it’s the problem vs. the both of you, not one person vs. the other”. Honestly, she spit some MAD bars right there. Happy reading!

The moment Charles laid eyes on the adorable, golden dachshund, he knew that the puppy was meant to belong with him in his home. He’d always wanted a dog as a kid and even had one for a while, but his old companion had, unfortunately, not made it as long as Charles.

He named the tiny puppy Leo, like the fiercest little lion. But as Charles stepped into the apartment with Leo in his arms, his heart began to increase pace in trepidation. What if you didn’t like dogs? What if you were allergic? The two of you had never talked about pets.

Well, what’s done is done, he thought. Better to just face the music.

“Charles?” you ask from your studio.

“Heeeeyyy Y/n. What’s up?”

His uncharacteristically evasive greeting, along with the lilt in his voice, brought you out of the room. As soon as you lay eyes on the tiny puppy cuddling into his arms, they widen to the size of saucers.

“Is that—is that a puppy?!”

Your boyfriend just looks at you guiltily. “I’m sorry… He was just so cute, Cherie and I–”

“No no no no no. You don’t need to explain to me, but Charles, we never talked about pets... and where would we even put him? And we need to get him stuff... I don’t know what to do!” Somehow, this escalates into an argument. Your first fight since getting together. Sure, it took a while, but you knew that the honeymoon period couldn’t possibly last as long as it had so far.

Exasperated, you head back into the room, unable to listen to Charles’ defensive arguments. “You know what? I’m just gonna head out for a bit. Don’t call me. I’ll be at Marie’s, so you don’t have to worry about me, but don’t come after me. I just– I need to think about things and cool off.” You hastily throw a couple clothes into your overnight bag. You stop in front of him before you head out the door. “You know I love you, right? I just need some time to myself to sort this out. Stay safe,” and then the door slams shut behind you.

Well, Charles thinks, looking down at the still snoozing puppy in his arms. That was definitely the worst possible outcome.

…

As it turned out, even with a new member in the house, Charles found himself feeling awfully lonely. There was a piece of you everywhere he looked. He knew he was overreacting and that you’d implied you’d be back soon. But soon wasn’t soon enough.

The windows were thrown open wide in the hope of tempting in a nonexistent breeze. The normally warm evening sunlight filtered through the windows instead, and Charles felt like he was suffocating in the confines of his own home. He blamed the heat of the sunlight, but he knew that it was from the overwhelming silence from your presence, or lack thereof.

With a sigh, he dials his mother’s number. “Maman?”

"Herve, my son, what’s wrong? You usually don’t call during this time of day.”

“Maman, I messed up.” He feels a sob crawl up his throat as he sets the phone on the island counter and digs his palms into his eye sockets. He explains the situation between sniffles while Pascale listens intently.

“Herve, you know you should have discussed this kind of decision with Y/n first. Your father and I always decided on matters that had to do with the house and our family together. I’m not saying that this is entirely your fault, but you must realize that the girl spends a lot of her time without you around, and she’s just as busy as you. Who will take care of Leo when you’re not around? Who will take care of Leo when she’s busy? What if she’s never had a dog before? These kinds of things need to be discussed. Perhaps you should have taken the time to sit down and talk. And from what I understand, you’ve been planning on getting a pet for a while now.”

“Yes, Maman. I see these things now, but how do I fix this?”

“Sweetheart, you can’t fix this. Let her take some time for herself, and she’ll come back to you when things have cooled down. Just approach the matter slowly and discuss Leo then. Until then, just... manage on your own.”

“Okay, Maman,” he sighs with resignation.

…

At Marie's, you consult your friend’s advice, knowing there’s no way around telling her, especially since you arrived on her doorstep without warning.

When night falls, you find yourself missing the warmth of Charle’s body against yours. You lay in bed, wishing sleep would come. However, this leaves you plenty of time to reflect on the situation. You decide that you’ll return tomorrow afternoon and talk with a cooled head on your shoulders.

…

When Charles steps into the apartment the next afternoon, back from the grocery store, he doesn’t expect to see you sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping warm tea from your mug. The bags fall to the ground, catching your attention.

“I think I’m ready to talk now," you murmur over the lip of your mug, eyes cast down and unable to meet your boyfriend’s gaze.

He shuffles to the counter nervously and takes a seat on the stool on the opposite side.

“Growing up, I always wanted a dog, or cat. But my mom was deathly scared of dogs, and she said that getting furry pets was too much of a commitment. So I would stop to pet the neighbors’ dogs at the park, but that was about the most interaction I had with dogs.” You stop, placing the mug down, and begin picking at some nonexistent lint on your pants, still refusing to meet Charles’ gaze. “When you walked in with the puppy—”

“Leo.”

You raise your eyes to him for a split second. “When you walked in with Leo yesterday, I panicked. My mom always threatened me with ‘you can either choose me or the dog,’ and when I saw Leo yesterday, I just realized that I’m not properly equipped to raise a puppy with the limited number of interactions I’ve had with dogs, much less puppies.” You finally look him in the eye. “I wasn’t mad at you for bringing him—Leo—home. I was mad at myself for not knowing how to take care of pets. I just realized that I don’t even know what dogs eat, what kinds of toys puppies need, or how to train them if they even need training—just anything.” Your voice breaks, and you look away to the side. You’d never liked others to witness you crying.

You hear the screech of the stool moving and feel a familiar warmth engulf you. A tender kiss on your hair.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t discuss getting a pet with you before. I… I had been planning to get one for the past few weeks, and I hadn’t even thought about consulting you. So as much as you feel guilty about this, I am at fault. I’m sorry.” Charles mutters into your hair. “And I’m sorry that because of that, I made you feel helpless. I know how much you hate feeling like that. It won’t happen again.”

He lifts your face with his strong, calloused hands, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “Forgive me?”

You sniffle, holding back a full-on sob. “Charles, there’s nothing to forgive.”

“Then are we okay?”

You nod. “We’ve always been okay.” You twiddle your fingers in your lap. “Can I meet him? Leo?”

This brings a smile to your boyfriend’s face. “You never need to ask to meet your own son, Cherie.”

You follow him into a corner of the room where he’d set up comfy sleeping quarters for the puppy. The tiny Dachshund bounds out energetically into your lap, licking away your tears as you giggled.

“Leo~ That’s your mommy; yes, that’s right. We need to make sure Mommy doesn’t cry, okay?”

You set him down and cuddled into Charles on the chaise, watching as your new puppy, your furball of a son, ran circles on the living room floor.

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