#i had resigned to never seeing it again
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Yeah so actually, turns outs, the best feeling is finding a really good fic that hasn't been updated in like six months, subscribing to it, then two days later waking up to a notification saying it updated.
#we're going to have a good day#a great caitvi omegaverse ta/professor au thats basically just smut?#iconic#love that for us#11 chapters besties#i had resigned to never seeing it again#and here she is two days later walking in with a heat chapter#theres a lot of pretty wild caitvi omegaverse fics im finding out recently#a lot of really good ones and also a bunch that are like. uhhh hm. maybe no thanks actually#anyway jyst woke up#time to go write some freezerburn#don't mind me
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salvaged from the office fire in 1998
#my art#the x files#dana scully#fox mulder#alex krycek#i was talking about this on twitter yesterday but#i have a LOTTTTTT a lot of thought about this part of season two#mainly because i think that while scully probably realized she was never going to find peace ever again after emily#i do believe that the last time mulder ever thought everything would be okay was right before scully’s abduction#which is also kind of why i think mulder was closer to killing himself in ascension than in gethsemane#at the end of season four mulder is kind of resigned to his and scully’s lives unravelling#he’s more suspicious and slower to trust then he ever was#while ascension was the first time he was like. Oh okay. It’s over for us forever and ever#and the fact that he was still open and still kind of okay before that just kind of makes it worse#that he was just betrayed and left hanging and lost everyone he thought he had in one fell swoop#ascension jades the fuck out of him and you can see it. like through the whole series there are threads of it#his tendency to rely on skinner regresses for a while. he becomes even less functional when scully is gone.#he has far less patience for his informants and he refuses to rely on anyone the way he tried to on krycek#like it’s just. such an obvious shift in his character that you can tell his mindset about his and scully’s life has changed#and that’s a huge part of the show’s tragedy i think. there is no peace. there is no rest. it’s never going to be okay
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im thinking. If guillermo had told nandor the truth immediately after he was turned, it wouldn’t have been so bad. If guillermo had actually left nandor after he got turned, it would’ve been ok too. But guillermo got turned by someone else. Guillermo told everyone in the house about it except for nandor. And guillermo stayed. Now that…that has to be the most painful part of this whole thing to nandor. Not guillermo getting turned by someone else. But guillermo staying at the house but avoiding just nandor and lying to his face everyday.
#nandor was actually resigned to never see guillermo again#he wasn’t even mad at him when he assumed guillermo had run away#but guillermo stayed#im not sure if i could convey this well but#the fact that guillermo stayed and still kept this from nandor must be what hurts the most#wwdits#nandor the relentless#wwdits spoilers#nandermo#what we do in the shadows#guillermo de la cruz
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Hiii just popping out to say thank you for feeding my sagau reader x furina brainroot by small interactions in "Even the Gods bleed." (Sorry if I wrote it incorrectly, I didn't get proper sleep.)
They way reader tugged at Furina's cheek— hell yeah your Grace I understand you.
i am always down to feed other furina enjoyers. at some point i need to give furi her own solo fic with reader but i know im gonna make it like triple the length of everything else..favoritism at its finest!! and proud of it. furina gets priority in everything.
#asks#anon#stares at my pending package. i bought a $55 furina plush i am Dedicated#if no one else got me i know i do. self indulgent furina/reader is my new specialty#i think abt pre/post archon quest furina all the time like#pre aq shes still very bubbly and dramatic but internally her anxiety is 10x WORSE bc now she has to compete#with ACTUAL archons on earning your favor and shes probably had 16 breakdowns in the span of 3 days over it#please give her a hug and reassure her she is like a cat w seperation anxiety sitting at the door waiting for u to come home#post aq shes a lot more mellowed out but also. once again. worse!!!!#because now she cant even say shes the hydro archon and have an excuse to be allowed to see you whenever she wants#shes just. a human now. so she kinda resigns herself to just never getting to see you again except maybe in passing#once again Please Give Her A Hug SHE DESERVES IT 💔#sorry i ranted too much um. runs.#never ask me abt furina sagau i think abt it too much#dont know if ill be continuing the series unfortunately so no more furina on that front uhh. oops.
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my brother can make me laugh without moving at all. he can make me laugh on command, just by existing, and there is no physical tell or indication that it is about to happen. it’s like he can will me to laugh and i will. of course we’re not telepathic, but we do speak in unison sometimes. we improvise like no one’s business. we could fool anyone into believing we are psychically linked. when i try to explain it, i sound silly saying it out loud, but i really CAN tell what he’s thinking. we exchange so much information just with a look. he can make me cry laughing and he doesn’t even have to move
#i miss him so much i need him back i need him to live next to me again. i need to mooch off his wifi from my porch and invite him over#i miss him so much.#he’s only 2 minutes younger but he feels years younger. and yet i think we’re two halves of one soul#i’ve always babied him not even in a mean or diminishing way but i felt this need to protect him#because he tends to be so naive and so shy#but. i am so proud of him. i need to show him off to everyone and i need everyone to understand how funny and charming he is#it feels like i grew up and left him where he will remain 11 forever. i miss him more than moving back home can fix#i miss him in ways that have nothing to do with the distance between our locations#but. it would certainly help to be able to see him every day#i keep smelling the carpet in his room and it’s so vivid. i remember the countless hours we spent developing huge wood block cities#and we would drive hot wheels over the wooden raceways we had made. we were actually quite coordinated and autistic about it#we were always building things together#just recently me and him talked on the phone about an old mlp au we came up with. all original characters and shit#it was super extensive and very clever#i STILL think it would make a really cool book series or something#i remember watching him play army men RTS gamecube on the wii. i STILL listen to the soundtrack to that game like…. daily#i remember walking into my room once where he was watching a show. and he was crying#and he NEVER cries over tv#but he was crying because his favorite character had resigned from the organization that the series was based around#and he was so distraught that she was leaving.#i remember when all 3 of us slept in one room. i remember when me and him were in bunk beds across the room#and we would sneak out of bed right as the parents left and stayed up playing by the light of the nightlight#the way we raced back into bed when the parents were approaching 😭#my mom always says she’s sad that i seem to remember so little of my life. like every story of my youth is news to me lmao#but i feel like i remember the most important parts? i think so#i remember how mom woke me up in the night to ask me to roll over because my bro could see my face from where he was sleeping#and he was scared because there was a weird shadow cast on my face that made it look like a skull which was making it hard for him to sleep#it was. so funny. i begrudgingly rolled over#i don’t know. it’s just that there isn’t a single instance i bring up that my brother does not also remember.#no matter how tiny or specific. we shared everything growing up
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it's actually so fascinating to me that Brennan has created a character that maintains a pretty relaxed and mild-mannered demeanor and has said multiple times that the absolute Core of her is "FEAR" and how often we see this Fear manifest specifically in Avoidance; it really nails a relationship to that mentality where your brain fully Stops recognizing the emotion properly out of like, sheer self-defense from the stress of having to carry it all the time
I think this is also perfectly showcased in the way we tend to see Tula swing so suddenly from 'level and steady' to 'snarling Panic' and then back again - Just because your brain has detached itself from the Conscious Recognition of the emotion doesn't mean it can Actually stop itself from experiencing it. So the Fear is always there and always acting as a stressor, but because of that inability to Identify it there's no way to recognize or address it before that final straw hits and your bodymind jumps Straight into Full Meltdown Mode; but then once again, once you drop even a Little bit below that Peak Terror your brain ceases to process the emotion; it's like the most exhausting form of Poor Object Permanence in the world
And even if Tula is aware of this happening to her, that doesn't really make it any easier to deal with / address. Even if you're able to spot the symptoms Around the emotion -- chest pain, irritation, nausea, whatever -- because the Emotion Itself is basically impossible to find, you can't really Successfully Pin Down what the problem is OR a way to cope with it. If you can't figure out That You Are Anxious, then figuring out What Is Making You Anxious is impossible, which makes Find A Way To Make Peace With That incomprehensible. That's where the Avoidance comes in: you can no longer identify what might be a Dangerous Situation, which means that Anything New has a big potential to be Really Bad in a variety of ways (ranging "I don't Feel Good" to "Fully Lashing Out bc you've entered Fight/Flight and can't get out of it" to "Actual Outside Danger This Time") and that means the Only Way you know how to be Safe is to just Avoid Doing Anything New and Only stick to Familiar Situations, because anything unfamiliar is a monster of a gamble you don't know how to prepare for or cope with
#N posts stuff#one could argue ‘we see tula worry a lot tho’ but that’s bc Worry is an Action that can occur Separately from Recognizing Anxiety#now that I know tumblr will put a hard cap on your tags w/o telling you i'm resigning myself to posting rambling meta in post body#but i'm not happy about it; anyway i love how often life is full of Coincidences bc this is something I've Finally identified in myself#like. This Month. like this is brand new articulation for some of the problems i have in life; again knowing this doesn't help lmao#bc even when you know to look Around the shape of the emotion - like 'oh my face is Snarling rn. i'm probably experiencing Something'#like i said bc you don't know What that something is OR What might have caused it then the only solution you Ever get to come up with#is just 'fully retreat and go calm down somewhere else' which INVARIABLY means that you will wind up in that same situation again#and Still have no idea how to handle it bc you never could figure out what caused it so you don't know how to handle it any better than#'fully retreat and go calm down somewhere else'; so 'be somewhere else' is the ONLY way you can ever think to Help it#which usually invariably turns into 'Just Avoid Fucking Everything just in case'; which doesn't work! bc life doesn't let you do that#so then it's just a cycle of falling into the same pitfalls and feeling miserable all the time; gotta love it :)#if you're like me this also gives you Bad Bad Bad Memory bc your brain will Promptly hide evidence of Scary Situation instinctively#like 3 weeks ago this dude ran a red light and almost t-boned me Full Speed & managed to stop like. maybe 3 feet away.#and i like. Startled Laughed and said 'that was scary' and then within 30 seconds i had Fully Forgotten it happened & only remembered#like 2 days ago. Ha! believe it or not this Does Not Help with 'How can I Address the Problem instead of Avoiding It Entirely?'#dimension 20#d20: stupendous stoats#tula#d20lb
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so tempted to canonise arthur & josephine politically betrothed as children before arthur was sent to the circle
#also makes me insane in helenas worldstate bc of the like what could have beens#and for arthur the drama. the romance. the fairytaleisms#the childhood first love to the circle stealing his future to the resignation he will never have anything like that#to the sudden tantalising hope of seeing her again and the chance the inquisition offers to regain everything#to dismissing his dreams as he realises the true danger of the fight they r in but then working alongside her and#slowly truly falling in love with a real person not just an idea of what he could have had...#idk i think its fun im workshopping#arthur trevelyan
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if i read through my old notes or my old posts from like 3 years ago i’m like. who is that like that person is dead. who even am i anymore like i have lost all sense of self at this point
#honest to god too many pieces of me have died i don’t know who or what i am anymore.#like i can look back on it and be like oh i remember that but i can’t imagine being that person does that make sense#like my current living situation has taken too much from me i’ve had to just dissociate and be a shell of myself just to protect myself#and i think that even if i ever get out of here idk if i can get those parts of me back and that scares me so much like#i don’t want to be stuck like this forever even though i know j most likely will#like i’ve lost every last ounce of hope i ever had by living here i’ve lost everything i’m so jaded now there’s just#nothing anyone can say to me anymore like there’s no amount of inspirational or hopeful like idk messages or meditations or#whatever literally anything i see shit like that and i’m like hm that’s nice but not for me. like i’m just dead set on things never getting#better ever again and i truly believe they wont and i know it’s a protection method like i know i’m just saving myself from getting my#hopes up and crushed and up and down and it’s just happened too many times that i’ve truly in every sense given up#like i’m just resigned to it all bc there’s nothing i can do about anything anyway and i’m not trying to be like oh poor me#like there just truly is nothing i can do my entire life is a rock and a hard place and it just fucking sucks that’s it#i just feel like i’m drowning all the time and just constantly treading water but i can’t ever breathe if u know what i mean
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once again thinking about my post-trimax legato somehow miraculously survives despite everything au and vashgato agenda aka The Worlds Most Miserable Roadtrip
#one of these days ill get back to it#its the fucking. anger and hatred and loathing from legato @ vash#because legato and vashs entire dynamic is fucking#legato has lain down on the tracks. and he doesnt want to be saved. he needs vash to be the train that runs him over.#and then he lives. somehow. he missed his chance to die.#he had no reason to live. his one reason to carry on was for a cause he fully intended to die for and then he couldnt even do that#mirrored by vash. who also went into that confrontation with knives fully intending to not make it out#and now the world is saved! knives failed and now hes gone. and thats a whole fucking thing to unpack for everyone#the fucking anger. the grief. the whole fuckin mess of contradictory emotions that happens as a result of abuse from a family member w vash#fucking Everything wrt legato. the devastation of knowing knives is gone + he failed + legato lived + *vash* lived#the slowwwwwww realization over a long long period of time that legato worshipped the ground knives walked on#but knives only ever regarded legato with like. the same way someone might an ant. a bug. maybe a dog.#legato who only ever wanted to be Seen by knives#and knives who never particularly cared for legato beyond his usefulness#legato who begins following vash because its probably what knives would want + there is truly nothing else on this planet for him.#he has no other reason to live#and vash allowing him out of some sense of pity / resignation + being able to see that theres Nothing left for legato#+ probo some sense of obligation too. of heres another person his brother fucked up. which means hes vash’s responsibility to fix#all the while legato resents vash for living when knives isnt here. resents him for failing to kill him.#resents him for being the only other thing that knives actually cared about + who rejected knives when all legato ever wanted#was knives’ attention#and vash who frankly resents legato too. resents the fact that. of all the people who managed to survive. it was legato and not ww#resents all the shit that legato put him through. all the people he killed all the suffering he inflicted#the two of them looking at each other and the fucking. recognition of the self thru the other#and seeing all the shit they hate about themselves in the other#theres also again the shared grief of them both losing someone incredibly important to them both but who was also responsible for some#abuse to Both of them. unpacking it. working through it. moving forward.#learning How to move forward as a Whole when theyre both two deeply traumatized deeply suicidal fucks who no longer have the singular goals#thatve been their sole reason for existing for the past. many. years. and having to find new reasons to keep living#but most of all. i think they should make out sloppy in the desert thank you goodnight
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two people that matched each others freak | max verstappen
pairing: max verstappen x teammate!reader
summary: max verstappen and y/n l/n love to match each others freak.
liked by, carlossainz, maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 692,028 others!
yourusername: what an unfortunate series of events. first crash kinda nervous 🥰🥰@/carlossainz kill yourself for what you did to me.
view comments below!
user1: LMAO THE CASUAL SELFIE AFTER THAT BIG ASS CRASH ??
user2: carlos deserves way more then a 5 place penalty after that…
user3: no literally ??? y/n is literally BLEEDING !!
maxverstappen1: yeah @/carlossainz. KILL YOURSELF.
user4: you tell ‘em max 🗣️🗣️
user5: queens first crash and it’s not even her fault 😞😞
user6: queens first crash and she almost DIES
user7: carlos hate club reunite !!!
user8: oh let’s not…
user9: to quote y/n: “accidents happen. i know carlos didn’t get into his car with the intention of hurting me. there’s no hard feelings whatsoever.”
carlossainz: IM SO SORRY Y/N.
yourusername: i only take apologies in cash and gift cards xx.
maxverstappen: i only take apologies in cash.
carlossainz: why would i apologize to you?
maxverstappen1: because you almost killed my bestfriend.
carlossainz: do you accept venmo?
user8: max still calling y/n his bestfriend even tho they’ve been dating for two years now is so ??
user9: they were bestfriends for 6 years before that so..
charles_leclerc: give us a big scare there l/n 😬 happy you’re okay!
yourusername: thank you charles ❤️ but because you are carlos teammate, i feel like i am also owed compensation from you as well.
maxverstappen1: yeah leclerc! pay up!!
charles_leclerc: text me the amount 😞
user10: i love how max just goes along with everything y/n says???
user11: we love a man who matches his gfs freak ❤️❤️
liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz, redbullracing, and 720,629 others!
maxverstappen1: thank you to @/charles_leclerc and @/carlossainz for funding our date night 💙
view comments below!
user12: NO WAY
user13: CARLOS AND CHARLES ACTUALLY SENT THEM THE MONEY ???
user14: this is so cute 🥹
user15: yns so pretty 🙁
maxverstappen1: the prettiest 💙💙
user16: i just looked at my bf and sighed
charles_leclerc: ofc!! cute couple 🥰🥰
user17: charles definitely has a favorite couple
user18: y/n, my favorite nerd
user19: max, my favorite nerd lover
user20: perfect couple
user21: i have a theory that y/n and max are so happy together because they genuinely compliment each other so well
user21: they literally clicked as soon as they met, and they have said that “they feel at home” with each other, they can be their true selves when they’re together
user21: conclusion; i’m lonely and i wish i had a relationship like this
carlossainz: you’re welcome ig. am i forgiven now?
yourusername: we’ll see!
liked by 284,029 others!
f1gossip: throwback thursday!!! throwback to when max and y/n broke the internet, by announcing they were both no longer virgins..through cake.
view comments below!
user22: oh yes the good old days
user23: been matching each others freak since DAY ONE
user24: back when ynstappen was still not OFFICIALLY confirmed
user25: you should throwback to when max refused to resign with red bull until they gave y/n a multi-year contract ☺️☺️
user26: this was a CRAZY day for f1
user27: this connected the dots for all the ynstappen shippers because they basically confirmed they lost their virginity to EACHOTHER!!
user28: did we ever find out who’s idea this was?
user29: a couple months ago it was brought up and max spoke: “i know lots of people think it was yns idea..but it was actually mine. i guess i was just tired to hiding our relationship, so i brought it up, and y/n thought it was hilarious.”
user30: my parents ☝️☝️
user31: from teammates, to friends, to bestfriends, to lovers. living my dream.
user32: them.
user33: if they breakup i will genuinely never believe in love ever again.
user34: them becoming bestfriends was so unexpected, but made so much sense.
user35: if it weren’t for the ice cream shop they never would have happened ☹️
user36: pls explain?
user35: this is when y/n and max had just started the season as teammates, max hadnt performed his best at one of the races, coming in at 6th with y/n behind in 7th
user35: after the race, y/n had unexpectedly asked max to go get ice cream with her at a ice cream shop nearby
user35: max, feeling like he didn’t deserve to celebrate in anyway, declined. but y/n persisted, basically pulling him into that ice cream shop
user35: that’s when max said he truly had the time of his life, he felt happy, even though his race went horrible, he said that he has so much fun with yn and that he has never laughed so hard; the start of ynstappen ☹️
liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, landonorris, and 729,624 others!
yourusername: siri, play nasty by tinahe.
view comments below!
maxverstappen1: listening to it right now!
maxverstappen1: oh wow
maxverstappen1: i like this liefde!! 💙💙
maxverstappen1: come to the room so we can listen together!!
yourusername: coming!! 💙💙
landonorris: you are aware you can text privately right?
user36: THE ICE CREAM SHOP PICTURE
user37: he looks so happy 😭😭😭😭
user38: sobs
user39: y/n healing maxs inner child is something i KNEW i needed.
user40: power couple !!!
danielricciardo: i been a nasty girl, i been a nasty girl
user41: i need someone to love me like max loves y/n
landonorris: whos gonna match my freak 😣
user58: ME I WILL PLS LANDO I WILL
user42: the first picture?? 😭😭
user43: omg the second picture. i’m going to throw up with joy. i love you guys.
user44: ynstappen ships used to PRAY for days like these.
liked by, yourusername, redbullracing, danielricciardo, and 829,924 others!
maxverstappen1: i’ll match her freak!!! i will !!!
view comments below!
user45: yes max, we know
user46: i just looked at my boyfriend and sighed
user47: the shirt???
maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo thank you for the shirt :D i love it 💙
user48: i’m totally ready for max to wear that shirt on race day…
yourusername: the perfect photographer 🥰
maxverstappen1: it’s easy when my muse is perfect ☺️☺️
user49: that SHOULD BE ME.
user50: con🥹gra🥹tula🥹tions
user51: no one will ever understand how much i love this couple
user52: we love a man who matches his gfs energy ❗️❗️❗️
user53: so happy for you guys! haha. ha. ha. so happy.
charles_leclerc: beautiful shirt mate!
user54: the way charles and max still don’t follow each other but this is charles every time max post:
user55: oh! such a cute shirt! haha, ha, i’m so lonely.
user56: max could do better
maxverstappen1: kill yourself you worthless piece of garbage
user57: y’all saying you miss mad max but he makes an appearance every time someone says something negative about y/n 😭
. . .
notes: took a small break to enjoy my summer break start!! but i’m back, request are open !!
#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen smau#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x reader#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#f1 social media au#f1#f1 x female driver
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the reason i shared my great-grandmother's story on here a few months ago is not for sympathy or anything, its to illustrate to you just how deeply, deeply anti-Palestinian the idea of zionism is.
i remember my grandmother, the one who watched her mother die in her home, she called us with a plain tone of voice, and she said "she asked to be buried in [her village] but of course the the zionists wouldn't let that happen." the thing that will not leave my head was the way my grandmother said it, the way it just seemed so natural and so obvious to her. my grandmother is *not* a quiet woman, she yells everything she ever says, whether happy or sad but this she said softly. like she was resigned to this, she expected this.
this woman was exiled once from her village, then again from Palestine, then again and again and again and eventually forced to live in poverty in a refugee camp, she knows the 'israeli' state more intimately than anyone i know, she knows what it will and won't allow in its genocidal apparatus and to her it was obvious that they would not respect her mother's body or last wishes. she knew that.
and i always go back to it when i see discussions on here or on twitter or in academia, like you guys (the moderates, the apologists) have never ever spoken to a nakba survivor or a naksa survivor. you don't know just how deeply its affected our families.
so when we ask you to completely reject zionism, when we demand it from allies, we aren't saying this to be stubborn or nonsensical, we're saying it because we know where zionism will lead us. we've been through the "we just want peace" and the "we need to just talk it out" phases already, how can you not think we've been through those phases after 75 years. we've had our meet and greets and our appeals and now we're at literally the worst stage of genocide against our people and you're still insisting on "talking it out" or some variation of it.
the truth of the matter is that we don't have patience for zionism anymore because look where it got us. look where we're at. even soft zionists, you need to stamp those people out from pretending they've got good points, or that you need to build community with them or whatever. we are literally at the worst part of Palestinian history ever, we need to stop pretending there are grey zones to this. Zionist apologists and the like are creating ambiguity that literally gets our families killed under the guise of "complication". I'm sick and tired of watching these same discussions over and over again about how "Israel is a result of antisemitism" when it very much is not. I'm sick of seeing people who know NOTHING about colonization push their own agendas and provide cover for zionists to do whatever they want. Just stop talking about things you don't understand because I promise you, you're directly contributing to the violence you claim to abhor.
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Tempting the Cowboy
Summary: The team has been trying to bring Spencer back to the BAU after he hung up his badge to live on his ranch peacefully. It’s a good thing you’ll do whatever it takes to persuade him, even if the rugged cowboy wants to bend you over in the barn.
warnings: (MDNI, 18+) softdom spence, nipple play, handjob, fingering, female and male oral, semi-public sex
word count: 6k (i had too much fun, okay?)
a/n: This is such a random plot. Cowboy spence seemed so impossible, but then again, so did prison reid and look what happened.
Never in a million years would you ever have thought that a certified genius with an IQ of 187, after fifteen years of dedicated service to the FBI, would change career paths and settle down in the countryside. Yet here you were, driving to the middle of nowhere, trying to find that man.
The GPS led you down dusty backroads, past fields of golden wheat and weathered barns until finally, you arrived at his ranch. The scent of hay and the distant sound of cattle filled the air as you stepped out of the car and you couldn't help but feel out of place.
Your usual black pants and fitted blouse seemed like a striking contrast to your surroundings, especially with the sleek boots on your feet. Adjusting your shirt, you finally approached the farmhouse, the gravel crunch beneath your feet echoed with every step you took.
A group of men caught your eyes as they emerged from a weathered barn at the end of the road, and you found yourself approaching them instead. Clearing your throat, you called out to them.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," you began, "I'm looking for Spencer Reid. Is he around?"
The men exchanged knowing glances before one of them, a weathered cowboy with a straw hat shading his face, spoke up.
"You must be lookin' for the doc," he said, nodding towards the stable. "He's over there tendin' to the horses. You can't miss 'im."
With a grateful nod, you followed their directions. Nerves fluttered in your stomach as you walked into the stable, unsure of what to expect from the man who had once been your colleague but now seemed like a stranger in this unfamiliar setting.
As you pushed open the creaking door, the scent of leather and hay washed over you. Inside, you finally spotted him, his back turned as he tended to a horse in the corner of the room. His familiar profile was a stark contrast to the rugged surroundings, and for a moment, it felt surreal to see him in this new role.
Gone were the suits or knitted cardigans; instead, he was clad in well-worn denim and leather that gave him a distinctly different, yet undeniably attractive appearance. His sleeves were rolled up, showcasing the definition in his arms and a cowboy hat was perched on his head, its brim casting a shadow over his features, while his tousled hair peeked out from beneath it.
It was a side of him you had never seen before—one that seemed more at peace, more connected to the land than the city. And as you watched him work, the soft murmur of his voice filling the room as he spoke soothingly to the horse he was gently brushing, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt knowing you were going to ruin his peace.
As if sensing another presence in the room, he suddenly turned his head before his gaze fell on you. A genuine smile curled at the corner of your lips as you approached him. "Howdy, cowboy."
A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes as he straightened himself, which was quickly replaced with realization at your sudden visit.
"I was wondering when they'd send you here," he remarked, his tone a mixture of amusement and resignation. You returned his smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly at his familiar demeanor.
"I guess today is your lucky day." Your eyes scanned the rustic surroundings of his ranch, taking in the simplicity of his new life. "Well, this is quite the change of scenery."
He chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his tone as he gestured around the farmhouse. "It's definitely a far cry from the city," he admitted. "But it suits me."
"It does seem like you've found your place here. It's... different, but in a good way."
Spencer's smile widened at your words "It is different, and I like it here," he agreed. "Which is why I'm going to say no to whatever reason you're here."
You raised an eyebrow. "I haven't even said anything."
"You didn't have to, everyone else has already said their piece." He turned and focused his attention back on his horse. "And the answer is still no."
You silently studied him as he finished his task. He was right; your other teammates had already been here before you, trying to coax him back to the BAU. But you couldn't help but feel a sense of determination rise within you. Spencer Reid might be a stubborn cowboy now, but you knew deep down that his brilliant mind belonged with the team.
But knowing no one else could crack his stubbornness, you knew you needed a different approach and the only way you could think of was to reel him in with his current interest. "He's beautiful," you acknowledged, nodding towards the horse he was working on. "What's his name?"
"She's beautiful," he corrected. "And her name is Mildred."
The name didn't sound foreign to you. "You must really have something sentimental with that name. Didn't you name one of your mugs Mildred?"
He tipped his head back. "You remembered?"
"Of course, I do," you replied with a grin. "I remember a lot about you, even if we didn't have much time getting to know each other."
The memories of your time at the BAU flooded back. The way you joined the team right before Spencer had decided to take a break, which had turned out to be more permanent than anyone had anticipated. Although it was hard to forget a guy like him. You remembered when your eyes first fell on him and how your heart fluttered at his awkward yet charming smile.
There was something about him, something magnetic and intriguing that drew you in from the very beginning. It was a pity he had to leave shortly after you joined the team because you swore your admiration wasn't one-sided, but with Spencer gone, any hope of exploring those feelings had faded away.
As you stood before him now, you couldn't help but study how different he was yet still managed to look the same. The rugged cowboy attire he now wore seemed worlds away from the suit and tie he had once donned as a profiler, yet there was a familiarity to his features that remained unchanged.
But one thing was for sure, despite the time and distance of not seeing him, you were still attracted to Spencer Reid.
"I remember a lot about you too."
You laughed. "That's because you have an eidetic memory." Spencer simply flashed you a sheepish grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You slowly took a step forward towards him. "Can I touch her?"
He nodded, gesturing towards Mildred. "Go ahead. She's quite friendly."
You approached the horse cautiously, extending your hand to stroke her mane gently. Mildred nuzzled against your palm, her warm breath tickling your skin. A sense of calm washed over you as you felt the gentle rhythm of her breathing.
Spencer watched you with a soft smile, his gaze warm and reassuring. "She likes you," he remarked, his voice low and soothing.
You smiled back. "I like her too," you replied, your fingers trailing along Mildred's soft fur. Then your eyes glanced over to him and the gears in your head started to move. You needed to act as stealthy as possible. "So... how fast can horses go? In general?"
His smile widened at your question. "Well, it depends on various factors like breed, training, and terrain," he began, falling into his familiar role as an educator. "On average, horses can reach speeds of around 25 to 30 miles per hour, but some breeds can go even faster, reaching speeds of up to 40 miles per hour."
You nodded, absorbing the information as you continued stroking Mildred's fur while keeping your true intentions hidden behind a facade of innocent curiosity. "Are mammals usually that fast?"
"Actually, yes," he replied. "While horses are known for their impressive speed, they're not the only mammals capable of reaching high velocities."
"...how about bulls?"
Spencer raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by your sudden interest in bulls. "Bulls?" he echoed, studying you intently.
You met his gaze, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, bulls."
He continued to scrutinize you, his sharp intellect picking up on your evasive behavior. Spencer may not work as a profiler anymore, but he could tell when someone had ulterior motives.
"Alright, what is it?" he finally asked, crossing his arms.
You sighed, trying not to focus on the way his arms flexed at the movement, and took another step towards him. If you were going to convince him to return to the BAU, you needed to be honest with him. "Well, you see, the current case we're working on is... it's a bit unusual."
Spencer's curiosity was piqued, his interest evident in how he leaned in slightly, waiting for you to continue.
"Three victims were found dead under suspicious circumstances," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "The strange part is, all three victims were found with injuries consistent with being trampled by bulls."
"Trampled by bulls?" he repeated, disbelief coloring his voice.
"It sounds bizarre, I know. There have been reports of aggressive behavior from a nearby ranch, and the local authorities suspect that the deaths may be connected to the bulls on the property. But the thing is, the autopsies showed that it might not even be caused by any type of animal."
"And you want me to help with the investigation," he summarized.
"We could certainly use your help," you admitted, hoping that he would see the significance of his involvement.
Spencer fell silent for a moment, his gaze distant as he considered your words. Then, without saying another word, he turned on his heels and began to walk towards another part of the stable, a hidden corner shrouded in shadows. Your heart sank as you watched him move away.
"I don't think I'm the person you should be looking for."
You followed him, determined not to let him slip away without a fight. "You're exactly the person we should be looking for! With that smart brain of yours and your knowledge of farm animals, we could profile the Unsub in no time."
His steps faltered momentarily as your words reached him, but he didn't turn back to face you. Instead, he continued walking, his silhouette fading into the shadows of the stable.
"I appreciate the sentiment," he called back over his shoulder, his voice tinged with resignation, "But I'm not sure I'm the right fit for this anymore."
"Reid," you called after him, quickening your pace to catch up. "Please, just hear me out."
"Y/n," he warned dangerously low. The way he spoke your name affected you more than you'd like to admit. You cautiously took a step forward.
"Do you know how long it took me to do a geographical profile of the crime scenes? Or how Alvez spent two nights going through stacks of documents when you would've finished it in like an hour?" You let out a sigh. "It's so different without you, we miss you."
He slightly faltered at your words again but remained quiet, so you tried again.
"We could really use your help, Spence, at least on this case. The team needs you." You watched him try to do some other task as if trying to ignore you. "I need you."
He remained silent for a moment longer, the only sound the soft shuffle of his boots against the stable floor. Then, slowly, he turned to face you, and there was a subtle shift in his expression, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
"...you need me?"
You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his unexpected question. The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as you became hyper-aware of the proximity between the two of you. Your gaze involuntarily flickered over every detail of his face, taking in the curve of his stubble jaw, the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, and the lines etched on his brow.
You also noticed his lips. Those damn kissable lips, pressed together in a thin line as he waited for your response. You found yourself inexplicably drawn to them, a surge of desire coursing through you at the mere thought of what it would feel like to press your own against them.
Shaking yourself from your inappropriate thoughts, you forced your gaze back to his eyes, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment at where your mind had wandered. You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat.
"Yes," you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-I need you."
As the words left your lips, a heavy silence fell upon the room. You could feel his eyes on you, his gaze intense and searching, as if he were trying to interpret the depth of your confession. For a moment, neither of you spoke, and you could hear the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, the rhythm erratic and unsteady.
"And you missed me?"
You held his gaze. While your words might not have been an outright confession, it wasn't exactly a lie, and there was no reason to deny the truth.
"I missed you," you admitted, your voice sounding more breathless than you intended. He smiled. Then, slowly, he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth of it searing through you like a flame.
"Fine, I'll help you," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "On one condition."
Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation coursing through your veins as you waited for him to continue. His gaze held yours, unwavering and intense. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, from your wide eyes to the slope of your nose, before lingering on your lips. For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of your shallow breaths. Then he finally spoke.
"Be honest with me," he responded, his fingers tracing a gentle path along your jawline, "Do you need my help with the case or do you need me for something else?"
You met his gaze, searching for the right words to express the truth of your intentions. "Both," you admitted after a pause, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help with the case, but I also... need you."
A satisfied smile curled on his lips as he gently cupped your cheek, pulling you closer. But just as you thought he would close the distance between your lips, he paused, his warm breath teasing against your skin. His next question hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation wrapped into one.
"Tell me what you need me for then."
Your breath caught in your throat as his lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours. "I-I need you to kiss me," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, your words tinged with urgency and desire. "Please."
His gaze darkened. "I never took you as one to beg," he remarked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "But I must admit, I quite like it."
Then slowly, almost hesitantly, he closed the remaining distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light touch. You could still feel the smile playing on his lips, but only briefly before he moved them slowly, capturing every curve of your soft lips.
He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, holding your jaw in place. His hand cradled your face, holding you gently but firmly, while his other hand explored your body. It trailed down your back, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you, before settling on your hip. You gasped at the sudden contact and he seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue delving deeper.
With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. Your fingers tangled in his hair, knocking off his hat onto the floor before tugging lightly at the roots, eliciting a low moan from him that vibrated against your lips.
What had started as gently molding your lips together turned into a passionate dance of tongues, leaving you moaning and breathless. He slowly pulled away, his eyes slamming shut as his forehead met yours, both of you gasping for air while you tried to regain your composure. His breath mingled with yours, a heady mix of desire and need, as he spoke in a ragged voice.
"You," he gasped, his words laced with raw intensity, "Taste better than I imagined."
Your head was spinning. How could he consume you with just a kiss? You had dreamed of this moment, of being close to him, but you never imagined it would affect you as deeply as it did now.
"Do you even realize," He pressed on, his voice low with pent-up longing. "How much I've wanted to do this?"
Your head was swimming in a haze of desire as his lips trailed along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. "Yeah?" you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts.
He nodded against your neck. "Ever since I saw you."
"Wh-Why didn't you say anything?" you managed to stammer out, the words barely audible amidst the dizzying sensation of his lips on your skin.
"Wasn't sure you felt the same way."
You took a moment to process his words, the warmth of his breath against your skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations coursing through you. "You should've said something, it would make this whole convincing you a lot easier."
He paused, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along your neck. "I don't know," he finally murmured. "I think I need a little more persuading."
His words sent a jolt of desire coursing through you, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the intoxicating sensation of his lips on your skin.
"I can persuade you in other ways."
Spencer lifted his head, his gaze meeting yours. "Then show me," he breathed, his voice thick with desire.
There was no room for hesitation. You leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a desperate, passionate kiss, fully aware of the risk of being caught, but his mouth on your body felt too good to care. It wasn't like you hadn't fantasized about this exact moment, about the feel of his mouth on your body, the way his hands would explore every inch of you with a hunger that mirrored your own.
His hands found your hips, pushing you to the nearest wall before his fingers fumbled with the buttons on your blouse. It was clear you both decided that the risk was well worth the wait.
"May I?" He asked, his fingers still working on your front buttons.
You laughed amusedly. "You already are."
His response was a chuckle of his own before he buried his head in your neck again. The opening in the front of your shirt chilled your body, sending goosebumps all along your skin as his hands caressed over your lacy, black bra covering your breasts, thumbing your hardened nipples.
He leaned further down, trailing his lips over your cleavage, before sucking softly on the spot. The sensation made you gasp, knowing well enough that there would be marks left behind, but you didn't care. Wanting to give more to him, you reached out between your bodies and pulled down your bra, granting him more access to your skin.
His eyes drank in the sight before him hungrily. He gently rubbed against the small pebbles on your chest, wetting his lips as he did, eyes completely trained on them now. Without warning he surged forward, tongue darting out to lick a long, flat stripe against one of your nipples. You let out a surprised moan at the action, fingers tugging at his hair tightly and head tilting back before snapping down to look at him.
A choked moan left your lips as he continued sucking, licking, twirling his tongue around it while playing with the other with his hand. "Spence..." you whined, your voice sounding clear in the room.
"Shh," he mumbled against your skin. "Keep your voice down."
You nodded helplessly as he released your nipple before wrapping his lips around the other one, giving the same attention. He repeated the motion, rolling your wet nipple under his calloused palm, having you arch your back and push your chest into his face. He didn't have to be told twice, immediately giving it a hard suck while pinching the other one.
The sensation traveled along your body before it lowered between your thighs, forming an ache the second his hand trailed down your stomach. His fingers finally found the hem of your pants, before dipping underneath the material, slipping right underneath your panties. Your breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between your folds, spreading your slick before finding its rightful place on your clit.
"You're so wet," he whispered in a daze, trailing his lips back up your collarbone. He couldn't believe how drenched you already were. "All this for me?"
You nodded, gasping when he stroked up and down your folds, coating his fingers with your arousal. Your hips buckled against his touch and he didn't hesitate when he started rubbing your clit, feeling your body writhe under him. A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through you, and your head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed.
But before you could relish the pleasure, he suddenly pulled his hand out of your pants before tugging you, urging you to follow him. As he led you deeper into the stable, your heart raced with anticipation. You followed him silently, feeling a rush of excitement as he pulled you behind the stacks of hay, sheltering the two of you from prying eyes.
The rustling of the hay beneath you echoed in the room as he pulled you closer, his touch igniting a fire within you as you pressed your hands on his chest. With trembling hands, you began to undo the buttons of his shirt, and his gaze never left yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
As your fingertips brushed along his skin, you felt the warmth radiating from his body, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He wasn't muscular in the conventional sense, but there was a lean strength to him that was undeniably attractive. Your fingers continued their journey downward, skimming lightly over the softness of his stomach before teasing along the line of hair that trailed further down.
Your hands found their way to the buckle of his belt, fingers deftly working to undo it. He made no move to stop you as his gaze remained fixed on you. There was a hunger in his eyes, urging you for more, yet he remained patient, allowing you to take the lead. And then you tugged down his denim, not much than an inch but enough for you to pull his cock out.
He was warm and achingly hard, and a low, guttural sound escaped his lips as his hips bucked into your palm. His eyes fluttered closed momentarily, a shudder passing through him as he surrendered to the sensation. You looked up at him through your lashes, the corner of your lips quirked up in a smirk.
"Shh," you whispered, echoing his words. "Keep your voice down."
He chuckled softly, eyes meeting yours. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Not as much as you are."
You proved your point by tugging his cock harder, pumping up and down his length. His head fell back, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he fought to stifle his moans. You couldn't help but find it endearing, the way he struggled to keep quiet, his brows creasing in concentration. It was a pity, really, because you liked hearing the raw, unfiltered sounds of his pleasure.
You swiped your thumb along the tip of his cock, gathering the slickness before rubbing it along his length. His head snapped down to look between you, his eyes taking in the way you quickened your pace, pumping him in your hand. A sense of urgency overwhelmed him the moment your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip, and he leaned in, shoving his own tongue into your mouth.
The way your fingers gripped his cock had him moaning into the kiss which you happily accepted. As he felt that familiar knot tightening in his stomach, he knew he had to act quickly. With a gasp, he pulled away from the kiss, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he reached between you to halt your movements. With a sense of urgency, he shrugged off his shirt and laid it carefully on the stack of hay behind you.
"Turn around," was all he said as he pushed down his pants to uncover himself, leaving you empty for the moment.
You obliged, turning while gripping the hem of your pants and slipping them down your legs. Without hesitation, you pushed your panties down before kicking them off, giving him the perfect view of your soaked slit. It didn't take long for him to drop onto the floor, his hands running along the back of your thighs.
"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushing your damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty little thing?"
You leaned forward and arched your back at his words, earning a deep, low sound of approval from him. One of his hands gripped your ass, slowly kneading your supple skin as his other hand grabbed onto your right leg, hiking it over the stack of hay. He had a better view of your wetness in this position, and you bit down your lips when you felt his fingers brush over your entrance.
A finger slipped inside you, then two, and when he started to pump them in and out of your tight walls, you pressed yourself further onto the stack of hay underneath you, trying to hold yourself back from making too much noise. Your arousal dripped from your core to coat his fingers and he was mesmerized by how eager your body was for him, how your hips rocked back against his hand.
But you needed more. His touch, his warmth, his presence—it wasn't enough. Your body ached for him, every nerve alive with desire.
"Please..." you breathlessly begged him, wanting to feel him inside of you, wanting him to rid your body of the tension, of the ache between your legs. Your jaw slacked open when you felt his mouth press against your clit before giving a slight suck.
"Tell me what you need," he ordered, breath deep and raspy and strained against your wet skin. He sucked onto your aching nub once again as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. "And I'll give it to you."
"Please," you gasped, overwhelmed with the sudden force of his fingers and tongue between your legs and the pleasure that coursed through your body. "I w-want to f-feel you."
He pulled his fingers from within you, but his mouth was still exploring the wetness of your skin. His eager tongue worked wonders against your pussy, drawing out every second of pleasure as your hips rolled against his mouth. A whimper slipped from your lips as his tongue worked on your clit faster and you found yourself unable to contain yourself any longer.
"S-Spence..." You whined, not caring how desperate you sounded. All that mattered was your need for him. "Please..."
He placed a kiss on your swollen clit. "Be specific, baby, tell me what you need."
His endearment sent shivers down your spine, and you felt yourself spiraling further. Without hesitation, you begged shamelessly, "I-I want to feel y-your cock."
A low groan fell through his lips as he got off the floor, positioning himself behind you. "Say more words like that and I may lose the hint of self-control I have."
"I just—I just need you to fuck me," you didn't recognize the choke in your voice when you whined again.
He had no intention of protesting as he slipped between your legs, finally allowing you to feel just how hard you made him. For a moment, he pushed his hips toward you, grinding his cock against your folds, feeling your arousal soak his flesh.
"Is this what you wanted?" His hand gripped his cock to ease the tip over your entrance, pushing into you slowly, gasping when your walls clenched around him eagerly.
"Fuck, yes," was all you could manage to whimper, eyes screwing shut as he filled you up. And when you could barely stand anymore, becoming a quivering mess beneath him, he finally thrust deeper, pushing his hips against your body, earning a gasp with your mouth falling open.
"Oh my god." You could barely speak, barely form words, or even think as he pressed a hand to on your lower back, holding you in place as he dragged his cock out of you, only to ram himself back inside.
"Harder," you begged him, so breathless once again, "F-Faster."
He listened to you; he listened to the way your body moved against him, the way your walls tightened around his length. The way you stifled a moan and curse and huff anytime he thrust just right to have you pushing your hips back to him, your body trembling, shaking, and your legs nearly giving out because the pleasure became too much to bear.
"D-Don't stop." You had no shame in begging him. Not when he could make you feel so good, not when he was holding onto your hips as he continued to thrust into your dripping cunt.
"That's it," he encouraged, hips beginning to fall into a steady rhythm. "Tell me how good it feels. Beg me not to stop."
"So-so good," you babbled. "Don't—don't fucking stop."
He obliged your words by pushing apart your legs even further. Your face twisted in pleasure, so sensitive and overwhelmed as his hips smacked against your ass and he thrust himself harder into you. Sweat began to bead against his forehead once he pumped his cock into you harder, faster, earning every little whimper, even the ones you lacked the strength to release.
Thoughts of getting caught, of knowing anyone could walk in when he was buried deep inside you, left both of your minds. Neither of you cared when you were so wrapped up in one another. Not when you hiked your leg higher, allowing his cock to hit the spot that had you quivering in his hold when he slammed into you again.
Then he suddenly released his grip on your hips, slipping a hand between the two of you to press his fingers to your clit. The sudden increase in pleasure had you gasping in pure bliss. The room began to spin, air rushing to your head and the harder he fucked you, the deeper he thrust, and the faster his fingers rubbed against your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold your sanity any longer.
He sensed your desperation in the way you gasped his name over and over again, and he thrust into you with more force than before. You tightened around him, squeezing him so damn hard he was tempted to lose all control right then, but he persisted in bringing your pleasure first. The sloppy sounds of your arousal coating his flesh filled the room, and with one, final thrust, you gasped before the pleasure finally consumed you.
He abruptly released your clit as he took hold of your hips again, keeping you in place while ruthlessly thrusting in and out through your bliss. His fingers pressed harder, drawing out every breathless moan, every strained whimper, every gasp of his name until your body grew too weak.
But he was far from done, slowing his hips to hit deep within your walls with aggressive thrusts, bringing his own high closer and closer as you whined from the overwhelming sensation, too sensitive, too far gone to handle much more, shuddering with every push of his cock within you.
"Where—" he groaned, your slick cunt too much for him, your juices drenching along his pelvis. "I'm close—"
You managed to snap your head over your shoulders. "Pull out, pull out."
You watched through fluttering lids as he gripped himself in his hand, and with trembling legs, you kneeled before him, gripped his cock in your hand, and took him fully in your mouth. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, sucking a breath in through his teeth as he felt your tongue dragging along his length.
You pushed further, hollowing your cheeks as you continued to swallow him down until the tip of his cock finally reached the back of your throat, nose pressed against his pelvis. He tipped his head back as you started to suck him, gagging around him when you felt him thrust his hips into you.
His eyes flicked down again at the sound only to find you looking up at him through your lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, before cradling your soft cheeks in both his large hands, and began thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth. Obscene noises filled the room as he continued to use you, tears welling at your lids and saliva building at your lips, seeping down your chin.
He continued to pump himself into your mouth, slowly starting to lose control, getting so lost in how warm your lips were wrapped around him. His jaw fell open as he released a final groan, brows creasing and eyes screwed shut, thrusting so deep before the first shot of his release filled your mouth.
Then a few more shots followed and you swallowed every drop down your throat as he continued to look at you in wonder. His breath was punching out of his chest in ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he silently groaned through the pleasure.
His head dipped low as you dragged your tongue up his length for the last time, from the base of his cock to the tip, and you finally licked him clean. A few moments of catching your breaths passed before he gently pulled you back to your feet.
As you both quickly fixed your clothes and adjusted your hair, he retrieved his cowboy hat from where it had been discarded on the floor, placing it back on his head with a grin. Then, without hesitation, he drew you close, his lips peppering your face with sweet, tender kisses.
You laughed at his sudden affection. "What's all this for?" you asked, smiling up at him.
"I feel obligated after... all of that," he confessed, his lips brushing softly against yours before he withdrew slightly. "You're amazing."
Your smile widened at his words, a soft warmth blooming in your chest. "And you're not so bad yourself," you replied teasingly, wrapping your arms around his neck. "So, was that enough to convince you to come back?"
"Almost," he murmured, his voice low and filled with warmth. "I think I need a bit more convincing."
You quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think I have it in me for round two."
"No, not that," he said with a laugh. His hand slid down to rest on your lower back, drawing you closer to him. "Have dinner with me tonight and I'll come by the office tomorrow."
You smiled up at him, a flutter of excitement dancing in your chest as you took in every detail of his rugged features—the subtle crinkle in the corner of his eyes, the hint of stubble along his jawline, and the warmth of his brown eyes that seemed to shine brighter in the light.
Your gaze lingered on his cowboy hat, and with a mischievous grin, you reached out to grab it, placing it atop your own head.
"Then you've got yourself a deal, cowboy."
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Can I interest anyone in a wee bit of frenemy(?)eddie and some soft confessions while under the influence?
18+, MDNI 2.2k
cw: drug use (edible)
“Oh, wow. She’s really out.”
Nancy wasn’t wrong, but Eddie didn’t need to be told. He had noted your rapid descent into sleep when it started halfway through the movie. Your eyelids fluttering like they had weights attached to them and your body curling into itself as you sank into the cushions of the Wheeler’s sofa.
You were crumpled in a ball at the end of it now, hugging the arm like you thought you were going to roll off the edge of a cliff if you let go. Your half-drunk beer still sat on the end table, abandoned once the edible you split with Argyle took effect.
Eddie had foolishly tried to warn you off it, saying you should start with half of your half and go from there. But of course that only set the two of you off like a pair of dueling firecrackers.
He didn’t know how he kept ending up in these spats with you. He never intended to insult you, it just seemed he had a real knack for it. You always accused him of babying you and he’d accuse you of being too stubborn for your own good.
Had anyone besides Eddie suggested you take it easy, you probably would have listened and might still be conscious right now.
Nancy jostled you gently, trying to rouse you while Eddie peered over her shoulder. He didn’t care for the lifeless way your limbs hung, for the way your head lolled forward on your shoulders like you couldn’t hold it up yourself.
It made his fingers drum nervously on the outside edge of his thigh and the wallet chain that hung there clinked with each and every irregular tap.
Of course he knew there was logically no way you could OD on a pot brownie—but that didn’t mean he delighted in seeing you so incapacitated.
Eyes shut tight, you started babbling softly in response to Nancy’s voice as she tried to draw you back to the world of the waking. With a soft oof, she got you to put one arm around her neck and attempted to lift you off the couch. But even with the deceptive strength of her slight frame, she wasn’t getting you anywhere by herself.
So, she glanced around the room at the rest of their friends in their various states of intoxication.
Steve and Robin were long gone, Robin being the winner of their coin toss for who got to drink that night while the other stayed sober. She’d skipped on the edible and mainlined strawberry daiquiris instead, leading to her calling out forlornly as Steve helped drag her out the door,
“What if I puke pink? Please, please, please, don’t let me puke pink—”
Argyle and Jonathan were passed out, entwined on the pallet of blankets and pillows on the floor, Jonathan likely not realizing the warm chest he was burying his face in wasn’t his girlfriend’s.
Finally, her determined gaze fell to Eddie, and she tilted her head at him in that Nancy way of her’s that gave out marching orders without her so much as speaking a word. With another glance at your sleeping form, Eddie released a resigned sigh and nodded his head.
As they helped you climb the stairs, one arm slung over each of their shoulders, you started to rouse again and slowly registered what was happening through the fog of your high.
“Aww, shit…m’fucked up, huh?” you chuckled, letting out a heavy sigh. Head lifted the couple of inches you could manage, “M’so sorry, Nance, I shouldn’t have…he was right…again…”
The bitter edge in your voice as the last word left your lips made Eddie’s brow jump with interest. You lifted your head the full two inches you could manage and peered at Nancy through half-lidded eyes. Your head then swiveled to the other side and Eddie braced himself for more vitriol.
But none came.
Your face didn’t even change and Eddie realized your current state made he and Nancy’s mops of messy brown curls somewhat indistinguishable. You just continued on like you were still talking to your best friend, not the guy you couldn’t stand.
“Wheeler, you’re a fucking beast, you know that? You’re so strong…”
The loopy giggle you let out brought a smile to Eddie’s lips in spite of himself. He felt your hand start to curl around his shoulder and it made him tense, worrying you’d recognize the rough denim of his vest. But your fingers simply held it, rubbed the frayed hem of his cut-off sleeve between the pads, your sleepy smile re-forming.
“God, Nance, you smell so good…”
Your head suddenly drooped, landing partially on Eddie’s shoulder and making his breath catch.
You took a deep inhale of his scent, your chest expanding with it and making Eddie’s eyes bulge and then avert quickly when he caught himself ogling the deep scoop of your neckline. He had already committed most of the night to avoiding just that, his eyes just…slipped for a second.
Over your head, he caught Nancy’s gaze and the cloudy blue color might as well have been a bright red laser for how clearly she saw through him.
Thankfully, they got to the guest room before she could make any damning remarks. She pushed open the door and flicked on the bedside lamp, illuminating a bed piled obscenely high with pillows and a down comforter seemingly thicker than some mattresses Eddie had slept on.
“Can you hold her?” Nancy asked, looking from the bed back to him.
His throat bobbed with a harsh swallow and he nodded, only half-sure of his answer. Nancy lifted your other arm from her shoulder and turned you into his body. Your other arm wrapped around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder.
His hands wrapped hesitantly around your back, holding you against him almost like you were slow dancing. He had to resist the urge to sway.
Heart thundering so loud he feared it might wake you, Eddie watched while Nancy pushed all of the decorative pillows to the floor and turned down the comforter, motioning Eddie forward.
He walked you backwards a few steps and sat you down on the edge of the bed while Nancy knelt to take off your shoes. Thankfully, the dress code on movie night was always supremely casual and the track pants and tank top you’d worn would be fine to sleep in.
You babbled a bit more as they got you ready for bed, seemingly oblivious to Eddie’s presence—even mentioning him briefly as they helped you lay flat and Nancy lifted your legs onto the bed.
“He’s just so annoying, you know?” you muttered bitterly. “Like, whatever, you’re hot and you play guitar and you’ve banged like half the town. That doesn’t mean you know everything.”
Eddie tried not to let the words sting. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t said before to his face, but there was something about you still saying it, even when he “wasn’t there” to hear it.
“I’m gonna get water,” Nancy whispered, already out the door. “Just keep an eye on her, please?”
Eddie frowned and grumbled in response, but he didn’t move from his spot beside you. He did start to turn away, but stopped when you shifted in the bed. You reached out a limp hand and caught just the tips of Eddie’s fingers, tugging lightly on them like you wanted to tell him something.
He sank slowly to his knees, trying to hear you as your lips moved almost mutely.
“Should’ve listened,” you muttered. “Shouldn’t’ve been such a dick…”
You seemed perfectly content continuing your conversation even without “Nancy” responding, and Eddie wondered if he should just go? He was positive you’d be mortified if you ever found out he had overheard any of this. But even as he was screaming at his feet to move, for his knees to rise, they remained planted on the Wheeler’s plush carpeting at your next words.
“Nance…why doesn’t he like me?”
It took what felt like a year for Eddie to unfreeze. He looked towards the door for a sign of Nancy’s shadow in the hallway, the sound of her footsteps on the stairs. But there was none.
Your head lolled on the pillow, eyes still shut but the lids twitching subtly like you were trying to open them. If you did, you’d be staring straight into Eddie’s own rapt gaze. You still held your pitifully weak grasp on his fingers, and he easily could have pulled away. But he didn’t.
Eddie just watched, torn between his standards of decency and being desperate to find out what you were talking about. He didn’t even know you were into anyone—let alone that you liked them enough to groan about them to Nancy. What kind of idiot wouldn’t like you back?
Some sadistic part of him wanted to find out.
“I mean, I know I’m not—m’not like…Chrissy—but I’m alright, aren’t I? An’ I wore thisstupid booby shirt hoping he’d notice and he just…”
Your voice took on a wounded waver and you stopped, inhaling deeply as if to steady yourself. The beginnings of tears started to shimmer along your lash line and you shut your eyes tighter, but it only squeezed one of them out and made it trickle down your temple in a wet trail.
Okay…Eddie was really confused now.
He didn’t even know you knew his ex-girlfriend’s name until it came tumbling past your lips. And he sure as shit had so noticed your booby shirt—he’d barely been able to keep his eyes off you, had to actively force himself not to stare.
Had you actually…did you really wear it for him?
All of a sudden, you rolled onto your side and your eyes cracked open the widest he had seen them all night. You looked almost lucid and you were staring directly into Eddie’s face.
He flinched slightly, worried you might scream when you saw him. But you just sighed, scanning his features all glassy and moon-eyed as you stared at him plainly. Unabashedly.
Like he’s an oil painting that couldn’t look back.
“He’s just so…pretty.”
The words are whispered, like a secret. And it takes everything in him to remain totally still and not to let his eyes bug completely out of his skull. Wait, did you…Did you not think he was there?
“I like’im so much…what’m I gonna do?”
There it was again. That plaintive whine, that broken lilt of your voice that tugged mercilessly at something deep inside of him. Heartstrings he didn’t know were there until you plucked them.
You looked at him with those shiny eyes. Literal tears were filling them now, threatening to spill down your cheeks. You were crying. Over him? What kind of world was he living in?
And nearly too late, Eddie realized your eyes were fluttering closed again. Not from exhaustion, but to lean in and kiss him.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion. You stretched your neck forward, hand coming up to cup his jaw—god, your palms were so soft, not rough and hard like his—and Eddie felt himself melt briefly into your touch, just for a moment before he realized what you were doing.
Eyes closing, chest heaving, lips parting as you leaned into what you thought was a dream.
No, no, no, he thought frantically. Not like this—
Eddie wrapped his hand around your wrist and gently pulled away from you. It made you push a little harder, trying to fight your way out of his grasp, but you were weak and looked more like a kitten trying to box. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want you to get upset, he just—
“Hey,” he soothed, gently brushing the backs of his fingertips along your jaw. “Just go to sleep, okay? We can talk about this in the morning.”
You blinked, seemingly in realization, like you were surprised to hear him speak. And it made him wonder how many of your other dreams he’d starred in where he didn’t say a word.
But his voice seemed to soothe you somewhat, your fists unclenching and dropping to lay on the softness of the sheets. You nodded your head as your face sunk back into the pillow, your cheek rubbing the dainty floral bouquets on the case.
Eddie let out the breath he didn’t remember he was holding, his shoulders slumping with it as his mind raced. Carefully, with nimble fingers curled around the edge of the comforter, he tugged it up further over your shoulders, almost to your chin. You snuggled a little deeper into your sleep and Eddie tucked the blanket in a little tighter, his heart pounding with every second.
And before he could talk himself out of it, he dropped a feather-light kiss to your forehead.
Once in a while we have to do the pining, I guess 🙄
Very veeeeeeeeeery loosely inspired by that scene in New Girl where Jess is on painkillers. Ty for reading - love you, mean it!
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things
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Here's an arc I thought about doing but won't do because, it'd be a bit too sad and also it's too similar to the Turing Point Arc I already did and also it would be long. But I'll write it here for you angst enjoyers. This ended up being longer than I thought.
Despite getting the "okay" from Ash to date Jessie, Delia still worries that she's not doing the right thing or being a bad mom. Up until now she'd convinced herself that she had the right to be selfish for once after knowing only sacrifice and putting herself last.
Jessie and Ash, while not as antagonistic towards each other, still go at it. A Pikachu zap here, an angry "twerp" being uttered there. The guilt settles in for Delia and figures that it's best to just cut things off before things potentially get worse or before she gets too attached to Jessie. Her son comes first after all. That's what she signed up for when becoming a parent.
She sits Jessie down, eyes watery (it's the first time Jessie's ever seen Delia come close to crying). Delia says she thinks they should end things. Jessie is stunned but accepts it quickly. She sucks it up in the moment, puts a resigned smile on her face and tells Delia she'll leave immediately and not to worry about her. Delia's also broken up about it but promised herself she'd never cry over a goodbye and she wasn't gonna start now.
Jessie goes to James and Meowth's place greeted similarly to this, lightly teasing her about blowing it with Delia, and she breaks down sobbing. Oops it's real this time. James and Meowth do everything in their power to make her feel better. They let her know that things like this happen and they're ready to go wherever she wants to go (knowing that it'd likely be to painful for her to stay in Pallet). As much as she wants to leave, she doesn't want James and Meowth to lose the good thing they have going. She's not in the right headspace to make any decisions so she'll get to it later.
Ash returns home after doing a little training at Oak's lab. He notices Jessie's not around and asks his mom where she is. Delia is about to tell him but can't quite bring herself to say the truth out loud yet. She simply says "I don't know". Ash looks disappointed. "Aw man, I wanted to see if she wanted to battle. She makes a good battle buddy for all of my newer, baby Pokémon." Delia perks up that this. As quickly as he came, he leaves again to go train his Pokémon.
Later, Delia approaches Ash, asking him if he really meant that what he said about Jessie being a good battle partner. He gives her an enthusiastic "yeah!" and tells her that it's been nice having another battle ready trainer around since there's not many in Pallet. Delia starts to pry a little more. "I thought you and Jessie didn't get along?" Ash is confused, and tells Delia they get along great! "Jessie doesn't steal anymore! And she's getting better at battling which is cool." Delia brings up that she's head them argue before. "Oh... well I guess that's just how we are. I'd be weirded out if she was suddenly too nice to me all the time. Jessie's actually a lot like Misty. But taller!" This gives Delia a lot to think about but what's done is done and it's no use pressing on. It's easier this way.
The next morning Delia's getting ready for work. She must not have noticed that she was acting weird but Ash picks up on it. "What's wrong mom?" Delia's shocked he noticed (he's not usually this perceptive). She tells him it's nothing and that she just slept bad. "Hm. But Jessie says that when you're upset you get really quiet and intense." Delia notices that she was pretty intensely mixing the pancake batter. "Jessie told you that?" Ash nods. "Hey speaking of, where is Jessie? Haven't seen her since yesterday." Delia stops mixing and tells Ash that she and Jessie aren't together anymore. Ash is confused and upset at the idea of Jessie doing something that would hurt his mom enough for them to break up. Delia lets him know that Jessie didn't do anything like that and that them breaking up was just for the best. But Ash questions this, pointing out that he's never seen Delia as happy as she was when Jessie was there and also how Delia looks really sad now. Delia can't argue with that but then tells him that it's complicated. Ash, to Delia's surprise, looks a bit disappointed. He's bummed he wasn't able to say goodbye first and asks if she thinks Jessie would still be willing to come by and train with him sometimes. Delia asks him once more if he was really okay with her and Jessie dating. "Yeah I thought I said that already? Jessie's pretty cool when she's not being evil. And she really likes Pokémon which is a plus!" Such simple criteria. Delia's now worried that she might've made a mistake. She finishes making breakfast and heads to work.
At the restaurant she's met by James. She can feel an awkwardness hanging in the air. She knows that James knows. Before she can say anything James tells Delia thank you for employing him and helping him, Meowth and Jessie get back on their feet but that he's going to quit working at the restaurant and that they'll likely be leaving Pallet soon. Delia's heart sinks. There's now a ticking clock and she has to decide what she wants to do SOON. She asks James where Jessie is. James hesitantly tells her that she's at his and Meowth's place. Delia pleads with James to work the restaurant for one more day at least and to cover this shift. She has to go talk to Jessie. He agrees, hoping that this is a good thing.
Delia runs to James and Meowth's place. She knocks on the door upon arrival and waits. It takes a moment but she hears the door unlock. Jessie opens the door, disheveled, tears and snot all over her face, draped in a blanket. Jessie notices it's Delia and, frightened, slams the door. Delia's stunned for a moment and goes to knock on the door again but before she can the door opens. This time Jessie's tears are gone, her hair's fixed and she ditched the blanket. "Oh hey, Delia! What brings you here?" Delia can't help but be charmed. But this is serious. She shakes it off and asks if they could talk. Jessie invites her in. They get to the couch and Jessie starts frantically cleaning up all the crumpled tissues and dirty dishes off the ground. "Heh I caught a cold yesterday. A one day cold. I'm fine now." Delia doesn't call out the obvious lie and gets straight to the point.
She tells Jessie that she's worried she made a mistake. She made a panicked decision that she was hoping would protect Ash and her future self. But now realizes that she was afraid of the idea that she'd made a selfish decision by dating her. It was a selfish decision but that didn't mean it was a bad one. She was the happiest she'd been, Jessie and Ash were learning to get along and were getting along much better than she'd though. She acknowledges that Jessie has been there for Ash in a way that she can't quite be and is also grateful to her for managing to keep Ash home a little longer. She asks if Jessie would be willing to take her back (despite the distress she caused). Jessie starts sobbing with happy tears. She tearfully says she'll try even harder to get along with Ash and be a better person. Delia reassures her that she's doing just fine.
They kiss passionately but then realize it's weird that they're making out in James in Meowth's place and say they'll continue later. Delia tells Jessie to head back home and that Ash is looking forward to battling with her (and she also needs to let James and Meowth not to quit their jobs).
The end~
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latibule.
premise. in which all too many intrusions come in the form of one particular shadow guard. (or, moze always looks to you to patch him up. inexplicably, you let him do so anyway.)
warnings: gn!reader, pining moze but he's too edgy to know, one kimi ni todoke inspired (?) scene, treating injuries, banter (obviously), probably ooc, feixiao cameo, based off of the new quest, kinda mid writing
notes: not proofread i have no excuse i just like him okay???? inspired by @luvether's mozeqiu/reader fic (i love ur works ☹️) ty @lowkeyren for the chinese help!
“You're here again, Moze.”
In the wee hours between 1AM to 3AM, it has become a daily occurence for you to tend to Moze's injuries.
He nods. “I'm here.”
Despite having a perfectly (super) capable healer who attends to even the Lady General personally at her behest, you do not know why Moze always ends up at your window of all things during the ungodly hours of the moon's turn, complete with stupid, easily treatable cuts all across his body.
As General Feixiao's Representative Proxy, such work is not your forte—and rarely do you ever employ your few practiced arts in healing; the result often clumsy and sloppy, just enough to treat the few cuts Moze sports.
Still, it has since become routine to patch Moze up, and despite your insistence that he take care of himself more, the ashy haired man never listens, instead ending up at your home. You wonder if he does this on purpose.
Next time, you think, you're never going to open the windowsill for him again.
You open the windowsill further to let him in. Hypocrite, your mind echoes unhelpfully. Great, you must be losing your mind.
“Got into trouble again, hm?”
His expression tells you that whoever he fought wasn't all that—show-off—internally, you roll your eyes. “...Will you patch me up?”
No, your mind tells you, the words are at the tip of your tongue; you're always sneaking in here at night, and making me go through all this trouble.
(Your actions betray a different tune altogether.)
You don't know when Moze started to make you his personal healer despite Jiaoqiu in the vicinity; a moment of worry led to one thing, and now here you are, Moze's budget Jiaoqiu at home. The thought makes you laugh to yourself. Compared to the foxian, your skills could be described as subpar at best.
(Complaining to your own Lady General was no use. Incredulously, Feixiao believed that it was because—
“You're special.” Feixiao says with a grin. “Is it not obvious that it is because he wishes to see you?”
“What?” Looking at her, your voice is a tired drawl of resignation. “....My Lady, it seems your recent exposure to the Luofu's romance novels have dulled your judgement. Shall I call for Jiaoqiu?”
“Wha- Hey, don't call me senile!” Your Lady General deadpans, “Anyway, I'm telling you, Moze likes you!”)
“Why is it always me?” you grumble under your breath, though it doesn't escape Moze's ears.
It's good that you don't expect an answer; if Moze had to be honest, he doesn't know why he always goes to you either.
“Why wouldn't it be you?” Moze says, not missing a beat.
Your cheeks warm, the heat crawling up your neck from his audacious words. Jeez, he really doesn't know his effect on people, did he?
“...Not to mention, Jiaoqiu is asleep.”
Never mind. “Know the shame.”
“I don't wish to disturb Jiaoqiu as well.”
“Oh, so you see it fit to bother me but don't bother with Jiao-gege?”
“You'll live.” Moze blinks. Frowns. “Wait, did you just call him... gege?”
You raise an eyebrow. “Yes, what about it?”
“Since when were you two so close?”
“Mm, since a certain guard stops by my home at twilight hour?”
“....”
Sighing, your hands are nimble against the bandages, looping the white cloth in your palm and dabbing at the corners of Moze's face, gentle. Up close, his face is all sharp edges and harsh lines. Whether he notices how you gulp when you approach closer, swiping the cloth along his lower lip, he holds his tongue, for fear of disturbing whatever it was, permeating between the two of you like a thick haze, afraid of destroying the peaceful silence.
He watches, instead, as you scrub away the little bit of blood on his cheek.
You're talking; something about him being too reckless, taking care of himself more, yet he finds that he can't catch a word of what you're saying, focusing only on one thing.
Your hands are warm.
Heat creeps up to his neck like coiling vines, twisting his stomach, all because of you. Moze's heart thrums, breath stolen away—you're so close, it's unbearable—and he fights to keep himself even remotely neutral. All because of you.
“Moze?”
What are you doing to him? Why does he always come back to you? Is he sick?
“You're burning up.” You press your hand against his neck; and funnily enough, the thought of leaning into your touch crosses Moze's mind—it's maddening how much he wants to do so.
Blinking once, Moze looks to find you pulling away, and before he can think of it, his fingers wrap around your wrist in an iron grip, carefully maintained distance discarded.
“...?”
“Ah, wait, it's fine— Just—” don't pull away.
What?
Moze coughs. “Just continue.”
The night's breeze flows throughout your home; the chuang kou is wide open, with Moze looking less like General Feixiao's most trusted aide and more akin to an obedient dog. It's humiliation, Moze thinks—but when it was you, his dignity could be in tatters for all he cares.
Your eyes soften, just a bit, “If you say so.”
Inexplicably, relief assaults Moze's senses like a balm to his soul. Because the idea of being perceived, heard—by you—affects him in a dizzying, confounding way, and he knows not how to cure such an ailment whose only cure is your presence.
And maybe, just maybe, it's why he can never stop returning to you. Let you think him a fool, an idiot—so as long as he ends up at your window, by your side, it's a small price to pay.
“Okay.” he affirms, loosening his grip, (never you, though) finally letting you finish patching him up as you plaster what remains of the white bandages upon his face.
Noticeably, he doesn't let go of your hand.
“Okay.” you echo, and finally, you're finished with your work. The sight of Moze all bandaged up perfectly and finally getting to sleep makes you happier than you should be, the prospect of sleep way too enticing.
“There, all done. Take care of yourself better next time, 'kay?”
He hums, “I'll keep that in mind.”
“You sure you will?”
“Yes.” Moze looks at you, and he looks at you like it would be a sin of the greatest kind to take his eyes of off you; holding your presence in his irises, emulating you deeply onto his pupils, his tendons and his limbs. “I will.”
(How could he ever not listen to you?)
You release him, much to Moze's reluctance—opening the closed chuang kou. The night breeze welcomes Moze, kissing his skin, with the colors of the rising sun beginning to rise, vibrancy in the darkness of the inky night.
“...Moze?” you call, in the corner of your eye, seeing him already putting a foot on the rooftop.
“Jeez, if you wanted to see me that much, just tell me instead of going through all this trouble, really....” you mumble, glad that your back is turned from him, lest he sees the heat dusting your cheeks. You know Moze has probably left, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
Well, you'll bring it up another time, then. Something tells you he'll listen, this time.
This time, you don't ignore the flutter of the butterflies in your stomach.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
(“Jeez, if you wanted to see me that much, just tell me instead of going through all this trouble, really....”
In the darkened corner of shadow, a figure slumps disgracefully with a loud thud. Using a hand to grip the side of the wall, nothing can compare to the burning heat crawling up Moze's skin, positively flushed.
Moze puts a hand to his face, slumping further to a near kneel.
It's warm—just like the ghostly feeling of your hands upon his skin minutes prior.
Maybe he'll take you up on your offer.)
a/n: sorry for the long sporadic activity :,D this is what a chuang kou looks like btw
#hsr x reader#— stellaronhvnters.#hsr x you#honkai star rail x reader#moze x reader#moze x you#moze honkai star rail#x reader#for the tagged ppl: lmk if i should remove the tag haha#hsr x y/n#hsr x gender neutral reader
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heat
part two of "cottontail"
CW: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, heavily suggestive, profanity, bunny mutation + spring = fun times, girl imma do my best, this took forever, might be a little long, etc.
As much as he hated to admit it, Logan was worried about you.
In his two-hundred years of living, he had never met someone as hot-headed and brash as you—and that was saying something. But as your you-appointed new best pal, he resigned himself to making sure you didn't piss off the wrong people.
Though it was a nice change of role, seeing as he wasn't the loose canon for once, he couldn't help but begin to grow significantly concerned for your safety.
It wasn't that you were a bad person, far from it, in fact.
Always greeting him with a sweet mornin', Logan!
Always checking up on him after missions.
Always inviting him to "sparring sessions", which would inevitably turn into you two striking up conversation about anything and everything under the sun.
Not to mention you were a humongous flirt—Jean called it being "overly friendly".
She noted that you didn't flirt with any other guys like you did him.
You always gave him those cheeky smiles that seemed to irk him to no end, and put that flirty lilt in your voice when you spoke. Not to mention the constant compliments, which would stick with him for days, sometimes weeks.
But that all stopped about a week ago.
After a day of you acting incredibly off—no jokes, no laughter, little talking—Ororo said you suddenly came down with a "spring cold", but that you'd be up and at 'em soon.
Well, soon hadn't come yet, and Logan hadn't heard anything from you in days.
A spring cold couldn't last this long...
Was it the flu? Was it something else?
And why did everyone else seem so unbothered by it?
These thoughts swam in his head every time he passed your locked door.
Until he finally had enough.
The night everyone went out for a field trip to the county fair, Logan stayed back, opting to visit your quarters with a few choice words, and a container of chicken noodle soup.
When he reached your door, he gave it a soft rap.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
Only after a third—more aggressive—knock, did you finally answer.
"Yeah?" you called, your voice low and croaky.
He'd never heard you sound so defeated, and almost... pained.
It made something pang in his chest.
"That must be some cold," he quipped, attempting to play off the feeling with humor.
"Logan?" you asked, sounding shocked. "What are you... What do you want?"
"I just came to give you some soup. Jean told me it's good," he answered, glancing down at the bag in his hand. "S'been a while since I've heard from you."
He waited for a response, but when you never gave one, he began to feel stupid.
This was a mistake.
"Look, I can just leave it outside the door if you don't wanna—"
"No," you interrupted, still sounding strained. "You can come in. Just leave it on my dresser."
A little confused by your tone, he entered nonetheless, boots clicking against the hardwood.
And what he found was concerning.
Your room was a mess—furniture askew, clothes and empty water bottles discarded on the floor, a rumpled mess of sheets on the bed.
The smell in the air was thick with sweat and something else. He looked toward the king-sized bed where a heap sat hunched underneath the sheets
"(y/n)?" Logan called, brows furrowed with confusion and worry as he placed the bag on the dresser.
"Don't come over here!"
You sounded so distressed, in such discomfort.
What's going on?
Why did you sound like you were in trouble?
Ignoring your warning, he slowly stalked closer to the bed, taking slow, tentative steps—now able to hear your soft whimpers and grunts of pain.
"(y/n)?" he questioned, firmly.
You stirred, reacting to his voice, breathing raggedly as if you couldn't get any air in your lungs.
"(y/n), what the hell is going on?" he demanded. "Whatever it is, I can help."
But you turned away, the sheets shifting with you.
"You can't," you whined, "You can't."
Patience running thin, Logan stormed over and snatched the sheets off of you. And there, under the covers, he saw you with his own two eyes.
You were curled into yourself, tail significantly fluffier than he remembered, and ears droopier than he'd ever seen.
Through your thin tank top, he could see your nipples were hard and perky, the shorts you were wearing barely covering your ass cheeks.
'Goddamn...'
When you looked at him, your face flushed red, pupils dilated beyond belief as you covered your face with embarrassment.
You trembled in your skin, tail twitching with discomfort and unease.
"I told you not to come over here," you panted, curling further into yourself. "Didn't want you to see me like this..."
You winced, squeezing your thighs together tight, looking to be in complete agony.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I'm in heat," you sighed, the cat pretty much out of the bag. "S'cause of my mutation. I can do everything a rabbit can, and go through everything a rabbit goes through. No matter how fucking stupid."
You wiped the sweat off your forehead, your curly hair soaked in it.
"S'why I've been hiding," you explained. "I've been tryna get through this, but I just... can't!"
Now he understood.
Your absence, your uneasiness, the smell of something in the air.
You were horny.
"How long's it last?" Logan curiously asked.
"Depends. Could be a week, could be a month..."
"A month?" he stated, surprised. "Are you in pain?"
Your face screwed tight, triggering something in his core.
"Yes," you groaned, hugging yourself closer.
You looked away from him, appearing so utterly humiliated and ashamed that it pained him.
He had to help.
"What can I do?" he suggested.
You turned to him, eyes widening. "What?" you asked. "What do you—"
"I wanna help you, cottontail," he cut in, already kicking off his boots and taking off his leather jacket to reveal his sexy, white wife-beater. "So tell me what I gotta do."
You watched him, looking completely stunned and mortified, but your pussy throbbed at the sight of his outfit.
"No, no, Logan," you protested. "Y-You can't... you don't need to do this."
But he stood firm in his decision, refusing to leave you.
"I know I don't need to," he firmly responded. "I can't let you go on like this."
"It's okay..." you assured. "It'll probably be done by the end of the week. You don't—"
Before you could even finish, his hand grabbed your face, pulling you close and squeezing your cheeks, his tone demanding.
"Don't protest. Don't argue. Don't push me away... Just let me take care of you, alright?"
His gorgeous brown eyes, filled with the promises of safety and acceptance, bore into yours.
How could you deny him?
"Okay," you caved, leaning into his touch.
"Good girl," he cracked a smile, lips suddenly swooping yours up in a firm kiss.
You let out a soft, eager moan as he scooped you up in his arms, the man letting out a quiet chuckle when you squeaked, your feet dangling off the ground.
While still kissing you, he sat himself down on the bed and plopped you in his lap. His soft lips and tongue made you squirm in his lap, brushing yourself against his quickly hardening cock in his jeans.
"Can I touch your ears?" he whispered, breathless. "'N' your tail?"
Gently, his hand moved down to your ass, caressing your cotton tail. Your toes curled, your body tingling from the sensation.
"Y-Yes," you shakily replied. "Go ahead."
And when his fingers began to lightly brush and stroke your bunny ear from base to tip, you nearly had a full body orgasm, your pussy growing wetter with each pass.
"Fuck..." you gasped. "Yes, just like that..."
Logan smirked as he watched your face contort in pleasure, his ego growing with each whimper.
"Like that?" he asked, teasingly, his cock throbbing at the sound of your pitiful whine in response.
Over these past few months, he'd had countless dreams about having you just like this. And now that he was, he could say with certainty that it was far better than any fantasy.
Gently, one of his big hands slid down between your thighs to pet your pussy through your panties, while the other continued to stroke your ears.
Your mouth fell agape, pleasure coursing through you.
"Oh, fuck," you moaned, tilting your head back as his fingers ghosted over your clit.
You began to shamelessly grind your pussy into his fingers, turning Logan on even more.
"Needy little thing..." he chuckled, amused. "Adorable."
Under his firm gaze and insistent fingers, you nearly came apart at the seams. But before you could, he pulled away, scooping you up with one arm, much to your surprise and arousal, and sliding himself further down the bed.
With a grin, he dropped his head into the pillows, shifting and forcing you to hover over his face.
"M'gonna taste you, now," he stated, as if it was a fact.
You whined in response, moving to grab the headboard as he pulled your panties to the side, giving your pussy a quick peck before completely dropping you on top of him.
"Logan!" you half-moaned, half-screamed, eyes blown wide with pleasure.
You tried to brace yourself, but it wasn't long before he made you a writhing, whimpering, whining mess.
"Ah, Lo, yes!" you cried. "Oh, fuck! Right fuckin' there! Right fuckin' there!"
You were loud and vocal, much to his enjoyment.
He was having the time of his life, massaging your ass and sucking your wet pussy, your juices dripping down his chin.
He even groaned and grunted into your pussy about how good you tasted, only making you wetter at seeing such a stoic man lose his shit over you.
"You want a finger, baby?" he growled, voice slightly muffled. "Talk to me. Tell me what chu want."
"Please," you whimpered. "Fuck me, Logan! Make me come!"
Logan smiled, slowly inserting one of his thick fingers into your hole while his lips gently sucked on your clit.
You nearly screamed, bawling at the pleasure.
"Oh, my God!" you sobbed. "Shit, Logan, I'm gonna... I'm gonna.."
Your orgasm slammed into you without a second thought, drawing a string of slutty moans out as you came all over Logan's tongue.
"That's my good girl," he smirked into your pussy. "So fuckin' good f'me."
Your orgasm was so strong that you began to tremble, the aftershocks taking over your body.
The release helped with the pain... but it still wasn't enough.
You needed more.
Suddenly, he took hold of your chin, staring into your eyes as if he could peer right into your head.
"Do you want more?" he asked, cockily.
Slowly, you nodded, tears pricking your eyes at how much to needed this.
"Yes, Logan," you pleaded, your arousal making you bold and unashamed in your need to be fucked. "Please give it to me. I don't care how you take me. Just please..."
That was all he needed to hear.
He gave you exactly what you wanted and more. The man fucked you, and he fucked you good. He gave your little body everything it needed to knock out those horny thoughts and relieve you of your heat.
In almost every position, too.
He fucked you in missionary while standing up, his hips pistoning into yours while your feet dangled in the air, his hands pinning your thighs apart and making you take each deep, long, slow stroke that had you seeing stars and frantically rubbing your clit watching his handsome face contort in pleasure.
He fucked you while standing up, your little body bouncing in his arms as you fucked you up and down on his cock, your arms wrapped tight around his neck, your tits pressed flush against his pecs, and your lips locked with his in a passionate, sloppy, wet kiss.
He fucked you on your side, his big body curled around yours and his cock nestled between your ass cheeks before sliding inside you again, your leg hiked up to get deeper.
He fucked you on all fours, using your ears to pull you back on his cock, your back arched and ass stinging from random spanks while he pounded into the deep, wet heat of your pussy that squeezed and griped him for dear life. When you tried to rub your clit, he smacked it away and rubbed your pussy for you.
“Uh-uh,” he growled. “No touching what’s mine. All you need to do is cum. Can my little bunny do that?”
You didn't even answer—you couldn't. But your loud moans and sobs bouncing off of your walls are all the answers Logan needs as he fucked you faster, harder, making your clit sing and pleasure zip through you.
When you felt your last orgasm of the night zip through you, you let out a broken whimper and came all over Logan's cock.
Triggered by your orgasm and sweet little sounds, Logan gripped you tighter and pounded into you without mercy, until he finally released, too.
“Oh, fuck!” he gasped, his loud groans and grunts echoing throughout the room, triggering another mini-orgasm that made your pussy quiver and drip down your thighs.
Logan came deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. He even had enough to give you on your ass, pulling out to spray your perfect cheeks with more of his seed, pumping his cock furiously behind you.
A smile stretched across your face as the aftershocks began, practically melting into the sheets.
You were sweaty, winded, soaked, tired, and covered in cum...but you’d never been more satisfied or happier in your life.
Logan finally settled down beside you, turning you over to face him. He gave you a small smile, his face hot with stray hairs sticking to his forehead.
“Better now?” he murmured, gently stroking down your back.
You wordlessly nodded, a small, tired hum leaving your lips.
“Good,” he nodded, pressing a kiss into your hair. “Get some rest.”
And just like that, you were out like a light, softly snoring into his chest, your body curled into his side.
You couldn't wait for next spring...
#james howlett#james howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#mcu#mcu x reader#wolverine x reader#x men#x men x reader#wolverine
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