#thankfully i was not in this one long enough for that to occur

[monster-noises]

Also i Gotta tell ya'll about this one dream i had last night...

Or at least a part of it cause like

Disregarding everything else that was already pretty surreal, this was just.. flabbergastingly strange?

Me and the group i was with walked into like.. a fun house type situation, and found ourselves in a short bright yellow hallway with kinda dingey lighting and on the walls were these little glass panels

And behind each panel was a box with its own top-down light

And a little miniature bathtub.

Each bathtub with filled with a different kind of soup. And as you walked past and viewed each window the tub would drain the liquid portion of its contents, leaving behind any solid chunks. The box would then go Completely black, and the tub would be full again when the light came on.

Each little window had a placquard next to it explaining what kind of Soup was in there in the same way a museum has artists statements next to displayed pieces.

They were all also like.. two feet off the ground so you really had to bend down to see 'em.

It was Very bizarro Backrooms vibes

Which is exactly what I said to my companion and then Immediately woke up.

[kisu-doodles]

Thinking about Scott having Focal impaired awareness seizures (which occur occur on one side of the brain) due to his brain injury not only affecting his mutation but contributing to epilepsy. Unlike tonic clonic seizures (the ones where people jerk and seize up) focal seizures can be hard to notice and can often come across as the person daydreaming or being drunk.

When Logan first meets Scott he just thinks he’s being an asshole when while Logan’s having a conversation with him, Scott stops talking and stares at Logan for 3 minutes which irritates Logan so he shoves him away and storms off, leaving Scott confused as to why Logan just disappeared mid convo and why he’s on the floor in a panic.

Scott was only diagnosed with epilepsy when he came to live with Xavier was immediately able to clock on when he was having a seizure hwat with being a telepath.

When he was living at the orphanage, the staff just assumed he was inattentive and stupid because he’d seem to daydreaming and would sometimes seem confused when asked a question and answering with slurred gibberish, so he’d often get detention.

the other kids thought he was a weirdo because he’d start picking at his clothes and wandering around aimlessly.

Thankfully after coming to live with Xavier he was finally medicated and what Logan thinks is him being a health freak with his keto diet is actually to help manage his epilepsy. So the incidences are significantly reduced compared to when he was a kid though they are still triggered when he’s stressed or hasn’t slept which Scott being Scott is more often than not

Jean ofc was always able to tell when he was about to have a seizure and often calms him down telepathically when he becomes panicked or confused because it’s not a good idea to restrain or touch him during a seizure having nearly broke his hand when he lashed out against jack winters who thought it was a good idea to manhandle him when he took to long to answer a question, fortunately for jack he turned into his diamond form but Scott still broke his nose

Scott is reticent about telling Logan about his epilepsy because he feels he gets enough judgemental nonsense from him (Jean is like are u serious)

Logan finds out anyway when they’re on a mission together that ends with them being taken captive, their gear being taken away meaning Scott doesn’t have access to his medication. The stressful situation leads to Logan assuming Scott is going crazy when he starts wandering around the cell and trying to take his clothes off including his visor! Logan also notices that Scott’s scent starts to change like it sometimes does before Jean or hank start asking Scott if he’s alright

It doesn’t occur to Logan what might be going on until Scott falls to the floor and starts having a ‘classic seizure’ (in severe cases a partial seizure can spread to a generalised seizure affecting both parts of the brain). Logan’s immensely grateful hank forced him to do the mandatory first aid course because his first instinct was to pin Scott down to get him to stop, when Scott comes to he’s exhausted and just replies never had one of those before.

After Logan has unofficially included himself in the Scott summers seizure watch much to Scott’s chagrin because he’s fine now and Jean keeps giving him an I told you you should have told him look but secretly he thinks it’s kind of sweet

[michelle-is-writing]

Unsuspecting Suspect, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.2k~

In movies, the "pregnant women always have to go to the bathroom" is a popular joke to use. However, what most people don't realize is that the joke is highly played down. What you see in movies is nothing compared to what really occurs.

What really occurs is getting up from bed after only five minutes of getting comfortable to go to the bathroom for the fiftieth time that day. Not to mention you've become so used to the bathroom that you don't even have to turn the lights on or anything - you already know where everything is. Plus, if you're me, then that also means picking up your husbands lazily discarded pants that are crumpled up on the floor with his gun and all of his badges still hooked on there just so you can wash your hands.

"Spencer, I know you've worked long and hard," I start, picking up his wrinkled slacks from the bathroom floor. "But if your pregnant wife has to continue bending over and picking up your pants every time she has to use the bathroom because your daughter seems to think my bladder is a punching bag," I begin taking everything off of his belt. "Then I might just have to use you as a punching bag."

"I'm sorry!" I hear him apologize from the bedroom, an ounce of laughter behind his voice. "I forget and just leave them there - I'm sorry!" Spencer repeats himself, making me bite my lip from laughter. He has eidetic memory, and yet, he still 'forgets' his pants when he takes them off everyday he comes home from work.

Taking his badge off his belt and placing it on the counter, I begin dismantling everything else as well. The last thing to remove is his gun and holster, and with this clunky thing, I try as hard as I can to not let it make a sound as I put it on the countertop. Spencer has been very quiet for the past few minutes, and if he's fallen asleep, I don't want to accidentally wake him up.

I just hope he's not quiet because he's worrying himself sick. As of lately, he's had a stalker that the BAU can't seem to figure out who they are. They know they're male, going by the style of handwriting, and they know he has a pattern. Every Tuesday, a letter is sent to Spencer's desk at the BAU, and yet, there's never a return address or fingerprints to go off of. Today was Tuesday, and for some reason, Spencer didn't receive anything. It worried Spencer a lot, but I'm just hoping the stalker has given up; however, his previous letters show no sign of him doing this which makes this all more worrisome.

"No, no, please," I hear Spencer's voice from the bedroom once more, making my eyes go wide as I quickly catch onto the fright and panic in his tone. Who is he talking to? Especially when I've been in this bathroom no longer than five minutes, and I didn't hear a phone ring or anything.

"You are Spencer Reid," My ears catch a very unfamiliar voice, causing me to fully come to a halt with Spencer's revolver still in my hand. Who the hell is in my house? And how the hell did they get in?

Silently padding over to the bathroom doorway, I try as hard as I can to crack open the door enough to see who's in our house. As I do so, I feel my heart beat a mile a minute, and the little girl in my stomach still hasn't given up on her kicking assault. "Your birthday is October of nineteen-eighty-one. Your mother,"

The man pauses to laugh, appearing as if he were trying to mock Spencer; I take this chance to open the doorway as much as I can without alerting the man, and thankfully, it seems to be a success. "The poor old broad can't decipher through her own mind - never has been able to," The man continues. "Finally, you turn eighteen, you send her away, and you go on to live your own life in college and, soon enough, the BAU,"

Slowly peeking around the corner, I see the man talking to a very wide-awake Spencer with his gun raised at him, no mask concealing his face. Instead, his entire body is covered in black material spanning from a dark turtleneck all the way down to pitch black slacks and charcoal boots. Yet, his head and face are completely visible to anyone who sees him, and going by the fact that he's doing such a thing, he thinks he's going to get away with it and not get caught. Not on my watch.

"You've spent- no, wasted! Wasted nearly eleven years of your life on a job that prevents you from actually having a life!" At the mans words, I squint my eyes while readying Spencer's gun in my hands. "Face it, doctor Reid - you are nothing! I am smart - we are smart! But you have married yourself to your job that doesn't need you; it needs me," with that, the man pauses once again, but this time, he begins to pant, obviously worked up over what he's been saying. This guy has to be one of the most conceited guys to walk the earth.

"Now," The man states, leveling his eyesight with the gun once again. "Was there anything I missed?"

At this point, I come around the bathroom corner with Spencer's gun raised at the man. Through the sights, I see the two small pieces of metal lining up with the mans head, and in my peripherals, I see Spencer warily nod his head as he glances over me with extreme and utter nervousness.

"Uh, y-yes, actually," my husband answers, swallowing down his worry as the fate of his life rests at the tip of my fingers. Now that I think about it, if it weren't for Spencer's bad habit of leaving his pants in the middle of the bathroom floor, I wouldn't have the ability to save him right now.

Just as the man turns around, I line up the sights with his head once again as I pull the hammer back, the trigger following soon after. Watching as the man quickly goes down with no life left in him, only slight convulsions surging through him now, I slowly let my hands fall back to my side as the realization of what just occurred passes through me. I just shot someone... someone who was threatening my husband's life, but still! I've never done that before, and I never want to have to do it ever again!

Within a few moments of my eyes widening in shock, I feel Spencer take me into his arms while slowly taking the gun out of my hand and tossing it onto our bed. "You did so well, love," Spencer assures me in my ear, making me slowly sit on the ground with him as shock runs through me. I'm so stunned by what just happened that I can barely breathe. "You did good, baby, you did so good. I'm so proud of you."

Despite Spencer's words running through my head, I find myself suddenly gasping as I realize something. "Baby! The baby!" I almost shout, turning my head toward Spencer as my now free hand falls to my thirty-week old bump. "Spence, the-the noise, the noise! Could the noise have hurt her ears?"

Immediately, Spencer shakes his head before moving to place his hand on top of mine, his other hand raising at the same time to wipe away the sudden rush of tears falling down my face. "No, no, she's fine, (Y/n), she's fine," Spencer assures me, gently rubbing his thumb against my clothed belly. "The muscles and amniotic fluid protect her, so when the noise does reach her ears, it's extremely muffled," he further explains, gently taking my face into his hands to turn me toward him. "But I am going to have a medic look over you and the baby when they get here, okay?"

Keeping my eyes on his, I nod before laying my head against his chest, a small sigh falling from my lips. "He was the stalker, right?" I ask Spencer, my eyes flickering up to his face as his hand reaches down to gently card through my hair.

Spencer simply nods. "Yeah, he was," he tells me, making me shake my head. "The way he spoke, it's how he wrote his letters," Spencer further explains, "He was an obvious narcissist with a superiority complex - just like his letters."

That would explain the man's words from earlier and how selfish they all were. Although, what if the cops don't believe us and arrest me in spite of what's been going on? I know Spencer wouldn't have gotten in trouble shooting him as a BAU agent, but what about me?

"Spencer, am I going to jail?" I immediately ask, my eyes growing wide as panic sets in my chest.

"No, no, you aren't, and you need to calm down," Spencer tells me, holding my head to his chest as he kisses my temple. He's trying to comfort me while also preventing me from looking over at the dead man currently lying on our bedroom floor. "You did nothing wrong, that was self-defense, and you protected me as well as save me from the man who was going to kill me, no doubt," he points out, his voice growing softer with every word. "You're awesome, love."

In response to his comment, I find myself lightly laughing with tears rising to my eyes again. That's what I usually tell Spencer when he gets back from a case and they successfully stopped a killer. Even if the case goes awry and Spencer returns home sad or disappointed in himself, I still remind him of my usual compliment. Now, much to my disbelief, the roles have reversed and now it is me who has stopped the bad guy.

Once my breathing is slowed and my panic has settled down, Spencer helps me go back to our bathroom where he makes me stay. Without wasting anymore time, Spencer grabs his phone from his side table and dials the police before walking through the house with his gun in hand to make sure there are no other intruders. Thankfully, there isn't, and Spencer soon returns to the bathroom to take me out to the living room, getting me as far away from the dead body as he can all the while making sure I remain comfortable.

Sitting behind me on the couch, Spencer makes me lie between his legs as I rest my back against his chest, his right hand rubbing soothing circles against my bump while he uses his other to dial up his team. Thankfully, soon of them are still at the office working late when Spencer calls.

"(Y/n) shot the stalker?" I hear Derek's familiar tone over the phone as Spencer explains the situation. As he goes on, the sound of sirens in the distance slowly grow closer, and the only thing I can do is hold a hand to my swollen tummy as our little girl gives the occasional kick to my ribs.

"Yes, directly in the head," Spencer answers Derek with a quick glance over to our bedroom where the dead body remains, the spilled blood from his wound no doubt soaking into floor. I never would have listed 'blood is easier to clean up' as a pro when choosing hardwood over carpet. "She shot like a trained officer."

Spencer's comment warrants a rare chuckle from their boss. "Too bad she wasn't able to help you when you failed your shooting test and needed to retake it," Hotch's voice pipes up from the background, causing Spencer to let out a little 'hey!' in response. In light of the situation, I laugh a little at that. I can remember him calling me after failing it and I had to tell him it was okay. Of course, in his mind, it wasn't.

"I don't fail tests." I remember him telling me, making me laugh. No matter what I said, he still continued on about failing the test, unable to let it go.

"The team will be here in a few minutes, okay?" I hear him tell me, bringing me out of my thoughts and back to the moment. I hadn't even realized he ended the call with his team.

Still, I nod back at him, only a few seconds passing before he's leaning over and pressing his lips against my cheek. "It'll all be okay," He assures me, making me slightly nod with another small shuddered breath. "I promise," He further assures me, sensing my anxiety. "I'd never let anything happen to my hero~"

[chilschuck]

hi there!!! I love your blog!!! I know you’re mainly a Chilchuck girlie, but I saw that you occasionally do Laios headcanons/drabbles, and I’m a massive Laios simp. if you have the time and inclination, would you maybe write about Laios realizing he’s falling for a reader who is also autistic like he is? and they’re both so in love with each other, but they don’t realize it bc they’re both idiots, so the party has to set them up lmao

OBLIVIOUS (IN MY LOVE FOR YOU).

꒰ warnings: ꒱ mutual pining, hopelessly in love silly guys, gn!reader. sfw as always!

꒰ wc: ꒱ 1.3k

✦ i hope this turned out how you wanted it!!! i felt bad that i’ve been doing so much chil and nothing for the others, so i was happy that you sent this request!! i’m not sure how to feel about this, but i’m happy to get something out for you!!! <333 honestly i’m worried this turned out badly, but alas, i feel that way about everything asdfdhgjhk. enjoy lovely!!!!

It was more than obvious to anyone but the two of you, much to the party’s displeasure. The mutual pining between you had been a constant back and forth for what felt like ages, and it was almost humorous how in denial it seemed you were.

Laios always spent time chatting with you before bed, his soft voice carrying so much warmth. You always noted how fuzzy your head felt whenever he’d talk about something he was especially interested in. It was almost heartbreaking to part with him to finally rest, longing to continue the conversation for as long as you could.

Little did the two of you know that the rest of the party had their eyes on you, tired sighs leaving each of them. This was every night now, and the fact neither of you were making an effort to come to terms and admit what you were feeling was beginning to become tiresome.

Chilchuck huffed, head in the palm of his hand. “I can’t believe that this is still going on. I’m tired of it.”

Marcille tutted, but the frustration at both of your ignorances was seeping through. “There’s got to be something we can do. They’re obviously so in love with each other...”

And right she was, with how absolutely enamored Laios had become. He’d never felt this way about anyone, the feeling seeping into his bones slowly but surely. With every smile you gave him, words of encouragement, or even reassuring touches, you made yourself at home in his mind and heart. Laios was content with just the whispered conversations and adventures together, not quite piecing together the entire situation just yet.

Marcille was not so sure that was something to be content with. Izutsumi was also getting fed up with the constant beating around the bush, and Chilchuck was sick and tired of watching this ordeal occur. The three of them had decided that enough was enough, and through gossip-like whispers, they decided on a course of action.

“I’ll try and talk to Laios,” Chilchuck settled, although he wasn’t entirely happy with the idea of helping an inner party relationship unfold. It was even harder to watch the two of you continuously pine after each other blindly, so he chose what he believed was the lesser of two evils. “You two convince you-know-who to get some one on one time with him somehow.”

Marcille hummed, finger tapping her chin. “Maybe we could get Senshi to cook something up just for the two of them, get them on a date of some sort.”

Izutsumi flicked her tail in annoyance at this entire scenario, before giving her own opinion. “Let’s just get them stuck in a trap or something.” At that, the elf across from her shook her head adamantly.

“Although that might work another time, I think setting them up would work best. We’ll all conveniently go off somewhere and leave the two of them to talk it out. Somehow…”

Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to get the two of you alone together. Laios would explain something about a monster your party had encountered earlier, delighted at your interest in anything he had to say. Before he knew it, the rest of the party had excused themselves after dinner, leaving just you and him with a cooked meal and unsaid words hanging in the air.

Even earlier, Chilchuck had decided to try and drill it into Laios’ skull that perhaps coming to terms and admitting what he was feeling wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Grasping for straws, Laios tried to create excuses that what he felt for you was just that of a close friend. There was no way he was falling in love, right? Yet, the look Chilchuck had given him shut him up quickly.

“You think friends just look at each other with that lovesick face you’re always making? And it’s not exactly hard to see just how much you care about them. It’s actually pretty obvious.” The half-foot grit out, floored that Laios still hadn’t figured out just how deeply he had fallen.

Marcille and Izutsumi had a similar problem with you, finding that you were convinced what you felt was just that of a deep friendship, of course you weren’t actually absolutely smitten with the man. Giving each other a knowing look, Marcille continued her prodding.

“I think there’s more to this,” the way she said your name so softly held your attention. “You need to talk with him. Maybe talk through just what you’re feeling.”

So now, as you took another bite of your dinner, you tried to figure out just what you were feeling. Laios was doing the same, and the silence, which was never a problem before, now hung with tension.

Both of you tried to speak, before signaling the other to continue, before giving a light laugh at the awkwardness. It wasn’t that just being in each other’s company was the problem, but more so that there was so much left unsaid.

Laios ran his hand through his hair, giving you that tender smile you had come to love so much. “You first.”

Another laugh left you, before your current train of thought followed through your words. “So I was wondering… Have you ever been in love before, Laios?”

That caught him off guard, swallowing hard before thinking of the right thing to say. “Well… I, uh…” A beat of silence followed as you let him find his words. “I wasn’t sure before today. What about you?”

Trying not to get your hopes up, or have the flame within you extinguished so easily, you smiled. “Same here, actually. I think…” You trailed off, just staring at his rosy cheeks and intent gaze making your heartbeat a little faster. Setting your plate to the side, you bit your tongue for a moment. Talk through what you’re feeling… You can do that.

“I guess I didn’t really realize, but… Lately, I’ve been really eager to be around you.” Your voice tried to fight back the tremors rising within you. Before you could continue, Laios grabbed your hand and gave you that intent expression again.

“Me too! I mean, I always really enjoy our talks. I look forward to them a lot.” He spoke a tad out of breath, trying to reign in how he was feeling. Another beat of silence, followed by the clearing of his throat.

“I think I’m in love with you.” You both muttered at the same time, before the feeling of both shock and excitement coursed through you. There was… no possible way, right? But with that doting smile and lovesick gaze he was sending your way, you began to think he did feel the same.

“Thank the gods,” you whispered, a huff of relief leaving your lips. “I had to have Marcille and Izutsumi make me realize.”

Laios laughed, cheeks flushed with delight. “Yeah, Chilchuck definitely gave me a talking to. I think Senshi tried to help me realize, too. It was definitely interesting.”

Both of you shared light giggles before Laios gently pulled you into an embrace. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, nuzzling into his neck.

“Sorry it took me so long.” He whispered, inhaling deeply, the air leaving him in a content sigh. Your eyes fluttered shut, shaking your head slightly in reply. “No need. That’d mean I’d need to apologize too.”

You pressed sweet kisses to his cheek, to his nose, to his forehead. Laios beamed, intertwining your fingers as he spoke from the heart just what he had been trying to come to terms with. You did your best to do so, too.

Chilchuck, Marcille, Senshi, and Izutsumi all let out sounds of relief at watching the two of you around the corner. Getting both of you to finally realize the extent of your feelings was difficult, but oh so worth it in the end.

“Finally,” Chilchuck grumbled, before scratching the back of his neck. “That only took, what? Forever?”

Senshi grunted, trying to recall just how long it had been. Izutsumi even watched as Marcille rocked back and forth on her feet, a certain sparkle in her eye.

She’d have to get the two of you to be open more often.

— dividers by @/cafekitsune!! <33

[roturo]

BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

INUMAKI TOGE X READER

SUMMARY: meeting up with your old friends sounded like a good idea, turns out lying and saying you and your ex ended up as a friends would include him there, so that was a bad idea of yours.

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, subspace, exes!to lovers, use of curse energy for sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, use of sign language, almost caught, after care, dacryphilia.

Life has been great.

Ever since you broke up with Inumaki things have been just fine. Both of you decided to end up as friends. Which might be awkward between the both of you but when you’re together around other people it wasn’t that bad.

You decided to focus on your training, even though it became a little bit too much to be at the same place with your ex… so you decided to live alone and start a new life. College is a new experience and it has been really fun! Training at home wasn’t as effective and efficient as training with Gojo-sensei and your friends… but, you felt more comfortable this way.

Some days you felt like exorcizing some curse and just walked through the city and found one.

Just for fun.

That’s what Maki told you. ‘Let’s hang out all of us together like the old times! Just for some fun!’

And everything was going great! But you never expected Yuuji to enter next to Inumaki into Maki’s room. You haven’t seen him in like four? six months? It’s been a while…

And to say he looked even more handsome than last time is understandable. Half a year and he grew up. He seemed taller than last time, his shoulders broader, and his hands…

You scold yourself for staring too long at him. His eyes locked with yours and a small awkward silence was in the room. But thankfully, Yuuji couldn’t tolerate silence and proposed to order some pizza and talk about how things have been.

You told them about your new friends at college, how you've been auto-training yourself, and how you felt like a new person.

Inumaki felt nostalgic. Watching you grow up and create a life without him made him sad. Thinking about the old times and how you talked to him for hours about having a family. How you stayed with him even if he couldn’t communicate himself like others, he loved you, and he missed you.

You missed him too, and when Maki asked if you were comfortable right now, even if your ex is literally like less than two meters in front of you, you said, ‘yeah! why not, we didn’t end on bad terms! can’t do people reconnect? I only see him as a friend.’

The biggest lie you ever said.

But the both of you knew those glance you gave each other, you needed the other… So when Maki accompanied Yuuji for the pizza you couldn’t control yourself.

And I mean like you couldn’t control yourself literally, he controlled you. He took his hands off.

‘Follow me.’

Your body was moving without your permission. Following Inumaki to what you assumed was his room. A tingly feeling dressed as nervousness was appearing in the low part of your tummy.

You felt anxious? excited? euphoric?

You missed him so much it was hurting, so when you got inside his room, thinking about if what’s going to occur was correct, you stared at your phone for some second before murmuring to yourself ‘fuck it, it’s fine’ —the first thing you did when you had control back was send a text to Maki.

‘I’m sleeping in another place.’ Maybe she’ll think you didn’t feel comfortable enough and needed to leave.

But maybe that’s not the case. You might sleep on someone else's sheets.

‘Inumaki…’

‘Shh… Undress yourself.’— You wanted to first kiss him, but he seemed eager to have you— and how could you say no? Maybe he wasn’t even controlling you and you were doing it for your own taste.

Feeling vulnerable in front of him— he grabbed you by the waist pulling you closer to his clothes body and started kissing you like a hungry man— You missed his touch and he missed yours.

Coming here wasn’t a bad idea… right?

Wrong.

Your body was sore and twitching of how many times he has made you cum. He’s been eating you out for hours now— with just one word making you cut whenever he felt like it. Making symbols on your pussy of what you suppose it’s his curse marks— Your eyes were full of tears, vision blurry and feeling dizzy.

‘N-no more ‘Inu..’

‘Osaka ‘ Was all he said, keeping a straight face before watching you before continuing eating you out— ‘Squirt.’ Your body shook before your vision turned black and everything felt a thousand times more— his fingers inside of you, slurping your fluids out of you. It was a disgusting mess— but he loved watching you turn into a mess thanks to him. It was his mess.

He never abused so much of his power on you, but this time it was different. He needed you, he wanted you.

Once he felt he got enough of your poor and used pussy, he got up— Watching you trying to keep your eyes open. Makeup ruined, hair tangled and tears coming down your eyes. You felt fucked out— feeling sore on parts of your body you never thought could get sore. Trying to plead for your sanity was met with deaf ears.

He started unbuckling his belt, and turned his middle and ring finger down, making the sign ‘I love you’ before signaling he missed you so much and needed you. Sign language was a common thing between the both of you because of his cursed technique. Just a few words, because it’s like destiny brought the two of you together because in some ways you always knew what the other needed.

He teased your cunt with his dick before inserting it in. You were on missionary, him on top of you while he admired the mess you became. He thrusted inside of you with no warning, your fucked up pussy with no need to make it even more sensitive for you to cum, he just started searching for his release.

When he watched you not even being able to say coherent words, tears just streaming down your face, your eyes almost closed and moans coming out of your mouth was enough for him to cum inside of you. The fucked up image of you— thanks to him— will be forever engraved in his mind. He needs you, he needs to be back together.

He groaned at the feeling of your cunt hugging his cock once he came, his body shaking before laying down beside you. Heavy breathings filling the room, he looked back at you and found you staring at him too. A smile adorned his face, moving his body so he could hug yours— playing with your hair and giving you small pecks he heard a knock on his door. 

He supposed you’re still in a subspace and grabbed his boxers, slightly opening the door so only his face was visible— a confused blushed Yuuji was in front of his door. ‘Inumaki, the pizza is here. We can’t find Y/N though… Do you know where she is?…’

‘Go with Maki.’ Were the words he let out, Yuuji’s body moved without his permission, leaving him alone. 

He looked behind and saw you taking small breaths, your chest going up and down— He smiled to himself, before he grabbed a warm cloth and and started cleaning you up— He searched for some candy he used to have in his room since you were always craving them, he grabbed one water bottle too and repositioned you so your now resting on his pillows. He sat next to you, playing with your hair, waiting till you came back to reality.

Once you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Inumaki staring at you— Eyes full of love while he played with your hair. You moved so your body was not sitting on his bed, you noticed you’re wearing one of his t-shirts and your panties— You supposed he put them on, he touched your arm and gave you some water and your favorite candy. You looked back at him— surprised he still had some of them here, you smiled at him and drank some water.

You didn’t notice he grabbed a notebook and was writing something until he gave it to you.

‘Can we get back together? You’re all I need, all I love. I would kill any curse, person, thing who tries to hurt you, everything… just to have you back in my arms.’

[mcntsee]

— ★ tomorrow

↳ summary: “I wasted all those yesterdays, and now,—“ His words trailed off with a sigh, his eyes red-rimmed from hours of tears shed in the hospital, his gaze blurry as it searched for her face, “—What if I am completely out of tomorrows?”

↳ warnings: hospitals, mentions of gunshot wounds, pain, regret, not proof-read. No use of “y/n”

↳ author’s note: This is fluff, I promise the end is really sweet! This is also inspired by different, random, pinterest quotes my friends sent me. Enjoy!

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

No one enjoyed hospitals. The colors lacked vibrancy, the sounds became repetitive after a few minutes, the antiseptic smell was overpowering, the food tasted bland, and the anxious wait for news about a loved one was excruciating.

Unfortunately, the team was all too familiar with hospital waiting rooms, and even more unfortunate was their familiarity with being patients themselves.

Thankfully, the Federal Employees' Compensation Act provided some relief. Without it, they couldn't even begin to fathom the astronomical medical bills they'd be facing.

Tonight, however, finding themselves stuck in the uncomfortable chairs of the hospital waiting room had not been part of their plans.

The young genius's head throbbed relentlessly, a sensation he'd endured for weeks. The unimaginable pressure around his entire head, compounded with the bright light reflecting off the hospital's shiny white walls, the incessant beeping and the sounds of loved ones crying doing nothing other than intensify his discomfort.

The nurse they had bombarded with questions upon arrival had emerged not long ago to thankfully inform them that everything was alright. The surgery had gone well, and she was now in recovery. Soon enough, if they wished, they could stop by her new temporary room and visit her.

By now, most of the team had returned to the office. Hotch had been called back to work to tackle the pending files on their desks. Fortunately, he had allowed Rossi and Reid to remain behind. Ostensibly, their task was to update the team on her condition, but both of them understood that even if that hadn’t been necessary, there was no force on earth that could have budged Spencer from his spot, where he had been stationed for the last however many hours.

Spencer could feel David's gaze piercing through him. He wanted to snap at him, but he knew his current behavior had undoubtedly attracted more attention than just the older agent's. Clutching at his head, tugging on strands of hair intermittently, his leg bouncing up and down, with eyes tightly shut—his agitation was palpable.

“Kid, they said she’s alright. You need to relax.”

It was true, they had been told that, but it did little to reassure him. His mind raced through various worst-case scenarios. Her wound could become infected, or there might be undetected damage to internal organs. He fretted over potential complications like inflammation of the peritoneum, the formation of blood clots, or even damage to blood vessels leading to reduced blood flow to vital organs, potentially resulting in organ dysfunction or failure.

“The survival rate might seem high, but statistically speaking, complications can arise, even with the best medical care.”

“Spencer—“

“For instance, studies have shown that gunshot wounds to the abdomen carry a significant risk of infection, with rates as high as 20%. And there’s the possibility of peritonitis, which occurs in approximately 10% of cases.”

“Kid—“

“Organ damage is also a concern, particularly with injuries to vital organs like the liver or intestines. Even with the most advanced treatments—“

“Reid!”

For the first time since he sat down, his leg ceased its relentless movement. His hand, which had been tugging at the ends of his hair, relaxed and dropped to his lap, along with the hand he had been waving in the air to explain the statistics. His eyes unclenched, the worry in his brow disappearing as the rest of his facial muscles relaxed.

“What is going on, Spencer?”

The genius's eyes met the older agent's worried gaze with deliberate blinks, adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lights overhead while tuning out the cacophony of noise that surrounded them. “I just— I”

“I never told her and I— I don’t— “ His breathing was uneven, his words tumbling out faster than his mind could keep pace, his mouth struggling to articulate as his chest constricted with anxiety.

A gentle weight settled on his shoulder, its warmth grounding him as it gave a light shake, bringing him back to the present moment and prompting him to pause and take a breath.

“Rossi I- I devoted half my time since meeting her to loving her, only to spend the other half hiding it from her.”

With a sigh, the formerly retired agent settled down next to the much younger agent, his hands staying on the genius's shoulder as he shifted slightly to find a comfortable position.

Reid's gaze lingered on Rossi's face for a moment before he averted it, focusing instead on the bustling activity in the hallway where nurses and doctors hurried back and forth attending to patients.

“Every moment we shared, every laugh, every smile she graced me with, even in her unconscious gestures—“ His gaze returned to the hallway momentarily before lowering to where his hands rested on his knees. With a quick, almost imperceptible shake of his head, he cleared his throat. “Every time I looked at her, the words swelled in my throat. I longed to tell her how much she truly means to me, the happiness and peace she effortlessly brings into my world.”

“To tell her that I love her. That I have for a while now.”

David’s mouth opened, but before he could utter a word, Spencer's pointer finger shot up in the air, silencing any impending speech. It hovered there for a brief moment before his whole palm opened, effectively halting whatever words David had intended to say and then dropping back down to his lap.

“Every single time, I held back. I stopped myself from reaching out to her, from letting my true feelings spill out, from whispering all the things I desperately wished she knew.” His words cracked along with his voice as he, for the first time, admitted aloud feelings he had hidden for so long. “And with my heart pounding in my ears, I always just watched her, silently promising myself, ‘Tomorrow. I’ll tell her tomorrow.’”

“I wasted all those yesterdays, and now,—“ His words trailed off with a sigh that escaped his lips, his eyes red-rimmed from hours of tears shed in the hospital, his gaze blurry as it searched for the older man’s face, “—What if I am completely out of tomorrows?”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Spencer's admission hanging between them until the ringing of a phone shattered the stillness. With a sigh, Rossi reached into his pocket, retrieving the vibrating phone and glancing at the contact name.

“She’ll be okay, kid.”

With one final, reassuring squeeze to his shoulder, the older man rose to his feet, his knee cracking audibly as he turned to leave. Despite his efforts at reassurance, Spencer's profound anxiety remained largely unchanged.

He felt utterly helpless, his mind desperately grasping for solutions, for the comforting embrace of statistical analysis with its reassuring numbers. But instead, there was only silence. For the first time in his life, his mind was empty, devoid of answers, devoid of the usual cacophony of thoughts and calculations.

He couldn't recall the moment the nurse returned to inform him that he could visit her, nor did he remember following the nurse into the room and settling down beside her bed.

He cast restless glances around the room, his eyes darting from one piece of medical equipment to another, then flitting to the walls and ceiling. His gaze moved incessantly, pausing only briefly before moving on, taking in every detail. Except for her.

Alone in the quiet with her, he couldn't bring himself to meet her frame. To look at her now would make everything feel too real, and his heart was already heavy with pain.

His body felt like it was betraying him. Breathing became labored, thoughts fragmented, and the pain in his heart seemed insurmountable.

He wanted to tell someone— no, he wanted to tell her, but he knew she wouldn’t have a solution like she always did. So he sat there, his hands nervously tugging at strands of hair, eyes squeezed shut against the overwhelming cacophony of beeping machines surrounding them.

His heart weighed heavily in his chest, burdened by the weight of pain, regret, and fear. It was a sensation he never wanted to experience again, a darkness that threatened to engulf him entirely.

Throughout the night, nurses came and went. Some spoke to him, gave him updates on her condition but he didn’t listen. He tried, he just couldn’t understand it.

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, he reluctantly turned his gaze toward her bed. His eyes lingered on her hand, once so delicate and warm in his, now adorned with tubes and wires connecting her to different machines.

With a heavy sigh, his eyes remained fixed on her hand as he leaned forward, feeling the strain in his back from hours of immobility. With gentle care, he reached out and clasped her hand in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles over the back of it, mindful of the wires and tubes.

He remained still for a moment, relishing the warmth of her hand in his before allowing his gaze to travel up her arm, eyes tracing the patterns of the thin, cream-colored blanket that draped over her midsection when they got there. Then, his gaze shifted to her other arm, positioned protectively over her stomach where the wound lay, as if guarding it from further harm.

He studied the blue hospital gown draped over her body, its hue accentuating the sickly paleness of her skin. He traced every curve, every wrinkle, every wire, everything until his eyes finally met her bruised face.

She looked so peaceful and beautiful, devoid of worry. The furrows that typically marked her brow now absent, her closed eyes darting beneath her lids.

Tears welled in his eyes, the overwhelming emotions washing over him as he gazed upon her form. There was no smile, no gentle words escaping her lips, just a faintly parted mouth and serene countenance.

“Please wake up.” he whispered, his voice raspy from not being used in hours. “Please.” The desperation in his voice was evident in the way it cracked, in the way his chest tightened, in the way his throat constricted.

But she didn’t. Not for two weeks.

The medics reassured the team that she was showing positive signs and was going to be fine. They explained that in cases of severe internal bleeding within the abdominal cavity, it was common for patients to take longer to regain consciousness. "Sometimes, this can lead to hypovolemic shock and reduced blood flow to vital organs, including the brain," said the doctor they were currently questioning, one arm cradling a notepad against his chest while the other gestured towards her on the hospital bed, "which contributes to the prolonged unconsciousness she's experiencing."

Once the team's questions were answered, the doctor turned towards the door, his pen moving rapidly across the notepad as he scribbled something down. Upon reaching the door, he paused, pivoting back to face them. "While I can't predict the exact timeline for her awakening, I want to reassure you that we're doing everything we can to support her recovery." Tucking his pen back into his chest pocket, he scanned the room, meeting each person's gaze before lingering on on the genius’.

"Every individual responds differently to trauma and surgery, and it's not uncommon for patients to take some time to regain consciousness," he said, his tone gentle and reassuring, his kind smile directed at Spencer. "However, I want to emphasize that she's showing positive signs of progress, and her body is responding well to treatment. She should be waking up soon." With a final nod in the genius’ direction, he opened the door and disappeared into the flow of medical staff and patients outside her room.

The doctor's reassuring words and comforting demeanor provided Spencer with a small sense of relief.

As the days stretched on, nearing the two-week mark since her surgery, Spencer's exhaustion was becoming more evident. Dark circles underlined his eyes, his hair unkempt, and he felt the weight of fatigue settling into his bones. Sitting by her bedside day after day had taken its toll, leaving him feeling drained and with a sore backside.

It wasn’t until night, when he was alone with her again that he made a promise. “If you wake up tomorrow, I promise—“ He delicately released her hand, curling his fingers into a fist before extending his pinky finger to link with hers. “I pinky promise,” he whispered, a soft, trembling laugh escaping his lips as he recalled her insistence that a promise was only truly binding if sealed with a pinky. “If you wake up tomorrow, I’ll tell you everything.”

He had made up his mind days ago, swearing to himself that the moment she regained consciousness, he would lay everything bare. He hoped that verbalizing the promise would somehow penetrate her unconsciousness and draw her back to him.

As the night wore on and the room bathed in the soft glow of predawn, his senses awakened to a subtle movement near his head, his mind clouded with confusion as he remained still, trying to grasp his surroundings.

He found himself in a hazy state, unable to pinpoint the exact moment sleep had claimed him, yet the sensation of their linked pinkies lingered, his other hand placed gently on her leg, while his head rested on the bed.

It wasn’t until he felt his pinky being squeezed that Spencer’s senses sharpened, his back straightening with a crack as his eyes snapped into focus on her. The familiar furrow returned to her brow as she squeezed her eyes shut, her free hand instinctively reaching up to rub at her forehead.

His breath caught in his throat, his body frozen as he stared at her, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

“Spence?”

Her voice was raspy, her tone confused as her eyes opened and scanned the room. Without hesitation, he rose from his seat, hands releasing hers as he hurried to the table with the water bottles. He swiftly grabbed one, unscrewing the cap as he returned to her side.

She struggled to lift herself up on her elbows, her eyes tracking his movements, fixated on the open water bottle as he presented it to her. With a gentle nod from her, he brought the bottle closer, tipping it carefully as it reached her parched lips, his other hand positioned beneath her chin, ready to catch any droplets that might escape.

After consuming almost half of the bottle, she gently pushed it away from her lips, taking a moment to swallow the last gulp before lying back down.

He remained in a state of shock, his mind racing faster than it had in weeks, attempting to process the moment as he observed her shifting, striving to find a comfortable position.

“Spence?”

“You—” he began, his words trailing off as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. “You are awake.”

At his words, a gentle smile, the one he had longed to see for weeks, graced her lips. She nodded in acknowledgment as she looked at him. Without hesitation, he moved forward, enveloping her in a tight embrace, being careful not to hurt her. "You're awake," he whispered softly, his face nuzzling into her neck.

He knew he was supposed to call a nurse in —something the staff had reminded him of repeatedly— , but in that moment, he couldn’t bear to let her go. So, he held her tighter, his arms enveloping her as if protecting her from everything, his hand gently cradling the back of her head, thumb tracing soothing circles as he drew her closer.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he released her from his embrace, his body reluctantly withdrawing from her warmth. His hands remained, tenderly cupping her face as he gazed into her eyes, memorizing every detail of her being.

"I have to tell you something," he whispered, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The familiar nerves and doubt flooded back, causing his heart to race so fast that he knew that if he had been the one hooked up to the machines, medics would have surely burst into the room thinking someone was having a heart attack.

He hesitated, his eyes lingering on her face, absorbing every detail illuminated by the gentle glow of the sun filtering into the room.

In his hesitation, his mind revisited every memory he shared with her. He recalled the moments he wanted to confess but held back, as well as his conversation with Rossi. Then, the memory of their pinky promise last night resurfaced, reminding him of his commitment. He couldn’t break a pinky promise.

“Spencer?”

“I love you.” There. He said it. His gaze lowered in fear of rejection, the nerves in his stomach growing, but he kept going, he had to. “I am so unimaginably in love with you.”

“Spencer—“

“No, I need—“ he paused, his eyes brimming with unshed tears, gazing still fixated downward as he cleared his throat from the imaginary knot that was beginning to form there. “I need you to know that every time you smile, every time you laugh, every time you talk to me, it’s like my whole world lights up.”

“And when you look at me, it’s like everything else fades away, and there’s just you.” With a deep inhale, he squeezed his eyes shut, colors swirling behind his eyelids from the pressure, before slowly exhaling and looking up to meet her gaze. “I can’t even scientifically explain how you make me feel. There is no book, or research article that explains what you make me feel.”

One of his hands left her face, gesturing through the air as he attempted to explain everything without the safety net of statistical knowledge. “Every time I’m near you, it’s like my heart speeds up so much that, scientifically speaking, I should be dead.” The quiet chuckle that escaped her lips reached his ears, easing the tight lines on his forehead as his lips formed into a gentle smile. “But it doesn’t matter, because being near you makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before.”

“Every little thing you do, it just… it makes me fall more and more in love with you.”

“God, I’ve loved you for so long.” His hand halted its relentless movement and lowered to push the hair out of his eyes before running down his face with a grunt of frustration.

"I've fought multiple inner battles trying to tell you how I feel, only to back down at the last minute, silently promising myself that I would do it the next day."

Her eyes softened at his words, her lips pulling into a sad smile as his remained parted, eyes teary as they left her gaze and focused on his lap. “And then you got shot and I—“ The memories of everything that happened in the last two weeks rushing back to him. "I thought I had run out of next days.”

Her hand, which had been holding his against her cheek, shifted gently, cupping his cheek and wiping away the tear that had managed to escape his eyes.

With a sigh, he looked up to meet her eyes again, his own free hand coming up to hold the hand she now had on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, his head resting against her hand as she rubbed soothing circles against the stubble that had appeared after weeks of not shaving. “I adore you.”

His face inched closer to hers, resting his forehead against hers. "I’m fine with whatever you want as long as I'm able to have you in my life," he whispered, his warm breath brushing against her skin. "I love you so, so much. Always." With that, their foreheads separated and his lips moved up to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead.

The room fell silent, his words hanging in the air as she processed them. After another second, Spencer moved, standing up and letting her know that he was going to go get a nurse before quickly disappearing.

The nurses flooded her room with warmth and care, each one exuding kindness as they attended to her needs, explaining her situation, answering questions, and expressing relief that she was recovering well.

Spencer stood patiently by the door, his shoulder leaning against the frame as he observed the nurses with gratitude, thanking them as they left after ensuring everything was in order.

As the last nurse made her way to the door, she slowed her footsteps, casting a reassuring smile at Spencer. “I told you she’d be alright, sweetheart,” she said with a gentle tone.

Marisa, the lovely old nurse, had not only been concerned about his best friend’s well-being but also his. The genius could confidently say that, had it not been for Marisa, he probably would’ve starved in that hospital chair.

She would often stop by during her morning shift, offering reassurance that she would be alright, often bending a few hospital rules to make Spencer more comfortable, providing him with the comfiest blankets, or allowing him to take showers in the bedroom’s bathroom so he wouldn’t have to leave her side.

She also insisted on him taking breaks to get some fresh air, eat proper meals, and change his clothes, assuring him that if anything happened, she would call him immediately.

With a comforting squeeze to his arm, the nurse left, closing the door gently behind her and leaving the two of them alone in the room.

As he settled back into the familiar chair, their eyes met once more, exchanging a silent understanding. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, relishing each other's presence. Eventually, Spencer broke the quietude. "I should call the team," he suggested softly.

He rose from the chair, his hand diving into his pocket to retrieve his phone. With his back turned to her, he scrolled through his contacts, his foot shifting slightly as he prepared to step away.

Before he could get far, his movements halted by the touch of her hand on his arm, he lowered his phone and turned back to her, meeting her gaze with curiosity. "Wait," she said softly. With a nod, he returned his phone to his pocket, yielding to her gentle tug until he found himself seated by her side on the bed.

A grunt of discomfort escaped her lips as she struggled to sit up, reaching out for his hand for support. Once she was upright, she shifted closer to him. “What are- oomf—“ before he could finish, his question was cut off by the sudden press of her lips against his, her hands gripping the back of his head.

His body momentarily stiffened, eyes widening in surprise as he tried to process what was happening. When it finally clicked, the initial shock turned into a gentle surrender as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be swept away by the warmth of her lips against his.

With a soft exhale, his hand instinctively rose to caress her cheek, pulling her face even closer to his and deepening the kiss.

If he had ever believed his heart couldn’t beat any faster than when in her presence, he stood corrected. Now, he was certain he was experiencing a heart attack.

His lips moved against hers so perfectly, as if they had kissed a thousand times before, as if their souls recognized each other instantly.

It was perfect, not because it was flawless, but because it felt so real.

He never wanted to stop; her lips were addicting, but when his lungs screamed at him for air, he reluctantly pulled his lips away from hers, resting his forehead against hers as they caught their breath.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

His head jerked back, eyes wide open as he looked at her, scanning her expression, looking for any hint that she was lying, only to find honesty shining through her eyes.

With a laugh, she took his face back in her hands, pulling him closer and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “You have, and will always be the one my heart searches for in a world full of everyone else.”

With a toothy smile, he pulled her lips back to his, chuckling inwardly, as their lips met, acknowledging that if he thought he reached the peak before, he was mistaken again. His heart was racing faster than ever before. A heart attack of a different kind.

A heart attack that he’d gladly experience a million times more.

[mxstellatayte]

landoscar 4+1 kiss things.

alternate title: four times it's casual and the first time it isn't

this one is inspired by @prokrastinartiya's landoscar kissing meme! i saw it, fell in love, BOOM absolutely locked in for an idea :)) (before y'all start telling me it's normally 5+1 I KNOW shhhhhhh i prioritize quality over quantity)

contains: the 4 is mostly fluff but a lil bit of spice, the +1 is straight up smut tho, smut warnings: making out, sub lando, miami gp win, congratulatory sex, L bombs, lowkey a shitty ending bc i don't know how to write endings LOL, just two boys being really in love :)

find the original art post that inspired this here!

taglist: @vivi-81 @irishmanwhore @lucycowr @benstormy @anat33-blog1

@Xoscar03 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @nenamalenaa @champagneproblems17 @marknolee

@toby33b @theendofthematerialgworl @soloqualcosa @sassyinchident808

join my taglist here!

i: the establishing kiss.

contrary to popular belief, oscar's love language is physical touch. he doesn't let it show all that much, but when he feels safe with someone, he doesn't stop showing it.

take lando, for example.

the first time he kisses lando, they're in japan in 2023. the brit is initially confused and a little bit shocked, taken aback by the sudden change in oscar's demeanor, but quickly learns to reciprocate.

lando had been endlessly yapping about something or other, oscar hadn't really been paying attention, but when his engineer poked his head in to summon oscar for a quick check in about potential tyre strategies, oscar stood, pressed a kiss to lando's cheek, and was about to walk out of the room before he heard his teammate short circuit.

"shit, sorry. it was an automatic reflex. is it... was that okay?" oscar had backpedaled, completely ignorant to the flush that immediately flooded lando's summer-tanned skin.

"y- yeah, it's fine, i just... wasn't expecting it."

oscar takes that as permission to continue the goodbye kisses.

ii: on the forehead.

the second time, lando is clinging to oscar's arm in his sleep, the left side of his body plastered to oscar's right and his head resting on oscar's shoulder. they're heading back to the MTC on the team jet after qatar, and frankly, oscar understands lando's exhaustion. the heat that weekend was entirely unbearable to the point where multiple teams, including mclaren, were genuinely concerned for their drivers' and pit crews' safety, and most, if not all, of the drivers had reported feeling unwell in their cars. the fact that he and lando had somehow managed to scrape a double podium together despite the brutal conditions was astounding.

lando shifts a bit in his sleep, the crown of his head resting in the nook between oscar's jaw and his shoulder, and a protective impulse hits oscar like a freight train. he tilts his head just so, pressing his lips to lando's forehead gently enough so that he doesn't wake, instead sighing delicately in oscar's arms and shifting impossibly closer.

oscar lays his head on top of lando's and passes out within minutes, the comforting weight of lando's body on his lulling him into the deepest sleep he's gotten in weeks.

iii: on the cheek.

the next kiss occurs inside the MTC, and this time, it's lando's lips on oscar's skin.

immediately after being released from the team debrief meeting that stretches on, in lando's entirely correct opinion, for an unnecessarily long amount of time, he all but throws himself into oscar's arms, and oscar gladly accepts, wrapping his own arms around lando's waist and burying his face into the soft fabric of lando's hoodie. thankfully, lando had quickly caught on to the fact that reciprocating oscar's physical touch is not only acceptable but also welcomed and encouraged, so he'd begun initiating hugs and slotting himself underneath oscar's arm more frequently in the past weeks.

"hello to you, too," oscar murmurs into lando's hoodie, taking comfort in the feeling of lando's arms around his body.

"'m so happy you're okay," lando mumbles, his face tucked into the crook of oscar's neck between his jaw and his shoulder. "you... you are okay, right?" he pulls back briefly, looking up at oscar with concerned eyes that search oscar's own, scanning for any signs of discomfort or pain but finding none.

"i'm okay. are you?" lando's eyes slip shut with a nod, the most delicate of smiles tugging at his lips.

"yeah, i'm good."

"good." lando pulls back, much to oscar's disappointment, the stale, conditioned air of the conference room replacing the comforting warmth of lando's body almost immediately. sensing that the hug is now over, oscar lets his hands drop, settling awkwardly at his sides.

fuck it, oscar thinks. "you wanna get dinner?"

lando sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. "i don't know, mate, i'm pretty beat. breakfast tomorrow?"

had lando not been focused on noticing how scuffed his trainers are, he would've seen the way oscar's lips fell into his signature pout. instead, he hears a quiet "oh, okay," before looking back up and smiling faintly. "i'll text you?"

oscar sounds like a kicked puppy.

"oh, come here, you muppet." lando's left arm wraps around oscar's shoulders and his right hand holds oscar's chin, his lips on oscar's cheek, and... yeah. that's exactly what oscar needed. "where do you wanna get dinner?"

iv: on the neck.

it's early february, and they're finally back in woking to film some teaser content before pre-season tests in bahrain.

"mm, i missed you," lando says, tilting his head back as oscar mouths at his neck, and oscar hums in response. of course, oscar takes that opportunity to graze his teeth across the delicate skin of lando's neck, which, in turn, makes lando whine.

when oscar pulls back to catch his breath, his mouth goes dry, a stark contrast to the spit-shiny side of lando's neck. the fact that the buttons of his team kit polo are all completely undone and the collar is shoved to the side only adds to it, but his disheveled curls and flushed face really tie it all together with a pretty bow made of the finest ribbon oscar could ever imagine. "fuck, you look beautiful."

"osc," lando whines, and the look in his eyes can only be described as downright pathetic. his eyes are glassy, his lips parted and red from how furiously oscar had kissed them just minutes before, and his chest heaves with the panting breaths he's taking. it's only then that oscar notices- lando's hard.

+i: on the lips.

oscar hasn't really fully processed it yet. lando just got his maiden formula 1 win. he heard it on the radio, the replay of lando's overwhelmed cheers, screaming to his engineer that they did it, they finally did it.

it's only when his lips find lando's long after the podium ceremony, the lingering taste of champagne, sweat, and tears filtering itself onto his tongue, that he realizes just how real it is, and he can't even find it in himself to be mad that he wasn't in the points. "'m so proud of you," oscar says between kisses. "so fucking proud of you." the soft duvet of the hotel room bed wrinkle as lando squirms in an attempt to release some of the pent-up energy from all the adrenaline coursing through his body.

"fuck, osc..." lando's brain short circuits when he feels oscar's hands reach underneath his shirt, calloused fingertips on sensitive skin. "thank you." lando keeps smiling stupidly into the kisses oscar's pressing to his lips, hands scrabbling to grasp at whatever they can. oscar feels like every single sense in his body is heightened, and he's noticing every single detail about every single kiss he feels. the scent of champagne and sweat and lando's skin, the taste of something so distinctly lando that oscar doesn't think he'll ever be able to describe in words, and, above all, the feeling of lando's skin on his. desperate hands grabbing everywhere on oscar's body they can reach, the toned muscle of his abdomen beneath oscar's palms, lando's legs tight around his waist, bringing oscar impossibly closer to the tender skin on the inside of his thighs-

fuck.

he's hard.

"oscar," lando whines, pulling away ever so slightly to catch his breath. "fuck me."

what?

what the fuck?

oscar swears he's hearing things. the roar of engines, wheel guns, and fans' screams have finally gotten to him and he's suffering from either hallucinations or straight up hearing loss.

"what?"

"fuck me, please. there's lube and condoms in the bottom of my suitcase." and... fuck. stronger men have been defeated by less, so there's no way in hell oscar will be able to resist that, especially with how desperate lando sounds.

"where you hoping this would happen?" oscar stands, immediately mourning the loss of lando's body heat, but hastily rummages through the suitcase placed at the foot of the bed, easily locating the bottle of lube and a condom from the bottom of lando's suitcase, exactly where he said they'd be. he doesn't miss the way lando's cheeks flush even more as he nods, hands desperately fumbling to get his shirt off, just to have something to do with them. oscar grins and clicks his tongue, dropping the lube and condom next to lando's hip. "let's get these jeans off, yeah?"

"please." lando's hands fly to his pants, popping the button open and shoving the fly down before shimmying his legs out of the denim. a shuddering sigh pushes past his lips at the release of pressure, and oscar shoves his own jeans down, kicking his and lando's pants off of the bed. there's a faint dark spot on the front of lando's boxers, his erection tenting the fabric, and oscar's sure he looks no different.

"are you sure about this?" there's a nagging in the back of oscar's mind, telling him it's all the adrenaline from lando's maiden win, that this isn't actually what lando wants, that he's going to regret it in the morning... the tone of oscar's voice brings lando out of his haze, clarity returning to the race winner's eyes alongside something else that oscar can't currently pinpoint at the moment.

"do you want to do this?" that's what it is. concern. lando's voice is clear, lacking any of the previous whiny twinge it'd held just moments prior, and his hands come up to gently hold the side of oscar's neck, his fingertips brushing the short bits of oscar's hair. "if you don't want to do this, we can go out and get drunk and forget this ever happened." his eyes search oscar's, his multicolored irises inspecting for any sign of discomfort, hesitation, or uneasiness.

leaving is the last thing oscar wants to do. he knows that much.

with a deep, steadying breath and a shift of his hips- oh, fuck, that was a mistake, because now his clothed dick is laying in the juncture of lando's hip and thigh, and, instead of the thought-out words he was going to say, the only thing that spills past his lips is a moan and a breathy "stay" on the tail end of it. the muscles in his arms give out and he collapses on top of lando, his face tucked into the crook of lando's neck, and when he inhales, lando's fingers already raking soothing rows along his scalp, he smells champagne, sweat, and lando's body wash.

"stay."

"okay, osc. i can do that."

oscar isn't sure how long they lay there, lando's left hand resting in the small of oscar's back and his right rubbing soothing lines into oscar's scalp, but by the time his heart rate slows and his brain stops running a mile a minute, the desperation and speed that he was ready to fuck lando with has sunk out of his body. there's only one problem- well, rather, two problems, but one stems from the other. one: oscar and lando are both still hard. two: neither of them have the energy required for prep, sex, and aftercare.

lando is able to solve both of those problems, though.

"osc?"

"hm?"

"do you want me to get you off?" oscar's face flushes, a whine falling from his lips in embarrassment, but he nods into lando's neck. "yeah?" oscar nods again. "okay, baby. i'm gonna need you to get these off for me, though." he thumbs at the elastic waistband of oscar's boxers, and oscar is barely able to muster enough strength to push himself up and off of lando's chest to pull his boxers off and toss them aside before falling back onto lando. "can you roll over for me, baby?" okay, scratch that. now he summons the last of his strength to roll off of lando, wincing slightly when the long-forgotten bottle of lube and condom dig into his ribs.

"hey." lando's voice has a tenderness to it that oscar's never heard before, used to the constant energy and bubbly laughs, and it makes something stir deep in oscar's chest. before he can prod into it and try to figure out what it might be, though, lando's rolling over and slotting his left leg between oscar's, leaning down, and kissing oscar with a certain softness that leaves every point of contact with lando's body fizzling with electricity. it's a unique and beautifully intimate moment, chests pressed together and bodies touching everywhere they possibly can as hands grasp for places to hold the other closer.

oscar moans into the kiss, high and pathetic, when lando takes both of their cocks into his hand, and even dry, he thinks he could cum just like that.

"oh, fuck, lando-" oscar's eyes are screwed shut, panting as lando continues licking into his mouth, running his tongue along oscar's lips before dipping down to oscar's neck, mimicking the same actions there. lando can't form a verbal response, so he simply hums relishing in the taste of oscar's skin. the aussie doesn't want to admit just how keyed up he is, doesn't want to admit the fact that, with a little bit of lube and a little bit of movement, he'd be cumming onto lando's hand.

thankfully, though, lando seems to be in the same boat, and he makes that very well known with a perfectly timed gentle thrust of his hips forward and a slight loosening of his hand, and the sound that it pulls from oscar's throat can only be described as unholy. "osc..."

"like this, lando, please."

"fuck, me too." oscar jumps slightly when the cold lube hits his cock, but with the slide it adds and the grip around lando's big hand has around them both and the fact that he's completely caged in and every single sense is flooded with lando, lando, lando, the temperature difference is rapidly forgotten in favor of white-hot pleasure. he can't stop himself- his hips are canting up into lando's hand, and it just feels so, so good. oscar's ears aren't processing the difference between his moans and lando's, so all he knows is that there's sounds of sex filling the hotel room, the wet slide of his cock along lando's, and it's so much at once.

when lando's hips start moving, too, fucking into his own fist, oscar throws his head back into the fluffy pillow and groans so loud that he gets a flickering sense of sympathy for whatever neighbors may share a wall with this hotel room, but it's immediately wiped from his brain as lando's lips meet his once more.

oscar isn't sure how much time passes, his lips and tongue gliding along lando's and their hips fucking into lando's hand, but his ears finally process that lando's moaning his name, desperately mouthing at his neck. "oscar, aah, fuck, i'm gonna cum, please, 'm gonna cum-" and, well. oscar didn't think he had a thing for begging, much less a thing for his teammate begging, yet here he is.

"yeah. yeah, go for it. cum for me, baby." before oscar finishes talking, his words breathy and faint, lando's cumming with a cry, his hips shuddering as his cum paints his hand and oscar's cock and stomach in a pearly white. oscar looks down, and the sight he's met with is absolutely filthy. past the mop of lando's curly hair and sweat-shiny skin, he sees the way lando's muscles tense with every thrust and the way his dick is painted white with cum and lube.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, osc, love you, love you so much." and that's what sends him over the edge, muscles in his torso tensing as he grasps desperately at lando's shoulders.

"aah, lan- love you. love you."

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

What is Broken I (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader)

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N), side Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity, some pushing and hitting

Author's Note: It's finally here! Sorry y'all, this month a) I found out my dog has terminal cancer, b) I got covid, and c) my laptop randomly went kaput in the middle of an episode of the West Wing. But it's finally here! As it says on the taglist, this will be a three-part series.

Taglist is done via reblogs

Series Masterlist

What is Broken

It was a lovely night in King’s Landing.

There was not a cloud to be seen for miles, and the stars were bright and twinkling. The waters of Blackwater Bay were calm and reflected the full moon as clearly as a freshly polished mirror. Even the wind seemed in a pleasant mood, carrying the sweet scent of spring on its back as it drifted lazily through the windows of the Red Keep.

Every bit of it grated on her heart like a whetstone across dull steel.

The worst night of one’s life should not be so lovely, she thought. It should be terrible. With storms and an angry sea, and perhaps even a raging fire somewhere in the distance.

If the night had been so, she would not have seen it when, only a few moments ago, a massive winged form landed in the fields just outside the city with a lowing wail, the last person she wanted to see strapped to its back. Thankfully, Aemond was far enough away that she could not make him out against the mass of his mount.

The people would cheer him in the streets as he rode toward the castle. The victorious Prince, returning after long months at war, having not only ended the war itself but avenged the deaths of his eldest sister, brother, and his little nieces and nephews.

Daemon Targaryen and his dragon had perished above the God’s Eye, the waters below boiling when their bodies fell into its depths.

With the Rogue Prince gone, the war was swiftly over. Rhaenyra was killed, her last remaining son taken as King Aegon’s ward, and the royal host returned to King’s Landing victorious. Even Cregan Stark had agreed to halt his advance South, redirecting to Harrenhal for peace talks.

Harrenhal. A cursed place, now to be the site of great diplomacy.

Even thinking about the horrible castle was enough to turn her stomach.

A letter detailing exactly what had occurred within those melted stone halls during the war, written by the late Prince Daemon himself, sat on her vanity. A final act of retribution against his soon-to-be killer.

She knew that her husband was only returning home because of the letter.

My dear Princess, Despite the conflict between our sides of the family, I have always thought you a rather sweet girl. Therefore, it is with the deepest regret that I must now shoulder the burden of informing you of your beloved husband’s improper conduct during this awful conflict…

A pang of nausea shot through her stomach as she remembered the words.

A mistress… some Strong bastard… called Alys, my spies tell me… every night, without fail… from the very first week… another bastard babe in the whore’s witchly womb…

There was a pounding from within her, soft thumps and kicks as the life inside her own womb became unsettled by its mother’s roiling emotions. She laid a hand over her belly, whispering soothing words she did not believe to try and calm it – and herself.

Once, she would never have believed Daemon’s stories. But then word came that, after the final battle, Aemond returned to Harrenhal for less than an hour before he again mounted Vhagar and flew for King’s Landing. It was not like Aemond to make such swift decisions. Nor did it strike her as the action of an innocent man.

When she called for Ser Willis Fell, her heart had been filled with hope that the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard would dispel her worries. That she had only allowed herself to consider the possibility of Aemond’s infidelity because her mind was addled by her delicate condition.

“My princess, I cannot, in good conscience, tell you a lie…”

She had screamed then. And cried. And possibly thrown things at the Kingsguard, but she couldn’t entirely remember.

All she could remember was how Aemond kissed her on the day he left for Harrenhal. Deeply and passionately. Until she could feel his love for her as clearly as her own heartbeat. Then he knelt before her and placed a single, tender kiss to her belly, to where they had only just learned that their babe grew.

Less than a moon’s turn later, he had taken another woman to his bed, and seeded her, too.

Now he was returning home – in haste.

He knew, then. That Daemon had let slip his secret. Perhaps it had even been the Rogue Prince’s last words. Spat in Aemond’s face in the seconds before his body tumbled into the lake below. Had she not been caught in the crossfire, she might have admired it for the masterful manipulation it was.

But in seeking to destroy Aemond, Daemon had destroyed her as well.

She was broken from her thoughts by the distant sound of people cheering. Aemond was making his way through the city more quickly than she thought. The streets weren’t as crowded as she hoped they would be this late at night.

It was late. Far later than she had become accustomed to. These days, she was often in bed and asleep not long after the sun had set, hoping that she would somehow find a full night’s sleep. Never to any avail.

For a moment, she thought of slipping beneath the blankets and pretending to be asleep so she would not have to speak to Aemond until the morning. But he would only crawl into bed with her, and then he would see when she inevitably woke…

That was not a conversation she wanted to have today. Really, there was no conversation she wanted to have with Aemond, only that which must be had.

She was resolved that Aemond would not find her weeping or stewing in heartbreak. No, she would not let him think he held such power over her, even if he did. He always had, even when they were young children.

So, she resumed her nightly routine as though nothing was wrong, as if she was entirely unaffected by his betrayal. Sitting at her vanity, she began to unbraid her hair. Her maids usually did it for her, but she had dismissed them the moment she read Daemon’s letter, not wanting to see their pitying faces for longer than she had to.

Since learning she was with child, everyone – including her maids – fussed over her constantly. It was not without reason, she knew. There was indeed very good reason why everyone was so concerned about her. But after six months, she was tired of it.

Just the simple act of taking her braids out and brushing through her loose hair by herself brought a welcome feeling of independence that she had not felt in some time. Perhaps ever.

That feeling slowly faded away as the cheering and celebration from the city came closer and closer, until she could hear gauntleted hands clapping in the castle courtyard below.

Aemond was here.

Her hand fell to cradle her stomach and was immediately met by three quick thumps against her palm. She knew the child did not understand what was happening and was only responding to the touch itself, much in the same way a cat arches its back when petted.

Still, it comforted her. It made her feel like she was not alone.

“Kirimvossi, rūhossas,” she whispered with a smile before resuming brushing her hair.

Her smile did not last.

Sooner than she had hoped, she heard the clanking of armor as the guards outside her door straightened, bowed, then retreated.

A shiver went through her, stealing the air from her chest while cold gathered in her heart and began sinking to her stomach. Dragging her brush through her hair suddenly took great effort, as did every breath.

Yet it was surprisingly easy to banish the tears forming in her eyes and school her face into tired neutrality. To glance only once at the figure now lingering in the doorway before turning away without acknowledging him.

She did not know if it was strength or cowardice.

He called her name, his voice rasping and low – desperate. “We must speak.”

She did not respond. She didn’t even look at him.

Aemond sighed, calling her name again. “Please, my love. Look at me.”

Still, she did not move.

“Ābrazȳrītsos,” he said, a hint of command slipping into his plea. Little wife.

He had always loved calling her little. According to their mother, the first thing Aemond did when he saw her as a babe was exclaim, “She’s so little!”

Ever since, he’d been calling her little.

First, she was simply hāedus. Little sister.

Whenever she tried to follow Aemond when he went somewhere she wasn’t allowed or did something she wasn’t allowed to do, he would gently scold her, “Haedus, you’re too little.” Inevitably, she would cry. About half the time, her crying was enough to sway him.

Then, she became zaldrīzītsos. Little dragon.

“You’re my zaldrīzītsos,” he would say when she hugged him tightly after Aegon or one of the Strong boys mocked him for not having a dragon. She didn’t have one either, but she never felt she needed one, for she had Aemond.

For a time, she was maegītsos. Little witch.

Aemond had dubbed her so when she came to visit him in the Maester’s tower while he recovered from the loss of his eye. The Maester would give her some “special leaves” so she could brew a “magic potion” to help Aemond get better. In truth, the potion was simply tea. But Aemond always pretended that the potion had indeed worked miracles, just to make her happy.

Once he was healed, she was again zaldrīzītsos.

Since he finally had a true dragon, she worried that he would not want her anymore. When she came to him in tears one day as he was leaving the Keep to see Vhagar, he hugged her tightly and told her, “You will always be my zaldrīzītsos.” Then he brought her with him to ride Vhagar. It was the best day of her life.

Or it was, until the day they were officially betrothed, and she became raqiarzītsos. Little darling.

It was what he would call her every morning when he greeted her with a chaste kiss on the cheek. How he would summon her to his side at court events. What he moaned when they kissed unchastely each evening before saying goodnight.  

She had been so excited when she became his ‘ābrazȳrītsos.’ The first time he had whispered it in her ear at the wedding feast, she’d blushed so brightly that their grandsire inquired about her health. The next time he said it, Aemond made sure they were alone.

Little sister. Little dragon. Little witch. Little darling. Little wife.

Always little.

Once, the names had made her heart flutter with delight. Now, they only prompted another wave of nausea.

Aemond was everything to her – he always had been. She thought he felt the same way, but it seemed she was wrong. To him, she was just “little.”

She flinched at the sound of his voice, of that word. How he spoke to her like she was some frightened animal poised to lash out.

Yet at the same time, her heart melted to hear the voice she loved so dearly after so long an absence. Merely the sight of him in the mirror sent a feeling of warmth and belonging flooding through her.

She hated him.

She loved him.

She was angrier at him than she had ever been in her life.

She wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.

She could do nothing but continue to brush her hair and stare into her reflection.

Aemond sighed, finally stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. “You won’t even look at me, ābrazȳrītsos?”

She gave no answer.

He whispered her name again, “Abrazȳrītsos, please,” Aemond’s voice turned quiet as he reached her and set a hand on her shoulder as if to turn her around by force, but she wrenched herself out of his grip, staring down at the floor. Though she did not look at him, she could almost feel the misery on his face. “Please look at me.”

“If I look at you, I fear I will be sick,” she explained weakly. “I don’t want to harm the babe.”

His irritation began to surge, she knew it even without seeing him. His breathing quickened slightly, and she could hear the creaking of leather as he rolled his shoulders and balled his hands into fists – he had been so hurried he had not yet taken off his riding gloves.

“You are my wife,” he huffed. She could hear him attempt to contain the sharp edge of barely contained anger in his soft voice. At least he was considerate enough to hide it. “You are my sister – my blood. You love me as I love you, and you carry my child within you. Yet you cannot even look at me?”

Fury roared to life like a surging flame within her. How dare he be angry with her when he is the one who ruined everything?

“Why did you come back?” she spat back, quietly yet viciously.

His stare continued to weigh on her through the mirror. “I promised you the day I left that I would return to you when the war was done,” he said, half-smiling at the memory. “The war is over, so here I am.”

She shook her head. “The war is not over.”

“Of course, it is. Daemon and Rhaenyra are dead, and – ”

“The fighting is over,” she corrected. “But the war is not finished. Peace must still be brokered. As Prince Regent, that is your responsibility. Yet you are here rather than with the rest of the soldiers and politicians at Harrenhal. Why?”

She wanted him to be the one to say it.

Aemond sighed, raising a hand to touch her, then pulling away. “Is it so hard to believe that I missed you and simply couldn’t stand to stay away a moment longer?”

She was moving before she could process what she was doing, standing from the vanity and turning to face Aemond, her hand raised and ready to strike.

But he caught her arm by the wrist, stopping her moments before her palm could impact his cheek – his scarred cheek. His eye was wide, filled with sadness and shock in equal measure. He turned to look at her hand as if it was some kind of curiosity he had never seen before, like he couldn’t understand how it could ever be raised against him.

Tears were spilling down her cheeks when he turned back to her, and his expression gave over entirely to despair. Aemond opened his mouth, but words failed him.

He lowered her hand gently, bowing his head slightly to the right to give her an easier target.

It broke something within her.

She dove toward him, wrapping her arms around him as she cried into his chest, clinging to him as if he were her the only thing keeping her anchored to the ground.

But the moment Aemond moved to return the embrace, she shoved him away. It only moved him a step back, still within her reach. He did not move closer, and when she began to pound her fists furiously against his chest, he didn’t try to stop her.

“Why did you come back?” she demanded as she pushed him once more. “Why did you not just stay in Harrenhal with your whore and leave us alone?”

Aemond did not respond. His mouth hung open, but he said nothing. He could do nothing but stare at her, his eye flitting between her belly, where his child had grown –so much he could hardly believe it – in his absence, to her eyes.

Those eyes. A warm, rich brown that shone with gold in the firelight. It was Aemond’s favorite color. For whenever he saw it, in her eyes or their mother’s, he knew he was home.

But now those eyes he loved so dearly were filled with tears of his own making. He wanted nothing more than to see them dry and sparkling with love once more.

“Abrazȳrītsos, you must know I will always return to you,” he begged, stepping forward and cautiously placing a hand on her belly. Almost immediately, he felt a stirring within her, and a weak pushing against him.

His child.

Was it reaching for him, or pushing him away?

Before he could truly ponder either answer, his wife pulled away from him, her arms curling protectively around her abdomen.

He had to say something. Something to take her pain away, to make everything well again so he would have the chance to hold her and the babe. Even if it was a lie, he would say it if it made her forgive him.

“Raqiarzītsos,” he started, only for her to take another step away and scowl at him. He sighed as the realization of how deeply had hurt her truly sunk in. He softly called her name, “My love, it was one mistake. One moment of weakness, I swear –”

“Liar!” Her voice had grown rough with her fury, and Aemond flinched at the sound. He had never heard her shout like that, not even when she was a babe herself.

She saw his discomfort and reveled in it. Seeing him suffer a fraction of what she felt gave her a sinful spark of joy, one that she felt no need to beg forgiveness from the Seven for. She turned away from him and retrieved the letter from Daemon, panting as she looked over the words once more.

“A mistress now lies in your husband’s bed. She was a wetnurse at Harrenhal, some Strong bastard. She must be something truly special, for she is the only Strong – trueborn or bastard – to have survived Aemond’s rather thorough purging of the bloodline. I suppose it is now clear why. I have not been able to learn much about her. She is called Alys, my spies tell me.”

With smoldering eyes, she turned to Aemond and began to read aloud. “She reports to your husband’s chambers every night without fail, as she has done from the very first week he arrived at that cursed place. One of my spies even reported that he calls her to him after each battle or razing of some poor Riverlanders, as well as anytime he feels frustrated. It is no surprise, then, that there is another bastard babe in the whore’s witchly womb. Your brothers do have a fondness for seeding unsuitable women, don’t they?”

When she looked up from the letter, she found Aemond’s face set in anger, his fingers curled as though they were aching to grip his sword and run someone through. His eye flew from the letter to her face, the rage burning there only softening for a moment.

The left corner of Aemond’s mouth twitched upward involuntarily, and he jerked his head to the side to try and hide it. “You would believe Daemon’s word over mine, abrazȳrītsos? After all he has done?”

She let the letter drift back to the table. “If all I had was his word, I would not have believed it,” she explained. “But it is not only his word.”

Aemond exhaled slowly, looking away from her. Incensed as he was, he would not make her the target of his ire. Never her.  “Will you tell me who else?”

“No,” she answered, shaking her head slightly. There was a dark glint in his eye that promised violent retribution upon whoever she would name. No one deserved torture, or perhaps even death, for telling the truth.

With a nod, Aemond closed his eyes and bowed his head. He would not press her further, though she knew he would likely still try to find out who it was by other means. But in that moment, she could not bring herself to care.

She was so tired.

She had anticipated a long fight, and thought she was ready for it. In the hours she waited for Aemond’s return, she had carefully tended the spark of her anger so it would burn only when she commanded. But the moment she saw him, it escaped her grasp and became a wildfire in a dry grassland. It was fierce, quick, and lethal. In an instant, it had consumed every bit of her strength, leaving only the barest smoldering remains in its wake.

After a few more silent moments, Aemond again opened his eyes and looked down at his wife.

“I will not insult your intelligence by trying to deny it any further,” he said, clenching his fist to stop himself from reaching for her, “and I know there is nothing I can say to excuse what I have done. But my love, I truly am sorry. For what I did, and for the hurt I have caused you.”

She stared at him, trying to detect and hint of insincerity. She found none.

“I love you. I know I have given you ample reason to doubt that but…” he swallowed thickly. “I do love you, abrazȳrītsos. I always have and I always will. I know in my heart that the gods made us for each other. And if they had fated us to others, I swear I would have defied their will and ripped them from the heavens so that I could love you.”

He licked his lips and removed his gloves before offering her his shaking hand.

Perhaps it was the result of the weariness pervading her entire being. Perhaps it was the tug of an unborn babe reaching out, somehow knowing its father was near. Perhaps it was the sliver of her soul that had always belonged to Aemond beckoning her to rejoin him and become whole again.

Whatever the reason, despite the protestations of her aching heart and her rational mind, she put her hand in his.

It did not fit as well as it used to.

If Aemond noticed, he did not acknowledge it. He raised their joined hands to his lips to kiss before resuming his plea. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I will understand if you do not give it, but for the sake of my heart and the love we share, I must ask it. Abrazȳrītsos, can you ever forgive me?”

The world fell silent, and so did she.

If she focused, she could hear her heartbeat, along with two others, thumping out three different rhythms. It was discordant, yet somehow comforting. She listened to it for a moment, trying to hear a melody within it. But there was nothing.

She turned her attention to her hand in Aemond’s grasp. There was a welcome heat where his skin touched hers, but also a tingling numbness. A slight discomfort, akin to wearing new gloves before they had softened and molded to her hands.  

Then, she looked at Aemond. At the face that was more familiar to her than her own. It had changed in the last six months – more so than she would have expected. The color of his skin had deepened from so many days spent in the sun, and there were new blemishes that had not been there before. The shadows under his eyes, the roughness where it once was smooth, and the new smudge of a scar above the corner of his right brow.

All of it was strange. Known, yet unknown. Question, but no answer.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“What…” Aemond’s lip quirked again as he cupped her cheek with his free hand. “I don’t understand, what don’t you know, my love?”

She winced slightly at the foreign sensation of his hand against her skin. He had callouses now he didn’t have before. “I don’t know how to forgive you, or if I even want to. I just feel… tired.”

Aemond nodded, bowing his head once more to hide the disappointment he could not keep from his face, and looked at her belly. “Of course, you are tired,” he said, “I am sorry, I did not consider how late it was.”

She caught his eye flicking towards the bed – their bed, or at least, it used to be. A cold coil of panic began to wrap itself around her heart. He could not sleep here. He could not see…

“I would prefer if you slept elsewhere,” she said hastily before he could ask otherwise. “For tonight, I would like to be alone.”

Tears shone in Aemond’s eye for a moment, but he did not let them fall. He gave her a tight smile and again kissed her hand. “If that is what you wish, I will obey, but may I ask one thing?”

It would be foolish to say yes. Foolish to give him the opportunity to persuade her at all when she knew how easily he had always been able to sway her with his sweet words. Foolish to do anything but send him away immediately.

And yet…

“What would you ask?” she whispered, betrayed by the foolish little part of her heart and soul that was still and would always be his ‘hāedus.’

“I ask only for a few moments, and then I will leave, as you wish. But it has been half a year, abrazȳrītsos, since I have seen you, or heard your voice, or held you in my arms.” He squeezed her hand, drawing her attention to his face, open and earnest and pleading. “So for only a few moments, please, allow me to hold you again.”

His softly spoken words were like a siren’s song, and she began to feel faint as she struggled to resist falling under its spell. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, begging her mind to calm and think clearly.

“I promise, I will do nothing more than hold you,” he said, running his hand delicately over her cheek. “I just want to hold my wife.”

He did not deserve it, she knew. Nor did he deserve to be touching her as he did now, though she did not push him away. He did not even deserve her consideration of his request.

But it had been half a year for her, too.

Half a year with no one to kiss her good morning or good night. No one to carry her to bed when her legs and back ached. No one to hold her hair and whisper soothing words when she was sick.

She’d had her mother, her sister, and her maids. Even a Maester, at one very low point. But that was not the same. It was not the touch of a beloved husband.

Despite her anger, she was aching to be held by him.

“Just for a few moments,” she whispered through trembling lips. “Then you must leave.”

She did not have time to regret her decision before Aemond pulled her forward and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead as he thanked her. And before she could pull away, he was turning her slowly, so her back was pressed flush against his chest.

“It’s alright,” he assured her when she made a soft noise of confusion. “Trust me, abrazȳrītsos.”

His hands skated down her arms, his touch featherlight and yet searing. She gasped as he began to cradle her belly, her head lolling back into his shoulder. If given one more breath, she would have pushed him away, but then…

He laced his fingers together and took the weight of her belly into his own arms.

It was a rapturous feeling, to have the burden of it lifted from her and her eternally aching spine, even for a moment. She sighed in relief and leaned back further into her husband. Gratitude flooded through her, and her hands flew to rest over his.

“Oh, Aemond,” she breathed into his neck.

Gods, she had missed him so much. Everything would have been so much easier if he’d been here to hold her like this. He had always known been able to help her, she should have known that even with their first child, he would somehow know what to do…

Her eyes snapped open, and her blood ran cold.

This was their first child, but it was not Aemond’s only child.

He had another, far away, within a different mother. A mother whom he had been there for as she grew, Who, thanks to her role as a wetnurse, would be able to teach him exactly how to help.

“Did you hold Alys like this?”

Aemond stiffened behind her, and his grip tightened. “Abrazȳrītsos…”

“Don’t lie to me, Aemond. Not anymore.”

Silence, then…

“Yes, I did.”

She seized his hands and ripped them apart, tearing herself out of his grasp as quickly as she could, heedless of him reaching for her. Stumbling, she crossed the room before turning back to him, eyes blazing through new tears.

“Do not ever touch me like you touched her,” she spat. Her rage had reignited, the barren grassland now an endless field of flame.

Aemond’s mouth hung open as he looked to her in despair, his arms held helplessly in front of him. His voice broke as he said her name – a plea. “I just wanted to hold you. To help you.”

“And you did. For a few moments, just as you asked. Now leave, as you promised.”

He was looking at her like she was a wild beast, primed to lash out should he make one wrong move. But she didn’t mind, for that was exactly what she felt like. He had made her feel that way, and she hated him for it.

Aemond just stood there, and she could see his mind working desperately to figure out what to say to placate her. She would not give him the chance.

“Leave!” she screamed, her voice ripping its way out of her throat, burning as it went. She could not help but wonder if that was what dragons felt when they breathed fire.

Lowering his arms, Aemond nodded. “I will leave, abrazȳrītsos. Just as I promised. I am sorry.”

“I don’t care.” She meant it. His apology meant absolutely nothing to her raging, broken heart.

She watched him carefully as he turned and walked through the door, ready to rage at him again if she needed to. Perhaps she would actually breathe fire the next time.

Aemond did not try anything to soothe her or convince her to change her mind. The warrior prince knew when a battle was lost. But she knew he had not yet ceded the war.

That much was clear when he paused in the doorway, looking back at her in determination. “I love you, abrazȳrītsos, and nothing will ever change that.”

Then he closed the door, and was gone.

But she could not stop crying, for she knew he would return.

Worse, she knew that as angry as she was, she loved him, too. And nothing would ever change that, either.

-

[moodymisty]

Space marine trio gangbang anon read my fucking mind lol (I also have not played space marine 2 yet, but I hc that gadriel is into degrading praise rather than straight up degradation) like, please God, let me be their personal serf for whenever they need me, doesn't have ti be all of them at once. Just a titjob here, a quickie there. Hell, a hand job would probably enough for msot of them because of their repressed sexual desires. (I feel like a freaking beggar running around the univer going "spare cock? Please? Anyone have spare cock")

Author's note: oops?

Warnings: NSFW, Handjob, Very gentle degradation tbh not really much, Implied being shared among the three of them

Surprisingly, Adeptus Administratum tasks aboard an astartes ship are somewhat lacking. Though it is more than possible that one of a few people had something to do with that.

You won't complain however, no one apart from the most vehemently obsessed would prefer writing tax reports over other things that occur aboard a battlebarge as large as this.

-- come to the astartes barracks --

Normally, they don't even bother with sending messages over vox. It's either quicker to send someone to get you, or get you themselves. Knowing the sender of the message had been far more surprising however.

You've known Titus the longest. He has said that he enjoys your company; Perhaps because unaugmented humans cannot bicker and snub him off in the same way fellow astartes can.

Charion was introduced to you by Titus not long after. He seems kind, almost kinder than Titus in a way; Though it's more than likely that he is simply less afraid to show it.

Gadriel... You don't know him well. You know of him, but he seems completely uninterested in you.

Completely uninterested in that.

You don't know if he was simply being obtuse when saying it, or if he genuinely didn't know what the words for what you are doing with his battle brothers are. He didn't seem to care either way anyways.

Which had made it all the more surprising when you huffed all the way to the astartes barracks, only to find Gadriel standing in the entryway of his quarters waiting. You had thought it just coincidence at first, until he purposely calls you closer while you look for Titus.

You come to him and squeeze inside his barracks from the doorway he mostly blocks- sizable even without armor. The door closes behind you with a dull hiss. It's barren other than the basics, and a few trophies.

"My lord... Do you require something?"

The look Gadriel gives you is more than unimpressed, and dare you think almost... Pouting?

"You call Charion Charion, you call Titus Demetrian, but I get Lord?"

You shirk a bit into yourself, shrugging your shoulders. Having to speak with him is more difficult than the others.

"Will all the due respect, I don't know you."

The look Gadriel gives isn't readable- though it could simply be because you really do not know him like you do his squadmates.

The astartes moves to drop himself sitting onto his bunk, and the horrible creak it lets out crying from his weight worries you it might collapse. Thankfully however, it holds. You don't know if it would've if he was any heavier.

"What you do with them, show me."

A vague question.

You stand dumbly and look at him, watching how his robes lay over his shoulders and chest. The longer you're silent, the most irritated he gets.

"Can you, can you be a bit more specific?"

He looks at your thoroughly unimpressed, eyes glancing you up and down. You feel pressed under his stare in a way you don't know if you like or not. It unsettles a bit, for sure.

"You know. The reason you always smell like them."

Oh. You know what he's referring to now.

Titus and Charion while seeming to genuinely enjoy your company, enjoy something else you offer them outside of the things a normal space marine should know of and desire. Titus had been the first. He's an older marine, hardened and stalwart in his duties but independent.

Titus had offered you to Charion, after you agreed. Hence why despite there being two of them, you still are referred to as being Titus'.

But Gadriel had shrugged them both off, content to have little to no interaction with you other than when he stumbles upon you in their company and the occasional requisition order.

You wonder what spurred on this sudden change.

Stepping closer, he watches you intently as you to try and figure out how to even start. Titus always wants to kiss you- to try and shove his larger tongue right down your throat. Would Gadriel even care? Does he even know how? Then again if he knows enough to demand you show him how you fuck his battle brothers, he would know such a thing, correct? Then again you're well aware from experience the gaps in their knowledge are vast crevasses that take a long time and are often, quite embarrassing to cross.

At least he is thoroughly clean, however. The last time Titus and his squad had been deployed it was a two and a half week rotation, and when they had returned, Titus had eagerly come to visit you and chat once out of armor.

He had however neglected to bathe in his excitement, and upon entering the same confined room as him, you had immediately retched all over the floor.

TItus then left to clean himself of whatever ungodly concoction of putrid things he was still covered in, and you scurried away until the serfs cleaned everything.

Gadriel in comparison smells, dare you say quite pleasant. A heady, musky male odor combined with an almost chemical smell hidden underneath. Titus had said it was from their extra organs, one in particular that embarrassingly, you forgot the name of.

You stand unsure as he watches and you can see him getting impatient, as you speak up again.

"Could you, perhaps be a bit more specific?" The look he gives you is insultingly unimpressed.

"Titus always calls you smart. I don't see it."

You purse your lips, a bit upset at the insult.

"My l- Gadriel, in my defense you are being quite vague..."

The astartes sighs and loses a bit of his rigid posture, letting himself slouch just a bit as the muscle and fat of his stomach folds. You don't know why you suddenly realize just how large he is in that exact moment- how he's still almost at your height while sitting.

"Give me what you give Titus."

That you can at least somewhat work with.

Stepping even closer, you can feel the way your heart is nervously stammering. You only know Gadriel a tiny bit, despite being part of Titus' main squad. He never seemed interested in you until now. He would tend to roll his eyes at particularly Titus giving you any sort of affection, or desiring it when you weren't around.

To get any closer however you decide to walk and place his left thigh between your own; His legs are spread decently far apart enough to make it difficult. The moment your hands touch his chest, you can see him glance down to see. One of them pushes higher to rest on his collarbone, feeling the rough scars on his skin as his robe shifts to reveal more skin.

"Titus says a lot of things about you."

You can feel the way his voice rumbles in his chest, incredibly deep. You swallow a knot in your throat.

"I hope they're good things..."

Gadriel's voice is stoic and lacking in obvious emotion, but it's a bit lighter than how he was earlier. You wish you could have any clue on what he was thinking.

"We will see."

Your other hand drifts lower, brushing across his stomach. You hear a small pack of astartes walk around outside, and you unconsciously glance towards the door while your hand twitches away.

"They aren't going to come in here. Quit behaving so nervously. You can do it."

His surprising addition to the end makes your face feel a bit warm, before pulling at the fabric used as underwear.

Astartes clothes are cheap, utilitarian and mass produced, and as it goes quite easy to put on and remove.

When you wrap your hand around his cock you can't even hear Gadriel make the slightest sound, gently dancing your fingers over his skin. You feel his cock twitch in your palm, leaning forward until your own breath is fanning over his skin. Attempting to ignore the way your cunt throbs and brushes against his thigh is a gargantuan task, but you attempt it none the less.

You're close enough that you think you can just barely hear the sound of his hearts, though it could also just be your own blood thumping in your ears. You feel his cock harden in your hand and as your palm drifts up and down his shaft you feel him let out the slightest exhale.

You know from experience that even the slightest slip ups for them are far more dramatic than you would think. If he slipped up enough to let out a heavy breath, you know that it's working.

Only for a moment do you pull away your hand to lick your palm, trying not to have so much dry friction. He doesn't seem to care, but you did. When you wrack your hand around his cock against and move faster, a bit rougher, Gadriel lets out a louder noise before one of his hands reaches to grab your waist.

"Throne girl,"

He grunts out, before you move away. The look he gives you is confused and irritated, as you try and move to kneel between his legs. You think he is about to reprimand him, before he realizes that you haven't decided to just leave him with an aching, leaking erection in the middle of the barracks.

Your jaw aches just at the sight of his cock before your face, wrapping your lips around his tip. Slowly you take more and more of him in your mouth and hear the way he lets out a surprisingly loud groan, feeling the wet heat of your mouth around over half of his cock. It's all that can fit; You wrap your hand around the rest while the other steadies yourself on his thigh.

You can taste the saltiness of skin, sweat and precum in your mouth, bobbing your head on his cock. You treat cautiously- you know he more than likely isn't going to last much longer and you know he will not warn you. While a mouth full of astartes cum isn't the worst thing- at least to you though you're sure it's probably an outlier opinion- you'd rather not end up with and unprepared mouthful so much so you choke.

"So this is what they've had you doing instead of Administratum duties?"

You hum to clear your throat and attempt to ignore the throbbing between your legs, looking up briefly to see his furrowed brow and flush to his skin. He lets out a large exhale through his nose, and you feel his cock throb in your mouth.

You think you hear him mumble something- a swear perhaps you don't know, but moments later he cums in your mouth, filling the pocket of your cheek and forcing you to quickly pull away more lest he do actually choke you. It almost hurts to swallow, but when you look up he's staring at you with that stoic astartes expression; Though something is underneath it.

"The chaplains would call this heretical, whoreish behavior." You pull away and wipe your mouth.

"Are you not the one who ordered me? And who let me do such things?" He watches you closely, sternly.

"That I did. And I order you to show me more."

[unequivocallyreid]

Stay With Me Till Morning

hi guys! another fic for you :) i got a little carried away at the end, but you know how it goes. this is for any munch!spencer fans 🤗

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary:

Spencer and you are co-workers, strictly co-workers, despite your feelings for him. A few nights sharing a room won’t change that, right?

warnings: mentions of body-specific insecurity, fluff, smut, oral sex (fem receiving)

wc: 3.2k

if i missed anything let me know!

One of the worst things about being a newbie, at any job, is coming into a place where connections have already been made. Working at the FBI, more specifically the BAU, was no different.

Now don’t get the wrong idea, working there was a dream for you, but there was no doubt that you were severely lacking in personal relationships compared to others. Derek and Reid had a sort of brotherly bond, JJ and Emily’s like sisters, and Hotch and Rossi’s went unspoken but still glaringly obvious. You existed in their orbit, and while you had all grown to love each other, you still felt a bit like an outsider sometimes.

Unfortunately for you, this feeling intensified whenever the topic of room sharing came up. Sure there were benefits, like having a room to yourself on occasion, but usually it just served to worsen your imposter syndrome.

The case that you were working currently, sans Rossi (he was on a book tour following his latest release), pushed this feeling to surface even more.

You all were in Upstate New York investigating a series of homicides that seemed to mimic a string of murders that had occurred 20 years ago. The town you were in was on the smaller side, so the only place you could find accommodations was a small bed and breakfast.

Said BnB did not have enough rooms available for anyone to ride solo, and with Rossi gone, Hotch and Morgan were buddied up, leaving Emily and JJ and Reid and you. Naturally, Emily and JJ bunked up together, leaving you to share a room with the boy wonder.

It’s not that you didn’t like Reid, quite the opposite actually, you liked him too much. You’ve always had a propensity for falling incredibly deeply incredibly fast, and when you met Spencer for the first time you proved you reputation correct.

Your first impression probably put him off slightly, but he was gracious enough not to show it. When Hotch introduced you, the first thing you thought was how ridiculous attractive the man in front of you was. His high cheekbones and big, brown eyes drew you in immediately. To make matters worse, he was fucking adorable. After snapping back to reality, you offered Spencer your hand, which he declined citing the pathogens and it being safer to kiss.

In one of your more impressive displays of cluelessness you said, “I think we could make that happen.”

This caused Spencer to flush and a ghost of a smile to grace Hotch’s face. Thankfully, in the last few months you had redeemed yourself slightly, developed a rapport with the doctor, and stood by hopelessly as you crush developed into a nasty little monster.

So, no sharing a room with Spencer wasn’t really an issue, but still, might just be the thing that breaks you.

~

“There’s only one fucking bed?”

You’d spoke far too soon.

After assuring Spencer you were completely fine and not at all uncomfortable with sharing a room with him, you and him walked together to your room, only to find a scene straight out of a shitty romance novel.

When Spencer heard you and noticed that there was in fact, only one bed, he immediately said, “I can sleep on the couch.”

Maybe you should’ve just agreed and saved yourself from a week of sexual frustration, but you couldn’t.

“Spence, that couch is maybe five feet long. I don’t even think I could sleep on it.”

You looked at him then to muster up some courage, “We can share the bed. We’re both adults.”

He looked slightly pained, which panicked you a bit. God, how fucking embarrassing.

“Or I can take the couch. I wont let you, but if you’re uncomfortable I can. I’m a bit shorter.”

Spencer hurried to speak, “No!”

His outburst took you by surprise but he quickly went on.

“I mean, no. I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to be at all or feel like I’m forcing you to sleep with me. Fuck, or I mean next to me-“

You cut him off before he could fall into a tailspin.

“We’ll share then.”

~

Sharing the bed had actually not been that bad for you at first. You were on your third day in New York, and you were making steady progress on the case. Hopefully, it would be wrapped up in a day or two.

Aside from the fact that you barely spent any time in the room, you had managed to stay on your side bed. The only spot of trouble was the dreams you were having, dreams about the person next to you that would turn even the worst sinner’s cheeks red. Still, Reid was acting no different, so at least you were confident you weren’t talking, or, god-forbid, moaning, in your sleep.

It had been an incredibly hard day. Not only was it freezing, but you had been outside and away from temperature controlled environments for far too long. Immediately once you got back to the Inn you were staying at, you asked Spencer if he’d mind you taking the shower first.

“I’m freezing my ass of right now. You don’t mind do you?”

“No, of course not. You know it’s kind of a superstition, but there’s some actual evidence that being cold can make you sick. I just read a study which showed 10% of people exposed to-“

You cut him off before he could finish.

“Spence, I’d love to hear about all that, but please just wait till I’m out of the shower.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry.”

You shook off his apology as it wasn’t needed. That was one thing you didn’t get about the rest of the team; you loved hearing all the little tid bits of information that Reid let out. Yeah, he was like a literal encyclopedia at times, but it was never annoying. If anything it made you like him more. You loved the way he lit up when he told you about something he’d just read about, or read about 15 years ago. It was cute.

Getting into the shower was like a blessing. The water rolled over your cold skin and helped to loosen the muscles you’d been stressing all day. If you were bolder, or clueless to Spencer’s aversion to touch, you’d ask him to give you a shoulder rub. Your mind wondered off to where else he might touch you, but that was just wishful thinking.

After spending a near gratuitous amount of time in the shower, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. Only once you’d started drying off did you realize in you haste to warm up you’d forgotten to bring your sleep clothes into the bathroom with you. Now, you had to walk out in a tiny, hotel towel right in front of Reid. Sure, it was the start of a few of your fantasies, but in real life the idea seemed mortifying.

As quietly as possible, to not draw attention to yourself, you opened the bathroom door. With one hand gripping the point where the towel connected with itself, you tried to tiptoe unnoticed to your suitcase.

“Y/n?”

You looked up to see Spencer watching your frame like a hawk. As he took in your damp, barely covered figure, you wished to yourself that the lights in the room weren’t so fucking bright.

“I, uh, forgot to bring my clothes in,” and with that, you raced back into the bathroom to change.

After taking a minute to collect yourself, you make your way out of the bathroom again. The room is, thankfully, much darker and you see Reid tucked into his side of the bed. You climb in next to him.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was weird. I, I won’t forget my clothes again.”

“It didn’t, Y/n, don’t worry.”

With that, you both tried your best to fall asleep and put the day behind you.

~

When you wake up, it’s decidedly not light out and you are decidedly not alone on your side of the bed. One of Spencer’s arms is over your waist, holding you against his body. Still, you don’t know why you’ve woken up.

You tend to be a pretty heavy sleeper, and you know that some light spooning wasn’t enough to wake you up. As you lay awake, trying to figure out why you are up and what to do next you feel Spencer move behind you.

Now, you definitely know what woke you. Spencer, who could barely look you in the eye after seeing you in a towel, was grinding into while you slept. Obviously, he was asleep too, but that didn’t stop the shock of it all from hitting you like a fucking bus. He was silent aside from the occasional whimper, which sent shockwaves straight to your core each time he let one slip.

Despite this, again, being the start to a few of your own wet dreams, you were pretty literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. You felt like you’d be taking advantage of Reid if you didn’t wake him, but if you did you know he’d just about die from embarrassment. Or, worse, he’d think that you somehow executed all of this in a sick ploy. Not likely, but still a source of anxiety.

It took you a few minutes to get your head on straight, what with the burning feeling brewing in your abdomen, but eventually you realized that waking him up was pretty much the only thing you could do.

“Spence,” you said while gently shaking his shoulder.

“Spence, love, you gotta wake up.”

You were turned toward him now and saw his eyes open a crack, “Y/n? What’s wrong what’s goin-“

The realization of your situation also hit him like a truck, which was sort of comforting because at least you weren’t alone in the feeling.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Jesus, I, I can’t- Fuck I’m so sorry.”

He went to spring out of bed, but your hand grabbed his arm before he could.

“Spence, it’s okay I promise. Honestly I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”

“No, no it’s not. You don’t even like me that way and I was all over you-“

You cut him off when you heard this, “Spence, what do you mean I don’t like you like that?”

“You heard me right? I said your name?”

The world stops spinning, “What?”

“Oh, oh no. Look, I’m so sorry. I’ll go sleep in one of the cars. Fuck, I’m so-”

“Spencer stop. Please stop apologizing.”

It’s like an old Western showdown for a moment, the two of you staring at each other without making a move.

“Were you dreaming about me?”

He nodded, about to speak and likely offer more apologies. But, before he gets the chance you push your lips to meet his.

The kiss is soft and gentle. At first, his lips don’t move against yours, and you start to pull back, worried you read the situation wrong. Fortunately, before your lips could even part from his, he’s pulled you back in. His hands find the side of your face and his lips pressed into yours with a bruising intensity. Slowly, his hands moved to your waist, holding you in place.

The feeling rushing through you was unlike any you’d ever experienced. His lips molded to yours so perfectly it was almost unbelievable. If you’re hands weren’t so preoccupied by his hair, you’d pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. With a move you didn’t think he’d possibly pull, Spencer bit into your lip, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to press further into the kiss, tracing your tongue with his.

Before you could fall completely into the kiss you pulled away to ask, “Spence, are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since the day we met, Y/n.”

With that, he pulled you back in. His hands moved more surely on you, dipping below your shirt. The feeling of his skin on yours sent shockwaves through your body. You moved to take off his shirt in turn, desperate to feel even more of him. He was relentless, breaking free from your lips to drag his mouth down your neck and over your exposed collar bone.

You felt needier than ever, and evidently so did he. In another move you didn’t expect (maybe you should throw your expectations out the window at this point) he grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap. With you straddling him, he moved to take your shirt off. Insecurity grabbed hold of you before you could push it away.

You stilled his hands in yours, “I haven’t let anyone see me like this in a long time. Just, please don’t be disappointed by what you see.”

His face morphed into one so full of love that it made your teeth ache.

“You’re my dream, Y/n. You’ll never, ever disappoint me.”

You let go of his hands and they resumed their previous journey, pushing up your shirt and letting that part of you be bare to him. Admittedly, you had to fight the urge to cover yourself, but when you saw his face you knew it was pointless. He was ogling you, not offensively, but more like he couldn’t believe you were actually in front of him.

“You’re so, so beautiful.”

His words didn’t erase the thoughts you had, but they certainly made them easier to ignore. Moving up from your waist, he went to cup your breast, fingers playing with your nipple which made your back arch into him. He took the opportunity to flip you over so you were laying underneath him. The weight of his body over you was heavenly. You felt him press himself into your center through his sweatpants. There were just thin layers of clothes between you now.

“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been dying to.”

You’re stunned from words but you manage to nod your head. As he moved down your body, he took your shorts and panties with you, leaving you completely exposed. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared of the feeling or his reaction to you. With Spencer, you felt completely at home.

You felt him kiss down your things, teasing you in a way that made you feel completely crazy. His breath ghosted over your core, but he still hadn’t made contact with where you needed him most.

“Spencer, please.”

Hearing your voice must have broken his resolve. He dove in like a man starved. In the past, you hadn’t found yourself enjoying the presence on a man’s head between your legs. Not that you had much experience, but the men who had you in that way always seemed to treat it as a means to an end. One of the two boyfriends you’d had refused to go down on you at all, and the other wouldn’t unless you were completely shaved. Safe to say you didn’t feel like you were missing much.

Everything was different with Spencer. He licked into you there was no place he’d rather be. His tongue over traced over your cunt as he tried to find all the places that drove you wild, and god did he. The noises in the room were obscene, from the moans falling from your lips to the sound of his driving you to an orgasm.

You locked your hands in his hair, grinding into his face without even noticing that you were. You were so close, and you found the final push in his fingers. God, his beautiful fingers.

His mouth was on your clit as he pushed two digits into you, curling in before pulling out, over and over until your legs begin to shake. His unoccupied hand pressed on your lower stomach, building up the feeling until you burst.

You repeated a mantra of his name as you came harder than you can ever remember coming before. The sensation took you out for a minute, but when you came back down and looked down at Spencer, you saw him staring at you in awe and completely soaked.

“Fuck, Y/n. Have you, have you done that before? I think that was the sexist thing I’ve ever seen.”

You were confused for a moment, wondering why he’d think you hadn’t orgasmed before. That was before you felt the damp fabric of the bed beneath you.

“Oh! Oh god, uh, no I haven’t. I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“Don’t apologize for that, Y/n. Fuck, I’d spend the rest of my life between your legs if it meant I could see that again.”

The constat praise falling from him had you noticeably riled up, and you pulled him up, back on top of you.

“Spencer, please. I want you. I want you inside me.”

“Fuck, Y/n.”

He made incredibly quick work of his own pants, freeing himself. Your mouth dropped open as you took him in. He was big, the biggest you’d been with, and he was pretty. You would have drooled if it wasn’t for his lips pressing into yours. He ran his middle finger through your folds before grasping himself. He followed his own path and ran his member through your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect.”

The pet name made you even more desperate, “Please, Spence. Fuck, please.”

He put you out of your misery, sinking into you in one motion. You had to adjust to his size, but the feeling of him inside you, as close to you as possible had you reeling. You bucked your hips up, urging him to move.

He gave you exactly what you wanted, pushing into you at a perfect pace as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

You were overcome and all you could mutter was “thank you, thank you, thank you” in time with each of his thrusts. When he started to push into you harder, you couldn’t help but squeeze down on him.

His hips stalled, “You’re gonna make me come, Y/n. You’re so fucking tight”

You let your hands take down his back, “Please, Spence. Want you to, want to feel you come in me.”

His pace picked up, and you could feel how close he was. Still he wasn’t done. His fingers again found your clit and rubbed circles on it.

“Need to feel you come on me first baby. Need you to come.”

His words made your head spin. It only took a few more thrusts before you were coming again, just as intense as the first time. You pulsed around him and it pushed him over the edge. You felt him come inside you, filling you completely.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, but you froze immediately after saying them, worried that you had ruined everything. But, just as he had done before, Spencer quelled your worries.

“I love you too. God, I love you.”

~

The next morning was bliss. You woke in Spencer’s arms, and let him into you again. The sex was slow and you each let the three words spill uninhibited.

When you went downstairs, ready to finish the case, you were met with the sheepish faces of your team.

Derek spoke first, “I’d say congratulations if you both weren’t so loud last night.”

While you were mortified, watching the rest of the team hold back their chuckles, you couldn’t help but agree that this was all a moment to celebrate.

End

let me know what you think!!

[happiest-hotch]

Mother's Day

Summary: Jack has a very important, surprise gift to give you on a special holiday for your inaugural celebrations together

Paring: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Fluff)

WC: 1.4k

Whenever he can, Aaron leaves work early to get Jack. Thankfully, with Strauss's return, he's not still stuck doing two jobs, so he finishes his work in time to get Jack from school. You also love when he has days like that because it means he'll cook something delicious and homemade, maybe even dessert if Jack has anything to say about it.

Jack gets into the car like any other day, but what he says isn't the typical comment about his day or request for an afternoon activity. "Did you know it's Mother's Day this weekend?" Jack asks.

Aaron's heart clenches in his chest. Mother's Days, birthdays, Christmases, and the anniversary of Haley's death are all especially hard days for Jack, and Aaron tries his best to support his son. "Do you want to talk about mom?" He asks softly as he drives. Since Jack doesn't remember a lot of it, Aaron fills in the blanks and answers the questions.

"No, I might want to talk to her tonight, but I want to get a present," Jack explains.

Aaron frowns a little but accepts it. "We can do that. What do you want to get her?"

Jack's thinking face looks like his dad's, something you were the first to point out to Aaron. "I don't know." He admits. "You always get roses for Y/n so maybe I can get her flowers?"

That really throws Aaron, and it rapidly occurs to him that he and Jack aren't talking about the same person. "You want to get a present for Y/n?" He clarifies.

Jack shifts uncomfortably in his car seat, clearly nervous at his father's reaction. "I'm sorry. Is that wrong?"

Aaron can't shake his head fast enough. "No. No, of course not, buddy." He assures his son, reaching back with one hand to touch the boy's foot for extra reassurance. "I think she'd really like that. What made you think you want to get something for her?" He tries to ask it in a non-judgemental, casual tone.

"Well, in class, we were all talking about what we love about our moms, and a lot of the things that my friends were talking about are things that Y/n does for me." He explains, and Aaron feels his heart clench in the best way that time while he bites down a wide smile. "Mom is still my mom, and I'm not forgetting how she used to do those things for me, but Y/n is there for me too."

Aaron notices what he's emphasizing, and he's immensely proud of Jack for being able to express those feelings, understanding that appreciating his mom and recognizing your role in his life aren't mutually exclusive.

Then he's thinking about you as he absorbs the confession. And how lucky he is to have you. You have been a constant source of support and love, a beacon of hope and stability in the wake of their family tragedy, never anything but good to them. He feels so much joy and a tiny bit of sadness. He knows Haley would have loved you and appreciated how much you care for Jack, but he wishes she was there to see it.

He's choked up as he goes to speak. "Jack, that's very sweet of you, and I think, no, I know, Y/n feels the same way about you. She thinks you're the most amazing kid ever."

Jack smiles softly. "She does? Really?"

Aaron can't nod fast enough. "Yes, she always tells me how great she thinks you are."

"So we can get her a gift for her?" Jack confirms, looking hopeful.

"Absolutely." Aaron agrees, taking a right turn to the mall rather than a left to their home. "Whatever you want."

~

It's been such a long week of work and Saturday mornings are Jack's soccer games, so as soon as your Saturday movie night is over, you're fast asleep next to Aaron.

Like usual, he stirs beside you first on Sunday morning, but when you go to get up with him, he softly whispers for you to go back to sleep and that's very easy to do.

When you next wake up, the sun is creeping through the blinds at a different angle, signaling that you slept in for longer than you usually would.

There's a soft knock at the bedroom door before you can properly wake up and get out of bed, and you softly call out for who you expect to be Jack to come in.

You're right in your guess that it's Jack, who quickly jumps up onto the bed with you, followed by his father who has a breakfast tray with a big vase of flowers on it accompanying a delicious-looking plate of French toast.

"Wow, you've both been busy this morning." You mumble sleepily as you sit up to hug Jack who's jumping into your arms.

"Happy Mother's Day!" He cheers joyfully, and you're taken off guard by the greeting, completely shocked.

Your eyes dart to Aaron's to make sure you heard Jack correctly, and his wide smile confirms you have. He's looking between you both with so much love and tenderness, his heart so full it feels like it's bursting.

Your eyes fill with tears as you realize the enormity of what he's just said. "Thank you, Jack." You squeeze him even tighter in a hug, not wanting him to slip away from this perfect moment.

He pulls back and smiles at you before turning back to his dad. "Can we give it to her?" He asks.

"Sure, bud." Aaron agrees, setting the tray down over the top of your legs. He sits near the foot of the bed while Jack snuggles into your side.

Jack reaches forward to pick up the little box next to the breakfast. "Here." He hands it to you. "Happy Mother's Day. Thank you for caring so much about me."

You kiss his forehead, holding him tighter to his side as you gladly accept his thoughtful and unexpected gift. "You're very welcome. I love you, Jackers."

Whatever he has for you has to be jewelry from the small, flat shape of the box and the designer jewelry stamp. You open it up, and your heart melts more, if it were possible. What's inside is a gorgeous gold bracelet with a flat, circular charm, engraved with the letter J.

Jack touches it as your finger does. "It's a J for Jack."

You nod so you don't start crying too much. You're so overwhelmed by gratitude and happiness that you can't help but let one tear slip out.

"Thank you." You finally get the words out. "It's perfect and I love it so much. I'm going to wear it every day, so you're always with me."

Jack's grinning a proud grin, clearly proud of himself for picking it out. Aaron had told him how much you would love it, but seeing it confirms it for him. "I think it'll look beautiful on you." He tells you adorably.

You chuckle a little. "You're a sweet talker just like your dad, you know?"

Aaron laughs next to you, but Jack's confused at what your compliment means, and his attention is drawn elsewhere. "Daddy and I made French toast for me as well. Oh, and I got you flowers."

It's a gorgeous bunch of flowers, beautiful colors, and lovely smells. "Thank you so much. Both of you." You repeat to them, making sure they're feeling the reciprocated love you're feeling.

"You're welcome," Jack says politely.

Aaron leans over to kiss your forehead. "I love you." He whispers.

You whisper it back before looking back at your breakfast plate. "There's a lot of French toast here, so I might need some help eating it." You say suspiciously, looking between Jack and Aaron.

Jack's eyes light up like he's been waiting for you to offer him some of it, and you can't blame him, it looks and smells like restaurant quality and you know breakfast foods are Aaron's strong suit cooking-wise.

"I am kind of hungry." Jack agrees, smirking at you softly.

"Eat up then, bud." You say, offering him the first spoonful. "We've got lots of fun stuff to do today."

[wosoamazing]

A New Chapter

Y/N Williamson Epilogue?? (My last fic before I refresh my page/content...)

IMPORTANT: This fic involves a heterosexual relationship between R and a Fictional character... If this is something you don't want to read I suggest you move on. WARNINGS: bad injury (hip), mentions of hospitals and surgery, moving away, rehab, heterosexual relationships, some swearing, periods, endometriosis, vomit/mentions of, being scared to return home, mild sickness, kids?, hints/links to miscarriage (not everyone will notice), suggestive?? - it's long so there are a lot, I have tried to list them in order, however if you do really want to read it but you can't bc of some of the warnings message me and I can see if I can cut that part of the story out for you. A/N: Not properly edited yet, I will edit it later - so sorry if any mistakes. Also sorry if the second half of it feels rushed, it was getting so long but I may have accidentally rushed it trying to make it not insanely long... (Word Count: 7462 - be prepared, hopefully it's not boring)

Your dream of playing in an Olympics Final came crashing down 15 minutes into the Matildas’ opening match of the tournament. A corner had been given, Steph kicked it in and the next second you were on the ground in agony, it seemed to happen in fast forward for you. However for Leah, who was watching at home, the moment unfolded so agonisingly slowly, she saw Frohms place a hand on your shoulder restricting you from jumping, as Oberdorf jumped into the air behind you, if it wasn't for Frohms’ hand on your shoulder the goal could’ve been yours, she was angry and hoped the ref had picked up on it, however she wasn’t angry for long, as she saw the trajectory Oberdorf was coming down on, her jump slightly too high meaning she lost control. Time slowed to an almost stop as Leah froze sat in front of the TV, watching as Oberdorfs midsection completely landed on top of your left shoulder, she almost felt her heart stop as she saw your left leg brace, watching as it popped out from the force of Oberdorfs head hitting your thigh, causing you to completely crumple onto the ground. Thankfully the players around reacted quick enough to grab onto Oberdorf and flip her, otherwise your injury wouldn’t have been the worst, and something unimaginable could’ve happened. She saw your body jolt as you were turned onto your back, the look on your face along with the scream you let out indicating your hip most likely popped back into place. The full weight of it all occurred seconds later when a phone was brought onto the pitch and steph did something on it, Leah’s phone started to ring.

“Leah, she,” Steph breathed out not knowing what to say

“I know. I saw. Can I talk to her?” Leah asked before hearing some shuffling from the other end, watching Steph crouch down next to you on the TV.

“Le-ah,” your voice came across the phone, it was full of pain and fear, Leah was honestly surprised you hadn’t passed out from the pain yet, but maybe you were running on adrenaline or shook, all she was certain about was that she needed to be there for you, in one way or another.

“Hi bug, you’re doing so well, being so brave. They are going to take good care of you, I promise. I love you so so much, and I’ll be there very soon, you’ve got this bug,” she told you before Steph took the phone back to her ear as the medics needed to move you, “we’re coming, our flight is in like an hour, we are actually about to leave now,” she informed her club teammate as she watched her fiance leave the bedroom wheeling a suitcase behind her.

______

You were immediately taken into surgery, where they did x-rays and scans. You woke up a few hours later surrounded by machines, unable to feel your left leg, but your left shoulder and torso ached badly, but quickly you noticed Steph, Sam, Leah, Lia and Alexia all sitting around the white washed sterile room. The people who you looked up to in your life and who inspired you, all in a hospital room, to be there for you, for some it meant taking time out of their teams olympic tournament. Maybe even risking unfair punishment and her mental health for one. For two others it meant getting on a plane last minute, dropping all other plans, including the IVF appointment they had waited a year for, not knowing when the next one would be, willingly letting go of their hope to have kids in the near future for you. In that moment you realised how much you meant to them, never before had the meaning of you to them been so tangible, they meant the universe and more to you, but maybe you meant ever more than that to them.

Leah noticed your eyes open and moved beside your bed, “Hey bug, how are you feeling?” she said ever so softly, and you just blinked groggily at her as she leant in to kiss your forehead mumbling “I love you very much,” before her hands moved to cup your face and her thumbs wiped away the silent tears that had started to fall from your eyes. The others all got up and left not only to find a doctor but give you two a moment of privacy.

“Hi, Y/N, nice to see you awake, I’m Dr NAME and this is Dr NAME, we were the two surgeons who operated on you,” one of the doctors spoke as they walked in, smiling at you, you kind of nodded at them and watched as their gaze turned to Leah before going through your chart, “and you’re Leah,” she nodded at them. “Okay so,” he started talking but you were too tired to listen and zoned out, hearing the words, dislocated, hairline fracture, Iliofemoral and Pubofemoral. You would eventually come to find those are the things that happened to your, during the fall your tore your  Iliofemoral and Pubofemoral ligaments, which then meant when Oberdorf’s head hit your thigh it was a lot easier for your hip to dislocate which it did, you had a hairline fracture in your femoral neck but it was unknown which mechanics of the injury caused that, sometimes they would insert a pin but as yours was only small and you were young, they didn’t, it also meant they likelihood of you returning to football was higher, however you still would most likely never return.

You were stuck in Paris until the end of the tournament, the risk of you flying back home versus the ‘risk’ of you staying there were incomparable and so you and your crutches, along with your bandaged hip, sporting the equivalent of a hinged knee brace but for a hip over your leggings, were dragged along to the final match, the first time you had been in the public's eye properly since your injury. You were dreading this match for multiple reasons. It meant you would be in the media’s sight, and you would also have to interact with the people you had been ignoring. But even more it meant you had to watch your teammates and ‘family’ get to do the one thing you had ever dreamt of, the thing that was almost never going to happen now. You stood alongside Sam during the national anthem, wearing an official match jersey, your own name on your back, as a tear rolled down your cheek, which after the anthem Sam wiped away before hugging you tightly. She understood the pain to some extent, however she knew well and truly before the olympics started the team could make it to the final and she would be standing on the sidelines, for you it was different, you should’ve been on that pitch today, if it wasn’t for your injury you would’ve been starting, as the main forward, but that didn;t matter now, you would probably never start for the matildas or any football club/team again, she knew it, the team knew it, the world knew it, you even knew it, you just didn’t want to have to face that reality.

The whistle blew and every single member of the Australian’s on the sidelines got up and sprinted onto the pitch, except you, every single A.O.C football personal was on the pitch celebrating, but you weren’t. You couldn't, you couldn’t get up, but that's not the reason you were not on the pitch, you didn’t want to be, you didn’t deserve to be.

The next second the whole bench shook, Kyra had catapulted herself into the row of seats in front of you, you looked up, her face shiny from sweat, holding the world's biggest grin, “come join us,” you just shook your head, “I can help, I’ll be sensible and careful. Please?” she begged, causing a tear to roll down your cheek, causing her face to quickly drop as she moved to hug you, making you cry more, causing more girls to start to filter over to you, all leaving with dampened moods, all having failed attempts at cheering you up and failing to convince you to join them. All celebrating as they walked across the stage receiving their medals, whilst they lifted the trophy, but the pain in their eyes was evident, you watched Kyra bite her nail nervously as she looked into your direction, you were still sat in you seat, having refused to collect your medal, you played 15 minutes you didn’t deserve it. You burdened the team, Steph spent way too long laying awake in her bed, the moment replaying in her head everytime she closed her eyes. Kyra cried herself to sleep almost every night, she missed you, you might’ve been with them physically but that was it, she knew she would have to go back to Arsenal without you and most likely never play with you again and that hurt her. Macca couldn’t shake the feeling of horror that ran through her body as she heard your scream so loud and clear from the other end of the pitch, she hadn’t even had her hearing aids in and yet it sounded like you were inside her ear. If anything the team had won in spite of you, you had in no way helped them get there, you were the cause for their pain, you didn’t deserve a medal at all.

“Bebita,” Alexia said softly as she bobbed down in front of you, “No,” you harshly snapped at her, “Et mereixes una medalla, les vas aconseguir aquí i vas formar part de l'equip sigui el que passi. (You deserve a medal, you got them here and you were part of the team no matter what),” you just shook your head at her, “Bé, doncs, almenys deixa'm agafar el teu i guardar-lo segur per a tu, per quan el vulguis després. (Well then at least let me take yours and keep it safe for you, for when you want it later.)” you shrugged your shoulders and so she placed your medal around her neck, for you. Before pulling you into a tight hug and not letting go for a very long time. The no you said to Alexia had been the last word you spoke to anyone before flying back under the intense supervision of the medics to England, where Lia and Leah meet you at the airport, taking you home.

______

“What’s wrong?” your sister asked, having put up with your attitude for way too long knowing you needed to break and rather than continuing to walk on eggshells waiting for you to break she decided to do it the hard way, allowing you to use her as a punching bag until you broke.

“What’s wrong, you’re fucking joking right, are you somesort of imbesile,” you sneered at her, “Oh I don’t know, maybe the fact I’ll never fucking play again, my career is over at 18, the rug has literally been swept out from under my feet, and none of it was even my fault, noone even got a fucking red, for ending my career, the ref decided that a career ending injury didn’t equate to a red. I had to watch as my friends my family lived out my dream, my fucking dream, I’m olympian, but am I really, 15 fucking minutes out of a minimum 540 minutes, I’m 2% of an olympian, I suppose that 2% counts though right? It’s not like I helped the team, I made it harder, I don’t deserve a medal but everyone else seems to think otherwise.”

“But you do bug, you were there, you got your team there, you were going to be the best young player of the year,” Leah tried to reason with you.

“Going being the key word there, I was going to win a Balloon d’or, I was going to be in the fifa best 11, I was going to win a golden boot, I was going to be and do so many things, but going is past tense, it’s never going to happen, I’m never going to get any awards ever again.” You shouted at her.

“Where are you going?” Leah asked as she watched you stand up, the room having fallen to silence moments ago.

“Away from you, I-, I-” you shook your head trying to clear your mind, Leah stepped closer to you, knowing your walls were about to crumble.

“What am I meant to do now, Le?” you asked, completely and utterly broken, “What happens now?”

Leah swallowed back her emotions “I don’t know bug, I’m sorry,” you collapsed into her and she picked you up being mindful of your hip, before lying down on the couch, your body on top of hers. You buried your head into her neck as you sobbed, your whole body shook, and all Leah could do was hold you, and try and comfort you and reassure you in a moment where there were no answers, how are you meant to comfort someone and give them reassurance when the doctors don’t even know. How are you meant to tell someone it's going to be okay when the only way to know what will happen is for them to go through an excruciating rehab process only to then very likely be told they could never play again.

____________________________________________________________

You were cleared to fly long distances 3 months after your surgery, 2 months since you returned, so that’s what you did. You flew to Australia, bought an apartment and started a new life essentially, one that not everyone knew your past in intricate detail, however being a Matilda most people knew who you were but it was different.

Charlie got Lachlan to keep an eye on you and so you did things with his friends and sometimes even his team. You found yourself getting closer to one of his friends in particular, he always made sure you weren't left behind because they were walking too fast, he was ‘coincidentally’ at the same rehab gym you went to when you first put weight on your leg still relying on your crutches heavily, he celebrated for you but quite, not to make you uncomfortable, he offered to drive you to your appointment the one where you were allowed to use only one crutch, he celebrated for you then too, a bit more openly but not nearly as enthusiastic as he would’ve liked. You invited him to the appointment where you would start walking without any assistance, he celebrated quite loudly for you that day, insisting he needed to take you out for dinner, you accepted it, hoping it would lead to something more, and it did. You quickly found yourself spending more time at his house than yours, more of your belongings there than you had at your own home. He was honestly perfect, and for whatever reason you had this feeling that a shoe would drop any second. 

— FLASHBACK — 

One night he woke up to you crying in your sleep, sitting up slightly he noticed there was blood on the sheets underneath you. Shaking you softly, he woke you up, before quietly saying “Baby, I think you’ve come on.”

“Shit,” you sighed out before curling into a tighter ball, “Why don’t you go have a shower and I’ll change the sheets,” He offered as he kissed your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, rolling over to your back, “why?”, “because I’ve bleed all over the sheets, sorry,” “Baby, it's just a little blood, it’s okay, don’t worry,” you nodded before getting up and hobbling to the bathroom.

“Hey, babe you okay?” he asked as he approached the bathroom door, having finished changing the sheets, you didn’t reply to him, but he heard the muffled sounds of you crying, “I’m coming in okay,” he told you before softly opening the door, seeing you on the floor, your legs curled underneath you, as you sobbed, he bobbed down next to you, placing a hand on your back, “Do I need to take you to the hospital? I don’t think this is normal,” you shook your head as you reached to grab his hand as another wave of pain washed over you, taking a deep breath you fought off the nausea before blurting out “endometriosis,” hoping he could make conclusions from that.

“Do you need your tablets or something?” he asked and you looked at him confused. How did he know?

“My sister's girlfriend has it, I don’t know much about it but I know some things. Are your tablets in the drawer in the kitchen with the tape and stuff, are they the things in the arsenal pouch?” He asked and you nodded, being in too much pain to talk. He quickly left and returned, with your tablets, some water and heat packs.

“Not blue box,” you told him and he nodded before popping out some of the other tablets as per the labels and handing them to you.

“Do you want me to hold you?” he asked as a tear rolled down your cheek, “But-” you tried to protest weakly.

“I honestly don't care. I just want to help, I want you to feel better,” you nodded shyly at him and he picked you up placing you in his lap as he handed you a heat pack, you curled up and hid your head in his chest, falling asleep eventually.

— END FLASHBACK — 

You met up with some of the Matildas’ for coffee during one of their camps, and he and Lachlan came, him on the basis he was Lachlan’s friend.

“How long?” Steph asked as she walked alongside you, both slightly behind the others.

“What?” “You know what I mean, how long?” “I don’t know, it started as friends and then the lines blurred and then somewhere along the way he asked me to be his girlfriend,” she hummed in response, “Have you told Leah?” “What do you think,” you asked her before Harper ran up to you.

Later that night you were lying in bed next to him, head resting on his shoulder as his finger drew soft circles on your hip, over your leggings, when your phone buzzed.

Steph: You need to tell Leah. I know you don’t want to, but just think about it this way, at least you won't be telling her in person. But no, I seriously think telling her sooner rather than later would be better.

You sighed after reading her message dropping your phone on the mattress next to you, you dreaded telling your sister, especially when you already barely spoke.

“What’s wrong,” he asked as you rolled on top of him, letting out a heavy breath.

“Steph figured us out and is insisting I tell Leah,”  “Oh, why don’t you want to tell Leah?” “Do you want to tell your brother?” “Shit no,” “Exactly,” there is a pause,  “but I do need to tell Leah, especially if I am going to go back when you go on holidays,”

“You can stay here, you know that right?”

“No, I have to go back. Barça wants to announce my departure officially anyway. I don’t have a choice,” you sighed out, “what if I messaged and then just threw my phone out”

“You know you can’t do that,” he chuckled softly, causing you to groan as you rolled off him.

“I don’t want to have to face them all, I ran away, they probably want nothing to do with me anymore anyway,”

“I don’t know if that’s true, Steph and Kyra were so happy and excited to see you today, so was the rest of the team but especially them.” he said and you nodded before he spoke again, “Well I don’t know about Charli, she was too busy catching up with Lachy to even notice you were there I think,” you laughed at his comment, you turned the TV onto the Arsenal match which was about to start as the pair of you feel into silence.

“Would you ever want kids?” he asked you out of the blue.

“Um, yeah, most likely, especially now it won’t be interrupting my career,” you tried to joke, “why?” “Oh, just curious, you were just really good with Harper and her little brother today, and I don’t know why but that thought came up. Also, doesn't Steph have a kid?” 

“Yeah, he stayed in London with Dean for this camp,” he just nodded as your attention both went back to the game.

____________________________________________________________

“What do you want for lunch?” Leah asked as you sat down in one of the kitchen stools as Leah and Lia walked into the kitchen. Leah had picked you up from the airport but as Harry was actually on holiday with his friends you went your separate ways, however you had a lunch planned for tomorrow with him, you, Leah and Lia.

“Not eggs,” Lia injected before you could answer, you were confused about her answer but just nodded anyway.

“Um, I don’t really care, I’m not that hungry anyway,”

They decided on Ham Sandwiches for lunch and as you ate you caught up with them, before ending up on the couch watching TV with them, they were still talking however you had fallen more silent, leaning into Leah’s side for a hug, “You okay? You’ve just gone a bit quiet and look a bit pale,” Leah asked looking down at you.

“Mmm, I’m just a bit tired,” you admitted.

“Why don’t you go up to sleep, we have no plans until tomorrow.” you nodded before moving to go upstairs.

______

“Bug you okay?” Leah asked as she sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing her hand over your face causing you to stir slightly.

“Mmmm, sorry do you want me to go?” you mumbled half asleep.

“No, it’s okay, you can stay in here, just wanted to check you were okay,” you nodded slightly before letting out a rather chesty cough, “you sure about being okay?” you just groaned at her before rolling over, feeling her slip in behind you and pull you in for a hug, it felt just like old times.

“What are you doing in here?” Leah asked as she entered the bathroom, obviously just waking up from her midday nap.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” you informed her.

“Oh, scoot forward,” she instructed you and you moved away from the wall. She sat behind you before pulling you onto her lap, you collapsed back into her, resting your head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you said breaking the silence as you turned your head on her shoulder so you could look at her, “I should’ve told you, you did some much for me, you were there for me my whole life and then I just up left, no warning, nothing, and then I basically ghosted you,”

“It’s okay,” she told you

“But it wasn’t, I even told you about Harry over text, the first thing I told you in months after not even telling you I could walk without crutches was that I had a-” “Boyfriend,” “Well yeah,”

“I understand, and I understood, it was hard, don’t get that wrong, but it isn’t the only time one of us has just upped and left, I think you’d remember how once I got my professional contract and I had to move, I didn’t tell you, I couldn’t bare to see your sad little face when I told you, so I just left, at least you had a reason, I didn’t have one at all, and you technically had two reasons, the injury and payback,”

“I forgot about that, but thank you for reminding me, I will use it if Mum or Dad get angry at me,” 

“Please don’t, but I do understand. You did it for you, you needed to find yourself, figure out who you were without football, which meant you needed to be separated from everything that reminded you of what was once, of what you loved and still love, and that included us, and it;s okay. I was never angry, I just really missed you, you’re still my baby sister, and no matter what happens you will still be the most important person in my life.”

“Oh,” you felt your gut sink at her confession, suddenly the feeling of being sick became very real, “I’m sorry,” you replied quietly as you moved your head back flat against her shoulder, staring at the ceiling. You felt your mouth fill with saliva and closed your eyes taking some deep breaths.

“Should we cancel lunch tomorrow?” Leah asked as you continued to take deep breaths knowing why you were.

“No,” you said as you shook your head, the nausea having finally passed, “I’ll be fine, I just need to sleep more,”

“Okay, also Lia has an appointment with the medics tomorrow just so they can do some checks and stuff, it's before lunch but you’ll probably have to come and just hang out at the club because otherwise we might be late to lunch,” you nodded your head before you felt yourself dozing off.

____

“Hey, how are you?” Aaron asked as he walked into the gym followed by Declan, you had decided to do some of your rehab exercises while you waited for Lia and Leah.

“Yeah, pretty good. You?” You replied kindly

“Alright, know much about your prospects yet?” he asked, referring to your hip, you froze, not knowing what to say.

“Um, not yet, still another month until I find out,” you lied, you had already been told, but you weren’t ready to tell anyone else yet.

As you continued with your exercises, you couldn’t help but notice your heart rate get faster and your chest get tighter as time passed. When you felt yourself slightly shaking you slipped out of the gym, sliding down the wall in the hallway, your actions didn’t go unnoticed by declan who quickly followed you out but walked past you down to the medics office. He returned following behind Leah, who bobbed down next to you before looking up at him.

“Please don’t tell anyone about what we were speaking about in there,” she asked him

“Of course I wouldn’t Leah, it’s your own personal information, I’m sorry for interrupting, it’s just that,” he gestured towards you, “and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“No thank you,” she said before shifting her focus to you.

“Hey, what's going on? You okay? Do you feel sick?” she asked in a soft, concerned voice, you couldn’t manage to speak so you just shook your head, “Take some deep breaths, you’re okay, it’s okay, nothing happened, you’re safe.”

“I can’t play,” you managed to get out after some deep breaths, the words almost immediately lifting a weight of your chest, “I’m never going to play again, I can’t,” you told her before breaking down into tears.

“Oh Bug, I’m so sorry,” she said as she pulled you in for a tight hug.

“How much longer are we here for?” you asked as you pulled away, having calmed down slightly.

“Probably ten more minutes. Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

“A little, once I was out long term the offers started to come out anyway but I haven’t really considered them. I’m thinking of coaching though, I just can’t decide,” Leah hummed in response to you, and you sat in silence, just embracing her presence until Lia came out.

____________________________________________________________

After you spoke with Leah and Lia about not playing it was decided you needed to ask someone who wasn’t affected by your choice in any way. So you decided on going to Barcelona at the same time as Harry, for different reasons though. Hoping Alexia could help and give you some guidance.

So that’s how you found yourself sat in your seat on the plane as it sat on the tarmac waiting to disembark, your right knee bounced up and down uncontrollably as you nervously looked up and down the aisle. When you felt a hand placed on your knee, you jumped slightly before relaxing into the touch slightly, “It’s going to be okay, stop worrying, from what you’ve told me they will only care that you are okay and safe, they might be slightly annoyed but they’ll understand.” You nodded whilst stilling looking around, “and remember you can call me at anytime and I can come to you at anytime you want me to, the boys won't mind, they might just make a condition that they have to meet the team if that occurs,” you both let out a light laugh at that.

As you walked out of customs his hand slipped into yours, and you dropped your head onto his shoulder, causing him to kiss your temple. Just ahead you saw Lucy, who had raised her eyebrows, ignoring her you turned to him and hugged him. “I’m going to miss you so much,” you mumbled into his neck, “Same, but remember you can call whenever you need and I’ll call every night,” you nodded before you pulled your head out of his neck and your lips connected, your legs lifting to wrap around his waist as he wrapped his arms around yours.

“All right you two, stop sucking face, we need to go,” Lucy said interrupting you.

You huffed at her and she gave you the same look she would give you when you huffed at her for not getting you second ice cream when you were younger at England camps.

“Didn’t take you as someone who would be into PDAs Mini Leah,” Lucy teased you knowing the nickname would set you off.

“Well Lucy, when you’re in love, those things don’t matter,” you replied to her dramatically as you followed her out of the airport.

____

Its safe to say walking into the place you called home two years ago was emotional, and as you stood there waiting for Lucy to get everything she needed out of the car, Alexia and Mapi walked by, however Mapi halted, she was stopped in her tracks, as she was behind alexia who hadn't noticed you, and kept walking.

“Ale, Alexia,” Mapi stood there calling for her, “Alexia” she shouted,

“Què (what)”, Mapi couldn’t do anything other than gesture to you with her head, Alexia came running back down the hall and froze when she saw you.

“What’s wrong with them?” Lucy asked as she finally walked through the doors.

They stuttered, not being able to get words out, Lucy just ignored them and pulled you along behind her, to the pitch, where everyone was celebrating. Making your way over to where Ingrid, Frido and Ona stood, all giving you a hug, before a small girl came running up to you, “opp, Klem,” she said whilst she made grabby hands at you, she was Ingrid and Mapi’s daughter.

“I’m sorry, I can’t pick you up because I have an ouchie hip,” you said as you looked at her softly before looking back up at your old teammates, who all gave you sorry looks.

“Please don’t do that, that’s not why I came,” you sighed out before walking over to where Olga was standing by herself.

“Hi,” she said as she smiled and hugged you, you caught Alexia looking at you with a concerned look from the corner of her eye, Lucy and Kiera were talking to her and Mapi, most likely about how you didn’t want to be treated differently etc.

“Hi, is she mad?” you asked Olga, stepping away from the hug slightly.

“What?” “That I didn’t come to the wedding?” “A little upset Si, but not mad, more concerned, but we understood.” you nodded at her “it did take a week to calm her down after she found out you left England, she wasn’t mad though, more scared of whether you were safe or not,” you nodded weakly as you bit your bottom lip.

“Bebita,” Alexia said as she came up to you hugging you, before standing between you and Olga, almost the whole team following behind, creating a circle as they all started talking, it felt just like old times, like no time had passed, but it had almost been two years, you were struggling to follow the conversation like you used to, having not used your spanish in so long, everything was bringing back old times, old memories, memories you wished you could keep living, but this chapter of your life was over now, you moved to stand in front of Alexia and hug her, she wraps her arms around you whilst continuing her conversations, your shoulders started to shake softly as you started to cry and everyone looked at her concerned however she shook her head, indicating for them to continue and ignore it. After a while you seemed to have managed to calm down and you pulled away from Allexia slightly, she cupped your face in her hands, “Whatever happens, it's going to be okay.” you gave her a weak nod before moving to stand next to her.

“We are going for dinner at Ingrid and Mapi’s tonight, most of the team will be there and I think Harder and Erikson are coming too, you can come if you want.” Alexia said as you entered the ever so familiar house.

“Um, okay,” you said as you placed your phone on the table and went to grab a drink from the fridge before hearing your phone ring, Alexia caught a glimpse of the screen as she handed it to you. She knew exactly who it was from the look on your phone, not who the person was but who they were to you.

“Don’t tell anyone please, not many know yet,” she nodded, “do I get to meet this boy?”

“Alexia,” Olga called out sternly from the living room, clearly she still was in charge, something that hadn’t changed.

“Maybe, I think his friends and him are going to the game this weekend,” you said before you answered the phone and retreated to the spare room noticing how it was still your room and not a spare room at all.

____

You were sitting on the floor with Hailee, having been dragged away from your conversation with Mapi, Ingrid, Alexia and Olga by the small girl into her playroom. Not that you really minded though.

“They’ve told you you can’t play again haven’t they,” you were startled slightly by the unfamiliar voice, looking up to see Madga leaning on the door frame.

“How did you know?”

“I don’t know, I just could tell, maybe because I only knew you as football, where as they knew you as football and you, so they can’t see it. Does anyone know?”

“Yeah, Lia and Leah, and someone else, and now also you supposedly,” you flatly replied.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” you looked at her blankly, “I’ll take that as nothing, what if you came over to Frido’s while the team is at training and Pernille and I help you decide, we have no connection, it could help,”

“Bayern don’t need a new coach?” she shook her head, and you just nodded slightly, “okay so it’s settled then,” she said before turning around, “Frido, do you have a big whiteboard at home? If no, we need to buy one before tomorrow morning,” you heard her yell out as she walked away.

____________________________________________________________

Having made your decision with the help of Magda and Pernille you returned to England with Harry. To tell Arsenal, after it was official, just not yet announced, you went for lunch with Leah, Lia and Harry to tell them all, Lia and Leah took it well however Harry jumped out of his seat saying he needed to be somewhere, and since he wouldn’t return your calls, so you had no clue if you would see him or not, maybe he was leaving you.

“Turn around,” Steph said as she saw Harry running to the facility doors where you were waiting for Lia and Leah to get out of the car, having a chat with Steph.

“Will you move in with me?” He blurted out, slightly puffed as he reached you.

“What?” You questioned not understanding what he meant.

“I didn’t answer your call, or your message or your subsequent calls because I was doing something, for you, for me, for us. Remember how I played Rugby Union in high school,” you nodded, “well, I wasn’t ignoring you because I was mad you took the job, I wasn’t ignoring you at all, I was trialling for a rugby club, so we could be together, I love you too much and you mean too much for me to go back halfway across the world from you. They offered me a contract, it isn’t the greatest, but it will do, anything that means I can stay with you is perfect,” tears started to fall from your eyes, “I’m sorry,” he said slightly panicking, questioning if he said something wrong.

“No, no,” you said as you shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck and picking your legs up “Thank you,” you mumbled into his ear before placing your head on his shoulder, not believing it.

“I’m assuming it worked?” Leah asked as she walked towards the three of you, he nodded in her direction as you let go, “ready to do this?” your sister asked as she looked at you and you nodded, starting to feel nervous agin.

____

“I’m coming back to Arsenal,” you told everyone as you stood in front of them, Harry standing on the sides, Jonas inisting he come in considering he was there already, they all cheered slightly before you interrupted them, “but not in the way you probably all want, I’m going to be part of the staff, the coaching team, I-,” your voice cracked, as you took a shaky breath “I won’t-, I-I can’t ever play again. I will never be able to play again, it’s uncertain whether I will be able to run without pain, let alone play,” you sniffed, you felt panic rise within you, “I’m sorry,” you said quietly before walking out the door tears streaming down your face, trying to ignore the looks of sorry, disappointment or confusion. Leah’s immediate reaction was to stand up and go to you, but Lia tugged her arm forcing her back down in her chair, gesturing to the figure that was rushing out the door after you. 

-

“I’m sorry, I-'' you blubbered out as someone came towards you, “Hey, none of that, baby none of this is your fault, and you literally have nothing to apologise about,” he said as he stood in front of you, you immediately fell into him at the sound of his voice and felt his strong arms hold you tight as you buried your head in his neck, he started swaying you and gave you a small kiss on the side of your head every now and then, trying to calm you down, knowing that was probably one of the hardest things you had to say, he knew you always wanted to finish your career at Arsenal, and now that was never going to happen, at least in the way you wanted, you would never be a Matilda again, you would never walk out onto a football pitch in the same way again, your goals were changing and you were struggling with that. He knew that, no matter how much you tried to hide your feelings.

The door creaked as it opened and Harry looked over to it, seeing Steph walk out, who handed him a water bottle as she gave him a soft smile before walking back into the room. He continued to sway you both slightly, keeping one hand around you as he took a quick sip from the bottle.

“Baby, do you want some water?” you nodded, taking the bottle of him and drinking out of it.

-

Leah was still inside crying into Lia’s shoulder, most people had left the room now giving everyone a bit of space. “Do you want to go home? Is this about what just happened or this morning?”

“All of it. It’s stupid, I just feel like I’m losing her now too, and it’s dumb, she was never mine in the first place but-” Leah confessed, before getting cut off by Lia.

“It’s not stupid Le, we have a lot of things happening in our life, a lot of news, and not a lot of time to process it all, it’s hard, and I know you feel like you have to be strong for her, for me, for us but you don’t, it’s okay,” Lia tried to reassure her.

“I shouldn’t be upset, I mean you're the one going through it all, and here I am complaining about my life.” Leah hiccuped.

“Hey, I might be the only one going through it physically but mentally we are both going through it, and you have more on your mind then I do, I understand, you don’t have to apologise for being upset, no matter if I’m experiencing worse, we are a team forever and always no matter what happens, no matter whether we have an addition to our team or not.” Leah nodded before pulling away from her and standing up noticing you had come back inside.

She pulled you towards you and wrapped you in a much needed hug, you didn’t want to let go, and neither did she.

____________________________________________________________

2028 Olympic Games

As the final whistle blew your players immediately ran over to you and your staff, celebrating as a team. 

Commentator One: And they’ve done it, the Matildas have won the Olympics for the second time in a row. 

Commentator two: Y/N Williamson has led the Matildas to victory after a drought, a much needed piece of silverware for the team that was starting to lose the country's hope.

It was a risky decision for Football Australia to choose you as new head coach, even you knew it, especially as you would only be joining the team in person at camp three weeks before the Olympics started, due to circumstances, but you started work much earlier than that, much to everyone's disbelief. You were however quickly ushered away from your team for a post match interview, causing you to catch sight of your sister who has collapsed onto the floor in tears. Taking a mental note to go over and comfort her later.

“Do you want to go see your Auntie?” You said to the two small people who clutched onto your hands as you walked onto the pitch.

“We-ah,” “we see Weah,” they piped up at the mention of her and you let go of their hands, “go on then,” you watched as they ran over to her, smiles bright, not knowing the meaning of the moment that just happened, them being so happy just to see their Aunt. 

“Alessia, hand the baby over,” you said to her as she held the newest addition to the Williamson family.

“Do you want to go say hi to your Mummy?” you asked the 3 month old as you placed her against your chest.

Leah’s face softened even more as she watched you approach her with her daughter, “you know, I’m never going to be able to thank you enough or repay you for this,” she said as you passed Lilly over to her, “but maybe you taking the gold away from me, means I don’t have to.”

“I told you, it’s nothing, honestly, you don’t have to repay me, buuut…..” you dragged on, she raised an eyebrow, “can you take the boys tonight, I have some celebrating to do,” you told her as she rolled her eyes.

“You literally carried our baby for us, I do owe you, and yes of course I’ll take the boys tonight, I need some quality time with them before they leave me for Australia,” she replied.

“It’s only two weeks, it's just a short camp, and it’s time we went on one of Daddy’s camps and meet all their uncles, but they honestly think they are meeting Kangaroos, they don’t quite understand that Wallabies is just the name of the team” she laughed at your comment before pulling you in for a hug. It sounds cliche but you knew in that moment your life had turned out perfect, it is nowhere near what you imagined but you honestly couldn’t have asked for anything better.

[glutengoblin]

Guilty As Sin, Sebastian Sallow X Reader (Part 1)

A/N: This one has been sitting in my drafts for waaaaay too long. Originally, I planned to make it just one complete part before posting. Given its length, I decided to split it up.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Thanks for all the love on my other pieces of writing, it means the world to me!

(She/her pronouns, house neutral)

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Some 18+ Content

Disclaimer: I am not Taylor Swift and therefore do not own the rights to "Guilty As Sin"

Though the Hogwarts library was typically where MC liked to study most, today she couldn’t capture her focus. At some point when she was working through the stack of parchments she needed to complete by the following Monday, the words had begun to blur indistinguishably together.

Studying alone was a complete drag. Placing her head on the desk, she resigned to taking a short break, in the hope that it might allow her to regain her focus.

She felt as if she had begun to blur into the background noise of the library herself. The gentle chatter of students working together, the occasional shush from Scribner, and the tap of quill pens against the desks nearby only served as a reminder of how quiet her life had been since it had all happened.

The events of her 5th year had hit her like a freight train; she felt as if that was the only appropriate way to describe it at that point. Learning that she had magical abilities (let alone ancient magical abilities), the nearly insurmountable weight of having to protect the wizarding world on her shoulders, and the eventual loss of her mentor was more trauma than any 15-year-old should have to endure. She knew that now. Yet, somehow, one of the worst parts of that trauma was trying to work through what was left of her shattered friendships.

Poppy, Natty, Garreth, and Amit had stuck around thankfully- she wasn’t entirely alone, and that much she was thankful for. Their crew managed to keep her mostly entertained, as there was a never-ending supply of mischief that they managed to get her into. Poppy always managed to find a way to add a new best to the vivarium. Figuring out their care was a constant challenge, and MC was thankful Deek was so willing to help in the endeavor. Natty, on the other hand, constantly dragged MC into the Forbidden Forest, hell-bent on ridding the Earth of the few Ashwinders that still meandered about the land. Garreth was… Garreth. That alone was enough to keep her on her toes.

Ominis and Sebastian… That was another story. Since the events occurred in the catacombs, Ominis and her had spoken occasionally in the undercroft, mainly trying to parse through what was left of Ominis’s shattered emotions, due to the betrayal he felt his best friend had committed. It was an effort to convince Ominis that they shouldn’t send Sebastian to Azkaban the moment he killed his uncle. He felt as if Sebastian had now sealed his fate towards turning into a dark wizard. However, once he calmed down a bit, Ominis seemed to conceptualize Sebastian’s decision as an act of self-defense; still, Ominis felt like their friendship was forever fractured beyond repair, and the boys hadn’t spoken since.

At first, MC had done her best to avoid being around, or even thinking about Sebastian. They had grown remarkably close during their 5th, honestly to the point where MC had found herself beginning to think of Sebastian as more than a friend. But after her fifth year, she needed time to try and process what he had done for herself. She kept her space, and he seemed to fall into their new rhythm. Gone were the days of playfully shoving each other as they walked the Hogsmeade streets, mouths full of pumpkin pasties. Instead, their relationship was reduced to glances across classrooms, followed by the occasional smile from Sebastian - but nothing more.

MC’s friends picked up on the obvious changes in behavior from her and Ominis towards Sebastian, and somewhere along the line, they had decided he was person non-grata. While none of them knew what he did, for Ominis and MC to turn their backs on him, they were forced to assume the worst. Thus, even if MC ever did want to try and close the gap, she felt like couldn’t. Part of the reason she adored her friends was because they had grown so protective of her since her fifth year- but she also resented it, feeling as if golden handcuffs now controlled her every move in regards to Sebastian.

The world blurred back into focus as Poppy plopped down beside her, looking over the papers strewn across the table. Poppy picked one up, examined it, and frowned.

“Seems like you’re a bit overwhelmed at the moment.” Poppy offered a small smile, receiving a laugh from MC in return.

“You could say that. I just need to get all of this done by Monday. And quite frankly, it's a lot.”

Poppy let out a soft melodic laugh. “I hate to break it to you, Y/N, but unfortunately that will be our future for the next year.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh, and flipped a page, examining its contents as she tried to pull the information from her mind. At this point, it was simply beyond her. Thankfully, she generally started her work early, and since it was only Thursday she decided it might be best to take a break. She began shuffling the papers into neater stacks, looking over at Poppy.

“I'm honestly not sure I can focus for much longer. How do you feel about a break? Perhaps a walk to Hogsmeade might be in order?” Poppy flashed a smile and began helping her friend pack up her papers.

“That sounds wonderful.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Although it was only September, there was slight a crispness about the air that spoke of fall in Scotland. Y/N savored her breaths, and the feeling of sunlight dancing on her skin, knowing that soon the area would be reduced to days full of rain. Though she adored the chillier fall days, colored by falling leaves and perfect for drinking tea, she was thankful she got outside while she could.

Poppy trotted alongside her, excitement evidently growing as they reached the Hogsmeade gates. The town was pretty rowdy for a Thursday, but that was likely due to the fact that it was the first-week students were back in Hogwarts. Most of them were likely retrieving supplies that they had forgotten to purchase before returning to school.

Y/N sighed, her thoughts wistfully returning to two years ago, almost to the exact day when Sebastian had been guiding her on that exact quest. While the troll attack had certainly put a damper on things, Y/N had greatly appreciated the time she got to spend with Sebastian. She knew from that point onwards that they would be great friends, or even something more. **She bit her lip at that additional thought, unsure of exactly where it had come from.

Truth be told, that was a lie. She had been eyeing Sebastian at the Great Feast earlier that week, and in their first few classes together. The transition to the seventh year had done something to him. Although she had always considered him attractive, he had grown taller and filled out a bit. While not overly muscular, the new changes certainly made him look older, something she found her thoughts wandering too over the past couple of days.

Y/N snapped out of her state of quiet contemplation when the pair reached Honeyduke’s. They were on the hunt for some treats to add to their stashes. Poppy made a beeline to the jelly beans, while Y/N took some time to peruse the chocolate frogs. Garreth had told her a rumor that apparently there was a way to determine which card each container held. The print supposedly differed slightly on each container, so Y/N leaned in to study the stack, trying to look for any hint of this supposed difference.

Eventually, she stood straight again to passivated the tinge of pain that played at her spine for bending over too long. To her surprise, she looked over the stack to find herself staring into a pair of familiar brown eyes.

“S-Sebastian?” Y/N choked out, caught a bit off guard by their sudden proximity. Although the stack of treats still separated them, this was closer than they had been in over a year. It was then that Y/N realized how tall he had grown - the difference was a bit startling now.

Sebastian stayed quiet for a moment, clearly considering his next words carefully.

“Y/N- I was hoping we’d run into each other at some point this year. I-I… I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” A look of shock crossed her face, before settling into an uncontrolled smile. Maybe this was the way to bridge the gap after this year.

“Alright… About what exactly?” Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but an instant later, Y/N felt an arm being looped through her’s. She looked over to see Poppy, who looked to be a mix of both uncomfortable and pissed. Poppy’s eyes traveled up and down Sebastian, obviously sizing him up.

“How do you do Sallow?” She asked, her voice dripping with more disdain than Y/N had expected to ever hear out of Poppy. Sebastian’s smile flattered for a moment, a glimpse of a frown crossing his lips before he gained control of his emotions again.

“I’m good Sweeting. It’s good to see you after so long.” Poppy offered a disingenuous smile, before turning to Y/N.

“Y/N, we must be going. I heard a rumor that there’s a sale on pet feed at The Brood and Peck. We must go before they run out. Bye Sebastian!”

With that, Poppy practically dragged her friend out on the street, spinning around to face her.

“What was he thinking! Suddenly speaking to you like that- after a whole year! The audacity.” She shook her head, as Y/N studied the ground, trying to decide on the best method to proceed with this conversation.

“It’s alright Poppy. Honestly, it was nice to see him again after so long.” Poppy frowned at that, clearly a bit distraught at that comment coming from Y/N.

“Look, I don’t know why you and Ominis stopped speaking to him, but it must have been bad to cause that big of a rift in your friendship. If it truly hurt you that much… I would just be careful around him. You really don’t need any more emotional turmoil in your life.”

Y/N sighed softly, running a hand through her hair as she thought about Poppy’s point. She had to admit, in a sense she was right.

“I’ll take your comments under advisory Poppy. Now, was there truly a sale at Brood and Peck?” Poppy instantly brightened up at the question, the frown melting from her face.

“Oh yes! You think I could lie about something like that? So, we must head over- we definitely need more fed for the vivarium before they run out.”

With that, the girls departed the front of Honeyduke’s. Y/N glanced back once they had taken a few steps, and swore that she could see Sebastian in the window, looking at them. But, she turned around to follow Poppy, figuring that the mystery of what Sebastian wanted to discuss would best be left to later.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A day later, Y/N was sitting in her dorm, polishing off the last of the stack of homework she had been working on the previous day. Although it felt lame to be doing work on a Friday night, rather than being out with her friends, Y/N enjoyed it. Getting all of her homework done now meant that she could enjoy the rest of her weekend.

Just as she was dotting her last Is and crossing her Ts, an owl flew in through her open window and dropped a letter in front of her. Y/N was a bit surprised, as typically she received mail in the mornings at breakfast. Needless to say, receiving a letter at this time of night was a bit strange.

Y/N opened the envelope, as the owl sat perched on her coat rack. To her surprise, she instantly recognized the handwriting, even a year later. It was Sebastian's.

“Dear Y/N,

I'm writing to you because we were unable to finish our conversation yesterday at Honeydukes.

I've been wanting to speak with you about what has transpired since 5th year, and mainly, I wanted to apologize for my behavior.

Y/N, I am deeply sorry for the way I pulled you into my schemes that year. It was unfair to you, and I shouldn't have taken advantage of your friendship like that. You're a true friend, and I had very few of those. So, I want you to know that I greatly appreciate everything you did for me.

Secondly, I'm assuming that part of the reason why you haven't spoken to me is because of what occurred in the catacombs. All I wanted to say was thank you. Over the past year, without you, Anne, and Ominis in my life, I've realized the error of my ways. That the path was dragging me further down, away from my family and friends - the people who matter most to me. I'm sorry.

I also feel horrible for not being there for you after Professor Fig's death. I know he was a great mentor to you, like a parent, and that it must have hurt very much. I feel horrible for not being able to support you through that time.

I'm hoping you can find it in your heart to forgive me. If that's not possible, I completely understand. If so, I wish you all the best in life. You deserve it.

Sincerely,

Sebastian Sallow”

Y/N sat there, a bit shell-shocked at what she had just read. There was no bit of that Sebastian snark in the letter. He seemed to be genuinely sorry, and trying his best to bridge the gap that formed between them.

Her heart fluttered a bit in her chest as she retrieved a fresh envelope and piece of parchment from her slightly broken desk drawer, and began to hastily write.

“Dear Sebastian,

While I admit it was difficult to come to terms with what happened 5th year, I feel as if I finally can.

Your apology is much appreciated, but I should also apologize to for abandoning you in what must have been one of your darkest times. That is not the actions of a true friend, and I am deeply sorry.

While I certainly think that things are more complicated now, I believe I'm ready to try and be friends again.

Best,

Y/N”

She quickly sealed the envelope with a press of wax, then gave it to the owl along with a stray carrot she kept around for her own. She felt bad that she had kept the owl waiting for so long, but as it flew off into the darkening sky, she knew she had made the right choice. Keeping Sebastian waiting for a reply till the next day seemed unnecessarily cruel.

Given her work for the day was finished, she decided that she might as well get ready for bed. Ominis had asked for her assistance with something tomorrow, and though she was unsure of the task entailed, she wanted to be well rested.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The next morning, Ominis approached her, as she sat on a bench reading a book. Although it was already after breakfast and she had gone to bed at a decent hour, Y/N hadn't gotten good rest. Truth be told, she was up most of the night, twisting and turning at the thought of Sebastian's letter.

Being friends again was a thought that excited her. She had missed his snarky comments and excitement about activities like crossed wands. But, rebuilding their friendship would also be difficult. Not only did they have to work through their own messes of emotion that were left with the trauma, but also Y/N had to mind her other friends. Based on Poppy's reaction the other day, she figured it might be best to keep the information that she and Sebastian had reconnected to herself.

Y/N was startled from her train of thought when Ominis approached her, and cleared his throat.

“Good morning, Y/N. I appreciate you meeting me here today.”

Smiling up at Ominis, she shut her book and stood.

“Of course. May I ask what it is you want help with?”

Ominis nodded, and then began working towards what Y/N knew to be the entrance to the undercroft. “I was hoping we could finally get the place neatened up a bit. I feel as if we’ve basically abandoned it since the events of 5th year- occurred. One day, some new Hogwarts students may happen upon it, and I want to ensure that we’re setting our best possible foot forward. Is anyone around?” He asked, as they approached the entrance. Y/N glanced around, determining that the coast was clear, and they descended into the opening.

The undercroft had developed a solid layer of dust since they had last visited. Crates were still stacked haphazardly across the floor. The place had once been such a comfort to Y/N, so welcoming. She, Ominis, and Sebastian used to spend hours of their time there, studying, laughing, and simply enjoying each other’s company. Now, it was reduced to simply a storage place.

Y/N glanced over at the triptych, only for a second, as the memories from their escapades 5th year came flooding back. Though she didn’t miss that period of her life, she realized then that she did truly miss how close she and Sebastian had been.

Shaking herself loose, she inquired what Ominis wanted to start cleaning first. Walking forward, she began to rid the space of the crates, replacing them instead with a new set of training dummies. The candles were soon replaced too, with newly conjured unused ones. The two continued working, determined to make the space they once held so dear comfortable again.

Soon enough, the undercroft was sufficiently cleaned to their liking. Y/N had even conjured a few new pieces of furniture, which were scattered around the place. A new couch, with a coffee table and matching chairs, were perhaps the best additions. Y/N and Ominis were certainly thankful for it as they took a break, admiring their work.

“I think it looks great.” Y/N smiled, patting her friend on his hand.

“So do I.” A smile crossed Ominis’s features as Y/N let out a chuckle at his joke.

“I’m sure it does.” She paused for a few seconds, considering her next words carefully. “It doesn’t quite feel right without Sebastian though… Does it?” That earned a curious look from Ominis, who thought for a moment before shaking his head.

“I still have yet to speak to him since everything happened… But I suppose you’re right. It does feel strange to be in here and not hear his quite annoying voice bouncing off the walls.”

Y/N sighed, slightly regretting bringing up the topic, as she knew how heartbroken Ominis had been at Sebastian’s indiscretions. Still, she felt as if they had to discuss it at some point. “Ominis…Have you spoken to Sebastian since it all happened?”

Ominis let out a sigh, his face now turned away from her as he seemed to search his brain for the correct words. “He actually sent me a letter.”

Shock spread over Y/N’s face, as she turned to grab his hand, urging him to continue. “He did…?”

“I- Yes. A couple of days ago. He sent me an owl. Said that he deeply regretted all the pain he had put me through- said he wished that he had been a better friend to me, and listened to my concerns. If I’m being honest… I still haven’t responded. I’m not really sure how to. Part of me wants to forgive him. He was my best friend- but I’m not sure I should… Not after everything.” Y/N could see tears play at the corners of his eyes, as Ominis seemed to contemplate his statements.

“I… that must be difficult. I’m sorry Ominis.” She bit her lip, silently cursing herself for what she was about to say. “Please let me know what you decide to do, I’ll support you either way.”

In some ways, Y/N already knew that was a lie. When it came to Sebastian, she could never find it in herself to be logical. And now, especially since he had apologized to her so sincerely, she could already feel herself slipping back into the grasp of her emotions for him. Truly, she didn’t know what would happen now that Sebastian had sent them both letters… But she hoped for the best.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Later, Y/N returned to her dorm room to find another letter bearing the same crest as yesterday, perched on her desk. She sat down, retrieving her letter opener, hands shaking slightly at the fear of the contents.

“Dear Y/N,

I appreciate your forgiveness more than you could ever imagine, and your apologies, although they are unwarranted.

I’m not quite sure how to approach this “becoming friends again” thing, since I’ve never done it before. So, I suppose I should just start with simple questions: How are classes going for you this semester? Do you still love pumpkin pasties? Are you still afraid of spiders, even fighting off so many of them?

I look forward to your response.

Best,

Sebastian :) “

Y/N smiled to herself at the awkwardness that radiated from his writing. It seemed as if the ever-confident Sebastian Sallow had finally met the match of his charm.

As she sat thinking of a response, her quill twisting in her hand, she considered just how she should approach it if Sebastian asked to meet in person. Ominis still had his own decisions to make regarding forgiving him. Her friends still seemed to feel questionable about him. All factors combined, she felt that it was definitely the right decision to keep the knowledge of their correspondence to herself for a bit until she could figure out how to better approach the situation. She was glad she didn’t admit anything to Ominis.

With that thought through logically, she began working on her letter, eager to send it out before nightfall- Hopefully, that would mean yet another reply from Sebastian that night.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“Y/N. Thanks for meeting me here- you don’t know how much it means to me.” Sebastian took a step forward in the dim light of the undercroft, reaching out to gently brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t know how much I’ve been hoping that someday you could forgive me. I know I’m horrible, and I’m the last person that deserves your time… But I… I want you to know that I love you.”

The next thing she felt was the press of his lips against her’s. As if on instinct, her arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down to her height and further into the kiss. Sebastian stalled for a second as she increased the intensity, before eventually catching up by wrapping his arms around her waist, clinging to her as if she was his last shot of life.

Eventually, the kiss broke, and Sebastian studied her eyes. “Y/N… as much as I love you, you need to wake up now.”

Y/N stared at him blankly, her mouth slightly agape. “Sebastian… What do you mean-?”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Next thing Y/N knew, she was sitting stick straight up in her bed, her breath coming in in panic gulps. She surveyed her surroundings, still reeling from the dream that felt more realistic than any dream she had experienced to date. After a few more breaths, she was able to compose herself- that is until she realized that there was more sunlight than usual streaming through her blinds and until she saw the time on her clock.

With ten minutes to make it to potions before she was late, Y/N was sure that she had never managed to get ready so quickly.

When she finally plopped down next to Poppy in her normal seat, the Hufflepuff looked extremely worried. While Y/N could look disheveled from time to time (often a symptom of her many adventures in the highlands), this was a worse state than Poppy had ever seen her in.

Glancing at Sharp first to ensure he was too busy lecturing to notice, Poppy nudged her friend gently, her brown eyes pooled with concern. With a hushed tone, she whispered, “Y/N- Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Y/N looked startled by Poppy speaking to her, but managed to get her bearings back quickly. “I’m fine Poppy- I just had an interesting dream is all. Now let's hush before Sharp yells at us… again.” Poppy nodded in response, but her face was still painted with worry.

But, she relented and tried her best to focus on the complex lesson of yet another potion that she would never have any application for.

Though the lesson lasted for another hour, ‘an hour too long’ Poppy thought, she didn’t forget about her strange interaction with her friend. Not wanting to push her for more information, since that never really seemed to work with Y/N, Poppy decided to discuss the matter with Natty instead.

As students were finally filtering out of the classroom, Poppy made sure to catch up with Natty, gently pulling on her robes to get her attention. “Natty… would you mind having a quick conversation with me? It’s about Y/N… I’m worried.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Despite the fact that Poppy’s behavior made Y/N feel like she was onto her, Y/N decided to spend the rest of her day as normally as possible. As normally as possible, that is, with thoughts of Sebastian crowding her mind.

She was in a daze throughout all of lunch, barely noticing when Garreth had managed to concoct something that turned a 1st year’s head blue. She could hardly focus through the rest of her classes that day. Even crossed wands couldn’t get her to feign her attention. She barely even reacted when Leander Prewett was shot across the room, which on any other day would have been the highlight of her day.

Instead, she waited for the hours to pass, since the thoughts didn’t seem to. His lips, his hands, his smile, his messy brown hair - each minute detail that made him up. She begged for time to speed up, hoping that the sweet relief of sleep might free her from her mental prison.

By the time she finally made it back to her dorm, she hardly even wanted to open the letter that Sebastian had sent that evening. But, given it was now a cherished part of her routine, she felt as if she should.

There was nothing substantial in it, especially compared to where her thoughts of him had been leading. Instead, it was simply a continuation of the conversation they had been having the previous evening- a drabble about the Holyhead Harpies, and various other quidditch teams. One’s they had both followed during their fifth year. Discussions of quidditch had been a sweet relief during the torment of those long months. Despite not having ever played the game herself, Y/N felt connected to it- truth be told Sebastian’s enthusiasm for the sport probably had something to do with her sudden interest during fifth year.

Y/N wrote a quick reply, figuring he was owed at least that, before resigning herself to going to bed. She readied herself for sleep hurriedly, craving the sweet release of a free mind.

Only it wouldn’t come. Instead, her mind was riddled with even more intense thoughts of him. Of his hands on her, touching her places that no one had before. His hands running down her form, savoring her curves. A thumb, gently caressing her cheek. And, perhaps worst of all, his fingers tracing letters on her thigh. With a shiver going down her spine, she realized he was spelling out “mine”.

Eventually, Y/N woke at 3 am, her mind likely deciding that it couldn’t bear any more of the torment her mind had to offer. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, it seemed pointless to try to sleep again. Trying to set herself to something productive, she realized that she did need a few potion ingredients - specifically ones that were harder to procure. Specifically, ones that required a trip to one of the places Hogwarts students were not allowed to go: the Forbidden Forest.

“Well,” she murmured to herself, “might as well go while I’m least likely to be caught.” Once she had made her decision, she set to prepare herself. A thick coat, scarf, and socks per usual, and a couple of extra wiggenwelds for good measure.

Thankfully the common room was deserted as she decided to take the floo flame, opting to land near the entrance to the forbidden forest.

Perhaps youthful ignorance was why she never felt scared of the area - after all, it was significantly more dangerous than staying in the castle. But Y/N was always confident in her ability to defend herself. Never once had she wanted to be considered a fragile flower. Thus, even though the area was eerily quiet, enough so to give her momentary pause, she decided to continue.

She had begun her way through the forest, quickly picking out a couple of the ingredients she needed for her stock. For some reason, she always found foraging calming. Perhaps it was because it was an activity that always seemed to take her thoughts off the tumultuous events during 5th year.

She leaned down, collected some mushrooms with a few swipes of her pocket knife and placed them into her pouch. Yes, of course, she could have used her wand, but sometimes she felt the use of muggle tools was more therapeutic. It made her feel more connected to the plants that she was oh-so-carefully collecting.

She made her way deeper and deeper into the forest until she began to have the off-putting feeling that something or someone was following her. At this point, the heavy tree cover had completely blotted out the lights from Hogwarts. She cast her gaze around and when she failed to detect anyone she continued her trek until she stumbled upon a poacher camp.

Quickly disillusioning herself, she fel into a crouch behind a tree, studying the scene before her. There only looked to be 2 or 3 poachers at the camp, with a puffskin gently whining in a cage off to the left side. Y/N winced when a poacher approached it and kicked it.

“Oi, quit your yapping.” He yelled at the poor beast, who trembled under the gaze of his captor. Y/N decided then that they would be an easy target.

She moved a bit closer, before revealing herself. The first two barely stood a chance against her, as she quickly transfigured one into a barrel and sent him flying towards the other. The third one wasn’t so easy it turned out.

Out of nowhere, five more figures appeared. A couple more poachers… And a couple of Ashwinders. Y/N ducked, letting out a yelp as she barely avoided being sliced in half by a diffindo thrown her way.

Though Y/N had faced much worse than this (she had taken down Ranrok, after all), she knew this battle was going to be difficult. Her lack of sleep and stress over the double life she was once again living were eating at her in strange ways. She felt herself growing weaker, trying her best to conjure up her ancient magic. To her dismay, the power didn’t want to respond. She tried her best, managing to take down the other poachers with a clever combo. But when an incarerous managed to hit her, she went tumbling to the ground, hitting her head hard.

The last thing she saw before everything went black was a flash of messy brown hair, green robes, and warm brown eyes that could only belong to one person.

Sebastian.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[jermer10]

OMG VAMPIRE READER X SUPPORT TEAM 🤭🙏🙏🙏🙏

TF2 support team with a vampire reader

gn reader | I LOVE VAMPIRES <3

includes: medic, sniper, spy

drabbles under the cut :P

Medic: - vampire hunter x vampire - medic comes from a long line of vampire hunters. what he should feel when he sees you is the seething hate of your kind being allowed to roam free under the guise of being any normal person - what he actually feels is a vile fascination towards you, something on the borders of love and science - he studies you, stalks you, charts your every move, feeding habits, who you turn, which surprisingly is no one - this comes as genuine shock to medic, knowing only that vampires seek to turn as many as they can as to kill humans off - yet you are different, you feed as much as you need, enough to make someone anemic, sure, but never to kill. never to turn. - he begins to think of you as his ultimate trophy, a gift sent by god to test him and his loyalty, to be his bride - you must had been saving yourself for someone, someone special, someone like him - and so medic made up his mind that he must have you for himself - little does he know you've had a keen eye on him as well

Sniper: - immune x vampire - you took interest in him first, looking for a feed and on the brink of starvation you come across his lone campervan and give the fly screen door a gentle and unassuming knock - when he opens you're greeted by a shotgun to the face and a man looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely pissed - "who the fuck are you?" the question was short and sweet, clearly he wasn't susceptible to being charmed - you came up with some made up story, whatever it took to get inside that camper so that you could eat - with a cautious look and a loosening of the grip on his gun, he moved aside and with a grunt of acknowledgement, he let you in - you tried to wait until he fell asleep but the man was intent on remaining wide awake, observing your every move, you were starving, your body eating away at itself every passing moment - eventually it became too much, you lunged at him, sinking your teeth into the exposed crook of his neck, attempting to draw something, anything - but there was nothing there, as if some sponge like material blocked your access to his arteries - "im immune to you cunts" he huffs before you're knocked out cold

Spy: - vampire x vampire - spy doesn't turn many people, so when he does it's an act of possession. when he decided to turn you though, it was different - he had planned to eat you from the moment he saw you, plump, ripe, and ready for picking, until you actually spoke to him - your voice drew him in, the concerned gasp that escaped your throat upon noticing how pale and gaunt he looked - the way your soft hand felt against his cool skin as you pulled him inside your apartment - the smell of your bedroom as he forced down the dinner you cooked for him, savouring the bottle of red wine you had so generously provided - he couldn't stop coming back to you, once a week he would come by, relishing in your presence, the thought of sucking your body dry only occurred to him in the ways mortal men ravage their women - and so one night he tells you everything, about how he was going to eat you, about the vampirism, about the genuine love and passion he had grown to hold for you - he extended an offer to you for you to become a vampire - and thankfully you accepted

[ozzgin]

Ozzgibz my lord may we have just one more crumb of pickle content pls pls pls🙏🙏🙏

Like I have an idea, reader as pickles mother🧐 like like like U wake up together after many many years

Not just a crumb, but an entire loaf! :D I will use this chance to finally finish all of the Pickle related requests I currently have. (At least I hope I haven’t omitted anything). So you may consider this a Pickle megathread, containing multiple requests put together.

Pickle Headcanons: A collection

Featuring Pickle and Reader: Pickle’s Mother! Reader, Pickle trying modern treats, Pickle and his newborn, Pickle x Student! Reader and Pickle x OP! Reader.

Pickle’s Mother! Reader

You wake up surrounded by heavy, intricate machinery and at a certain point it occurs to you just how long your slumber has been. Ah, that explains the peaceful, uninterrupted rest. You can’t recall the last time you slept this well. And, like clockwork, you hear the humans scream mere seconds after you stretch your rusted bones. A familiar growl jolts you back into action. Being frozen for millennia sadly doesn’t strip you of your motherly role.

With a groan, you rip the medical cords away from your body, indifferent to the frightened stares of the scientists currently unsure of your intentions. They needn’t be afraid for long. With the calculated movements of someone that has been doing this one too many times, you walk towards the source of ruckus and return with Pickle under your arm. It’s almost as if you’re wearing an invisible hero cape: the research team can finally relax knowing Pickle’s fearsome mother is here to keep him under control.

This arrangement now poses an interesting dilemma: how will the fights unfold under the watchful gaze of a protective, Jurassic mom? Should the fighters be worried about a vengeful counterattack if they’re too hasty with your son? The first one to test the waters is Retsu, and before he enters the arena you place a heavy hand on his shoulder, briefly guiding him aside. He nervously watches your gestures as you pretend to beat up an invisible opponent. Are you showing him potential punishments? Then you give him a friendly nudge and point to Pickle. Realization sinks in and he stares at you, wide eyed. You’re giving him advice on how to give Pickle a proper beating. Well, obviously. If they’re going to challenge your menace of a son, they should at least make it worthwhile. Rough him up a little. At the end of the day, it’s less work for you.

Pickle tries modern treats

Pickle would probably lose his mind with any carbonated drink or sweet flavor. He never had access to this amount of sugar, so I’m wondering if he’d think it’s poisonous once he becomes agitated from the abrupt intake. Nice, exquisite smell and a vibrant color that tempts him enough to give it a try. Next thing you know, the liquid sizzles in his mouth and he panics, but eventually settles down. Then his heartbeat increases and he’s squirming under the confused stares of the fighters (who initially offered him the drink), until Professor Payne points out his body might not be accustomed to our levels of sugar. The real trouble starts once he can handle the unhealthy snacks, because someone will have to stop him from overeating. (To be fair I’ve also never had a Baja Blast, seems less popular/available in Europe but it looks nice.)

Pickle unable to care for his baby

They say your life flashes before your eyes as you die and you certainly gazed upon a delectable bunch of recollections when the prehistoric man swung his massive body towards you, growling threateningly. They were hoping the fighters could keep him entertained long enough for you to feed the baby, but it seems his fatherly instincts (that he’s otherwise lacking) trumped his need for battle. Thankfully, he stops right before his clawed hand touches your frightened face. For the first time he sees his newborn eating, the puffy cheeks expanding with each gulp of the mysterious bottled liquid you’re providing.

Well, if all you’re doing is feeding his child, he might as well keep you around. You certainly don’t look like a threat, even less so than the men he just faced in the Arena. To the relief of everyone witnessing the spectacle, you get to live and handle the baby. Not like you have significantly more experience when it comes to taking care of infants, but with the help of the scientists you manage to ease Pickle into his parenting role.

All this time spent together has reminded Pickle just how much he misses the presence of a second parent. The baby likes you, you seem to be rather knowledgeable about these matters, and you’re extremely cute if he is to be fully honest with himself. The Jurassic man can’t help the faint smile gracing his features whenever he pictures it: you make a nice family, wouldn’t you agree?

Pickle x Student! Female Reader

You’ve learned to ignore the bewildered stares. Thankfully, this time, the only unusual sight consists of Pickle’s gargantuan size and nothing else. He’s dressed in modern attire and has since learned to behave better in public. You recall the first encounters, where an almost naked Jurassic creature kept following you around and wouldn’t take no for an answer. It took you several weeks to figure out he’s interested in you, and you eventually relented. Naturally you couldn’t have gone outside with a wild jungle beast donning a fundoshi and nothing else. So you did your best to instill modern customs into your new boyfriend.

And, for the most part, it worked. He’s sitting with you on a campus bench, politely waiting for you to finish your rough sketch. He enjoys watching your drawing process, especially if he’s the subject of the piece. A giddy feeling overwhelms him, almost as if he’s being physically touched with each stroke of the pencil. The fact that you observe him so carefully, and then somehow reproduce the image so accurately on paper…It entertains him greatly. Sadly he can’t return the favor. You’ve offered him drawing tools before in case he wanted to join your creative hobby, but there was no dormant Botticelli in his soul waiting to be awakened.

While he may not share your artistic inclination, you can at least be assured that no threat will ever reach your proximity again. His hands were built for battle and he makes sure you witness this truth on every occasion. No fight begins without your presence in the Underground Arena. As much as you feel for his battered opponents, the whole ordeal results in very neat action frames. You leave the matches with brand new batches of doodles. Who would’ve thought you’d find your muse in a prehistoric man? Additionally, if you ever need some extra cash, there’s always the option of delving into erotic art. After all, you have access to any reference you could ever need and Pickle would be most eager to help you.

Pickle x OP! Reader

@mariahvilla569

So this was a little difficult because I wasn’t sure whether Reader is overpowered in relation to someone in particular or just the whole Bakiverse. I went for a Reader who’s stronger than everyone else.

Pickle was very confused when he met you for the first time, standing in the audience of the Underground Arena to observe his match with Retsu. He was instantly smitten and was about to discard any intention of a fight to immediately pursue you instead, but he was stopped by multiple men forming a barrier before you and an angered Retsu demanding his undivided attention. He assumed you must be someone’s partner and therefore he’ll have to win his way to you. He couldn’t have guessed in a million years that you were politely allowing everyone else to have their fun before you swiftly cashed in your victory.

You did have enough grace to take your time with the prehistoric man. He doesn’t doubt that if you so desired, you could’ve ended the battle within mere moments; but just like the rest of the men, you wanted your fair share of entertainment. This way Pickle was also offered a sample of your exquisite skills, which made all the fighters before you fade into nothingness. Truly astonishing that a human half his size would tower above him in terms of raw power. He was left beyond impressed and his initial crush has avalanched into a full blown obsession.

Just because you’re stronger doesn’t mean he can’t fulfill the duties of a protective partner. Consider it a way to efficiently save time, as whoever isn’t strong enough to get past him isn’t worth your precious time. Not to mention that Pickle has come to view your sparring sessions as a special form of intimacy reserved for him and you only. If you need to train, he should suffice as an opponent. There’s no one else as sturdy as him, and you’re always in a great mood after a proper fight, so he’d be an utter fool not to take advantage of it.

[jaylienpotter]

From @jegulus-microfic prompt "skirt" | 600 words

Part 1 of Let them be (can be read as a standalone)

Part 2 >

Let boys wear trousers

Regulus Black hated the Hogwarts uniform. Absolute despised it. He could hide his chest with spells or tight bras or bigger clothes - thankfully he had small breasts already. But he couldn't do anything about the bottom part. He had asked Dumbledore himself to wear trousers instead but he was denied, as it was "tradition" and "the school rules" and Ms. Black was probably "confused" - fucking prick.

He wasn't fully out. His friends knew and called him by the name he chose. So did Sirius and his mates. At first people slipped, calling him by his deadname and used she/her pronouns. It didn't last long, though. And thankfully it barely happened at all with his brother. None of their friends had a problem with it, thankfully. But it was still hard to connect to people. Fully connect.

Tears of frustration were running down his cheeks after he left the Headmaster's office.

"Black?" He looked to his left and faced a tanned Gryffindor with round glasses. Potter was Sirius's best friend. "Black, are you okay?" James got closer to the boy, his voice sweet and comforting, dark eyebrows furrowed with worry.

"Dumbledore is a bloody fucking prick!"

"Regulus, what happened?" The people he was out to called him by his last name when in public, but they were close enough that others wouldn't hear.

"He won't let me wear trousers. Transphobe. It doesn't even make sense! Some girls don't like skirts! It's such a fucking stupid rule!"

"Hey…" two big hands rested on his shoulders and he looked up for the first time. "It's okay, we'll fix this somehow. I'll talk to Mcgonagall, she can convince that old man sometimes."

"You can try but it probably won't work…" Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Black pulled himself together. Like he was taught. "It doesn't matter. I'll be fine." That was a lie and they both knew it. Still no one said anything as he walked away.

Pandora was lovely. She did her best to cheer him up in the dorm but the fact that he was sharing with a girl brought him dysphoria. Regulus didn't belong there.

It's an understatement saying that he was shocked when he saw James Potter strutting confidently into the Great Hall for breakfast wearing a skirt. What the fuck was he doing?!

"Potter. Why in the name of Merlin are you wearing a skirt?! You're going to get detention!"

"See, Black, I am protesting. Until girls are allowed to wear trousers, I will be breaking the dress code." He blinked. Regulus blinked twice. His heart stopped and the way he saw his brother's best friend suddenly shifted. He was protesting for Regulus. Getting in detention for Regulus. Most likely would face hate, all for Regulus. Yet he was completely unfazed. Potter wasn't stupid. He knew what he got himself into. But still, he did it anyway?

"But… Why? I mean- where did you even get the skirt??"

"It's Mary's. And I felt like it. Occurred to me randomly. Was bored so I thought 'why not start a protest?', you know?" That was a big fat lie and the Gryffindor wasn't even trying to hide it. He wore a wide smirk on his face. Gosh, how Regulus wanted to kiss those lips. Instead he just smiled. His genuine curved down smile, a rarity.

"You're gonna get in trouble, you know that right?"

"Since when do I, James Potter, the king of mischief, care about that?" That grin again. Black could stare for hours, take in every detail of the handsome Gryffindor's face.

"You're an idiot."