#hoping for glimpses of eight in the ones leading up to it

[misshoneyimhome]

「2️⃣5️⃣0️⃣ FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION」

"Why can't you just do what you're being told?" I William Nylander (🔥)

Summary; Sometimes, a push can make all the difference, even within the realm of relationships.

Tropes & warnings; smut 18+, friends-with-benefits, friends to lovers, fighting to sex (is that a thing?); mention of masturbation, unprotected sex (p in v), spanking, more unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving);

Other notes; This one's for you, styles217, my love.🤍 Although it didn't end up as angsty as I'd envisioned 🙈, I hope you still enjoy it 🤞🏼 Surprisingly though, it ended up containing more smut than I initially planned, thanks to the requests I chose to combine it with [“take it out on me” I “I will never get enough of you” 🔥] - And no, I don’t actually think anyone on the coaching team would say something like this, and I’ve got no idea if anyone on the internet would react in such way; but for the plot of the story, they did 🤍

Knock on wood for not jinxing the winning streak ✊

Word count; 4.1K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

It had been quite a week. The Leafs had been on the road for a week, still keeping up their winning streak, which exceeded everyone's expectations. But even from the comfort of your sofa, you could sense that the games were getting more intense.

It was becoming clearer that the playoffs were getting closer. And suddenly, you noticed new aspects of your beloved William Nylander.

**

William had always been a talented ice hockey player. He might as well have been born with skates on his feet because the ice rink was his natural habitat. At just 16 years old, hockey became his first real profession, following in his father’s footsteps with aspirations of greatness.

And now, with his latest eight-year contract extension playing for the Maple Leafs, he was having the best season of his career.

Watching him play was almost magical - Every goal he scored or assist he made showcased his deep passion for the sport. And to you, he was simply an incredible person. 

Despite the challenges that came with the fast-paced lifestyle, being part of William’s world felt nothing short of amazing. Over the past six months, the two of you had developed some sort of a bond, and there was nothing else you would have traded it for.

William Nylander had stolen your mind and soul from the moment he walked into the quaint coffee shop one early Wednesday morning before a training session. As he was completely exhausted and absent-minded, he inadvertently reached for something that appeared to be his drink, however as it turned out it was your coffee. With a gentle laugh and a charming smile, you kindly asked the handsome hockey player not to take it and encouraged him to enjoy his own instead.

Which then had turned out to be great a conversation starter, leading to a casual dating slash sort of a friends-with-benefits arrangement. Nothing too intense, just two consenting young adults enjoying each other's company, indulging in mind blowing sex, and relishing in easygoing conversations and hangouts.

However, perfection is elusive. Despite William's charm, kindness, and humour, he had a temper. Which you had only glimpsed bits of before, with penalties and a few snappy comments after tough losses.

But what happened during the Coyotes match was on another level.

William didn’t just receive penalties, but he suddenly also reacted aggressively to the pushes he usually shrugged off. He pushed back forcefully, his eyes blazing with anger.

And to your surprise, you found it incredibly arousing. Your cunt even tingled as William pushed the Coyote player, and a scuffle broke out among other players.

Never before had a hockey match stirred such arousal in you. And to top it off, the Leafs emerged victorious.

That night, thoughts of William's roughness lingered, leading you to touch yourself, and reaching an orgasm in a way you hadn't experienced before. The sheets beneath you were soaked as you moaned William's name into the emptiness with a whimper.

**

The game against Arizona was then followed by another impressive win, this time against the Knights, and then furthermore; a victory over the Avalanches after three thrilling periods, bringing the road trip to a satisfying conclusion.

Yet, as entertaining as it was to follow William and the team, it paled in comparison to being back in Toronto with him, where you could finally be intimate again.

And already Sunday afternoon you found yourself back at his place after he had a lie-in and taken care of the dogs. Entangled on his ample couch, his lips passionately locked with yours as your tongues explored each other with every shared breath.

With William on top of you, your fingers entwined in his blonde locks as he moved his warm mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking and nipping, eliciting sweet noises from you.

He was insatiable. After a week of being apart, William craved the feeling of you wrapped around him, longing to reach his own release in the midst of passion.

Clothes littered the floor of the living room, and despite the TV show still playing in the background, your moans filled the space of his condo. His two doodles lounged in a basket nearby as William guided his hard, throbbing member to your tight entrance.

Feeling William's hands on you again was nothing short of amazing. His mouth expertly melded with yours as his cock stretched you, sending waves of pleasure through your body with every thrust.

It was intense and messy. Bodies slick with sweat as you passionately connected on the sofa. His movements were determined, rough, and primal as he straightened his position, one leg on the floor, the other knee on the cushion, holding one of your legs against his chest while the other wrapped around his waist, thrusting mercilessly into you.

Your hands eagerly searched for something to grip onto, settling on the pillow behind your head as your mind blurred and your body melted for him.

You moaned loudly, the sounds mixing with the TV as you reached the peak of orgasm. But William didn't let you rest for a moment. Instead, he increased his intensity, feeling himself nearing the edge as your muscles tightened around him. And with heavy breaths, he thrust vigorously until he reached his climax, releasing his cum into you.

The intensity of the moment was palpable as you both took a few minutes to come down from the high and regain control of your breathing. It was a prime example of how raw and amazing your sex could be – effortless yet dirty, filled with desire.

And what came after was even better: William's tenderness as he caressed your curves in the post-sex shower was almost romantic. The way he caressed every inch of your skin was incredibly arousing, washing away the remnants of your sofa session. And then, he kneeled before you, placing hungry kisses on your core.

It was an added treat he provided, indulging in a late-night snack before you settled in for the night, knowing that Monday morning and the workday would soon be upon you.

**

It was another day of facing adult responsibilities at work, with the excitement of hockey on hold until reuniting with William in the afternoon.

However, while your day passed uneventfully, William found himself stirred by something deeper. His recent behaviour during matches hadn't gone unnoticed, and while fights were often accepted in the sport, comments about William being 'out of character' emerged.

Social media buzzed with opinions about him; criticising his usual calm demeanour, suggesting it wasn't present to support the team during heated moments, and deeming his actions as outrageous.

Which ignited William's temper. Despite his stellar performance in recent games – scoring goals and providing assists – he felt unjustly criticised. And more over it seemed that every attempt to express confidence in his own game was met with accusations of selfishness and 'overconfidence'.

It simply seemed William couldn't strike a balance. If he didn't score goals, he was deemed a bad player. If he didn't assist but scored himself, he wasn't seen as a team player. And if he didn't contribute at all, he was deemed unworthy of the team. He was often labeled as the attractive star player, good at scoring goals, but not as exceptional as Auston Matthews or as dominant as other players like Rielly, Reaves, and Tavares.

'Nylander’s a talented player, but he only cares about scoring for himself.'

‘Great to see WN88 take on some responsibilities when wearing the A – but he’s nothing like MR44’

The power of public opinion could be harsh.

Though most of the time, William didn’t even pay much attention to the criticism, knowing he was a great player, and his confidence remained unshaken. But often when he tried to brush off the comments and act nonchalant, it only fuelled speculation about his carelessness.

And, for some unexpected reason, he found himself unable to contain his temper on that particular Monday. Tired of the negative remarks, he wanted to prove that he could be just as strong and skilled as anyone else.

So, during Monday’s ice training, he attempted to assert his dominance. But things didn't go entirely as planned. Although the comments from the assistant coaches might not have been intended to be negative, they still managed to pierce through his thick skin.

"Hey Willy, we all know you did great as an alternate captain in Mo’s absence. However, maybe focus more on your scoring, passing to Auston, and breakaways – you know, the things you’re great at."

William simply nodded in response to the coaching staff's encouragement. But as they all left the locker room, he still couldn't shake off the words entirely.

"Hey," you greeted him with a warm smile in the hallway, joining the other partners of the team. "Want to go out for dinner?"

"Sure," he responded tersely, his tone devoid of your enthusiasm. "Just go wait by the car, I’ll be right there."

His voice was low and cold, but as his confidant, you resolved to show your support and be there for him.

"That's alright, I'll just wait here until you're ready," you replied, offering a reassuring smile.

"Just go and wait by the car," he suddenly snapped, his words sharper than before.

“What did you just say?” 

“Go wait by the fucking car.”

"Oh no... You don’t get to talk to me like that, Willy..." you retorted, your voice firm and steady. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just... I'll meet you outside."

"No, I'm not leaving until you talk nicely to me!"

"Why can't you just do what you're being told?" William shouted, his voice echoing through the hallway. 

You were taken aback. William had never shouted at you, especially not in public like this. While your relationship wasn’t without its disagreements, it had never escalated to this level.

But you held his gaze firmly as the others dispersed, the tension between you palpable. 

There was a silence that hung heavy in the air. A moment where every thing could fall apart if you let it. But instead you decided to take the battle elsewhere.

"Fine," you finally spat, before turning and walking towards the exit.

And needless to say, the ride back to William’s place was dead silent, broken only when William left the car to pick up your takeaway dinner, opting not to go out. And when he returned, he slammed the door shut, and the journey to his place remained eerily quiet.

You felt his frustration emanating from him as you entered the condo, and as you placed the bags of food on the kitchen counter, you decided you couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Willy... do you have any idea how humiliating that was?" you said with a steady voice, trying to catch his gaze, but he remained hunched over the counter, looking down.

"So what?" he replied curtly.

You let out a small sigh. "So what?... Willy, I'm not a toy you can play with however you like... I'm a person with feelings."

"Don't you think I have feelings too?" he suddenly erupted, standing up straight and taking a step towards you. "Don't you think I feel frustrated and annoyed? That I'm not this perfectly calm and chill guy everyone always wants me to be?"

"So, you're upset because you're a talented hockey player, but not perfect in every way?" you asked a hint of rhetoric in your tone, raising a brow. "Willy, nobody's perfect, and nobody can live up to everyone's expectations."

"Don't you think I know that! But it still doesn’t make the frustrations go away, y/n... not that you would know how it feels to just want to... let go!"

And you suddenly found yourself releasing a breath you hadn't realised you'd been holding. William's words were sharp and filled with tension, fuelled by his passion for the sport. And strangely, you felt the same arousal you had felt the night you witnessed his anger for the first time.

"Take it out on me," you spoke softly, still maintaining a firm tone as you extended the invitation.

"What?" William inquired, taken aback by your bold offer.

"Take your frustrations out on me, Willy... let go, be angry... do what you need to do..."

For a moment, he couldn't comprehend what you were suggesting. His mind raced with thoughts, but as his eyes met yours, a sudden surge of desire and lust overwhelmed him. The offer was too tempting to resist. And without hesitation, he closed the gap between you, fuelled by a primal urge.

His lips almost crashed onto yours, his hands gripping your head tightly as he held you close. Your breath was stolen as he forcefully slid his tongue into your mouth, exploring your warmth with intensity, pressing his body against yours.

Your hands instinctively found his neck, but they couldn't stay still as William, using his size to his advantage, guided you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. Clothes were shed along the way, leaving a trail of passion in their wake.

The intensity was so overwhelming that you barely registered how quickly you ended up standing by the bed, clad only in your lacy thong, as William's mouth continued to ravage yours until he breathlessly stepped back.

"On your hands and knees," his voice commanded roughly, his breath heavy and his eyes filled with lust.

And feeling your cunt already pulsating merely from the sound of his voice, you removed your last piece of fabric, and obeyed without hesitation.

William couldn't help but smirk as he admired the sight of your exposed cheeks before him. And as he lowered his boxers, freeing his hard cock, he slowly joined you on the mattress, kneeling behind you as he let his hands explore your soft skin.

"So you want me to let go, baby," he spoke darkly from behind, his mind clouded with thoughts of what he wanted to do to you. “I’ll fucking let go.”

And by encouragement form you, be withdrew his large hand from your ass, intensely stared at your ass before delivering a hard slap against your skin.

"Oh fuck..." you cried out, feeling the sting of his spank.

"You liked that, huh?" William inquired darkly, and all you could do was nod, earning another hard spank.

His force was harsh. Harder than you’d ever been playfully spanked before, and you could tell he was releasing some negative energy with two more intense smacks. His breath heavy and deep but his fifth and last spank, which had beautifully decorated your skin with a red hue.

And as you let out a soft cry mixed with a pleasure-filled moan, William felt satisfied with his actions. Shifting slightly in his position, he teased the tip of his cock against your entrance.

"Do you think you deserve this?" he asked, his voice filled with desire. “You think you deserve to be fucked?”

You could feel nothing but your muscles pulsating between your legs, yearning to be filled by his length.

"Yes," you whimpered, your legs trembling with anticipation.

"Good girl..." 

And with a forceful thrust, William slammed his cock into you, burying himself deep inside your cunt and hitting your very depths.

His hands gripped your waist firmly as he established a steady rhythm of forceful thrusts, channeling all his frustration and annoyance into each powerful movement. With every slam, he felt himself releasing the pent-up tension, letting go of the negativity that had been weighing on him.

It was almost too overwhelming for you. His vigorous thrusts caused your body to tremble, pushing you closer to orgasm much quicker than anticipated as he pounded and overstimulated your walls.

Usually it’d take more than just forceful penetrating sex like this to give you that pleasurable high, however with William’s merciless performance, you suddenly found yourself nearing a peak. 

And as if you had no control over yourself, your moans grew louder with each collision of skin against skin, and soon you found yourself clutching onto the sheets beneath you.

"Willy," you breathed, your voice filled with need. "I'm gonna come..."

Your words were music to his ears, mingling with moans and cries as he revelled in the pleasure he was giving you. And with no intention of slowing down, he continued to fuck you hard and fast.

"Oh fuck... Willy..." you cried out, your cunt dripping with juices as you threw your head back and allowed yourself to reach the peak of ecstasy, waves of climax rushing over your body.

William could feel how your walls clenched tightly around him as you embraced your orgasm, relishing in the sight of you closing your eyes in ecstasy and feeling your body shake and surrender to him.

And though as much as he wanted to continue fucking you hard and bring you to multiple orgasms, he also felt the urgency for his own release.

So, he paused his movements, allowing you to come down from the euphoria and catch your breath, before gently withdrawing his length from your dripping core. It was a sight to behold, seeing how perfectly your heat fit him, reflecting the pleasure he had given you.

But for now, he desired something else from you.

"I want you on your knees, baby, on the floor," his husky voice commanded, and with a deep breath, you summoned the strength to move your body.

Despite your legs feeling like jelly beneath you, you managed to manoeuvre from the bed to the middle of the room, where you flashed William a confident smirk as you knelt before him. You knew exactly what he wanted, and you were more than willing to give it to him.

Then patiently waiting for him to draw closer, you glanced up at him with desire in your eyes, parting your lips slightly as he approached. You yearned to taste him, to feel his hardness against your tongue, and even to savor your own essence.

And William happily gave it to you.

Holding his cock before your mouth, he gazed intensely down at you, silently granting you permission to take him.

Without hesitation, you accepted. Wrapping your lips around the tip, you began by circling it with your tongue. Then taking a deep breath through your nose, you focused on relaxing the back of your throat, guiding him in slowly and effortlessly. You felt him reach the back of your mouth, but you allowed him to push in further.

Gently withdrawing your head slightly, you coated his shaft with your saliva before taking him in entirely once again. And while taking your time, you savoured the sensation before starting to move your head in rhythmic motions, bobbing up and down on his length. Your lips wrapped around him as you moved, using your dominant hand where your mouth couldn't reach.

William's fingers found the back of your hair, gently gripping it as he began to let his hips move in sync with your motions. And as the pleasurable sensations intensified, so did his actions.

You allowed him to take control, something you wouldn't normally do as you needed to manage your gag reflex and breathing. But tonight was William's night to let loose, which meant allowing him to guide his cock in and out of your mouth.

And while feeling his grip tighten in your hair, you managed to glance up at him through your lashes and saw how he tilted his head back, surrendering to the moment.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he mumbled between moans.

Knowing exactly how to push him over the edge, you released your hand from around the base of his cock and placed both palms on his muscular thighs. Taking another deep breath, you prepared yourself as best you could before letting him push his shaft all the way into your throat, causing your nose to brush against his pubic hair. Holding still for a few seconds, you allowed yourself to gag around his cock before pulling off completely and gasping for air.

"Oh shit! Fuck, babe," William panted above you as you stroked his length. "That's fucking hot."

And you knew it was. William had often expressed his love for your blowjobs, and sometimes hinted at his desire for more dominant behaviour. While he had never actually choked you with his cock, he had shown some interest, which was how you knew he would enjoy how you forced him all the way down.

Then taking another breath, you placed both hands on his thighs once more and took him back into your mouth. And this time, William wanted nothing more than to come for you. Knowing how good you could be for him, he held onto you firmly, meeting your eyes as he thrust against your mouth.

It was forceful and dominant, as he relished every gagging noise you made. And as he fucked your mouth faster, he felt himself on the brink of climax.

"Oh yes, baby, that’s it! Oh, I'll never get enough of you," he moaned, his eyes shutting tightly. "Your mouth is so fucking..." But his words were cut off by a deep grunt as his climax took over, and he unleashed his load into your warmth.

You felt his muscles tense under your touch, your nails digging into them as he held his cock in your mouth, ensuring you received every single drop he had to offer.

Both of you remained still for a brief moment as William came down from his high, and holding back your instincts, you gazed up at him as you waited for his approval.

Slowly, he pulled himself out of your mouth, allowing you to taste every inch of his shaft. And locking eyes with you once more, he issued his final command.

"Swallow."

With a gulp, you let his raw cum slide down your throat, before releasing a light sensual gasp. It was nothing but an intense moment of sexual silence as you stared up at the man before you.

"Shit, baby, you're way too good at this," his dark words praised, and slowly he helped you to your feet.

"Did I at least help you with the frustrations?" you chuckled lightly.

"Oh, yes, you did," William replied, flashing you a great smile before pulling you into a cuddle. "How about a shower?"

"How about we heat up dinner?" you suggested with a laugh.

"Good idea - but shower first."

It felt as if all the tension had dissipated, as if there were no lingering issues anymore. Yet, a part of you remained uncertain about the true nature of your relationship with William.

As you enjoyed a later dinner after the post-sex shower, smiles gracing both of your faces, you couldn't help but ponder what was going on inside William's mind.

However, as you cuddled up, feeling satisfied in every aspect, he beat you to the conversation.

"Hey... thanks for... you know, today," he started softly, his thumb caressing your shoulder as his arms enveloped you, turning his head to face you.

"Of course, it's what I'm here for," you replied with a content smile.

"Yeah, I know, it's just..." he continued softly, struggling to articulate his thoughts. "You don't have to... let me do that... you could’ve just walked away after what happened at the rink."

"I know, but I didn’t want to walk away... Willy, I know I'm not exactly your girlfriend or anything, but whatever this is, to me, it's something..."

"Exactly... and I guess I just... I don't know how to say it, but I just feel like there might be more... you're so amazing, and I just really want you around, all the time... and I understand if that's not what you want, because it's not always easy with me, but... if you want to, I'd like to have you..."

His last words almost came out in slow motion, uncertainty evident in how he expressed his feelings.

"Willy, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Yeah... I think I am."

You were slightly taken aback by his question. Despite being intimate and spending a lot of time together for months, you didn't think William was considering this direction. On the contrary actually, you had been nervous he wanted to end it because of the increasing intensity of the season.

"Yes, Willy... of course I'd want to be your girlfriend," you finally managed to speak, the words carrying a mix of joy and relief. "Babe, I was honestly afraid you'd had enough of me...."

It was a moment you had both anticipated and feared, but now that it was here, it felt nothing but right. Leaning in, you sealed your answer with a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of your commitment to each other.

William's eyes sparkled with happiness as he returned the kiss, his arms pulling you closer. It was a moment of clarity amidst the chaos of life, a moment where everything just felt right.

"Oh, I already told you; I'll never get enough of you," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. 

#2️⃣5️⃣0️⃣ followers celebration #william nylander imagine #william nylander x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #wn88 imagine

[cybrsan]

Treasure — J.WY [Pt. 2]

SUMMARY: Tensions run high as you try to come to an agreement with the eight benders.

PAIRING: Waterbender Jung Wooyoung x Non-Bender F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, eventual smut ; ATLA au, enemies to lovers

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNINGS: Minor POV switches, emotionally charged fight

LINKS: Ode To ATEEZ Masterlist | Together in Harmony Masterlist | Cross-posted on AO3

↞ Previous | Masterlist | Next ↠

Wooyoung looks around the inside of the tent, eyes widening with awe. It somehow seems bigger on the inside, imbued with a magical energy that’s almost tangible. The walls are draped with layers of cascading, vibrant fabrics, the light of the lanterns reflecting off of them in a way that casts the entire space in a warm, rainbow glow. Bookshelves are filled to the brim with baubles the likes of which Wooyoung has never seen; delicate seashells, weathered bones, intricate carvings. And above it all are an array of wind chimes, hanging from the tent’s supports, their sweet melodies bringing a sense of tranquility to the space.

So mystified by the sights, it takes him a moment to notice the old woman sitting cross-legged on a plush cushion towards the back of the tent. She watches him with patient, knowing eyes and he instinctively bows once he sees her, apologizing for his inattentiveness. 

She beckons him closer with a wave of her hand. “Come, child, I’ve been expectin’ you.”

Wooyoung takes a seat on a cushion in front of her, taking in her appearance. Long white hair spills out of a loose head covering, and her skin is tan and wrinkled, a sign of many years spent in the sun. “You’re Nadira?” 

“That’s right. And you’re a lost soul lookin’ for Pandora, just like the girl who was just here.” He frowns at the mention of her, and Nadira chuckles. “Don’t be like that. You’re going to need her help, after all.” 

Wooyoung brings his thumb to his mouth, chewing on the nail absentmindedly—a nervous habit he’s never been able to kick. If this girl really is the one he saw in his dream, he wants nothing to do with her. A crumbling stone floor, a pedestal missing an emblem, his own reflection looking back at him in her tearful eyes… No, Wooyoung steels himself. He won’t accept her help, no matter what.

Nadira makes a disapproving clucking noise with her tongue as if sensing the direction of his thoughts and gets up, taking something off of a table in the corner of the room. She returns and places a large wooden filled with sand in the space between them. 

“I’m gonna show you somethin’, and I expect you to pay attention.”

Wooyoung nods, the tone of her voice demanding respect. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Closing her eyes, she holds up her hands, and the sand in the bowl begins to swirl and twist into various shapes. First, Wooyoung sees nine figures walking toward a towering building, with one trailing behind and one in the front, confidently leading them forward. The scenes change quickly after that, with him only able to catch glimpses of what happens next. The nine figures split apart into separate groups, fighting amongst themselves. The building collapsing into rubble. A mirrored figure, holding onto something precious before dropping it, a tear falling down their cheek.       

Wooyoung’s heart sinks into his stomach. Though there’s no proof that any of what Nadira is showing him is true, he can’t find it in himself to doubt her prophecy. Not only does he know better than anyone that predicting the future is a real gift some people possess, but too much of what he just saw matches up with his own visions. 

She opens her eyes, and the sand in the scrying bowl stills. “Did you see, child?”

Wooyoung doesn’t know how to answer her. How can she ask this so nonchalantly, as if the future she showed wasn’t distressingly bleak? In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to her and gets up, eager to return to his group. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you were hoping to prove, but I am only more certain than ever that that girl needs to stay as far away from us as possible.”   

Before Nadira can say anything else, Wooyoung flees from the tent and heads back toward town. The sun is already setting behind the clouds—he’s late for the meeting with the others. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say to them, to Hongjoong, certain that the leader will be expecting him to come back with some helpful information. He enters the inn, spinning various potential stories and excuses in his head. He hears San’s voice greeting him happily, and he looks up with a strained smile, only for it to immediately fall when he sees her standing there, talking to his friends, his family. He won’t let this future unfold. He can’t let anyone be hurt. Not again.

“What is she doing here?” 

Wooyoung doesn’t even address you while he speaks so harshly, instead turning from you to face Hongjoong whose expression hardens.

“You act as if I invited her here.” 

“She’s a traveler, like us,” Seonghwa explains, interjecting. “She wants to join us on our search for Pandora.”

Wooyoung scoffs, eyeing you with disdain. “Thanks, but no thanks. There’s enough of us already.”

His outright animosity towards you has you shell-shocked. You can’t think of anything you’ve done to deserve it, and you say as much. “I’m sorry, have I done something to offend you?”

San claps a hand on the back of Wooyoung’s neck, frowning. “Yeah, Young-ah, what’s with the animosity? This isn’t like you.” 

“I just don’t think we should trust her, that’s all.”

“You don’t have to trust me to cooperate with me,” you insist.

“See,” he says, gesturing to you. “She basically just admitted she isn’t a trustworthy person.”

Oh, he’s got to be kidding. “I did not!” 

Jongho, one of the group’s firebenders, hushes you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You didn’t notice his approach, too invested in your argument with Wooyoung. “Don’t take the bait,” he whispers. “It won’t get you anywhere.” 

You shrug his hand off of you but nod, grateful for his advice. With a huff, you take a seat at the table, forcefully removing yourself from the situation. The conversation lulls after that, with the benders pairing off and having their own discussions about where to go from here. San seems to scold Wooyoung as the latter ignores him, which gives you some satisfaction, at least. 

When you finally look at Hongjoong, his gaze is locked onto Wooyoung and full of suspicion. It raises the hair on your arms—you get the feeling he knows something you and the others don’t. Eventually, Yeosang, the lone boy at the end of the table, speaks up. His voice is light and airy, lilting like bells. 

“I say we should hear her out.” 

Wooyoung looks shocked at his input, as if he was the last person he would have expected to speak in your favor. “Why sh—”

“I think she has a map. It looked like she was going to pull it out of her bag earlier.”

He’s surprisingly observant for someone that seems so uninvolved in the goings on around him. You nod and finally pull the map out from your bag, placing it on the table in front of you. Hongjoong goes to reach for it, but you hold it securely, sending him a warning glare. 

“I’ll share this with you if and only if you let me come with you.” 

Wooyoung continues to speak out against you, saying, “We don’t have any way of verifying that this map is even real! This entire conversation is pointless.” 

“It’s more than what we had before,” Yunho says, finally speaking up. “Could be worth a try.”

Mingi piggybacks off of him, agreeing. “I’m tired of wandering around aimlessly. At least this gives us something to go off of.”

Hongjoong scans the map, nodding approvingly. “You guys are right. I think it’s worth a shot. Having her with us won’t be too much of a burden, and this map is useful.”

“Thank you,” you say, grateful that most of them have taken your side. “I promise I’ll help however I can. There’s nothing I want more than to quickly find Pandora so that we can all head our separate ways.”

After making plans to meet downstairs at dawn, everyone disperses to take care of their own business. Some of the boys come up to you to formally introduce themselves, and a few even seem to be happy that you will be joining them. On the other hand, Wooyoung quickly excuses himself, presumably ready to go sulk in his room over your addition to the group, but Hongjoong calls after him.

“Woo, my room, now. I need to talk to you.” 

His tone even sends a chill down your spine. You watch the two of them leave, not failing to notice the anxiety on Wooyoung’s face as he accompanies the firebender to his room.

Wooyoung follows Hongjoong up the stairs, unease settling in his gut; the last few times they had a one-on-one conversation weren’t exactly pleasant. The firebender disappears inside his room, leaving the door open. Wooyoung hesitates in the doorway, watching silently as Hongjoong shrugs off the outer layers of his robes before taking a seat on the edge of his bed. Looks like he’s staying in a single room again. 

“Don’t just stand there,” Hongjoong says, beckoning him in. “And close the door behind you.”

Wooyoung does as asked, but fidgets in place, unsure of how to behave or what to say. The tension between them hangs heavily in the air, and it makes him feel suffocated. He’s almost tempted to run from the room like a frightened animal, but he has more pride than that. He also knows that he can’t avoid Hongjoong forever. 

Hongjoong crosses and uncrosses his legs restlessly before finally settling on a position with his feet firmly on the ground. Despite the nervousness in his movements, he locks onto Wooyoung with a stoic, unyielding expression. “So, does your strange behavior around this girl have something to do with your conversation with Nadira?”

Thankful for the opening, Wooyoung quickly agrees. “Yeah. Nadira’s a sandseer; she showed me a vision that seemed to warn against our cooperation with an outsider. Presumably, the girl.” 

Hongjoong quirks an eyebrow. “Is that so?” When Wooyoung nods, he adds, “And are you sure her visions can be trusted? After all, we both know that glimpses into the future tend to be fickle.” 

Wooyoung purses his lips, the firebender’s subtle jab at him not going unnoticed. “I can’t promise you that what she showed me is true, but she seemed sure of herself. It also—” He cuts himself off, eyes widening as he realizes he almost revealed the fact that he’s been having visions of the girl too. Internally, he curses himself for still wanting to garner Hongjoong’s favor so badly that the urge to tell the truth comes naturally. 

“It also…?” 

“It lines up with my gut feeling, that’s all. I don’t think we should trust her.”

“So, you’re telling me to trust your ‘gut feeling’ and the uncertain vision of sandseer we know nothing about over a girl offering us help and real information? You aren’t stupid, Wooyoung, and don’t pretend to be. There’s something else.” 

It’s at moments like this when Wooyoung remembers just how clever Hongjoong is and why he was able to rise through the ranks of the Royal Court so quickly. He has a remarkable aptitude to see through falsities and anticipate the hidden motivations of those around him. Wooyoung’s mind races as he tries to maintain his composure, and when Hongjoong’s eyes narrow slightly, a faint glint of suspicion evident in his gaze, Wooyoung looks away. 

“There isn’t anything else. Now, if that’s all…?” 

He backs away slightly, ready to leave the room, but Hongjoong continues to talk. “You’re so eager to run away from me. I remember when you always wanted to be by my side. You would even tease the others, saying that I was your favorite. What happened?”

The 180 shift in conversation takes Wooyoung off guard, and he can’t stop himself from taking the bait. “You know what happened. Don’t try to manipulate me into apologizing again when you don’t plan on forgiving me.”

“Manipulate you? Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“It’s what you’re good at, isn’t it?”

“I’m a diplomat, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong explains, shaking his head. “A peacemaker. I don’t manipulate people.” 

The rational part of Wooyoung knows he should stop the conversation here. That he’s just being goaded into another argument, and nothing good will come from it. But he’s never been very good at being rational; his emotions, like waves in the midst of a storm at sea, often threaten to swallow him whole. 

“Was.”

Hongjoong’s expression darkens. “Excuse me?”

“You were a diplomat. You aren’t anymore.” 

Wooyoung takes no satisfaction from rubbing salt in Hongjoong’s wound, but he can’t find it in himself to feel remorse, either. If he doesn’t lash out, if he doesn’t fight back, he feels like he’ll just break into pieces instead. A flicker of hurt shows on Hongjoong’s face before he regains his composure, fire alighting in his eyes.

“And whose fault is that? Mine?”

“Well, it isn’t mine.”

“Funny,” Hongjoong scoffs. “I remember you telling me about a certain vision you had that led me astray.”

“And how many times did I tell you that my visions were uncertain? You put too much faith in me!”

Hongjoong is standing now, sweat dampening his brow, and Wooyoung notices the condensation collecting on the wall behind him. Their emotions are fueling their bending, essentially turning the room into a sauna.

“As if you didn’t encourage me to,” Hongjoong spits. “You would follow me around like a lost puppy, telling me every little thing you dreamt. You just loved having all my attention, didn’t you?” 

Wooyoung steps back, wincing as if Hongjoong’s words were a physical blow. His hands begin to tremble, but he clenches them into fists, knuckles turning white. “All I ever wanted to do was help you.”

“Yeah, and you did a great job, didn’t you?” The sarcasm drips from Hongjoong’s tone like venom.

“Something went wrong one time, Hongjoong. One out of hundreds.” 

“And it cost me everything. My job, my reputation, my livelihood. Everything ruined all because you told me Ba Sing Se’s ambassador was a traitor, and it wasn’t true.”

“You should have found evidence before making the arrest! Stop blaming me for a decision you made.”

“A decision based on your word. I trusted you, Wooyoung, and you betrayed me.” 

“I can’t believe you,” Wooyoung says weakly, the fight drained from him. “You used me, and the second something went wrong, you just cast me aside like I was nothing. I thought I was worth more to you than that.”

He turns to leave, but all it takes is Hongjoong saying, “Wooyoung, wait,” to stop him in his tracks. And so wait he does. He stands there with his back turned, blinking away tears and praying that Hongjoong will apologize and tell him that he means the world to him, just like he used to. But the apology never comes. 

“You dreamt about her, didn’t you?” 

Wooyoung doesn’t respond, but he knows that his silence will be answer enough. He isn’t surprised that Hongjoong figured it out—he knew he would, sooner or later. 

“Of course you did,” Hongjoong laughs in disbelief. “Well, I don’t know what you or Nadira saw, but I don’t care. She’s coming with us and that’s final. If you have a problem with it, you can leave.” 

When the door slams shut behind him, Wooyoung can’t help but feel that his chance to repair his relationship with Hongjoong has slipped away for good. 

NETWORKS: @cromernet @kflixnet @pirateeznet

TAGLIST: @nebulousbookshelf @ad0rechuu @seonghwaddict @sanniesbunnie @wooya1224 @tournesol155 @ja3hwa @pocketjoong-reads @lovandr @yeoyeoland

#wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung smut #ateez smut #wooyoung fluff #ateez fluff #wooyoung angst #ateez angst #wooyoung fic #ateez fic #jung wooyoung fic #my fic #kpop fic #kpop writers #kpop writing

[dr3amscap3]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐒 ┊𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐒.

┊Vil Schoenheit x Reader ┊Angst to Fluff ┊In which (Name) and Vil have an argument leading them to not speak for a week. In turn Vil has a nightmare of (Name) dying. ┊Requested by : Anon ┊CW : Angst, Alcohol, Arguments, Death, Nightmares, Injury, & Fluff ┊Note: this fic is inspired by champagne problems by Taylor Swift ┊Word Count: 1313

In all honesty, the fights have never gotten that bad. It should’ve never gotten that bad.

You didn’t know which was worse, perhaps it was the insults he bombarded your way, perhaps it was the champagne glass that he threw in a moment of rage that now lay shattered on the floor, or perhaps it was the silence that held so much grief and guilt in the air.

“(Name).... I... I didn’t mean-- “ Vil had a look in his eyes so distinct, yet so foreign to you, he had a look of grief, a look of guilt, and a look of sorrow. Vil’s hand shakily went up to his mouth to stifle a sob as he saw the terror in your eyes. He watched as you moved to walk out.

He watched, yet he didn’t act.

He should’ve acted, he knows he should’ve, but he can’t anymore, for you were already out the door.

His pocket feels a little heavier now.

One week. Seven days. One hundred sixty-eight hours. That’s how long it’s been since he’s talked to you. Yet still he continues to catch glimpses of you in the bustling crowds of the student body, he continues to see you sitting around campus with a hint of hurt hidden in your eyes.

He continues to stare longingly at you from afar, missing your love for him, regretting how he let your love slip far beyond where he could reach.

And perhaps it was when you moved to walk away from his view... perhaps it was the moment he realized he was never ready to lose you, yet still, he had to watch you go off to a place where he cannot be, of to a place where his heart is not welcome.

In his sorrow, he decides to return to his dorm and pour himself a glass of Dom Pérignon, deciding to drink his problems away. But he supposes he should stop drinking, for this is what had gotten into his mess. He tries to recall what you called this problem of his.

“Ah... right, they called it champagne problems...” Vil lets out a wet bitter chuckle as tears stain his face, he knows he should stop, yet he downs another glass.

Tonight, with a guilt-ridden heart woven from the strings of a broken tapestry that only your hands can mend, he sucks down his pride and gives you a call. Yet to his dismay, it is not your voice that he loves so dearly that answers, instead the voice that answers is foreign, yet it holds an apologetic tone.

“Hello I am a nurse from the Isle of Sages hospital, are you perhaps a relative of (Name) (Last Name)?” The voice, now identified to belong to a nurse, asks.

Vil isn’t a relative of yours, yet he lies through his teeth, desperate to know why a nurse answered his call and not his beloved.

The next words the nurse utters causes Vil to lose his grip on his phone. He can’t hear anything but the ringing of static and white noise. Vil cannot tell if the sounds hurt his ears, he cannot begin to fathom what he feels, he cannot begin to process such sorrow, such pain.

Instead, Vil is speechless, for a man who has given the students of his dorm so many lectures and scoldings he is finally rendered speechless.

He doesn’t even notice as the tears cascade down his face, he doesn’t notice as the tears fall bellow, soaking the carpet on which he stands, he doesn’t notice a sob break free from his lips, he doesn’t notice the way he clutches his chest in despair, he doesn’t notice the way he mutters soft apologies to you, hoping you hear, yet knowing you can’t.

Then he wakes up, his heart pounding profusely, everything felt as if it was closing in on him, everything was hitting him all at once, the guilt, the fear, and the sorrow.

He let out a soft sob as he recalled the nightmare. “A nightmare... it was simply a nightmare...” Vil reassured himself, yet his mind wandered to scenarios in which maybe this wasn’t simply a nightmare, maybe it was a vision or a memory.

So he grabbed a small item and he ran. He ran barefoot to the Ramshackle Dorm, knocking on your door frantically. “(Name), (Name), let me in please...” Vil’s knocks became desperate, yet finally, to his relief, you opened the door, albeit you were still a tad groggy, having just woken up moments ago. Yet Vil didn’t care about appearances, he didn’t care about the fact that you were both still in a fight, he didn’t care. He simply engulfed you in a hug and sobbed, he muttered apologies into your hair.

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...” Vil continued to sob, his entire being shaking with each gasp of air. “Forgive me (Name), please forgive me.” Vil begged, desperate for your forgiveness, desperate for your love.

“Calm down, my love. It’s alright.” You whispered gently, combing your fingers through his hair, it has always been your way to reassure and calm him.

“You... you died and I... you...” His voice contains hints of fear, sorrow, and guilt. Vil continues to whisper apologies and cling to you.

“Let me stay here... please... I don’t think I can sleep alone tonight...” Vil pleads softly, looking at you with eyes that held so much guilt and apologies that words cannot even begin to describe.

It takes a cruel person to turn away someone who is as vulnerable as Vil is at the moment, and fortunately, you are not a cruel person, you gently usher him inside and pull him into another tight hug.

As you both go up to your room he whispers one last apology to you before you pull him on the bed and take him into your arms gently. Vil was never the type to be held, always fearing for his appearances, yet tonight was different, he needed this, he needed you.

Neither of you could fall asleep, so you both talked, admitted your faults, and uttered apologies, it wasn’t until the break of dawn when Vil finally confessed what he wanted to say that night.

“Marry me.” Vil blurted out boldly. “I was unsure if I wanted to propose that you left, I was unsure if we were both ready, but one week without you had proven that yes I do need you, and yes it was idiotic of me to almost lose you.” Vil admitted, gently holding the ring out.

“I know we will continue to have our fights and our disagreements, I know we won’t always see eye to eye, but I promise I will never let you sit alone and hurt. I promise I will never let another crestfallen look grace your face again, not even for a moment. I promise that if you trust me with your heart once more I will treat it as if it were glass and I would never drop it, not again."

“This life was once a madhouse before you went and changed it for the better, the moment we first met was the moment I knew that it would be your hand that I would always hold when we will be dancing. The moment we met was the moment I knew that you would be the one to mend my shredded tapestry of a heart.”

“So please...” Vil goes down on one knee, “Marry me."

At the nod of your head, a happy sob escapes from Vil’s lips.

“I think I would be fucked in the head if I didn’t say yes.” You say with a smile as Vil chuckles at your words.

You both will always have disagreements from time to time, and sometimes there won’t be a fine answer to those disagreements, yet you both will always try to find a compromise for every problem, even if the problem was something as silly as a champagne problem.

This has been in my drafts for far too long. Decided to finally finish it!!

Tags : @gingeywolfey @luxaryllis @raix-lv @ruru-kiss @blankescapades @deimospheres @gh0stbastard @kiriesdreamworld @hmmmmmm-give-me-your-gender

strikethrough = Cannot tag

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst angst #angst #twst x reader #vil schoenheit #twst vil #twisted wonderland vil #fluff #twst fluff #taylor swift #champagne problems #did this on a call with lux #twisted wonderland fluff #twisted wonderland angst #disney tw #disney twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit x reader #arguments #mentions of death #proposal #romance #broken heart #vil #—Mika Writes ✧ #evermore #omg 1313...

[inkblot-inc]

A Simple Meet-Cute

Summary: A slow night at your job picks up with the presence of a certain woman in red, this meeting also serves as the precedent for your life-course to shift...

Pairing: ???Wanda Maximoff x Hyena!Mutant!Reader

[S.S AU Masterlist]

Warning(s): Dark Themes; there's no smut in this one, but this is an 18+ AU aka MINORS DNI. To start we got depictions of breaking bones (not in depth, but it’s there, suggestion of murder, mention of mutant trafficking (did I really go back there again? Yeah, but this time with a dash of discrimination toward mutants), let’s see… language and general violence, cuz hey, you know what I get up to...kinda-

Note(s): This timeline-wise is way before "The Bigger Picture". I figure after I had my medias res moment, I wanted to go ahead double back to show how Wanda and R met. Were they done around the same time? Yes….And your point? I'll also go ahead and say that they're both a part of the Scarlet Syndicate AU. The masterlist should be up pretty soon, and I hope you enjoy this one :3

Word Count: in the realm of 1.8k

*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit!

Mutants. The next evolution in human genetics can manifest at any time and take many forms. Some develop their mutations when they're in the throes of puberty or while in adolescence. Others have had their mutation since they were born or haven’t had them appear until they’ve gone into adulthood.

In this world, humans far outnumber mutants in population, and people are more content to ostracize those who are mutants, as man has well been known to fear and even hate what they do not understand...

“Table seven is clear, hon,” You turned to see Miss Monica pointing to the back area. Nodding, you grabbed your rag and made your way to the newly unoccupied table littered with pools of water left by sweating drinks and crumpled napkins.

It was only maybe a quarter past eight, but the bar was already running thin with patrons. The quieter hum of voices compared to the usual clambering of laughter and muddled conversation clued you in to the change easily. As you cleaned, you caught a glimpse of the designated VIP section of The Photon Call. There you saw a small group that had been there for at least two hours now.

The woman at the head of the table was dressed in a form-fitting burgundy suit paired with a glossy black heel, blacked out sunglasses framing her face. A muted fruity smell with a hint of something else followed her stride. She came in with two men and another woman, who were all dressed formally. Monica merely nodded toward the woman when they came in before she had Jimmy lead them to the VIP area.

Looking at the group now, you noticed their “leader” of sorts had now taken off her sunglasses, moving some of her auburn hair out of her face. Her green eyes were just visible in the lower light. They had an extra person with them who was sitting across from the woman dressed in deep red. This man you remembered from a short time ago. he came in some time after the group he was now seated with. he was a bit of a crude figure, and he’d been rather transparent about his distaste toward you, his nose turned up at your short tail and pronounced ears as you directed him to the VIP area. You’d been privy to a few choice words muttered under his breath as well.

There was a light sheen on his forehead now that there wasn’t before, now that they'd all finished eating. His scent was more pungent as well; he’s nervous now, and a bit fearful. Though his posture is upright, there was a stiffness to his movements when he was speaking. It was a stark contrast to the others sitting at the table who remained confident and relaxed, though you noticed the growing boredom and aggravation from the head lady as she swirled the drink in her glass lazily.

When the gray-haired man finished speaking, the woman across from him simply raised a brow and checked the watch on her wrist. The other woman in the seat next to her, who was also a redhead, shifted in her seat. Her aggravation had been there since he’d started talking.

The leading woman set her glass down lightly, “Your offer has already been considered and denied, Hayward. I have other matters to attend to, so I believe we’re done here.”

The bluntness and brevity of her statement noticeably took the man aback as he floundered for his words. “B-but you have to understand, Wanda! This is for the benefit of the company-”

“What I understand is you can’t take a hint, Tyler. You call me out past my business hours, which should be well known to you, to propose an increase in mutant laborers as a ludicrous idea to increase production rates for my company. You also know my stance on such practices, which is why I’m left confused as to why you thought I would agree to it to begin with. I wonder if you’re having a gargantuan lapse in judgment, or if you’re really at the meeting point where bold meets stupid.”

The woman, Wanda, remained unflinching as the older man, Hayward, abruptly got up from his seat in outrage. Your hand slowed wiping down the booth seats as you noticed a spike in anger and resentment along with a feeling you’ve come to recognize as violent intent. The other redheaded woman shifted forward a bit, probably as a natural response. Hayward’s back was to you, and he garnered a lot of attention all on his own, so no one really noticed you move closer behind him.

“You don’t think you’ll defer to me? With one call my associates and I make motion to flip your company around on you so fast it'd make your head spin. So, I'll tell you what, you little bitch-”

It was when he went to move and touch Wanda that you restrained the man, your rag wrapped around his wrists and his arms behind his back. His right arm was now bent in a weird way, the connected shoulder probably came out of its socket, but that didn’t make you stop. All the while, Wanda and the people with her remained calm, if a bit surprised.

Wanda raised a brow at the actions of this new person restraining one Tyler Hayward. Now, Natasha warned her that her own senses were going off due to Hayward’s visible increase in anger, and she didn’t need to read the man’s mind to confirm it. Had he gotten anywhere close to harming her or was even capable of it, she would have ended him not even with a flick of her wrist.

But now she’s simply watching you effectively take the unsuspecting man to the floor, both of his arms were bent oddly and essentially broken at this point. A twisted growl streamed out of your mouth with sporadic hiccups here and there. Hayward continued to hurl threats at you as you kept your knees on the backs of his thighs, keeping him from moving.

Nothing seems to register as you simply looked up at Wanda and those with her, eyes shifting between each of them to make sure they weren't disturbed. You kept Hayward’s broken arms locked behind his back with one hand, reaching around and forcefully gripping his face with the other; shutting him up for the most part. You hunched over Hayward’s shoulder and turned his head to face you with your eyes meeting his, your eyes now giving off a dull orange glow.

Followed by what might be considered a misplaced giggle passing your lips, Wanda watched as Hayward seemed to fold in on himself. His thrashing to retaliate turned into a struggle to seemingly just get away from your gaze.

"Done yet?" Your voice came out low and close to his ear, and you heard his heart rate pick up further as your hand clenched harder in his hair.

‘Please, please, please! I don’t want to be here! I have to get out, dammit!’

It was odd for all of them to see this sudden change in attitude, no doubt caused by the mutant busboy who still had yet to say a word to them directly.

You looked up to see Wanda and those with her rising from their seats, the two men moving toward your form still holding Hayward to the floor. The old man was basically blubbering at this point, almost incoherent due to his erratic breathing.

“I believe Sam and Bucky can handle things from here. Do you mind?” Wanda’s voice was even as she spoke to you. You moved off of Hayward’s body and out of the way for, who you now know as Sam and Bucky, to heave him off of the ground. “Take him out back boys. We’ll let Monica know on our way out, give her a heads up before we send in the sweepers.” Her gaze settled on you as you stood up from the floor. You felt a spike of curiosity coming from the woman left with her that only persisted when Wanda stepped closer to you.

Wanda eyed you up and down as your eyes shone back at her. “I’d like to thank you for your assistance, regardless of the necessity. I don’t think I’ve seen you work at Monica's bar before,”

You gave a single nod, “I’m new.” Your voice was gravelly and clipped, Wanda noticing that there was noticeable scarring around your throat that would lead one to assume you sustained an injury of some kind.

Looking into your mind was its own venture. Your immediate memories were a mirror of the events that transpired, the people talking in them making unintelligible noises, not unlike the adults in Peanuts cartoons.

The further back Wanda looked, the fuzzier they got, like the hippocampus was affected directly. There were some that were clear as day: The day your father traded you to the prime minister of Niganda for his own freedom. Your first days under a “Dr. Paine” and your short-lived freedom after the lab was taken down. Some of your time in mutant trafficking including a few of the “masters'' who had you. A clear recollection of the man who had your vocal cords clipped for being mouthier than he’d like. The day you escaped, and finally to the day Monica found you wandering Mutant Town before hiring you here about a month ago.

These "core memories" were on a subconscious and grating loop in your mind so that you couldn't forget them. Everything else in between was basically lost as it was like trying to look through frosted glass. There was little direction and purpose other than surviving to the next day.

Equal parts distressing and intriguing to say the least…

As Wanda spent the last minute or so staring you down, your focus shifted to the woman behind Wanda. You didn’t catch her name, but you know she was a mutant based off of the distinct sweet smell complimenting her rainwater and pine trail.

They’re obviously close; she hasn’t stepped away from Wanda’s side once. Not too many humans would willingly put themselves in the company of mutants. Guess you can count this Wanda woman among those in the minority along with a few others like your boss.

When Wanda comes back to the present, she stares at you with a new light in her eyes as they dipped down to your nametag. “I like you, Y/n. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other.” She rested a hand on your shoulder and suddenly you smelled a change in her scent- no, it became clearer.

Wanda’s scent was a sugar-coated apricot with a spike of cinnamon as it accented the air around her, then it hit you:

Wanda is also a mutant.

And somehow you knew you’d remember her for the long haul.

#marvel #marvel one shots #a simple meet-cute #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #???wanda maximoff #hyena!mutant!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x yn #scarlet syndicate au #jc inkworks #ink.wanda #ib-jc.

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. | 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬

part six of do you feel my hand? it is there. | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: veterinarian!minho (this includes a few of the skz members working in his clinic). client!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. strangers to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. minho is reader's vet. reader is now his past client. drinking alcohol and getting drunk/tipsy is mentioned. things are starting to get suggestive in this one. also, smut is coming very soon. :))

word count: 3.0k

summary: dr. lee minho is known throughout your area as the city's hottest veterinarian, and he's also the very man that's been taking good care of your two cats for the past three years. but one day, you're thrown down a dark path of heartache when the cat that you've grown up with - nyx - is diagnosed with an acute form of bone cancer. burdened with the hardest decision of your entire life, you come at a crossroads of what to do. and throughout it all, minho is the single most person who continually stays by your side.

a/n: these past few days have been real tough ones for me, but I thought I'd give you guys an update with this fic since I'm really excited to reveal the other parts to it. after I finish posting this series, I'm going to spend a few weeks working on finishing up my wip list. 🤓 and THEN- since my poll just finished, I've officially decided to start working on the felix longfic summer!au series after I complete everything else. also, I hope to open up my requests again within the next month or two, so please look forward to everything I've got planned! 🤭 also- please continue to support and love skz throughout this season of their new comeback... try to buy their albums/stream the new music if you can so that they have a chance to win at the year-end awards... let's strive for a mama win this year, you guys!!💞

🐈‍⬛ - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

 The first thing you noticed when you awoke was the quietness. Your ears weren’t used to the silence, as your mind had been crammed with so many voices and shouts and laughter and blasting music for hours on end. 

 But all at once, the stark change was downright unnerving. 

 That, and the fact that you couldn’t feel the warm presence from before at your side anymore. 

 Cracking your eyes open slowly, you came to the stark realization that the living room was… empty. There wasn’t a single sign of life anywhere. The floor was picked up of any sort of mess - the game controllers put away, the bags of chips and candy and cans of beer all having disappeared. The tv was still on, showcasing a dark ambiance screen saver of a fireplace. The living room curtains were closed shut tightly, blocking you from catching a glimpse of the moon just outside. Other than that, the only light filtering into the room came off to the side, where the hallway lead into the adjoining kitchen. 

 You threw the warm blanket off of your legs, adjusting your dress and running a hand through your hair as you made your way to the only remaining light source. Like a moth to a flame. You didn’t know how long you had slept, but seeing as it was still dark out - you noticed the dim sky through a window as you passed through the hallway - you assumed only an hour or two. Surprisingly, your rest had helped to stave off your hangover, and you weren’t feeling nearly as tipsy as you were right before you dozed off. 

 As you neared a small table that was placed in the hallway, you read that it was approaching three in the morning. Damn, you had surely overstayed your welcome. 

 Upon stepping into the kitchen’s threshold, you came face-to-face with a busy figure at the counters. With a proud back and messy, black locks. He was humming a low tune to himself, as he wiped down the pristine marble with a damp cloth. 

 “Hi,” is all you could manage, voice coming out a little scratchy from disuse and the dryness from all the alcohol. 

 He turned around on you, face lighting up with surprise. He didn’t expect you to be awake, it would seem. “Hi yourself,” he said, as he finished polishing up the counters and made to throw the towel in a nearby basket that you assumed held dirty laundry. “I was just going to go out there and check up on you.” 

 You toed at the ground, having taken off your heels early on in the night. Clearing your throat in the sudden awkwardness that had sprung up between the two of you in the past few hours, you said, “When did the guys leave?” 

 “Just a little while ago, I’ve been cleaning up since then- they always leave a bomb for me to repair after a party like this.” Minho was leaning against the farthest counter, his eyes trained on the nearby marble that he had just cleaned. Like he couldn’t stand the sight of you. Like you were annoying him by just your presence alone. 

 You swallowed around the dryness in your throat, already feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the complete one-eighty that he had taken in regards to you. 

 It hurt. 

 It hurt really fucking bad. 

But then, you found yourself talking, and before you even realized it, the words were flowing out of your mouth, unbidden and unstoppable. “I-I’m sorry I dozed off- I totally overstayed my welcome…” 

 Minho pulled his eyes away from the kitchen counter then, leveling you with those warm irises of his that seemed to soften just a tiny bit. His brows furrowed at your distressed state, lips falling open slightly in confusion. “Don’t worry about it, you’re always welcome here.”

 “No, I think coming here was a bad idea,” you started, the tears finally breaking free and racing down either of your cheeks. Your face felt like it had been lit on fire, as you flushed violently from the embarrassment and humiliation of it all. “I-I sorry, I just… I should go-”

 And you were turning out of the kitchen then, down the hallway, towards the front door. Your little sniffles rang out against the walls that slowly felt like they were closing in on you, your heart echoing in your ears as the blood rushed through your system. 

 You didn’t hear your name being called out until you were stopped dead in your tracks by fingers clutching onto one of your wrists. They pulled and pulled, desperately and quietly. 

 “I’m sorry,” he said, voice strained and low in his throat. The tears made your vision blurry, as you stared in front of you, taking in the small painting of a cat that was placed near his front door. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m-”

 You let out a tiny scoff, shaking your head, trying to clear your mind from all of the murky thoughts that ran through it. “You can’t even look at me. You haven’t been able to all night, so just… just forget it. I knew it was a horrible idea coming tonight anyway, I should’ve listened to myself.” When you tried to yank your wrist out of his grasp, he only clutched on tighter, fingers digging into your palm. 

 “Please, don’t say that, I loved having you here tonight- everyone did.” 

 “Yeah, but you sure didn’t act like it.” 

 “And I’m sorry for being such an asshole. I- it’s just been really hard for me, that’s all.” 

 You turned around, finally catching sight of his face. Cheekbones dusty with shadows, lips pressed into a wavering line, chest falling in short, anxious breaths. And then you noticed his outfit, for the millionth time that night. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t noticed it back in the kitchen, but the zipper on his tight black shirt had fallen even further down his chest than ever before, teasing and teasing at what lay underneath. 

 Swallowing at that, you met his gaze. He was a little bit taller than you, and you realized how closed-in the space around you felt… practically cornered in the hallway, near his door but not too near. “What’s been hard? What are you even talking about, Dr. Lee?” 

 He ran a frustrated hand through his midnight tresses, heaving a large sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, almost like it pained him to say his next words. “First, you suddenly disappear from everything- no more phone calls, no more visits, no more glimpses of you passing by during the work week. Then, you unexpectedly show up again at that cafe and try your hardest to avoid me altogether. And then, you appear right in front of my eyes, looking like-”

 Stopping himself, he bit down on his plush bottom lip, his eyes running down the length of you. Practically undressing you with his stare alone. And just that sight alone caused you to squirm in your spot. Lit a match deep inside of you. 

 When his eyes locked with yours again, you found enough courage to speak again and you somehow recovered from his blatant perusal of your body. “What? How did my showing up tonight change things?” Without thinking, your hands were traveling up the front of him, landing on either of his broad shoulders and pulling him a little closer to you. 

 He swallowed, his stare practically devouring you whole as he allowed you to draw him near. So that you could catch his scent - of warm chamomile and sweet cookies. “I thought I was doing better- thought I was strong enough. But then you showed up tonight looking so fucking ethereal - like an angel rising from a glorious throne - and I just… I couldn’t take it any longer,” you felt your lungs constrict at his confession, heart thumping wildly against your ribcage. “But I know what you think, that… that I’m just your local vet and nothing more and-”

 “Y-You think I look like an angel?” You asked, voice turning breathless. From the nearness of him, from his words. But especially, the things he was telling you. They sounded so sweet on his tongue, so whole and flawless. 

 Minho nodded, slowly, staring down at you with those coffee-coloured eyes of his. “But you’re more than just that. You’re… this unobtainable goddess that I just- can’t get enough of.” 

 “I wore it for you.” 

 A beat of silence, a slight intake of breath, and then,

 “What?” 

 “I said… this outfit, I wore it tonight only for you and you alone.” 

 You heard movement. Limbs shifted and the air surrounding you crackled with tension. Then, fingers were dancing underneath your chin, and a warm palm was pressing into one of your cheeks. You leaned into the touch, peering up at him. 

 Marveling at the way that his mouth hung open slightly in apparent shock, as his mind slowly began to process your words. His eyes raced over your face, again and again. Like if he peered at you long enough, he’d be able to tell whether you were lying or not. 

 But then a sardonic kind of smirk spread across his lips, as he canted his head to one side and raised a dark, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way. “Well, that’s just comical because I wore this for you tonight... but, did you know that mint is my favorite color?”

 Your eyes widened at that and your heart skipped a beat at the realization that you had worn his favorite color.

 To a party that he had hosted.

 At his place. 

 The implications that you hadn't even known you were making by your outfit alone were beyond you.

 Your focus landed on his attire again - for what felt like the millionth time already. At the loose, dark cargo pants and the matching shirt that was just begging to be taken off.  

 Feeling yourself mimicking his expression, you reached out and played with the silvery zipper that was positioned halfway down his chest. “I like it- a lot. Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you all night.” 

 A dry laugh escaped him, and you watched, as his pupils brightened with a certain kind of heat. “That much I could tell…” 

 And before you could even grasp what was happening, his touch against your cheek was moving, fingers traveling over to your mouth. Tracing the outline of it, before his thumb played with your bottom lip, pulling it out slightly from the way that it had been held between your teeth. 

 The panic began to rise inside of you then, as you began to understand what was happening. What he was about to do. Why he was leaning into you ever so slowly. 

 Your hands were on his chest in an instant, stopping him from going any further. His fingertips burned on your flesh - scorching your chin and lips in tandem. “W-We shouldn’t…” You gasped out, voice turning strangled from how badly you wanted everything. Him, and his love, and his attention. It hurt you to your core, to push back from the very thing that you had been pining over for so very long. 

 “Why?”

 “B-Because… I was your client and things were always supposed to remain professional and you-” 

 His thumb swiped at your bottom lip again, tantalizing and tempting you all at the same time. And for a moment, you almost gave into your inhibitions and allowed him to draw nearer to you. But then you remembered who he was- and who you were. And how such opposites could never mesh well together. Perhaps things would be okay for a little while, but gradually, over time, mistakes would happen, promises would be broken, and you’d be back at square one all over again… soul torn into two pieces from the harsh breakup of a relationship that you had thought would last forever. 

 “What, Y/N? I’m what?” He asked, a slight harshness dripping into the words. Almost like he had heard such sentiments before. Almost like, all of the women he had been with in the past had been in your same position, at one point or another. 

 “You’re so much better than me - you’re this incredible, famous, successful businessman and doctor and I’m just… I’m just a woman who lives in a shitty apartment in a sketchy part of town because I barely make breadcrumbs and survive from paycheck to paycheck.”

 The finger tracing across your mouth stopped then, as he took in your words. And as much as you wanted to avoid his gaze at that moment, you found that you couldn’t. His stare was like twin magnets, and your soul was a piece of metal. Irrevocably drawn, no matter what you did. So you caught his intense regard, the way that his pupils darkened and practically bored into your soul wholly. 

 Like he was ripping the very fabric of your being apart, as he studied your form and who you were, and what you had just revealed to him. 

 So there it was. 

 You had spoken your biggest fear out into the open, where he would consequently drop you like a hot, rotten potato because ‘he doesn’t date broke girls.’ 

 “And you think that just because you make less money than me - just because you don’t live an ideal, rich life, that you don’t deserve me?” His palm was moving across your face as he spoke the words in a hushed whisper. So that only you could hear him, in that intimate, swarthy corner of his apartment’s hallway. His fingers threaded through your hair, tucking a few of the loose strands behind one of your ears. “That you don’t deserve my love?” 

 You swallowed thickly, shoving all of the heartache and arousal to the deepest parts of your mind. 

 Because truly, what was even going on? 

 Were you living in a dream right now? 

 Did Dr. Lee Minho just confess that he’s in love with you? 

It was all too much for your slightly-tipsy mind to process, and suddenly, your legs were turning shaky, melting into a pile of jelly on the ground. You were swaying forward, and if it hadn’t been for Minho catching you at that moment, you would have toppled onto the cold tiled ground like a complete fool. 

 You peered up at him with wide eyes, mouth falling open slightly in the shock of it all. In the way that he held onto you so completely - so firm yet delicate all at once. His face was contorted into a mix of sadness and… anger. 

 “You’re just this… amazing guy, who seems untouchable and all-knowing. And- and practically every woman in the city wants you at this point. I see them, I hear them… when they come into the clinic, they ogle you and talk about their newest outfits to try and make you fall for them. And I just- I can’t compete with all of that. I only have a few outfits that I wear daily that look decent enough, and this dress is something I’ve had since my Freshman year of university and I-”

 “None of that matters to me, Y/N,” Minho said, breaking through your incoherent ramblings and dumping an ice-cold bucket of water on your entire being. He never broke your gaze, as his arms that were still holding you moved in fluidly. And then, you were being pressed up against the nearby wall, with one of his palms clutching at your waist and the other threading through your locks. His fingers gripped gently, pulling at the roots. He moved closer still, wedging a knee between either of your legs so that he was but a mere hairsbreadth away from your face. “I only want you. I don’t care about the paychecks and the pomp and the jewels that all of those other women can offer. I just want you… I want all of you, even the ugly and sad and broken bits.” 

 You felt the tears stinging at the corners of your eyes before you even spoke again. “Do you really mean that? Are you truly sure that you don’t want a woman who lives the same lavish lifestyle as you?” You asked, shoulders shaking from the sharp inhale that you took upon his proximity and everything that he was telling you. 

 He flashed you a tiny grin, fingers resting at the nape of your neck and messaging gentle circles into the skin there. “I’m more sure about this than I’ve been about anything in my entire life.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours in an intimate kind of way. “But one word from you - one sign that you don’t feel the same way - and I’ll be gone from your life forever.” 

 “No,” you blurted out in a strangled voice, even surprising yourself with how fast the word slipped from your lips. “No- I want this. I’ve wanted this so badly for so long and… and I just, I can’t wrap my head around the fact that you feel the same. That you care about me to the extent that I do for you.” 

 Minho’s warm breath fanned against your nose, as he grunted out a quiet laugh. You turned your gaze up then, finding the way that his eyes were alight with a myriad of feelings… but the one that was the most potent was love. 

 And as clear as day, you realized that all of the times in the past that he had looked on at you with such soft eyes, he was silently conveying his love for you.

 “Can I kiss you now?” It felt like the world was dropping out from right under your feet, as you took in all of him. The way that his black hair was disheveled from the long night and the way that a certain kind of sparkle now shined on every feature of his face. 

 You canted your head to one side, giving him your best easy smile. “Please- I thought you’d never ask.” 

 And then he was leaning into you - finally - and all of the other worries and hurts and feelings leftover inside of you all but dissipated, as the two of you fit together like two immaculate puzzle pieces made to be conjoined.

 Mouth against mouth, tongue swiping against tongue. And everything was blissful and effervescent and otherworldly. 

To be continued...

taglist: want to be added onto my taglist? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can send me a msg and request to be added~

🌾 tags: @sleepyleeji :: @if-spearb :: @hyunes4ngel :: @drhsthl :: @seosalad :: @toomuchtellyneck :: @endzii23 :: @smally97 :: @ana-marais98 :: @sherryblossom :: @priincehoseok :: @biribarabiribbaem :: @linovely :: @lolqxv :: @linonyang :: @morningstardada :: @taeriffic :: @day6andetcetera :: @hyuka-luvbot :: @/leyknxw a yellow tag means that there was an error in tagging you.

#skz #stray kids #skz lee know #skz minho #skz lee Minho #skz oneshot #skz fanfic #skz longfic #skz smut #skz angst #skz minho angst #skz minho smut #skz minho angst fanfic #skz minho smut fanfic #skz minho angst and smut #skz lee know smut #skz lee know angst #stray kids lee know angst fanfic #stray kids lee know smut oneshot #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz minho x y/n #skz lee know x y/n #skz lee know x reader #skz scenarios #skz series #skz minho fluff #skz minho oneshot #skz lee know oneshot #skz lee know smut oneshot

[strawberryblue-blog]

Say that again. Part 2. —Mason Mount

warning: a little of angst, curses.

words: +3k

#sexynote: thank you sm for the support <3 More is coming soon ;) xoxo

8 months later.

Returning to London was a difficult decision to make. Especially when you had left everything behind, with thousands of doubts and uncertainty, not knowing what would happen.

It was no secret that what hurt you the most was leaving Mason, after that night of your goodbye, you never saw him again. And you could still feel your skin crawl at the memory of his confession and his wish for you not to leave. But it was your decision and you were as eager as anyone to leave England to start a new life in Norway.

Every day that passed, you were convinced that you had already forgotten Mason and after so many months, he would have forgotten you too. It was obvious that his was a whim, as it had always been.

The flight home was pretty smooth and quick, excited to see your friends again. Sophia would be waiting for you at the airport and the anxiousness made you shiver as you walked through the gate carrying your things, expecting to see your best friend on the other side and just as you imagined, there she was. You ran to her and grabbed her in a big hug when she opened her hands to receive you, wrapping you in a big, warm embrace.

"I missed you so much," she squealed happily, still turning in her embrace.

"Me too, darling" you kissed her cheek softly.

"What about me?" you heard someone's manly voice speak. Of course he had come. He never let his girlfriend go anywhere alone.

"Mr. Havertz"you greeted with a laugh, jumping into his arms.

"Hi, little bug" you whispered, slipping into his embrace. "I almost didn't recognize you".

"It's only been eight months, Kai," you tapped his shoulder gently.

"It's been a long time since you left, bug". You smiled a little, nodding.

"Well, we're leaving now," your friend took your hand, leading you to the exit. Her boyfriend snorted at having to be the one to take all your stuff, and don't lie, it was kind of funny.

You arrived at his house after a trip full of questions and answers from both of you, especially Sophia, who wanted to know everything about your trip and your new life. You were very excited to see your friends and your parents again, who you missed like nobody else.

"Tomorrow is the game, will you come," asked Kai when they were having dinner. "I'll see my parents," you said, denying. "Maybe I'll see you later"

Sophia gave you a glimpse of complicity. Kai didn't know what had happened with Mason, you never told him and you really hoped Mason hadn't told him anything. You knew Kai was protective, he wouldn't choose you or Mason, but putting the pressure on him to know what happened between you wasn't something you wanted for their relationship, as Kai and Mason were good friends and work colleagues.

After dinner, Kai went upstairs to take a shower while you and Sophia stayed after dinner, drinking a last glass of wine.

Your friend didn't broach the subject and you were grateful she was so empathetic to you because coming back home had already upset your stomach and talking about Mason would make everything worse.

So you stayed up late chatting, trying to hide the urge to ask about him that you had. You'd only seen a couple of news stories about the club and that he was dating a famous girl, but you never inquired because you didn't want to go back to your past.

(...)

The next morning you woke up and had breakfast with your friends, still talking about so many things that had happened since you had returned. You were waiting for your mother's message that she would pick you up, but after a while, you were still waiting.

"We're leaving now," Sophia announced from the door of your room.

"See you later," you waved. "Try to score a goal for me," you squealed to Kai when he stuck his head out.

"I will," he said proudly, making you smile. -See you later, right?

You nodded, raising your hand to dismiss him. You went back to lie in bed waiting for news from your mother, so after a while you decided to call him.

"Honey!" she squealed happily.

"Hi mom, I'm here waiting for you for lunch" you said quickly.

"Oh, honey" she said somewhat disappointed. "Your father had forgotten we had a golf game and I didn't let you know."

"Really, Mom?" you snorted.

"Honey, we talked on video call yesterday and you'll be staying for almost two months. We'll have time to catch up and cuddle a lot" I commented amused.

You smiled as you heard your father's call from afar.

"It's okay, Mom" you agreed. "Call me when they're done."

"Peter, honey, T/n on the phone!" she shrieked towards your father. "He's about to play, see you honey!"

You laughed with a laugh as you heard your dad say something to your mom that you couldn't understand. You really missed your parents and it was true, you still had a lot of time to catch up. Going back to London had really made your head a mess, full of nostalgia.

You snorted, dropping the phone as you stared at the ceiling. Now what would you do? You closed your eyes trying to think.

I need you. I've always liked you.

Mason's words echoed in your head and the memories of that day came back to your mind.

You brought your hand to your chest as your heart began to pound. Don't think so hard, your subconscious said.

And just as you thought, you got up and grabbed your bag quickly, heading out to the street. You called for a cab and it didn't take you long to get to the city party. The streets were decorated in that tone blue you liked so much, people walking in them wearing club shirts, you could even read a few with your name on them.

Everything was just as you remembered.

You called Sophia and told her what had happened, so she quickly came for you at the entrance of the stadium.

You didn't even know why you had come. You just wanted to feel again what you had felt a long time ago. Your ears filled with the chorus of the stands at full volume, while the screams could be heard for miles. Your skin crawled as your eyes focused on the field, trying to find the one person you had come for.

That's when your eyes found him.

Number 19 in the center of the field.

You sighed settling into your seat as Sophia's hand took yours squeezing it, as your friend could see how you were somewhat distant from the new feeling.

The match was quite intense for both, hopefully the match would end with a victory for the blues. Your eyes hadn't stopped following number 19 since you had arrived, trying to meet his gaze but you knew he wouldn't look at you. He didn't even know you were back in London, not even that you were in the same stadium as him.

When the referee blew the final whistle, you stood up from your place, ready to go to the car to wait for your friends. Among the people you tried to walk, when a premonition echoed in your chest. Out of the corner of your eye you turned your head slightly, meeting those eyes for the first time.

Those deep black eyes staring back at you from the center of the court, recognizing you in the crowd. Mason stood static for a few moments and though you did too, you lowered your head to keep walking. The heart in your chest was beginning to pound as the urge to cry came over you.

You ended up in the aisles of the stadium on the verge of tachycardia for remembering what had happened that night. His lips on yours, his words, his touch. You hadn't felt anything like that since you left and you were sure you'd never feel it again, but you couldn't let him win this fight.

The hustle and bustle of the crowd began to die down as you moved deeper into the corridors, you picked up the phone to call your friend, trying to find your way out, you had forgotten how to escape this place. A jolt to your body made you stop, someone else had bumped into you as you were trying to read the exit signs.

"I'm sorry" apologized the other person.

And suddenly, you stopped breathing.

There it was. The one person who was capable of taking your breath away. The person you were most afraid to meet. Was the universe against you?

Why didn't you stop, why didn't you apologize and act like a normal person, why didn't your body seem to connect with your mind, why didn't your body seem to connect with your mind?

"Y/n..." he whispered.

A shiver ran down your spine.

Slowly you began to turn around, seeing him standing there in front of you. He was still wearing his team outfit, his hair damp and his face somewhat exhausted.

He looked so gorgeous.

"Hello, Mason" you greeted simply. You waited for a response but he didn't say anything else, he just stood static as he had a few moments ago.

"I have to go, it was nice to see you again" you forced yourself to smile a little, masking the ache in your chest.

All this time you thought you were over him but deep in your heart you knew, you could never forget Mason. Every day that passed you tried to move on, but leaving him that night hadn't been easy. And seeing him again wasn't either.

You turned away from your spot again, starting to walk slowly away from Mason. You were surprised to hear nothing more from him.

Why wasn't he saying anything? Wasn't he going to stop you? Had he given up on love?

Had he given up on you? Your heart shattered.

Maybe Mason had forgotten you, maybe he had found that person. He didn't love you anymore. Maybe he never had.

You had come back just for him.

You wanted to stop lying to yourself and your friends or family. You had come back to London just for Mason.

You wanted him back. But you lost him.

You were tired of running away from him and you wanted to tell him everything... but it was too late. Mason had forgotten you.

He had moved on.

You quickly turned to see him and your eyes filled with tears as you saw his back receding down the hallway.

Now it was he who was running away from you.

"Mason!" you screamed at the top of your lungs.

Please stop. You wanted to scream for him.

A tear spilled down your cheek when he wouldn't stop.

"Stop, Mason!" you begged again. "Please"

And when you least expected it, he stopped.

Your steps were giant as you walked toward him, charged in courage and bravery.

You weren't going to run away again. Head held high and heart pounding, you weren't going to let him go.

You reached Mason in a matter of seconds, who still had his back turned but as you sensed behind him, he gently spun around. His face was uneasy, his gaze dull, a sad grimace in his expression

"You won't say anything?" you asked.

Mason lifted his shoulders dejectedly.

"All right, I'll do the talking."

You didn't mind standing in the middle of the hallway cause you had so much to say. You wouldn't stand another minute with so much on your chest.

"I'm sorry" you started. "I never wanted to leave, Mason. But I had to" you said sure. "I couldn't stay when I didn't know what I felt or wanted but I know I hurt you and maybe you hate me and that's okay."

You sighed to find more courage than you already had.

"I should have called or even said something but I didn't know if what you had said that night was true, we were drunk and you had always played with me, I was scared..."

You loved Mason. You love Mason. More then anyone.

You had realized that since you had run away from him that day. While you were taking the flight, when you met your new friends, when you went to your new college, even when you were with other men. You had always loved him.

"I love you, Mason" you confessed to his bright gaze. "I know it's late, but i don't want to leave without telling you."

The words had come like a song from your mouth and now you felt the emptiness in your chest. But the pain was still there.

Mason hadn't said a word other than to look at you with his lost gaze and droopy eyes.

It's okay. You thought holding back tears, you didn't want a show in the middle of the halls of state.

You deserve it. You thought again.

Determined, you turned to, this time, leave the place for good.

But you couldn't.

The gentle touch of his warm hand stopped you by the forearm and memories took you back to that night.

That night that had changed everything.

You even went ahead of him and desperately your lips impacted with his, joining us in a perfect kiss. His lips felt just as you had imagined a million times when you were far away.

Soft, warm and delicious like the first time you had kissed them.

His large hands settled on your waist pulling you as close to his body as possible while yours embraced his muscular back, squeezing it as you felt the comfort of being in his arms again.

The rhythm of the kiss had gained intensity as the minutes passed, your lips seeking no rest as they needed each other more and more after so long. It was as if their bodies had become glued together from the electricity that coursed through them in their reconciliation kiss.

"Say that again" you asked as he did that night. "Say you can't let me go, Mason and i won't leave" you begged in a whisper remembering his words.

"I can't let you go, Y/n" he said against your lips. His forehead resting against yours as his nose nuzzled yours.

Because you didn't plan on leaving again. You knew the moment you saw Mason Mount again, you couldn't leave him.

And you were sure that this time, you would stay by his side.

PD: 2:30 in the morning and here i am writing for you. I hope you enjoy it, thanks for your support!!!!!

More imagines are coming soon, stay tuned <3

#mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount #football imagines #football one shot #chelsea football club #christian pulisic #kai havertz #imagine #joao felix x reader

[ramsayxme]

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / AO3 Link

TW - violence, murder, flaying, murder (of a child), physical abuse, emotional abuse, sex, smut, full blown stockholm syndrome, gaslighting yourself, ramsay bolton. I hope you enjoyed my 10 chapters! Thank you so much for reading x

Chapter Ten: And Full Of Terrors

You both awoke to a servant knocking on your door and your infant crying in his bed. You rolled out of bed to grab your squalling baby and Ramsay pulled on trousers to answer the knocking. Ramses quickly latched to your breast, ready for breakfast. You laid back in bed, pulling the blankets high to shield your body from the servant. Ramsay opened the door and a very nervous young man stood on the other side. "My Lord. I am sorry if I woke you, but there is something happening in the courtyard you need to attend to." His voice broke multiple times through the sentence.

Ramsay huffed. "Alright. Let me get dressed... and this better be important." He shook his finger at the servant. "I'll be out in a minute." He shut the door, allow privacy once again. Ramsay looked at you and rolled his eyes regarding the servant. "Sorry, My Lady. I have to go handle this." He pulled a dusty grey waffle-knit over his head before donning his leathers. "Wait a moment and let me come with you. The Little Lord can start his lessons early." You smiled. Ramsay chuckled. "Fine, but bundle him up." Of course you would. Ramsay held his son as you got yourself ready to leave as well and swaddled baby Ramses in the finest furs. You tied him to your chest so the three of you could head down to the courtyard.

You closely followed your husband, his cloak draped over his powerful shoulders and swaying with his steps. With each swing of the cloak, you caught a glimpse of the handful of knives and daggers that he kept on his waistband. You loved how powerful he was. His curls coiled together on the back of his neck and his ears peered out from the dark waves. He walked with confidence, each step oozing of power and purpose. You felt like the most powerful woman to exist as you floated behind him, his heir cooing at your breast.

You exited the stone walls and were met with icy air hitting your face, your hands instinctively covering your baby with your cloak, wrapping it around his tiny body. Ramsay wasn't affected by the cold, his hair blowing softly as it began collecting snowflakes. There was a small group of men, their metal helmets reflecting the snow and making them gleam. "What is it?" Ramsay barked as you approached the men. Without speaking, they began leading Ramsay to the large entrance of the Dreadfort. The wooden doors were towering over you as they pushed them open. On the other side stood a shivering woman, frail and afraid. She held hands with a small boy who looked to be around 4 years old.

Ramsay stood still as a statue, staring at the woman. He turned his head towards the men, and put his hands up, his leather gloves squeaking as he pointed to the woman. "And how is this my concern?" The men nodded and looked at the woman. She had tattered clothes and long blonde hair that was matted in knots. The small boy had black hair and piercing blue eyes. His jaw was prominent and he wasn't shivering. You stared at your husband as he took in the sight.

"Ramsay..." the woman practically whispered. "You don't remember me?" You felt your heart jump, the jealousy and anger bubbling up in your chest. You tensed your body and wished you had brought your knives with you. "No." Your husband said, "Why would I?" She took a step closer, causing all of the men to tense up into attack mode. Ramsay chuckled. "I don't think she will be attacking me. Let her speak." The men relaxed, stepping back to their previous spots. "Ramsay... years ago we lay together. I woke up and you had fled, but..." her voice trailed off as she turned to the boy. Ramsay stared at the child. You were unable to read his expression.

"This is your son." She put her hand on the boys back and gently pushed him forward. He took a few small steps closer to Ramsay and stared up at him. Ramsay gazed at the boy intently. "No, no... if he is mine, he is a bastard, not my son. This is my son, my true heir." He turned to point to you and Ramses. Your eyes were locked on the woman, hatred boiling in your chest and heat pouring into your cheeks. She met your eyes and curtsied with her rags. "My Lady, I mean no disrespect, I mean no trouble-" You interrupted her. "If you meant no trouble, you should have stayed far away. Shut the gates." You demanded the men.

Ramsay held his hand up. "Bring them to the guest chambers. My wife and I will need to discuss a few things but until then, they can rest." Your jaw dropped, your fury now directed at your husband. Ramsay turned on his heels and grabbed your arm. You followed him to the kennels where it was quiet. "Ramsay! I will not-" He interrupted you with his hand on your throat, pushing you backwards into a stone wall. "Let me speak!" He hissed, spitting on your face. "I do not want a bastard son and I do not want this whore woman. I am simply allowing them to come inside until I decide what I want to do with them. Do not question my power again, do you understand?" You stared at your husband, teeth grinding together as you nodded.

"Wonderful. Now, for all we know, this woman is lying. I don't recognize her." You rolled your eyes. "The boy looks like you." You muttered, jealousy oozing from your lips. Ramsay's face twisted into a grin. "Why, you're jealous aren't you? Does it bother you to think about me fucking her before I even knew you?" You growl as you shove Ramsay. Your shove barely moves your sturdy husband. He chuckles. "You're angry. I like when you're angry. My wild wife." He coos, nuzzling into your neck. Ramses is asleep at your chest, so Ramsay can't press his body against you. He kisses your neck, sucking hard and leaving a mark.

While he kisses your neck, he whispers into your ear. "We can get rid of them. Shall we feed them to the dogs? Burn them? Flay them? I'll let you pick, my love... my gift to you." You purr when you hear him say this. You press your lips against his, moaning with passion as your tongue slithers into his mouth. You bite his lower lip hard and twist it between your teeth, making him gasp and pull away. "My feisty bitch!" He grins, blood dripping down his chin. You smile. "Let me take care of the woman. You do whatever you want with the bastard."

Ramsay agreed to this fairly quickly. You had a strong inkling that he found your possessiveness over him quite attractive. Nobody was going to interrupt your life, touch your husband, or push your child to the side. "I think I will tell the bastard that I accept him as mine and want to show him around his new home. When we come in here," Ramsay pointed around the kennels. "I will put him in my biggest girl's kennel and let her get a nice treat." He grinned wickedly at you. "And what will you do?" He kissed your cheek before kissing the black hair on your son's head.

"I want to flay her." You whispered. Ramsay's eyebrows raised. "You've never flayed anyone before, love." You nodded. "I know. I want to flay her, though. I want it to be slow and painful, so she will regret that she ever left her home. And just before she dies, I will tell her what happened to her bastard son!" You chuckled as you watched Ramsay's eyes grow wide with lust. He lets out a snarl as he leans into your neck and bites down, his hot mouth leaving another mark on you. "I'll fetch the boy. You head inside and I'll send the woman in." He whispered before he vanished behind the stone walls.

You ran to your chambers to grab your flaying knife, bow, and some arrows before heading to the torture room. You lay Ramses down for a nap, kissing him on his little forehead. Once you reached the room with the large wooden X, you snuck into a dark corner hidden from view. You remembered Reek in that moment, his frail body dangling from the large wooden cross. More importantly, you remembered the sex that you and Ramsay had on the floor, a wave of fluttering rose in your core as you remembered how it felt. Shortly after you arrived in the room, a few men of the Dreadfort brought the woman into the room, kicking and shrieking. You bit your lip in anticipation, excited to flay this whore that wanted to ruin your life.

She was left on the X, crying and wailing. "Please! My son and I will leave right away! I just thought Lord Bolton would want to meet his son!" She was flailing wildly, the chains clanging on her wrists and ankles. You felt furious at that statement and decided that now was the time to walk out from the shadows. "He does know his son." You said, rising from the darkness of the corner. She trembled as she looked at you. "I gave him his son, his true born heir. Not some bastard he had with a whore. He doesn't love you!" Your voice was gruff, anger settling in your throat.

"Please... We will leave right now. Forgive us." She begged, her eyes dark and wide with fear. You smirked as you got closer to her. "I think it's too late for that." You pulled your knife from behind your back and pointed it at her. "You walked in here like you would take my place. Did you really think that would work?" You pressed the point of your knife to her throat. "No, My Lady, I don't want to take your place. I wouldn't want to be with that monster!" She cried out as you pressed the metal against her skin.

"He is NOT a monster." You growled through your gritted teeth. "Take it back." She shook her head, tears falling from her eyes. "He is a monster, and so are you if you don't see it!" You laughed at her ignorance. "Stupid whore." You muttered as you pressed the knife even harder against her skin, nearly piercing it. You heard the faint sound of barking from the window. You gasped theatrically and leaned in to the woman. "Do you hear that? Shh, listen..."

She started blubbering when she heard a scream when the dogs began barking even louder. "Terrible. I am sorry you had to hear that... but, the dogs have to eat." You grinned, staring at her as she cried out for her bastard son. "Where should I start peeling first?" You asked the woman between her sobs. "Please!" She blubbered. You rolled your eyes as you leaned down, slicing the skin open across her kneecaps. She howled in pain as your knife slipped through her skin easily. You grabbed the flap of skin that hung over her fresh wound and began slowly but steadily pulling it up towards yourself. Her screams were deafening.

Suddenly, you felt hands on your hips. It startled you, since you couldn't hear anyone coming on account of the woman's whining. You spun around to see Ramsay smiling at you proudly. He had blood on his arms and hands, his leathers were off and he was only wearing the grey loose-fitting shirt. You pressed into his body with yours, leaning fully into his arms as you kissed him. You felt warmth immediately between your thighs as he gripped your waist. "Well done, well done!" He chuckled, admiring what you'd done to the woman so far. You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach when you knew Ramsay was impressed by you. "Shall we finish the job together, my love?" Ramsay asked, releasing his own flaying knife from its sheath.

--

The woman was completely flayed and the bastard was no longer existing. Ramsay was breathing heavy as he stepped back from the wooden X and draped his arm around your shoulders, you both had bloody hands and arms. You stared at your husband, watching him breathe through his grinding teeth. He peered over at you and flashed a smile. "I'm very proud of you." He raised his eyebrows and turned to you, placing a hand on your cheek. You felt your cheeks flush pink as you looked deeply into his pale eyes. You slammed your lips against his, moaning in his mouth.

You both dropped your knives with a loud clatter on the stone floor, desperately wrapping your arms around each other. He lifted you by your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You wanted him. You knew it would be wildly painful but you wanted him regardless. You wrapped your fingers in his hair and yanked, desire was taking over your body. He groaned into your mouth as he felt the dull pain at his skull. He walked with you over to a chair that was in the corner of the room, next to a small table which you promptly shoved over. He sat down with you on his lap.

You hiked up your skirt around your hips as he undid his trousers, just opening the front enough to release his hard cock that was begging to be touched by you. You wrapped your hands around his throat and squeezed mercilessly. His eyes bulged as you slowly slid down on his cock, the pain was intense but you wanted to please him no matter what it took. He groaned loudly when your cunt was around him, squeezing it tightly in your walls. You continued to choke him with one hand, the other hand grabbed a handful of hair at the nape of his neck and you yanked.

His neck was fully exposed to you and you leaned forward to suck and bite the soft skin. He moaned as you rode him with desperation. You moaned with a mixture of intense pain and pleasure as you bounced on his lap, his cock pounding in and out of you. He held onto your skirt, pulling and pushing with your body. You pulled the hand back that was in his hair and you slapped him hard, his skin immediately flushing red where your hand landed. He growled with pleasure as you choked him harder.

You reached behind his waist and pulled one of his knives from his waistband. You pointed it at his neck, barely pressing the tip against his skin. A low moan crept out of his lips as you nicked his collarbone, blood began trickling out. You sliced down his shirt, freeing his pale chest to the air. You began dragging the knife across his chest, leaving scratches and small gashes across his muscular body. He was staring at you with obsessive eyes, obviously loving what you were doing. You finished with a large and somewhat deep cut across his sternum, digging a little deeper than before.

You threw the knife to the ground as you leaned forward, licking up the blood that was trickling down his chest. Your mouth filled with the warm iron and you continued grinding your screaming body against his. He was panting hard, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips spread apart to let the moans escape effortlessly. You knew he was close to his orgasm and you didn't slow down as you slid your tongue into his largest wound before kissing him, your mouth leaking his own blood into his mouth.

His thighs tensed and his breathing caught in his throat as he pulled your skirt, desperate for you to slam down on him harder. You obliged, riding him hard as he came. Your poor body was bleeding too, your cunt sore and abused but you couldn't care. You only wanted to please Ramsay. You rode him through his wave until his cock softened inside you. You slowly lifted yourself, nearly collapsing on his lap once you pulled him out. The pain was excruciating. He held you on his lap as his cum dripped out of you onto his trousers.

You were out of breath as well, and tears finally began to fall down your cheeks. Ramsay smiled as he pulled you close, pressing your chest against his. You could feel his heart beating strongly as he held you. He caught his breath and whispered to you, "You're mine forever, My Lady."

You thought back to a time when those words would have terrified you. You used to be so weak and scared of Ramsay. You almost chuckled at your past self, she had no idea what was ahead of her. You remembered the first time you saw a flayed man from a distance and how it made your stomach churn, threatening your lunch to come back up your throat. You thought about now, the act of flaying someone caused you and Ramsay to bond so deeply and even arouse both of you. You remembered the first time you felt pain at the hands of Ramsay, lying on the pelts in the woods when he revealed his identity to you. You laughed at how foolish and simple you were. Now, pain was just another weapon that you were able to harness to turn into pleasure. You learned so much from your lover, you almost wanted to thank him.

You were confident that nobody else would understand your relationship with Ramsay, the relationship that you battled with in your head for so long. You knew that people would assume that you were evil just like him, and perhaps they were right. All you knew is that you loved Ramsay, and he loved you. It had to be love. It had to be. You were too horrified to think of what it was if it wasn’t love. You swallowed the thoughts and settled with the comfortable words you were able to tell yourself. This was love. It had to be...

The End.

#game of thrones #ramsayboltonsmut #got #smut #ramsey bolton #ramsey snow #ramsay snow #ramsaybolton #ramsay bolton #asoiaf #asoiaf smut #asoiaf one shot #one shot #ramsay bolton x reader #house bolton #house bolton smut #roose bolton #reek #reek asoiaf #theon greyjoy

[allisluv]

COMING CLEAN.

Chapter Two — glitter pens and dart boards

finnick odair x fem!oc

wc: 5.7k

content warnings; finnick odair (that man makes me hyperventilate), unsolicited touching but nothing graphic i promise, oc is forced to sell her body, slight dissociation.

previous chapter — next chapter

"Stop messing with the headpiece!" Bloom chastised, her voice cutting through the crisp evening air as she swatted Dahlia's hand away from the golden flowers weaved through her hair. "It's essential to your outfit darling," she continued fussing. Even with eight-inch heels, she struggled to reach the hairpiece.

If you took the backhanded compliments, ridiculous stilettos and melodramatics out of the equation, Dahlia found Bloom to be quite pleasant. Sure, she was a diva and slightly self-obsessed but by Capitol's standards, she was a gem.

Not to mention that she was absolutely gorgeous. If a siren emerged from the sea, Bloom was precisely what Dahlia would expect to catch a glimpse of.

Porcelain skin that looked as though it would shatter with the smallest of touches. Flaming scarlet ringlets rippled down the length of her back and a sage green dress glided behind her as she skillfully moved about on the lawn. She was crafted by Aphrodite herself, she was sure of it.

"You both look extraordinary," Malaki slid his way into the conversation with ease. Silver gems and jewels adorned his suit and when he shifted his weight from foot to foot, he bore a striking resemblance to a disco ball. Glitter had been dragged down the bridge of his nose and across his eyelids.

Offering both women an arm each, they hooked their hands through the crook of his elbow. Under normal circumstances, Dahlia would have declined his offer, but being in the Capitol always unnerved her. Malaki was almost a comforting presence and right now, she would take that where she could get it.

Malaki worked his way through the crowds as if it was second nature. The presidents' parties had always been a hotspot for the richest and most influential Capitol citizens so, naturally, Dahlia had to be on her best behavior this evening.

Her escort guided her into a banquet hall, where the victors and guests alike would spend the majority of their evening socializing. As much as Dahlia hated to admit it, the place was breathtaking.

Elaborately dressed figures spun on the dance floor, and from the way a number of them staggered about and giggled, she could tell that glasses of alcohol had started being distributed. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling and velvet sofas were scattered wherever there was an inch of free space.

"Come on," Malaki interrupted her train of thought, gently knocking his elbow into hers and leading them towards a group huddled on a sofa. "I've got some people that I need you to meet."

Upon their approach, the men and woman sprung to their feet, planting a kiss on Bloom's rosy cheeks and clapping Malaki on the back.

Dahlia could feel her skin crawling as one of the men leaned in and kissed her cheek, too. She did her best to dazzle him with a smile, tugging on the heavy gold hearts dangling from her ears as they made space on the sofa and gestured for her to sit.

Bloom, thankfully, beat her to it, tossing her ringlets over her shoulders and blinking her winged lashes at the dark-haired man beside her.

A hand slinked its way onto Dahlia's lower back and she fought down the survival impulse that told her to strike first. Memories of the Hunger Games flickered behind her eyelids but once she registered that it was only Malaki trying to provide an ounce of reassurance, the kill-or-be-killed instinct ebbed away.

She forced a smile onto her face and hoped it would make up for her fleeting lapse of sanity.

"Dahlia, my darling, I'd like you to meet some of the Capitol's latest celebrities," Malaki announced, every muscle in his face aching from keeping up his facade. "I don't think you've had the pleasure of meeting our president's current friends," he let go of his victor and pulled up two silk lounge chairs, collapsing into one while Dahlia lowered herself into the other. The sofa broke into quiet protests and he tutted. "Don't go all modest on me now!"

Dahlia met his eyes over the conversation and tried to silently ask what he was getting at. He simply gave a gentle, but terribly clear, nod of his head.

If she hadn't gotten to know him over the years, she may not have thought twice about it. But she did know him and she could read him like a book—— he was trying to boost her Capitol status.

She didn't dare ask why. Not here, with dozens of eyes on her, anyway. His judgement had never led her astray before and hopefully, it wasn't going to fail her now.

"What can I say, I'm a busy woman," she ran a hand through the dark waves of hair framing her face. "To be honest, I admire you all— attending these parties every night and still being able to look as fantastic as you do. I don't know how you manage it."

The two women immediately turned the compliment around, praising how beautiful her dress was, from the ivy working its way down her arms, to the golden fabric of her outfit. Dahlia did her best to return the sentiment, but the women seemed determined to put themselves down and she was not here to boost their egos.

She eventually stopped listening and allowed her escort to carry the conversation on his back. She could read the room well enough to know when to nod or laugh. No one seemed to notice that their words were going in one ear and out the other, anyway.

So long as they believed her act, what they said was merely an inconvenience. Malaki would debrief her in the morning if there was anything he thought was of significance (—she didn't have the best track record when it came to paying attention).

After half an hour of agonizing small talk, Dahlia was desperately scanning the room for an escape route. If she had to spend one more minute pretending to like these narcissists, she would rip her hair right out of her scalp.

Then, as if her guardian angels had sent it right from heaven, she spotted the food tables scattered around the outskirts of the banquet hall. Pulling herself onto her six-inch gold stilettos, she staggered towards her escort, interrupting him with a tap on the back. "I'm going to get food."

She left no room for arguing and Malaki knew better than to stop her. She would do what she wanted with or without his permission. He nodded, turning back to Sparrow, an older man with an olive green wig who kept laughing boisterously and spilling wine down his dress shirt.

She didn't bother excusing herself— she hadn't been too involved in the conversation to begin with, so she didn't think they would notice her slipping out of the vicinity. Still, if Bloom hadn't been locking lips with the dark-haired man, she would have definitely been reprimanded for her lack of manners.

As she passed the velvet sofa that the Capitol people were lounging on, Sparrow slapped her backside, his hand lingering near the slit in her dress. Every single bone in her body tensed, a piercing cold wave of pain shooting up the base of her spine.

The sofa erupted into roars of laughter, all except the dark-haired man and Bloom, who were... well, preoccupied to notice what was happening.

Forcing a tight-lipped smile, she bunched the flimsy material of her dress into her hands and pushed her feet towards the food tables.

No matter how tempting it was to snatch the wine glass out of his hand and shatter it over his head, the consequences would only come back on her siblings.

Don't get her wrong, it would be worth it for the satisfaction alone, but she had lost too much at the hands of President Snow. If it put River and Ivy in harm's way, it was a risk she wasn't willing to take.

Her chest heaved with heavy, blazing breaths; it felt as though she was trapped inside a burning building with no exit in sight. She was swallowing smoke and thick clouds of it were constricting her windpipe. She blindly fought her way through the crowds of Capitol citizens, forcing harsh breaths out of her parted lips as she weaved between couples, muttering apologies as she went.

It was almost a godsend when the musicians struck up a livelier tune, sending flocks of giggling drunks to the dance floor and leaving her with a clear run to the food tables.

Gripping onto the first cream tablecloth in view, she used the back of her hand to wipe beads of sweat off her forehead. She didn't bother paying attention to the foundation that came away with it— if she didn't find a distraction soon, she would snap.

Thankfully, she had come to the right place. As much as she despised the Capitol and everything they stood for, she couldn't fault the food. It was one of the highlights of the evening, after all.

The choices were overwhelming; sushi rolls arranged in bite-sized portions; nachos drizzled in chilli sauce and topped with bacon bits; buckets of shrimp and dozens of different choices of meat.

As for the desserts, they gave a different meaning to heaven altogether; trifles drowning in whipped cream; mountains of profiteroles; apple pies the size of footballs and wedding-sized chocolate cakes.

It made her blood boil when she ate at the Capitol. People in the districts were dying of starvation and here, they drank flasks of champagne that made you sick with the sole purpose of eating more.

Dahlia begrudgingly snatched a paper plate from the stack and began piling food onto it. She hadn't eaten since earlier in the morning, so she pushed away the moral war raging on in her head.

She chose a lemon cupcake and shoved half into her mouth, continuing browsing.

Most of the guests were still absorbed in dancing and it left her with her pick of the litter. She had at least an hour until Malaki or Sparrow realised that she hadn't returned yet. An hour was good enough for her.

Spooning ice cream onto the side of her chocolate cake, a figure materialized out of thin air, standing beside her.

"After all these years, isn't it strange that we haven't managed to have a proper conversation?"

Dahlia resisted the urge to flinch and redirected her attention to the bread rolls across the table. "Well, my luck's gotta run out at some point," she offered sarcastically, stabbing a knife into a piece of cake.

She hoped that the cold shoulder would get him off her trail but after two minutes of silence, where he followed her around the food tables, picking away at the delicacies every so often, it was clear that he did not plan on leaving any time soon.

Tonguing the inside of her cheek, she lifted her gaze to meet his. "What do you want, O'Dair?" she hissed, slamming down the paper plates.

Finnick batted his eyelashes innocently and lifted his shoulders into a shrug. He was the Capitol's darling, adored and wanted by... well, everyone. As far as she was concerned, the only thing she and Finnick had in common was the fact that they were both stuck pleasing Capitol men and women.

In the eight years since she had been crowned victor, they had barely spoken. There'd never been a reason to, so what was with the sudden change of heart?

He knew how to play the game and he knew how to play it well, she'd give him that.

He was charismatic and talked circles around people. The Capitol women fell at his feet and as much as she hated to admit it, he was gorgeous.

He was built like a god, tall and tan, tousled bronze curls falling into his eyes. He was the perfect poster boy, the image of what a victor should be.

Dahlia had never been able to figure him out. She was beginning to think that maybe that was why she was wary of him. She didn't like the unknown and ever since the games, she found it hard to trust people. He was unpredictable, a bit of a wild card so to speak.

People in the Capitol may have been fooled by his charm, but Dahlia wasn't.

He had had eight years to speak to her. She found it highly unlikely that Finnick decided to talk to her on his own accord. Something had to be wrong. He had to have an ulterior motive— she just had to figure out what it was.

"What do you want?" she repeated, holding his gaze. If anyone was going to avert their eyes first, it wasn't going to be her.

Finnick chuckled breezily under his breath, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "Relax, honey. What's the rush, hm?" he arched a brow and reached out to steal a bread roll from her plate.

"Get your own," she slapped his hand away, hugging the plates close to her chest. He pouted dramatically and she rolled her eyes at his childish antics. "And don't call me that," she scowled and set the plates on the table.

She scanned the crowds for any glimpse of Malaki but the people on the dance floor moved too quickly and she soon became dizzy. He was constantly hovering over her and the one time she needed him, he was nowhere to be seen. It was typical!

Finnick chomped on a bread roll, quickly shoving the rest into his mouth when Dahlia turned around and swiped for it, her mouth hanging open. He shot her a smug grin, tilting his head to the side. "Come on, honey, don't be like that," he teased, taking two glasses of white wine from a passing Avox and murmuring his thanks.

Tentatively sipping, he held out the other glass and waited for her to accept his gesture of goodwill.

Dahlia's brows knitted together, distrustful eyes searching for any indication that he was trying to trick her. He didn't miss a beat, his face remaining expressionless, giving her no insight into how his mind worked. With her patience wearing thin, she took the drink from his outstretched hand, fingers closing around the cool glass. She didn't speak, simply fixing him with that same icy, blasé stare.

Finnick downed the rest of his glass, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he cast a cautious glance over his shoulder. "I suppose you've heard the talk in the districts. The Mockingjay and her lover have inspired some..." he paused, closing the gap between them so that she could catch his every word, "...interesting topics of conversation."

"Whatever game you're playing, I'm not interested," she snapped defensively, cutting him off before he had a chance to say anything else. In the districts, speaking about rebellions was punishable by public execution.

She dreaded to think what would happen if they were caught discussing the subject in the President's House, of all places. He knew when to pick his moments, huh?

Finnick might not have had many people left to protect but she did.

She carelessly threw the full glass back onto the food tables and spun on her stilettos to leave. She made it into a hallway until a hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her from going any further.

His grip was firm enough that she couldn't wriggle out of it but gentle enough that it didn't hurt. "Let go or I swear to god, I will slit your throat right here," she warned.

"Killing the Capitol's darling would only put a target on your back, honey," Finnick reasoned, releasing his hold and taking a step back out of her personal space. An apology lingered on his lips but the words got caught in his throat. He wiped his palms into the fish-scaled trousers that hung dangerously low on his hipbones. "I just wanna talk."

She had become somewhat accustomed to arrogance when he spoke, so the odd gentleness in his tone made her head spin. He tugged on a shell necklace falling down his bare torso and, if she hadn't known better, he almost seemed nervous.

"We can't talk. Not here, anyway," she gestured vaguely towards the security cameras and she could almost see the lightbulb appearing over his head. A mischievous twinkle glinted in his eyes and dimples etched their way into the skin of his cheeks.

It was still impossible to get a glimpse into his thoughts, but whatever elaborate plan he was conjuring up, she could tell it was something she wouldn't like.

Without a word of explanation, Finnick made a b-line for a door at the opposite end of the corridor. "Are you coming or not?" He asked, that teasing lilt returning with his confidence.

Dahlia huffed out a sigh, weighing up her options. No matter how insufferable Finnick O'Dair was, following him surely beat spending her time with Sparrow.

Picking up the golden skirt of her dress, she reluctantly traipsed after him. By the time she caught up in her ridiculously high heels, Finnick had pushed the door ajar and was propping it open with his foot. "Ladies first, honey," he mocked, lips quirking into a smile when she glared over her shoulder at the nickname.

The woman's eyes swept across the private study, no doubt searching for intruders lurking in the dark.

He closed the door quietly and the muscles in her shoulders tensed. "You can relax, honey. No offence but you're not exactly my type," he chuckled airily, no maliciousness behind his tone.

"Well, aren't you a charmer?" she scoffed, fingertips skimming along the spines of hardbacks on the bookshelves. For the most part, they were your classic fairy tales with happy endings and bright front covers.

She hadn't exactly expected the President to keep his personal items somewhere with so little security—the study door had been unlocked, for Christ's sake.

"Is there a point to any of this or what?" she asked curiously, browsing through the bookshelves.

"This is the only room that isn't riddled with mics or cameras," Finnick explained, leaning his weight on an oak table. "Which means we're able to talk about rebellions without worrying about anyone eavesdropping," he shuffled in the flimsy shorts his stylist had chosen and pulled a box of sugar cubes from his pocket.

Dahlia opened her mouth to ask how he could be so sure but fell short.

Finnick had been in the Capitol business' for a long time and if a client didn't want to wait to go back to the hotel, she assumed this was where they would come.

It would be insensitive to ask when she already knew the answer, so instead, she opted for the next question that popped into her head. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" She arched a dark brow and smoothed out the creases in her gown. "You could be trying to set me up," she speculated, watching as he threw a sugar cube in the air and caught it between his teeth. Show off.

Finnick lifted his shoulder into a shrug. "I'd be implementing myself," he countered, offering her a sugar cube from the container. She shook her head, unsure why he was acting so nonchalant about this.

"You're the Capitol's darling. Do you think Snow is stupid enough to touch a hair on your pretty little head?" She scoffed, absentmindedly flipping through the pages of a book to keep from meeting his eyes.

He hadn't asked to be adored by the Capitol; she knew that— Finnick hadn't asked to be put in this situation any more than she had. Regardless, a part of her couldn't help resenting him, even if it wasn't fair.

"You think I'm pretty?" he teased and without even having to look, she knew he was smirking like the fucking madman he was. "You're right—although our beloved president would have no problem putting me in my place."

He didn't have to explain what he meant; disobeying the president's orders only ended one way, and that was with someone they loved dead.

Guilt stirred in Dahlia's stomach, and she swallowed it down uncomfortably. It seemed that even the Capitol's favourites didn't get off scot-free. Well, they were off to a great start so far, weren't they?!

"So, what exactly do you want to talk about?" She cleared her throat awkwardly and reached out for another hardback, sliding it from its slot on the shelf. "You know, rebellions and the Mockingjay, you didn't pinpoint anything specific, did you?" She cradled the book in her hands and turned to face him.

"Fair point," Finnick ducked his head with a smile, nodding softly. "Alright. Let me ask you something, honey. Katniss Everdeen and the bakers' boy; do you believe the star-crossed lover's tale?"

Dahlia didn't answer straightaway, mulling over his words. It was a complex one, she supposed.

Katniss Everdeen kept her cards close to her heart and didn't allow an eye to bleed through to what she was thinking. It was almost impossible to tell if her feelings for Peeta Mellark, her district partner and fellow victor of the 74th Hunger Games, were genuine or an act.

Either way, the Capitol citizens ate it up, too tangled in the love affair to question the legitimacy of it.

When Seneca Crane, head game maker, announced that there could be two victors from the same district, only to revoke the rule at the last minute, neither Peeta nor Katniss could bring themselves to kill the other, which was exactly where the poisonous berries came into play.

Before they had a chance to follow through with the double suicide, Seneca Crane delivered the good news.

Somehow, someway, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark had defied all odds and outsmarted the Capitol. For the first time in history, the Hunger Games had two victors.

To say that President Snow was livid would be an understatement; Seneca Crane had met his untimely end, and the star-crossed lovers had no doubt been warned of the consequences if they failed to keep up appearances.

If Dahlia had to bet, she would guess that Snow had tailored his message towards Katniss.

Peeta may not have been the best fighter in the arena but he knew how to sell their story and make it believable. He deserved credit for that, at the very least. It was obvious to anyone with two eyes that his feelings for Katniss were real, regardless of whether they were reciprocated or not.

Katniss on the other hand... well, she wouldn't win any Oscars in the future, put it that way. Every time she was in front of a camera, it looked like she was sucking a sour lemon as opposed to being madly in love.

Their recent engagement had surely been Snow's idea, and if it wasn't, it was still meant to satisfy his peace of mind and distract the districts.

Dahlia couldn't figure out if Katniss was in love with Peeta, but she had a nagging feeling that behind the faux relationship and engagement, there was something there.

"I think they have more important things to worry about. You know, like fanning the embers of a rebellion? I doubt that went down well with our president," she scoffed out a bitter laugh and fired the book onto a black leather sofa.

She had to admit that the thought of their president finally being knocked down a peg was most appealing. It was no surprise that he hated the two victors— they served as a reminder that he and his system could fall just as quickly as it was built.

It's a good thing, she thinks. It tells him that he is not untouchable. That he is just as expendable as the twenty-three children who are sent to the slaughter every year.

Finnick clears his throat and it snaps her back to reality.

"I reckon he throws darts at photos of their faces every night before bed," he snickered, clasping his hands behind his head.

Dahlia laughed, pulling off her stilettos and looping the straps around her wrists. Bloom was probably one of the best stylists in the business but the heels she favoured would surely land her muse in hospital one of these days.

Bunching up the skirt of her dress, she pushed herself onto the opposite end of the table and let the heels fall from her grasp. "I bet he has a journal where he conjures up extravagant ways to kill them off," she smiled, swinging her legs back and forth.

He shot forward, crossing his legs and snapping his fingers in her direction. "Oh my god, he'd use glitter pens and put stars on the most painful ideas," he added, breaking into a laugh halfway through his sentence.

Dahlia let out an indignant snort at the mental image of President Snow in his office, using an array of glitter pens to write in his pretty pink journal.

She looked to Finnick, which may have been a mistake on her part, as it sent them both into a fresh fit of laughter.

When the sound of drunken giggles echoed down the hallway, Dahlia's blood ran cold. All of the giddiness was sucked from her body, leaving her with a chill that cut bone deep.

"Stop for a second," she tightly grabbed his arm, desperately trying to listen over the thrumming of her heart in her ears.

Contrary to popular belief, Finnick wasn't as stupid as he looked. He kept quiet, and he could just about make out the giggling of a drunk couple.

"Someone's coming," he hissed, wide eyes darting about as he hopped off the table.

"What do we do?" she whispered, bare feet making contact with the floor as she scrambled to pick up her heels. Wisps of dark brown hair had escaped from her bun and were falling into her eyes. "Should we hide?"

Finnick pressed his palms into his forehead, willing himself to think of something that would get them out of this situation.

Biting down on his bottom lip, he managed to compose himself long enough to resort back to the one thing he knew. "Do you trust me?" He asked, taking a hesitant step towards her.

"Absolutely not," Dahlia answered without missing a beat. What kind of a question was that? Before today, they had both been perfectly happy to ignore one another's existence! Of course she didn't trust him!

She may have made some questionable decisions in her lifetime, but she wasn't stupid——she didn't trust Finnick O'Dair as far as she could throw him. Shakily taking a step backwards, her hands flew out to steady herself when she hit the desk.

"You have to kiss me." The words tumbled from his lips before he had a chance to stop them and in that moment, he thought Dahlia Holloway was going to kill him with her bare hands.

Instead of clawing at his throat, she scoffed out a laugh, knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping the edges of the table behind her.

"Well, do you have a better idea?" He hissed, digging his dull nails into the skin of his biceps. "We're not exactly friends, are we, honey?" he asked rhetorically now that being hung for treason was becoming a real possibility "So, how are we meant to explain this away?" he gestured wildly between the two of them.

"We snuck off to see each other," she nodded, eyes fluttering shut as she understood what he was implying. The Capitol couple were about to stumble into the study in approximately five minutes.

Either way, they were going to get caught and to the people in the Capitol, keeping their mouths shut was a foreign concept.

It was bound to get back to President Snow; Finnick O'Dair and Dahlia Holloway were found huddled in a study at one of his parties. It wouldn't take long for him to realise that the room in question just so happened to be the only room that wasn't riddled with microphones and cameras.

With the threat of a rebellion looming over his head, he wouldn't take that risk. Their families would be dead by morning— unless they painted him a different narrative.

It was stupid. God, it was so, so stupid. But the clicking of heels was growing closer and what choice did they have? There was no talking their way out of this one, not when Snow was out for blood.

She cradled her head in her hands, digging the pads of her fingers into her temples. She could feel herself losing her grip on what was real and what wasn't as she sunk further into the depths of insanity. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she sighed in exasperation and hopped back onto the desk, legs dangling off the side. "This is all your fault, you know that, right?"

There was no point portioning blame at this point and technically speaking, this was her fault just as much as it was Finnick's. Still, it was becoming almost impossible to string together a rational thought and blaming him was the easier option.

"I didn't hold a knife to your neck and drag you in here, now did I, honey?" He tugged on his curls and shuffled forward in his dress shoes.

It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to strike first. She wondered if anyone's heart had ever ripped its way out of their chest. If not, she was sure she would be the first; her stomach was doing somersaults and not the good kind.

"We might as well bite the bullet if we want to make it believable," she swallowed down the lump in her throat, bright eyes lingering on the doorframe.

He hummed softly in agreement and took one more step forward, keeping his hands to himself until she gave him the green light. "I'm not going to hurt you," he clarified, unable to stand the tension in the air.

She offered him an amused smile but he had a sneaking suspicion that it was an attempt to hide her discomfort. "You'd probably kick my ass, anyway."

Dahlia laughed, feeling the weight around her chest slowly lift. It was still a struggle to breathe but it was a little easier to tell what was real and what wasn't, which was classed as an improvement if you asked her. "Yeah, you've got that one right."

Finnick closed the gap between them, knees slotting between her legs. He hesitated and Dahlia took matters into her own hands, leaning close to him. Their lips met, tentatively at first, and warmth lit her nerve endings on fire.

She hadn't imagined him to be gentle. He was soft, all tender touches and careful caresses. His hands fell to the juncture between her shoulders and neck, smoothing back the dress fabric that got in his way. Her fingers carded through his golden locks, skimming the curls at the nape of his neck.

Both Finnick and Dahlia were so caught up in selling their narrative that they missed the creak of the door. It hit the wall loudly, knocking a potted plant down and scattering dirt across the floor.

A Capitol couple blindly stumbled into the study, gripping the doorframe to keep themselves upright. Neither of the victors pulled away just yet, wanting to make sure that the couple saw them.

"Oh!"

They broke apart as the woman noticed the room was pre-occupied. She clutched a bottle of whisky in one hand, slapping her partner's arm with the other. The man laughed, muttering something about how the mighty had fallen.

"Sorry! We didn't realise there was anyone in here," she giggled, swaying on the spot. "We'll leave you to get back to it!"

She winked, linking arms with her partner as they staggered back into the hallway, no doubt on the prowl for a more private room before broadcasting what they saw to the whole population of Panem.

Dahlia covered her eyes with her hands, forcing deep breaths through her mouth. She completely ignored the fact that Finnick was standing in front of her, probably wondering what the hell was wrong with her. Too much, she would have answered.

Eventually, she choked down the clawing sensation of panic and let herself retreat into autopilot mode. She picked up her discarded heels from the ground, shoving her feet into the ridiculous shoes.

Huffing out a sigh of frustration, she shakily stood to her feet and wrenched the door open.

She disappeared into the hallway without wasting a second and Finnick was hot on her heels, practically running to keep up with her quick strides.

They didn't exchange a word as they made their way to the banquet hall. Finnick scuffed his dress shoes against the tiles and Dahlia glared at him over her shoulder, but that was as far as their friendliness (if you could even call it that) extended.

Dahlia peered through the glass double doors, watching flamboyantly dressed couples prance about the dance floor. Thankfully, it looked like no one had noticed their escape, which meant slipping back into the banquet hall would be a piece of cake.

The adrenaline high was wearing off and it left an anxious feeling in its wake. Reality was burying its way under her skin— and quickly, for that matter. "You're gonna keep quiet about what happened in there, right?" she folded her arms over her chest, her voice lacking its usual venom. She was too exhausted to bother arguing.

"Do you really think those two are gonna keep their mouths shut?" he raised a brow sceptical, confidence and cockiness both returning at full force. "It'll be all over Panem by morning, but I'll keep quiet if it helps you sleep at night," he winked teasingly.

Dahlia scoffed, her narrowed eyes honing in on the ruby lipstick marks on his face. "Red suits you by the way," she smirked, pointing a finger at the smudged colour and slipping back into the banquet hall, trying to swallow down the panic clawing at her chest.

What had she gotten herself into?

#the hunger games #grace talks🐚🌷 #thg #headcanons #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick fluff #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair smut #finnick odair angst #hcs #fanfic #dahlia holloway #coming clean

[dhorrl]

Primal Hunt with the Wind Hashira

Sanemi Shinazugawa/Reader

Content/Trigger Warning: Fingering, rough sex, primal hunt (BDSM), cursing

Happy Birthday to my sweet baby Sanemi (I rushed this fic cause I was determined to get it posted today)

I will be writing a primal hunt with Feitan next, and I’m working on a follow up for Bakugo, the result of him surviving NNN :)

You stirred the pot of simmering rice with a wooden spoon, watching anxiously as it cooked, a shrill whistle and sputtering emanating from the tea kettle on the fire. Heavy footsteps echoed through the house, growing louder and nearer until you felt his presence behind you. He slowly ran his fingers up your spine, sending shivers down your body before he leaned in for a kiss on your neck and whispered, "How fast can you run, little demon?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you took off towards the door, desperate to put as much distance between you and Sanemi before he gave chase. You couldn't believe you had agreed to this twisted game months ago, but it seemed Sanemi hadn't forgotten. His lavender eyes lit up with wicked excitement at the sight of your sudden movement. He flexed his fingers, eager for the hunt that was about to begin.

"Ten," he rasped out coldly, beginning the countdown. He stalked to the doorway and stood ready at the entrance, muscles tensed and ready to pounce after you. The air was thick with anticipation as he waited.

"Nine… Eight…" Your heart pounded faster and faster as you made your way toward the woods. Every rustle of leaves sounded like Sanemi closing in on you. You stumbled over rocks and roots, trying to put as much distance between you and him as possible.

"Seven… Six…" Though he wasn't lost in thought, an air of concentration shrouded him like smoke from a fire. His senses were heightened, every muscle in his body ready to spring into action.

"Five… Four…" Your steps beat against fresh soil and fell onto soft mosses and thick ferns growing up around granite boulders jutting out like grey thumbs from the forest floor. A branch snapped behind you, causing your heart to skip a beat.

"Three… Two…" He grinned, teeth glinting in the sunlight that dappled through the trees. His breaths were calm and even, a predator conserving energy for the inevitable pounce.

"One." Sanemi bolted from the door, his powerful legs carrying him swiftly across the ground. Leaves crunched underfoot as he gave chase, his every sense sharpened and focused on capturing his prey. The chase was on, and Sanemi was a ferocious beast unleashed in the wilderness.

You turned your head to catch a glimpse of him, holding up two fingers in the distance in case you hadn't heard him. You grinned and threw yourself into the wild run, knowing time was short before he'd be on your tail. The thrill of being chased raced through you like electricity, invigorating you from the tips of your toes to the ends of your hair. His powerful strides lead him ever closer as his senses sharpened with every step. His hearing had already picked up the pounding of your heart in his ears; it was music to him—intoxicating and sweet.

Giggles erupted from your mouth as you pushed harder against the terrain, willing your legs faster than ever. Your eyes frantically scanned for an escape route as you felt his gaze burning into you from behind. A hope ignited within you as a clearing came into sight beyond the trees. You took the chance, bursting out into the open without hesitation. With each step, your heels dug into the dirt, pulling you towards safety.

Sanemi roared with a bloodlust that shook the earth beneath his hunt, feet pounding against the forest floor as he raced after you. His eyes gleamed in the darkness, relentless and hungry for the thrill of the chase. "Run, little demon, run! But remember, there's no escape from me!" He began to laugh, each booming voice calling out into the forest with his promise of primal conquest rings in his ears.

Sanemi's predatory instincts came alive with every laugh that trailed behind you, the sound fueling his determination. As he followed, the undergrowth crunched beneath his boots, tracking the erratic path you took with a hunter's precision. Your scent was a beacon, leading him through the thick foliage and darkness of the woods. He thrived in the chase, the raw adrenaline of pursuit coursing through his veins. This was primal, carnal, a game that tapped into the very essence of his being. The Wind Hashira was swift and relentless, closing the distance with every powerful stride while his eyes remained fixated on the sight of your retreating form.

As Sanemi emerged from the trees, he spotted you darting across the clearing. Adrenaline surged through his veins as he picked up speed and lunged forward, snatching hold of you around your waist with a grip of steel. You let out a scream that was more like music to his ears as you thrashed against him, trying to break free, but it was useless; he held you fast in his powerful embrace.

A feral snarl escaped Sanemi's lips as he forced you both down onto the grassy ground of the open field. He placed himself atop you, his broad shoulders blocking out the sun creeping through the trees above. Your cries, made up of a mix of fear and desire, only invigorated him further. Drawing closer to your face, he growled softly into your ear. "You can keep screaming if you like, little demon. I have you now," Sanemi whispered with wicked promise in his voice.

He grabbed your wrists, his calloused hands gripping yours firmly as he pinned them above you. His touch sent sparks of electricity up and down your body, making your skin tingle with anticipation. Your attempts to break free only seemed to excite him further, and his grip tightened as he took control. With a warning nip on your neck, Sanemi felt the wild instinct within awaken at having finally subdued its prey. "You're mine," he growled, the words hot on your skin as he prepared to take what was his.

You growled back defiantly, struggling against his vice-like hold despite knowing it was futile. But Sanemi only laughed; he was drawn in by your fearless spirit, wholly captivated by the push and pull of wills between you two. Every twist and turn of your body seemed to stoke the flames of his desire higher and higher. Sanemi was an unstoppable force of nature and intended to take full advantage of your submission.

His grip tightened just a fraction, securing you further as his body pressed down, the defined muscles of his torso against the softness of your curves. His mouth hovered over your skin, teeth grazing lightly, promising more bites. And then he spoke, a command laced with dark intent.

Sanemi held your wrist firmly in one hand while his other hand slowly traced the curves of your body. His fingertips awakened the desire stirring since you first locked eyes with each other. His breath was hot against your ear as he spoke again, the sound both taunting and enticing. "Keep fighting, little demon," he rasped, his voice a devil's whisper. "It only makes it better when I finally break you." You let out a soft growl before yielding to his touch, embarrassed by your body's automatic response as a blush crept up your cheeks. Sanemi could feel your surrender as his hips pushed into yours, and when his teeth grazed your ear, he knew that you were his to take.

A moan escaped your lips as you lay beneath Sanemi, feeling his hot breath on your skin and trembling under the anticipation of him claiming you. "Don't toy with me," you said weakly, but Sanemi only grinned in response, relishing the blush that bloomed across your cheeks as a sign of surrender.

"You should know by now I never play with my food," he murmured, his voice low and throaty as he pressed firmly against you. "I savor it." His hardened cock was palpable against your body as his hand moved downwards. He could feel the heat radiating from between your legs, a sign that even though your mind may be in denial, your body still craved him. Parting the front of your kimono, he made way for his fingers to slide into your slick folds. "You're dripping for me," he rumbled an edge of dark satisfaction to his voice. "You can fight all you want, but it's clear who you really belong to."

Sanemi's fingers eagerly dove within you with barely contained intensity. His movements were deep and steady, coaxing a chorus of moans from your lips. His kiss was intense, claiming your mouth with ravishing ardor. The time had arrived; the hunter was about to devour his target. Your hips rocked against his hand as he continued to explore your pussy, sending shivers down your spine. This was the endgame of the hunt, the primitive ritual that ended with ultimate claiming. In a blazing surge of passion, Sanemi, the Wind Hashira, was about to consume you, his eagerly awaited prey.

The constant rhythm of Sanemi's fingers drove you to the edge and then over it. Your moans built in volume until you were screaming out his name in pleasure, your legs clamped tight around his hand as if desperate for something more. You felt yourself build towards the climax, becoming lost in sensation as your breathing became more and more ragged.

When the orgasm finally hit, it was like a white-hot shockwave radiating from your core outward. You shattered beneath him, nails digging into the scars on his back as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Sanemi watched you break apart in front of him with a primal satisfaction that bordered on reverence. Tears streamed freely down your cheeks, but instead of being concerned, he found them powerfully arousing, a sign of just how deeply you'd given yourself over to him. His own desire surged as he drank in every shuddering breath of pleasure you took, admiring the beauty of his work as you called out his name again and again.

Sanemi slowly dragged his fingers away from your quivering pussy, and the electric connection between you seemed to linger in the air. His gaze bored into yours with an unapologetic heat burning in his eyes. "You're so fucking beautiful when you fall apart for me," he whispered, his voice deep and thick with desire.

His free hand suddenly released your legs, which had been clamped around him like a vice grip moments before, and he pushed them apart gently to make room for himself between them. He pulled out his thick, eager cock, teasing it against your slick opening with a few shallow thrusts, coating himself in slippery arousal. A guttural groan escaped his lips as your tight heat enveloped the tip of him.

"You want me to claim you?" Sanemi growled, questioning but demanding all at once as he gripped your hips with both hands, holding you still for the imminent plunge. Without waiting for a verbal response, he thrust deep inside you in a powerful stroke, burying himself within you. You gasped at the sudden fullness, and Sanemi let out an animalistic groan as he began to move on top of you, claiming you with each deliberate thrust that was filled with primal intensity.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the clearing. Sanemi's breaths came in ragged gasps as he pounded into you with a savage need that sent sparks through your body. You felt his hard body pressing down on you with an intensity that burned like fire. His hands tangled in your hair as he yanked it back to expose your neck and shoulders, leaving them vulnerable to his kisses and bites. He leaned forward and growled in your ear, He growled in your ear, "You're mine, and I'll fuck you until you can't take anymore, until you're nothing but a whimpering, satisfied mess beneath me," then plowed into you with unfettered strength that lifted your body up from the ground.

"Sanemi! Yes, fuck, Sanemi!" Your whimpering cries rose up into the sky until they were lost in the chorus of animal howls and bird trills. Sanemi's entire being thrummed with savage pleasure as he felt you clinging to him, your nails carving a map of desire across his back. The way you said his name, the possessive grip on his body, it all sent a jolt of pure, animalistic satisfaction through his veins.

"Take it, love, take all of me," he panted, feeling the build-up of his own climax at the base of his spine. His movements became erratic, desperate, as he sought to quench the fires that raged within you both. With a final, raspy groan, his body stiffened, and he released himself inside you, filling you with endless hot ropes of cum.

Collapsing onto you, his body left yours spent and sated. His arms encircled your quivering body as if holding you gently in place against him. His forehead rested lightly against yours as his breath came in deep, labored gasps. With a low growl that vibrated from deep in his chest, he said one word, "Mine…" His lips brushed tenderly against yours before settling into a comfortable kiss that lingered long after the passion had burned away.

You responded to his touch by pressing yourself closer to him. Your fingers traced delicate patterns on the skin of his back and shoulders, soothing him even as the heat of your desire slowly returned. You murmured softly in between each gentle kiss, declaring your love over and over again until his body relaxed completely against yours. "I'm yours… missed you so much… so glad you're home, my love…"

Sanemi savored the sweetness of your kiss, feeling the warmth fill his chest with an unfamiliar contentment. His calloused hands cupped your face as you parted, tracing its features like a holy relic; every scar, bruise, and mark was precious to him. His gaze shifted to meet yours, intense yet filled with a gentle understanding. "I missed you too," he said quietly. "No matter what I face, I fight for you." The wind brushed over you like a blanket as you lay beneath the trees. Sanemi's heart ached with love, the only one who could bring him back down to earth after scaling great heights. He held on tightly to you, knowing that despite all odds, here was where he belonged.

#sanemi smut #kny sanemi #demon slayer #wind hashira #sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer shinazugawa

[jishyucks]

only fools. ‣ hrj

‣ pairing: huang renjun x reader

‣ genre: FLUFF, sorta angsty? idk, co-leads to lovers? is tht even a thing?

‣ wc: 2.2k

‣ summary: Renjun's made one promise to himself ever since the play's production started: I promise not to fall in love with my fellow cast member. But after months of working alongside you, he finds that this promise was something he couldn't keep.

‣ warnings?: sorta sorta cheesyyy?, mentioned that reader's smaller than Renjun, Shrek (loml?jkjk) mention

‣ an: I finally wrote something after having writer's block for ten million years I s2g,,, tht being said I'm not sure if this is the best I can do but I do believe it's really cute ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀) so I hope you enjoy it!

‣ tags: @mosviqu @sleeping-sirens

Dress rehearsals start in a mere thirteen minutes yet Renjun is sitting at the top corner of the football field’s bleachers in hopes that none of his castmates could find him.

He’s disappointed in himself because he’s being unprofessional. He knows damn well that if he did the same thing in the real world, it wouldn’t be accepted. Sure, it’s not acceptable now… the production is set for next week, yet he’s here wondering if he should even show up for rehearsals because of his own damn feelings.

Fuck feelings, he thinks, They’re stupid anyway. 

Renjun kicks the edge of the seat in front of him and watches as the football team finishes up with their warm-up. He’s not sure how long they’ve been running in circles, but judging from how the coach yells for them to finish strong, he could guess it’s been close to fifteen minutes. 

Fuck feelings, Renjun repeats to himself. 

He feels like beating himself up over the very fact that he broke a promise that he made to himself at the beginning of the show’s production. 

I promise not to fall in love with my fellow cast-member.

It was a simple promise that he thought would be easy to fulfill. Renjun was never one to develop feelings easily, which was exactly why he easily forgot the fact that feelings are something you couldn’t plan. Ever.

The reason it even came to existence was because his other castmate and best friend, Jaemin, had pointed out that this production was ‘romantic-full’—whatever that meant in his books—and that he was in some dangerous position of developing feelings for his co-lead. 

He clearly remembers waving off his ridiculous reminders, simply because Renjun’s already been in countless productions and not one of them did he develop feelings for another cast member that could be deemed greater than that of friends. The idea was stupid.

But he made the promise anyway.

Just in case, he told himself. 

Then this brings Renjun to now. With a broken promise dangling right in front of his face and feelings sitting rather irritatingly at the centre of his heart like a bullseye. 

Renjun blames you for it all. For the way his heart beats around your presence, for the way the butterflies erupt at even the slightest touch of your hand, and the way he loses all composure the millisecond you smile his way. 

Renjun doesn’t even know how it even got to this point.

But then again, it’s absurdly clear. The roles you both play, the late nights rehearsing just to get cues right, the impromptu hangouts after rehearsals… his relationship with you has grown over the past few months and he can’t really blame his heart for giving way for you. 

In fact, it would have been much more worrying if he didn’t develop feelings for you. Especially since it was you. He would be a total fool not to fall for someone like you. 

Nonetheless, Renjun’s frustrated over breaking the one and only promise he made for himself because now, after accepting these newfound feelings, he’s practically deathly afraid to face you. If he sees you now, he knows he’s going to make a fool of himself. 

“Okay, bring it in!” The coach’s voice was rather loud despite him being twenty steps below Renjun.  

He sighs and grabs a glimpse of the time. Eight more minutes until rehearsals and it was a good walk across campus just to get to the theatre. 

There’s a feeling in his leg that was itching for him to stand up and go, but he ignores it, instead laying down against the warm metal seat before throwing an arm over his eyes to block them from the sun. 

Renjun bangs his heels against the seat causing the whole bench to shake. He has to shift in his position so he doesn’t fall off. Then he groans and whispers a ‘what am I going to do?’ under his breath. 

Because that was the real question. What is he going to do? He’s unsure whether to wait it out and let the feelings disappear on their own or take his chances with you—if you even reciprocate these feelings. He can’t just avoid you until the entire production is over because he is one of the show’s main leads. Renjun worked hard for this role and he can’t just let the understudy do it all for him because of his feelings for you were getting in the way.

Renjun knows for a fact that actors and actresses have gone through the same thing he’s going through… but how the hell did they manage to get through it? 

He wonders if there was a book or YouTube video of some sort that provided him helpful steps on how to solve the situation in under 10 minutes—but one can only dream. 

Renjun lets white noise overrun his head as he lays in a still position for who knows how long, feeling the breeze move past him gently. It was a cool breeze, but it balances out the sun that was beating down directly onto his skin. 

Peripherally, Renjun can hear the sound of steps against the bleachers, but he quickly dismisses it, immediately assuming it was another student on their way up to isolate themselves like he was. 

But, boy, was he wrong. 

“There you are.”

Renjun’s heart thumps against his rib cage at the sound of your voice and he quickly sits up. “Y/N! What are you doing here?” His vocal pitch is three levels higher than usual, almost giving away the nerves that now have taken over his system. 

How should he even act around you? This shouldn’t even be hard. He’s been around you almost every day for the past few months, and he’s an actor for god’s sake. He can simply fake it ‘til he makes it. 

“And you don’t expect me to ask you the same thing,” you give him a look and wheeze, “You were supposed to be there like half an hour ago, y’know. You should be glad I volunteered to find you because they were going to send Doyoung and you know how scary he gets when he’s mad.” 

When you realize that Renjun wasn’t going to budge anytime soon, you sit next to him with almost no room left between your shoulder and his. You wait for a short moment for Renjun to reply, but you’re only returned with silence and the groaning of sweaty men down at the field, “Are you okay?”

“Of course, I am,” Renjun waves off your concern and stands up, “Let’s get to rehearsal.” He shuffles past you and makes his way down the stairs. Renjun’s quick to reach the bottom, but what he doesn’t know is that you’re close behind. 

“You’re lying,” you say when you finally catch up. It was blunt, but it was because you don’t have a single fibre of doubt in your body. 

Renjun shakes his head, “I’m not lying.” When he notices that you’re catching up, he speeds up just a tad bit to keep you from gaining any sort of eye contact. He’s not even sure why he’s doing this when he knows that he eventually has to make eye contact with you during rehearsal. 

“Yes, you are,” you retort, “Huang Renjun of all people wouldn’t willingly show up to practice late. There’s something wrong and you already know I’m going to try and get it out of you.”

Renjun chooses not to say anything, afraid that he’s accidentally going to give you hints of his dilemma. He focuses on the way his feet taked steps as you both find your way to the theatre. 

“So, what is it?” You start, “Is it homework? Roommate problems? Nerves?… No, it can’t be nerves…” You’re practically skipping to keep his pace. He can hear you rambling beneath your breath and he lets you be, refusing to give in too easily.

When you’re returned with silence for the nth time, you switch gears and let out a loud, rather deep, sigh. “Renjun, I’m being serious right now. I know something’s wrong. And it’s not because you’re showing up late to practice on purpose, but it’s because you can’t even look me in the eye.” 

“We’re going to be late,” he mumbles. Renjun’s walking so fast that he’s almost jogging. 

“Oh, c’mon, as if we’re not already late,” you roll your eyes and reach for Renjun’s wrist, forcing the both of you to stop in your tracks, “We’re not going until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“I told you,” Renjun repeats, “There’s nothing wrong. Now, let’s go.”

Renjun attempts to wiggle out of your grasp but you simply just tug on his arm to reinforce it, “And I told you that we’re not going until you answer my question. What’s wrong?” You sigh, “Renjun if you don’t tell me now, my head’s going to be preoccupied during rehearsal. Do this for you and for me.” 

Renjun’s stuck. He’s not sure whether to tell you now, lie now and tell you later, or simply just not tell you (hard stop). All these options have one possible outcome in common and it was how he would possibly regret it all. 

“If you’re trying to decide whether you should tell me or not, I vote for the first option,” you say. Renjun hates how you can read him like a book—well, except for his feelings for you. If you could, then this entire situation would have been easier to handle. 

Renjun searches the empty hallway as if there would be an answer written bright and clear on the walls. He’s stuck and he needs to act quick. He doesn’t have all the time in the world anymore. 

Then, his eyes land on your hand still holding onto his wrist. 

Swiftly, Renjun slides his wrist down towards him. But instead of taking his arm back, he makes the impulsive action of intertwining his fingers with yours, holding your hand as if it were made of glass. 

“What’s wrong is that I can only do this,” Renjun gulps nervously. He hasn’t made the effort to look at your reaction just yet, eyes trained on his hand holding yours. He’s slightly relieved that you haven’t pulled your hand back. But then again it could just be you in shock. 

He gains the confidence to hold your smaller hand tighter before tugging you towards him. The two of you are practically chest to chest, so close that if Renjun simply leaned down, he could plant a kiss on your forehead. “This.” 

Renjun’s heart is pounding right against his chest and he knows you can hear it. But he continues and brings his forehead down to graze your own, “And… this.”

Renjun pulls away and it’s like all of his confidence is sucked out of him, “…as stupid characters in that stupid play while I’m here wishing that it could be more!” A brief silence lingers between the two of you before he turns to leave, but you’re quick to yank him back by the elbow. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your brows furrow. Although it may come off as you being completely lost, you truly weren’t. You just wanted clarification and words that will confirm what you think Renjun is meaning to say. 

A huff leaves Renjun’s lips and he searches the walls once again. He can’t repeat the same things he’s already done, so now he needs to resort to words. 

“Y/N, we’re co-leads in a romance story!” There’s a hint of frustration in Renjun’s voice and at that point you can tell that this has truly been bothering him, “We practiced our lines together, hung out after, hell, I’ve learned the weirdest facts about you—that you open chip bags from the bottom because that’s where all the flavour is, how you take pictures of green onions in soup that look like hearts, that you’ve watched the second Shrek movie a bajillion times just to watch the fight scene at the end… Y/N, everyday for the past few months I was practically handed the opportunity to fall for you… and I would be a fool to not fall for you.”

Renjun lets his head fall forward and his bangs flop over his eyes, “I was planning on waiting until after the final show to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin the hard work that everyone’s put into the production just cause of my feelings… but I guess my feelings won.”

He waits for you to reply, bracing himself for the worst ever possible reaction from you. Renjun’s already imagining a rejection—a gentle one, of course—but when he sees your hand reach out for his own, he feels a pang of hope sitting deep in his chest.

Renjun feels you hold his hand tight, squeezing it before using it to draw him towards you. He lets himself stumble forward before planting his feet right in front of yours. Your toes are almost touching, so you shuffle forward so that they are. With this gesture, Renjun finally allows himself to make eye contact with you. 

There’s a sense of relief when he catches a proper sight of your face, a soft smile sitting upon your lips. And when you finally see that Renjun’s looking back at you, your smile grows ten times larger. 

“Well, then I guess I’d also be a fool if I hadn’t fallen for you, either.”

#Im sorry if this was messy I just wanted to write something to get rid of my writer's block #It was basically just me writing wahtever came to mind #nct #nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #huang renjun #renjun #huang renjun imagines #renjun imagines #huang renjun scenarios #renjun scenarios #nct dream blurbs #nct blurbs #renjun blurbs #huang renjun blurbs #nct renjun #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #renjun fluff #huang renjun fluff #my writings #my nct writings #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop blurbs

[sailor-aviator]

Tom and Jake's Relationship

Story: The Dagger Posse Universe

Word Count: 2k (oops)

TW: Mentions of death, Mentions of illness, Mentions of pandemic, Mentions of funerals, Mentions of burials, References to prostitution, Mentions of hanging, Starvation. Think that's it.

A/N: Been sitting on this one for a while. I wanted to show the kind of relationship that Jake and Ice have, and I sure hope I was able to give you even the slightest glimpse into how much they care about one another. Please enjoy!

The epidemic that swept the small town of Maverick was as quick as it was devastating. It slaughtered several of the different townsfolk, and left several with no family left. Tom had been there to comfort Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and a small Bradley Bradshaw when Nick and Carole had been lowered into the cold, dark earth of the desert. Bradley had been so young, and he had clung to Maverick's leg, hiding his face away. Tom wasn't sure if it was to keep from seeing his parents like that or to keep his parents from seeing him like that.

They had been good, kind people. Goose was well liked by most and Carole was well liked by all. Both always having smiles for whoever had the fortune of encountering them. And they had been fighters, holding out until they couldn't find the strength to draw another breath.

Tom had been walking aimlessly down the streets of Maverick after their funeral, searching for what, he didn't know at the time. The day had been cold and eerily calm, like the desert mourned with the sheriff too. The image of young Bradley clinging to Maverick's leg as he tried so hard to keep a brave face replayed in his head. The only time he cracked was when the men began to lower the coffins into the graves below, and the boy had shed a single tear and let out a solitary sob.

Tom's heart broke for the son of his friends, but he knew that Penny and Mav would take good care of him. Still, it wasn't easy to lose your parents, especially at such a young age.

He rounded a corner near the edge of town, stopping short at the solitary figure that sat huddled on the foot of the stairs leading up to the back of the butcher's shop. Mossy, green eyes popped up to look at him, and Tom was taken aback by how gaunt the poor boy looked.

"Jake," he nodded, looking him over. There were dark circles under his eyes, skin pale and he definitely looked thinner than the last time the older man had seen him.

"Sheriff," the blond nodded back, voice barely audible as he slumped back in on himself. Tom felt a pang run through his heart at how tired he sounded. A boy of eight years shouldn't be sounding like that.

"What are you doing, Jake?"

"Sarah didn't make enough to feed us again," the boy whispered, eyes closed in defeat. "I always tell her that I found food somewhere else so she gets enough to eat without worryin' about me. Sometimes the butcher will give me scraps that I can cook."

"How long has this been going on?"

He shrugged. "Since Ma an' Da' died."

Tom's stomach lurched. A couple of weeks then. The sheriff knew he couldn't go on like this. He knew that Sarah was doing her best to provide for her and her brother, but there was only so much a girl of fourteen could do unless she chose to sell herself. Tom wasn't going to let that happen. He owed it to their parents to take care of the two.

"Come with me, Jake," he murmured, causing the boy to look up at him in confusion.

"What?" He frowned, stumbling to a stand. "Why?"

"We're going to go see Penny about a meal."

"I can't afford that, Mr. Ice," Jake exclaimed, despair in his eyes. Tom shook his head, placing a gentle hand on his shoulders to guide him back into town.

"Don't you worry about that. I'll get you sorted out."

And Tom had seen to it that Jake ate regularly, cooking him meals and sending him home with leftovers as often as he could. He had even taught him to hunt, and the boy was a halfway decent shot when he wanted to be.

Soon, Jake was old enough to work, and Tom made sure the boy was being paid fair wages, working odd jobs to earn enough to support him and his sister.

"You're not workin' too hard, are you, Jake?" He asked the young man one day. Jake had looked at him with a tired smile, rubbing at his eyes as he answered.

"No, Tom," he sighed. "I'm not working too hard. Just earning my living."

Tom had hummed, but made sure to slip a couple of extra dollars into the boy's pouch when he wasn't looking. Winter was coming up, and he knew Jake was in need of a new pair of boots. It had been too long since he bought the last pair, and it would do him no good to run around without proper footwear. Now that he thought about it, it wouldn't hurt to give him a couple more dollars for new clothes, so into the pouch it went.

Tom couldn't help the smile that grew on his face at the sight of Jake in his new trousers and boots two weeks later.

"What are you grinnin' about?" Jake had asked him, brow furrowed in curiosity. Tom just shook his head and chuckled.

"Don't you mind now."

Tom knew that Jake's heart was in the right place, but he could have done without the extra grey hairs.

"Bradley's problems are his own," he had groused to the blond. "You shouldn't go gettin' into trouble for someone who's fighting their own demons, son."

"Bradley is my friend, Ice," Jake had sighed, sipping on his beer at the bar. "I'm not leaving a friend to walk through hell alone."

Tom felt a twinge of pride. Jake had grown into a fine young man. Loyal, strong, kind, and clever. All things a man should be, Tom supposed, but Jake's loyalty was a double edged sword at best.

"I'm not going to be able to bail you out of these predicaments for forever, you know," he had grumbled, sipping on his own beer. Jake huffed out a laugh, patting the older man on the shoulder.

"I don't expect you to," he grinned, shooting him a wink. "One day I'll have enough money where I won't need to do this anymore. Maybe I'll even build you a fancy new house while I'm at it."

"Every single one of these grey hairs is because of you, you know," Tom scowled, shoving the younger man lightly.

"I think they make you look distinguished."

"Smartass."

Now this was something Tom hadn't expected. Of course, he knew that Jake had his fair share of flings with the women in town, but he had never seen the boy so transfixed before. And it appeared the young lady had taken an interest back in him, though the more he observed the two, the more he wasn't sure she knew the extent of her feelings.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you son?" He had remarked to Jake one day after the young lady had left him standing in the middle of the street. Jake squared his shoulders back, and despite his grin, Tom saw a look of quiet determination in his green eyes.

"I'm going to marry that girl one day, Tom," he had declared.

"Pretty sure she has to like you first."

"I'll get her to like me," the blond shot back. And for a moment, Tom was taken aback. In Jake's eyes was a mixture of two things the older man wasn't sure he had ever seen before: nervousness and longing.

"Give it time," Tom cautioned, squeezing Jake's shoulder. "A girl like that needs to be earned, not won."

It was now or never. Tom had convinced the marshal to go and get a drink to ease some of his tension, and now was the only chance he would get to free Jake. Tom was never going to let the boy hang, he couldn't let it happen. He knew there would be grave consequences for himself for letting Jake go free, but he wasn't about to let him down. While Bradley had always had Maverick, Jake had always had Tom. Tom wouldn't let the only son he had ever known leave this world by the end of a rope.

He stopped as the front door creaked open to reveal you, a bedraggled wreck as you stared at him. Now this was a surprise. Tom was sure that you wouldn't show up, after all it was late and you were a lady if nothing else.

“You shouldn’t be here, darlin’,” he drawled, placing his feet on the floor. “This ain’t no place for a lady such as yourself.”

“Where is he?” You asked him, stepping into the room and quickly closing the door behind you. Tom heard Jake call out, and as you moved towards the back room, he stopped you.

“Are you sure you’re ready to see him like this?” He asked you quietly, lips pressing into a thin line as he continued to study you. You stared at him with fire in your eyes, a fire that had Tom's mind blazing in curiosity. What a tough little thing you were.

“Please,” you murmured, your eyes never wavering. “Please let me see him.”

Tom stared at you for a moment longer before glancing at the door. Any chance of getting Jake out now was gone the second you stepped foot through the door. He would have to come up with another plan, but for now, the least he could do is let the two of you see each other.

“You have five minutes, Scout.”

Tom was still thinking about the way your eyes had sparkled as you saw the wanted poster for Isaac Cassidy. He could practically see the cogs in your head turning as you played the part of the damsel in distress for Beau, but Tom could see now that you were no fool. No, you were more than capable, and he supposed that you had come up with a plan of your own.

"That girl of yours sure is something," he had mused to Jake, watching the blue light of the morning filter into the jail.

"You have no idea," the young man croaked back. "I love her, Tom."

"I know."

"I don't want her to see my hang."

Tom paused at that. He had already come up with a contingency plan, but a feeling inside of him told him that you were hard at work making preparations for your own handiwork.

"Somehow," Tom drawled, "I don't think she will."

There was a moment of silence between the two of them.

"I'm sorry, Tom."

"What the hell are you sorry for?" Tom rolled his eyes, earning a sigh.

"I'm sorry for how things ended up. You always warned me to stay out of trouble, and now here we are."

"Yeah, well," Tom sniffed, pushing out of his chair and heading for the door. He had to speak with Maverick before time was up. "Maybe you'll listen to me once you get out of here."

And with that, he walked through the door.

Tom watched as Jake led you down the road, the crowd crowing eagerly behind him. He had to hand it to you, you were a cunning, ruthless lady. Not many people could have pulled off what you did, and Tom could count you as one of the few people in this world that left him impressed.

He supposed that Jake would try to stay out of trouble moving forward, but trouble had always had a knack for finding Jake if nothing else. Tom let out a sigh as he watched the young man place a gentle kiss to your forehead, squeezing you tightly as you continued to walk towards your home.

"You comin'?" Bradley asked him, an impassive look on his face. Tom nodded, turning to start making his way through the crowd. He wasn't one to take delight in death, but he was certainly one to make sure that no harm came to the people he cared about. Isaac Cassidy would die today in place of Jake Seresin. Tom would rest easy knowing that the boy he raised would stay safe for another day.

#dhtn #don't hang'em til noon #drabble #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #hangman imagine #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #hangman seresin x reader #hangman seresin x you #hangman seresin #dgu #dagger gang universe

[aperrywilliams]

Milburn (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(My gif, actually)

Author Masterlist

------------------

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Spencer and Reader’s married life is not going so well lately. After Spencer’s months in jail, things have gotten rocky between them. So much so that they even make a decision they could regret forever.

Word Count: 7,6k

Warnings: Heavy discussions; strong language; divorce is mentioned; GSW mentioned, blood and hospital stuff are mentioned; let me know if I forget something. Angst with a hopeful ending.

A/N: I wrote this one for Foxy’s Milestone Writing Challenge (@foxy-eva). Congratulations, my friend! You are a fantastic writer and person! I used the prompt, “We can make it through this. I’m not leaving your side.”

I did this one based on this request too! Thanks for reading, and keep sending me requests!

Do you want to be added to the taglist? Go HERE

------------------

“Why are you saying that? I don’t know what you are talking about!” Spencer stood from the couch, facing (Y/N) and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t you? I thought you were a genius,” she mocked, waving her hand.

“Not need to be sarcastic,” Spencer huffed. “And keep your voice hush; Evie could wake up.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow and scoffed.

“Are now you worried about our daughter’s sleep? You have been arguing with me for solid forty-five minutes,” she growled, dropping her hands to her sides. (Y/N) started to feel the fatigue of being arguing with Spencer.

“Forty-eight minutes and twenty-two seconds,” Spencer corrected, checking his watch. “And you started this fight; it wasn’t me,” he defended, starting to pace in the room.

“God, Spencer. You are so infuriating. Can you stop pacing? It doesn’t help my nerves,” (Y/N) scolded, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I am the infuriating one? You’re one to talk,” he sneered, a glimpse of annoyance in his eyes as he stood in front of her again, grasping the nearest chair’s backrest tightly.

“Yeah. You are. And sometimes, I think you do it on purpose,” (Y/N) accused, clutching her tea mug in her hands.

“What? Do you mean that I want to annoy you on purpose? Come on, (Y/N). Why would I do that?” Spencer jeered.

“How the hell would I know?! But we fought like this every time I tried to talk to you. And I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“Then don’t do it.”

“Fuck, Spencer. Could you admit at least that you have responsibility for this too?”

“It’s my fault you can’t control the urge to argue with me?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. This wasn’t leading anywhere, and Spencer didn’t seem like the one to back down this time.

“We can’t communicate this way, Spencer. Just we can’t,” she cried in defeat, pressing her palms over her eyes.

Spencer kept his place in front of her, but he didn’t say anything. That made (Y/N) angrier.

“You know what? I’m done with this shit. I’m fucking tired, and it’s not fair,” she let out, standing from her spot on the couch.

Spencer narrowed his eyes.

“What it suppose that means?”

“Exactly what I said. I think...” (Y/N) started to talk, but she stopped. A sense of fear ran down her spine for what she wanted to say.

“You think what?!” Spencer urged.

(Y/N) shut her eyes and let out a deep sigh to soothe her breathing. Then she looked directly at Spencer.

“I think that if we can’t stand each other... we should divorce.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. This wasn’t the first rough argument he had with his wife in the past months, but no one mentioned divorce until now.

“What? Are you fucking kidding me right now?” He asked in disbelief.

“No. I’m not. I’m very serious, Spencer. Can’t you see it? These past months have been torture for both of us. We can’t talk, we can’t stay in the same room without arguing. Are not you exhausted?” (Y/N)’s voice trembled with emotion, recalling the past months. Tears threatened to escape.

“So because you’re exhausted, we should divorce. What a solution, (Y/N),” he mocked. Spencer didn’t think she was talking seriously about that; he thought she must be trying to scare him.

“Who is being the sarcastic one now, uh?” She scoffed.

“I can’t believe you are truly considerating it as an option.”

“What should we do then? Which is the solution for us, Spencer? I mean it. Tell me the best way to solve this, and I’ll take it.”

Spencer didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure about how to repair their damaged relationship.

‘What the hell happened in the past months?’ he asked himself. ‘Had they stopped loving each other just like that?’

Seeing that Spencer was speechless, (Y/N) let out a deep sigh. This exactly proved her point.

He was about to say something when his phone went off. (Y/N) looked at him thinking if he would answer.

Immediately she scolded herself: obviously, he would take the call. It was naive even to think the opposite.

“Reid,” he answered, gaze still focused on (Y/N).

She had a garbled expression—a mix of annoyance and disappointment.

“Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Hanging up, he shoved his phone into his pocket. Still staring at her, Spencer knew he must have said something. He couldn’t leave like this. Could he?

But words failed him. Again.

“I know,” she mumbled before he could speak, grabbing her mug and heading to their bedroom. She didn’t need the words right now.

In complete silence, Spencer took his go-bag and left the apartment. He thought it was better this way than to say something he could regret later.

(Y/N) knew how it worked. Her life with Spencer took this path months ago. Whether they were talking about something important, having a family dinner, watching a movie, or having sex, Spencer leaves right after receiving the call.

It’s not that she didn’t know what she signed for when she married him, but the lack of communication had been taking a toll on them. Most of the time, when Spencer was away in cases, she didn’t hear a word from him. He didn’t talk to her at home either, choosing to spend the little time he had at home with their five-year-old daughter, Evelyn.

Their sweet Evie. (Y/N) believed that Spencer only tolerated her because of Evie. She was the only one who could make Spencer genuinely smile these days. How could she not? Evie is the sweetest and most intelligent little girl in the world. And she adores her dad. The bond between them settled the day she was born and never has dimmed—no matter the days or weeks away or the unholy hours when Spencer comes or leaves home, Evelyn loves her dad. Spencer is her hero.

(Y/N) never would say Spencer is a bad father, quite the opposite.

But as a husband, things were pretty different.

Not always have been like this, though.

-

(Y/N) and Spencer met nine years ago.

(Y/N) worked as a college teacher and researcher in Georgetown and decided to partake as a speaker at a conference hosted by the Social Science Faculty that year.

As a computer scientist with a Sociology Ph.D., her research topic was deviant social behavior in the online environment.

It turned out that Spencer attended the same conference as a guest speaker in Psychology. He checked the presentation’s schedule and found himself in (Y/N)’s talk because he was very interested in the topic.

But once he saw her speak, it wasn’t just the topic that interested him.

At the end of her presentation, he approached (Y/N) to congratulate her and ask some questions. She was pleasantly surprised to see his enthusiasm.

At the end of the conference, they exchanged numbers, and some days after, they met to grab a coffee.

Little cute dates led to a beautiful relationship.

Both were head over heels for each other.

They dated two years until Spencer proposed during a romantic dinner celebrating their anniversary.

They married six months later, and one year after that, Evelyn was born.

Since the beginning, they have been very respectful of each other jobs. (Y/N) She knew Spencer’s life had been the BAU for almost twelve years, and even though she sometimes knew it turned into a dangerous job, she trusted him and his promise to stay safe and return to her.

On the other hand, (Y/N) loved her job at Georgetown, and being a college teacher brought her satisfaction and the sense of doing something worthy.

Their dynamic worked perfectly fine until Spencer went to jail a year ago after being falsely accused of murder.

Spencer’s three months at Millburn Correctional Facility hit the Reids hard. Spencer tried to stay mentally sane in a horrible place while (Y/N) looked for ways to help and support her husband, raising a 4-year-old girl.

Once Spencer was released, things turned awkward between them.

Spencer felt out of place and started to have recurring nightmares he didn’t want to share with (Y/N). Spencer thought that focusing on work might make the demons go away faster. But that only brought distance between them. Spencer stopped talking to his wife about what was happening to him, and despite (Y/N)’s attempts to make him feel comfortable trusting her, Spencer didn’t change his attitude.

Then the arguments started. At first, they were sporadic, and Spencer or (Y/N) could back off quickly to end the fight. But after a couple of months, the arguments increased in number and heaviness. It could be a significant issue like Spencer’s working schedule or little things like Evie’s toys scattered on the floor.

(Y/N) understood that Spencer could be facing a hard time, but after these months, things only worsened. And she didn’t know what to do.

She voiced the ‘divorce’ option, but it wasn’t the outcome (Y/N) wanted. She loves Spencer and still believes there is a way to make it work, but if Spencer can’t realize the rough patch in which they are, things will not change.

-

Spencer kept thinking about the last argument with (Y/N). In the jet heading to Louisiana, he barely paid attention to the case review. JJ noticed and approached when everyone was in their own business before touching down.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Everything is fine,” Spencer mumbled.

“Spencer, your body might be here, but your mind doesn’t. Can I help?” JJ insisted. She knew her friend very well to know he was deflecting.

“It’s uh - I fought with (Y/N) before I got called. I mean, we were on that when I got called.”

JJ gave him an apologetic look.

“Oh. I’m sorry. But I’m sure you can talk about that when you come back.”

Spencer shook his head.

“I don’t know, JJ. This time it felt different, you know?” JJ raised an eyebrow.

Spencer’s words sounded painful and a bit scary.

“Different like what?”

“As if everything between us is lost,” he worded. JJ rested her hand over his knee.

“Hey! Don’t say that. You love each other, and you love Evie. You’ll figure it out,” she tried to reassure him. Spencer only gave her a tight smile.

-

During the days Spencer was out, (Y/N) put her energy on her job and Evie. She didn’t want to think about what would happen when he returned. Could it be a denial state? Maybe. But (Y/N) wanted to fix things with her husband. But things tend to happen oppositely sometimes. This was one of those times.

Five days took the team to wrap up the Louisiana case. Exhausted, Spencer stepped into the apartment. It was around noon.

He didn’t expect that someone would be there. Evie should have been in school and (Y/N) in college. When he saw (Y/N) on the couch grading papers, he stopped in his tracks.

During the flight, he tried to think of some way to talk to (Y/N), but he was so tired and frustrated that he fell asleep.

Now he was standing there without knowing what to say.

“Hey,” (Y/N) greeted him. “I didn’t know you were coming home today,” she pointed. A subtle way to say he didn’t text her or call her. Not that (Y/N) was surprised, though.

“Uh. Yeah. I didn’t know you were here. I thought you were in classes or something,” Spencer admitted, putting down his go-bag and peeling off his coat.

“I - I don’t have to go to campus on Thursdays. Uh, it has been like this for a time. Three months to be exact,” she pointed with a sad voice. He had forgotten her schedule.

Spencer-’eidetic memory’-Reid forgot his wife’s work schedule.

“Right. Eh, well. I’m going to take a shower.”

And like that, he moved quickly to the main bedroom.

God, (Y/N) wanted so bad that Spencer could say anything to make it up for the past days. A lame I’m sorry would have been enough for her.

Anger rose in (Y/N). It was unfair, and she felt ignored by the man she loved the most. She followed him to the bedroom, storming in.

“Spencer, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Spencer turned to see her on the threshold, hands in her hips, eyes burning holes in him.

“Nothing,” he replied calmly, turning to resume his task of selecting clothes from the dresser.

“You can’t be serious. We were arguing when you left five days ago, and now you don’t have anything to say?”

Spencer huffed. He didn’t want to have this conversation right now.

“Are you insisting on that? Please (Y/N), give me a break.”

“I just want to understand. I need to make sense of why things are like this. What happened, Spencer?” (Y/N) asked, softening her voice to convince her husband to talk to her.

Spencer shook his head. No, he didn’t want to say anything.

Spencer wanted to run away and be left alone. He was so tired of people asking him why he wasn’t okay.

“You know what happened! And you know that I don’t want to talk about that!” He spat. (Y/N) dared to take a step forward. She needed him to talk, to say what was really bothering him. Since Milburn, Spencer never wanted to speak to her about what happened there.

“I understand that it was a nightmare for you. And I can’t imagine how hard it was for you to survive there. But you need to move on, love. Please, let me help. We can do this as a team...”

(Y/N) tried to reach his arm—a way to convey that she was there for him, but he didn’t let her.

Spencer’s eyes filled with anger.

Move on? How does she dare to say that?

“Don’t!” He yanked his arms from her grip. “You don’t know anything! You dare tell me to move on; you weren’t locked there!”

“I know I – I wasn’t, but...” (Y/N) stuttered.

“But nothing! I thought you were different. But you only think about yourself. You don’t care about me!” Spencer yelled, throwing the clothes he had in his hand to the floor. (Y/N) took a step back, startled at her husband’s outburst.

“You are being unfair, Spencer. That’s not true, and you know it.”

Spencer breathed a laugh.

“Unfair? I’ll tell you what it’s unfair: to bear with you knowing you are the half of the person I fell in love with. That’s unfair!”

(Y/N) could swear that of all the times they’d argued, it was the first time she’d seen him so upset. She knew that Spencer could be very hurtful with his words, but this had reached a new level in their relationship.

“What? What is supposed that mean?”

“It means that this marriage is over! Are you tired of this? Well, me too. So let’s end it! I’m done!”

“Spencer, you are angry, and I get it, but...”

“Oh hell, I’m angry. Angry and fed up. It’s over (Y/N). I’m leaving. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“No! I - I - of course not!”

“Well, too late. You should have thought of that earlier. It’s over now. I hope we can agree on something so Evie won’t be affected by this.”

Spencer’s voice was so cold now. It was like he didn’t feel anything. Like he wasn’t affected by the weight of his words. (Y/N) was so shocked that she couldn’t say anything, just letting the tears run down her cheeks.

“I can pick her up from school today if you can’t,” he offered.

That brought (Y/N) out of her stupor.

“Don’t bother. Just – just leave!” (Y/N) yelled, heading to the bathroom. She couldn’t stay in front of that man she didn’t recognize any longer.

-

Spencer thought that loneliness would help him to reach the calm he needed. But he was wrong. So wrong.

A week passed since he left the apartment he shared with (Y/N), and an intense ache settled in his heart.

After (Y/N) told him to leave, and he did so, regret came quickly. He reacted in the worst way imaginable. He hurt (Y/N) with his words, and now she hated him.

Spencer - encouraged by Luke, who gave shelter to the resident genius in his house – tried to call (Y/N) the next day, but she didn’t answer.

In the days that followed, Spencer Reid started to feel the actual consequences of his actions.

The distance, the coldness, and the fights were issues, but he had responsibility for that, and he didn’t admit it in time.

Spencer himself pushed (Y/N) away. Not because he stopped loving her. He did it for his inability to talk about his inner struggles.

Showing vulnerability wasn’t an option after what happened in Milburn. No, he should have been strong enough for his wife and daughter.

But reality showed that he failed when he thought it was better to keep that trauma to himself.

Now Spencer had made a big mistake and didn’t know how to fix it.

The times he tried to talk to (Y/N), she made her sister Sara answer the phone. If he needed to coordinate picking up Evie or something related, Sara spoke to him.

Spencer thought that maybe after some days (Y/N) would agree to talk to him again, but days became weeks, and there wasn’t any change.

The phone calls with Sara turned into a chance to beg her to pass the phone to her sister. The visits to the apartment ended similarly. Spencer couldn’t speak to (Y/N).

Once he picked up Evie from school, the little girl asked him why he wasn’t sleeping in their home. Spencer hated lying to his daughter, but things were complicated.

The worst part was he started to think that maybe it was the best for (Y/N) if he stayed out of her life. He did too much damage to her already. Perhaps with time, she could find someone who genuinely deserves her and can make her happy.

He would have to keep satisfied with the chance of staying in his daughter’s life. So he stopped trying. No more phone calls, no more attempts to see her.

Their friends were shocked when they noticed that neither (Y/N) nor Spencer had been doing something to fix things. JJ was one of the most concerned. She grew fond of (Y/N) quickly after knowing her, and she witnessed how much she endured when Spencer was in Milburn.

A bunch of times, she tried to talk to them, but Spencer was determined to let (Y/N) go, and (Y/N) was convinced that Spencer didn’t love her anymore. That’s why (Y/N) didn’t talk to Spencer.

The day he left, (Y/N) felt how her world crumbled, and any hope she could have died at that moment.

When he called the next day, and the following days, she expected it was to humiliate her again, and she hadn’t the strength to resist it. Even if he thought to apologize, she wouldn’t have believed him, not after what he did.

-

A whole two months passed.

Spencer and (Y/N) decided to start the divorce papers.

They could talk by phone and in person but only related to Evie and how they would arrange the divorce. Evie was the top priority, so they agreed to have a civilian relationship and provide all their daughter could need.

They told her that daddy was no longer living with her and mommy, but that didn’t mean that daddy wouldn’t be there for her.

The child’s confusion pained them, but both (Y/N) and Spencer thought it was better than having two parents at home fighting all the time.

Despite the facade of civilian adults they had in front of each other and people, tears made their appearance every time they were alone in bed at night.

In moments like those, the open wound in their hearts bled the most.

(Y/N) silently sobbed. She still loved Spencer. How could she not? She would have given anything to hold him. To support him. To help him in his healing process. But if he didn’t want her by his side, there was nothing more that she could do, and she won’t beg him for something that didn’t exist anymore.

Spencer punished himself by repeatedly repeating that (Y/N) is better without him. He’s a damaged good and not worthy of (Y/N)’s love.

He even took off his wedding band to convince himself there was no way back.

Now work was a welcoming distraction for Spencer. Even the load of paperwork on his desk that Wednesday. With coffee in hand, he barely stood from his desk. Head down in the last case files until his phone went off.

Spencer answered, not looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Dr. Reid. I’m Malory Hudson from Evelyn’s school.”

“Oh, good afternoon, Miss Hudson. What can I do for you?”

“I’m wondering if you were who has to pick up Evie today. Ms. Reid hasn’t shown, and I called her several times without success.”

Spencer frowned. They agreed that (Y/N) had to pick up Evie on Wednesday, and (Y/N) always did it.

“Uh, no. But I’m coming now. Thanks for letting me know.”

“It’s no problem.”

Spencer called (Y/N), but the voicemail jumped immediately. That was odd; she never turned off her phone, even when she didn’t want to talk to him.

“What’s wrong?” Emily asked. She and JJ have been looking at Spencer since he got the call.

“I need to pick up Evie from school. (Y/N) didn’t show up and is not answering the phone. It goes straight to voicemail.”

“Maybe she didn’t charge it?” JJ wondered.

“I don’t know, but it never happened before.”

Emily and JJ noticed Spencer’s worried face. Despite what was going on between them, Spencer was still the person who knew (Y/N) better.

“Do you want us to check on her?” Prentiss asked.

“No. I mean, probably it’s nothing. And (Y/N) will freak out if she sees you there.” Spencer said as he dialed (Y/N)’s number again.

“Tell you what. I will pick up Evie, and you can check on (Y/N). So you’ll know if Evie has to stay at yours today,” JJ offered.

Spencer thought for a second. They would have to talk either way, so it would be better to do it now, supposing she was there.

“Okay. I’m calling the school to tell them.”

-

In the taxi on his way to the apartment, Spencer called (Y/N) again. He felt uneasy. Maybe it was nothing, but something in his guts felt wrong.

Arriving at the building, he strode stairs up quickly. He found no one in the hallway. It wasn’t rare due to the hour. On this floor, almost everyone had jobs out of the house. At (Y/N)’s door, he knocked twice. Nobody answered, but he could hear a faint rustling sound from inside. He grabbed the knob and turned it; he noticed the door wasn’t locked. Something was wrong. Aiming his gun with one hand, he opened the door slowly with the other.

The sight he found was something he wasn’t expecting. (Y/N) was back on the floor, coated in blood, trying to move. The floor exhibited a trail of blood from the living room to the hallway where (Y/N) lay. Spencer ran to check on her.

“(Y/N)?!”

Kneeling, he saw her covered in blood, whining in pain. She was shot, apparently in her abdomen, but Spencer wasn’t sure.

“Fuck! Hey! (Y/N), look at me. Can you hear me?!” He probed, touching her torso to locate the blood’s source. At the same time, he grabbed the phone to call 911.

“A woman with GSW in Connecticut Ave 326, apartment 23. An unknown subject possibly attacked her. The wound - the wound is located in her abdomen. It seems she has lost a lot of blood. Oh my- please, hurry up.” Tosing the phone to the floor, Spencer slid off his jacket to press (Y/N)’s wound. She screamed in pain from the pressure. Spencer grabbed her left hand to make her react by squeezing it. A lump formed in Spencer’s throat. His eyes couldn’t avoid noticing that she was still wearing her wedding band.

“(Y/N), please. Stay with me. Squeeze my hand. The help is on the way.”

Barely conscious, (Y/N) squirmed in pain, mumbling something.

Spencer leaned down to hear what she was trying to say.

“Evie. Evie,” she repeated in a whisper.

“She is okay. Evelyn is fine. She is with JJ right now,” Spencer informed, hoping that if she knew their daughter was okay, she could focus on her breathing and be less agitated.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) mumbled again, feeling her eyes heavy and her body numb.

“No. Don’t apologize.”

“Take care of her, please,” she mumbled, tears flooding her eyes.

“Don’t say that. You will be fine. Just hold on,” Spencer was crying too.

Spencer panicked when (Y/N) shut her eyes and didn’t reply.

“Please (Y/N), don’t leave me.”

The paramedics arrived just minutes after, parting Spencer away to check (Y/N)’s vitals and her wound.

“(Y/N)! Please! Evie needs you...” he sobbed, realizing how bad the situation was. The medical staff kept working on (Y/N).

They quickly placed (Y/N) on a stretcher to carry her into the ambulance waiting outside the building. Her pulse was weak, and they feared she could flat right there.

“Sir. Are you a family member?” A paramedic asked Spencer, who was still in shock.

“Yes. I – I - She is my wife,” he stuttered, seeing his hands covered with (Y/N)’s blood.

“We’re heading to the WHC right now,” she informed. Spencer nodded and followed her downstairs.

In the ambulance, Spencer texted Emily a very cryptic message, but she understood, and the team was at (Y/N)’s apartment in no time. Prentiss also notified JJ to stay with Evie in her home with the boys until further notice.

The emergency team took (Y/N) to the ER immediately. Spencer rushed behind them, but an ER nurse stopped him.

“Sir. Sir! You can’t go in there. You’ll have to stay in the waiting room.”

“But, she- she’s my wife. I need to -”

“Sir. We are doing everything we can. Please, go to the waiting room.”

Spencer couldn’t understand what was happening. This looked like a scene he frequently witnessed at work, with the victims, the unsubs, and the team. He got shot a few times too. But (Y/N)? Why her? In her own apartment? Nothing made sense to him. Sitting on an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, Spencer tried to keep calm but failed. Recalling the times he had said ‘my wife’ in the past hour brought him the pang of their separation again. Seeing (Y/N) still using her wedding band made him feel terrible.

“What have I done?” He wondered as the tears ran freely down his cheeks. With both hands, he held his head down. This was a nightmare. It was undoubtedly worse than those that appeared after Milburn because this was pure reality.

JJ was the first one to arrive at the hospital. She quickly pulled Spencer into a hug, and he broke. Sobbing hard, Spencer clung to JJ, trying to let out the frustration, the guilt, the pain. JJ assured him that she’ll be there for him and that Evie was safe in her house with Will and the boys.

One hour later, there wasn’t any news about (Y/N)’s condition. But the team arrived at the waiting room. Prentiss had a stern look as she sat beside Spencer.

“Any news?” Emily asked. JJ and Spencer shooked their heads. Spencer, who had his eyes fixed on the floor, shifted his gaze to Emily and noticed she knew something he didn’t.

“What did you find?” He asked. Prentiss cleared her throat, handing him a little piece of paper.

“We found this on the coffee table,” she said. Spencer read the message, and it was like the world had stopped.

‘Hi, Spencie. Did you miss me? I thought of reminding you that you never will be happy with another woman that isn’t me. You know where to find me.’

Spencer’s hands started to shake. This couldn’t be real. He thought Cat Adams couldn’t do more damage than she already had done. He’ll kill that woman.

Spencer was about to storm out of the waiting room when Prentiss stopped him.

“Not even think about that. You will not go to see Cat. Now you have to think about (Y/N) and Evie. She did enough, and we’ll catch her associate. I promise,” Emily stated, squeezing Spencer’s shoulder. He looked at her with bloodshot eyes. Prentiss was right, but that didn’t prevent the feeling of rage and frustration that took over him.

“Please, do something. If you don’t, I will,” Spencer said before walking to the bathroom sector.

Half an hour later, a nurse approached Spencer in the waiting room.

“Are you (Y/N) Reid’s husband?”

“Yes. It’s me,” Spencer quickly replied.

“Your wife is still in surgery. The doctor would tell you more about it later, but she’s fighting. I thought you would like to have some news. I also brought you this. These are the belongings she was wearing.” The nurse handed him (Y/N)’s watch and her wedding ring. Spencer’s eyes went glassy again.

“Thank you.”

Once the nurse left, Spencer plopped in the chair again.

“What is that?” JJ pointed to Spencer’s fisted hand. He opened it, revealing (Y/N)’s wedding band. Searching for his wallet, he produced another wedding band: his.

“She still had hers on. I took mine off when I gave up on her,” Spencer mumbled, suppressing the urge to cry again. Taking a deep breath to calm down, he clamped his hand tightly, securing the ring inside.

“If I was the one who walked away, why is she the one who is harmed and at risk of dying? It is unfair. It’s me who deserves to be hurt, not her.”

“Don’t say that. Neither you nor (Y/N) deserves to be hurt, okay?” JJ told him, squeezing Spencer’s forearm to catch his attention; he looked at her reluctantly.

“What happened to her is not your fault. You know that.”

“It’s my fault. Cat did this because of me.”

“Spence…”

“And if that wasn’t enough, I have been an asshole in the past months. I lied, saying that I had stopped loving her! I left the love of my life! And why? Because my fucking pride was fucking wounded!” Spencer shouted.

“I’m not going to lie and tell you that you didn’t fuck it up because you did. But if you’re really sorry, maybe there is a chance,” JJ pointed.

“And if she dies?” Spencer’s voice cracked.

“Let’s not think in that scenario, okay?”

“But if she doesn’t make it?” JJ let out a sigh.

“If it is the case, Evie will need you more than ever.”

-

Another tortuous hour passed. Spencer lost count of the coffee he drank, but he didn’t care. Penelope stayed with her computer while the team was tracking Cat’s associate. JJ would bring Evie to the hospital later because whatever could happen, the child was safer with her dad and aunt Sara, who was there too. (Y/N)’s sister barely talked to Spencer. And for the moment, nobody mentioned how the responsible for (Y/N)’s shot was linked to Spencer.

Then a doctor made her appearance in the waiting room.

“(Y/N) Reid?”

Spencer and Sara stood up instantly. Spencer’s hands were trembling from the nerves.

“Yes. I - I’m her – I’m her husband. And she’s her sister,” Spencer hastened to say. He could feel the lump in his throat.

“Okay, I have to be honest. Your wife lost a lot of blood, but we managed to extract the bullet. Nevertheless, her internal organs are still trying to regulate functions. My biggest concern is her liver and brain. She had a considerable concussion; I assume she hit something when she fell to the floor. We must keep her in observation, so the following hours are critical for her.”

Spencer shut his eyes, taking in the doctor’s words. (Y/N) was alive but not out of danger. She had a chance, though. If anything, he would cling to that.

“Can we see her?”

“Yes. She’s unconscious, but you can see her. Follow me.”

Spencer looked at Sara, who shook her head.

“You go. I’ll wait here until Evie comes,” she said. Spencer nodded in appreciation and followed the doctor, who led him to the room where (Y/N) lay, connected to machines that monitored her vitals. She looked pale, but she was the most beautiful girl in the world for Spencer. (Y/N), the love of his life.

He felt so stupid. He walked away from their marriage, from her. He didn’t do anything to salvage it. And now, he could lose her forever.

Spencer stood by her side, hands fighting the urge to hold her. But he didn’t deserve it. He lost any privilege with her when he walked away and took his ring off.

A loud sob escaped his lips, his tears blurring his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Spencer cried, gripping the bar at the side of the hospital bed. The bip-sound coming from the machines was muffled by the sobs that ripped through his chest.

“What did I do? Why did I let this happen? I’m a complete asshole. What I said that day wasn’t true; I didn’t mean it, I swear. I do love you. I never stopped loving you. Maybe you won’t believe me now, and it’s understandable. But this is the truth: I love you and will always do. Please, let me prove it. Give me a chance to make it to you, please.”

Spencer knew that (Y/N) couldn’t hear him, but if there was any chance, he needed to say what he felt.

“I know I never told you everything about Milburn. How it actually was and the things I did there. It’s still embarrassing for me. And I know you only wanted to help me. I screwed up, my love. You have the right to hate me. I gave up without a fight. I should have fought for you, not against you.”

Spencer’s tears fell on (Y/N)’s bed. Her steady breathing gave Spencer some hope. After some more minutes, he left the room.

In the waiting room, Sara was with JJ and Evelyn.

“Daddy!” The little girl chirped, running to her dad’s arms. Spencer was quickly kneeling and taking her in his arms.

“Hey, Pumpkin,” he greeted, hoping Evie didn’t notice his tears and wobbling voice.

“Why are we here? Where is mommy?” Evie asked her father.

“Well. Honey. Mommy got hurt, and she is here so the doctors can fix her,” Spencer explained. Evie frowned the same way Spencer did every time something didn’t make sense to him.

“Mommy fell? Can I kiss her boo-boo?” Spencer gave her a tight smile.

“Non yet, Pumpkin. But the doctors are taking good care of her. Don’t worry, my love,” Spencer said, kissing his daughter’s forehead.

“Why are you sad, daddy?”

“Oh, honey. I’m okay. Daddy is a little tired because he worked a lot today. That’s all. Everything will be fine.”

Spencer hoped everything would be fine. If not, he didn’t know what he would do.

He stayed with Evie and JJ as Sara spent some time in (Y/N)’s room. They went to the cafeteria to grab some hot chocolate and snacks. Evie told Spencer about the games she played in JJ’s house that afternoon. Spencer did his best to look composed and confident in front of Evie.

When Sara returned to the waiting room, they agreed that she would take Evie to her house, and Spencer would stay the night in the hospital.

JJ kept him company until the team showed. Prentiss announced that they caught the woman who shot (Y/N) and got her confession. She told them about Cat’s plan and how she did to contact her.

“Cat will get the death penalty now. She won’t put another finger on you or your family,” Prentiss declared. Spencer sighed.

“I hope it won’t be too late.”

That night, Spencer sat beside (Y/N)’s bed. He won’t leave her side no matter the outcome in the end.

The doctor told him that her chances would increase if she could make it the night.

So he waited. Spencer waited and prayed to whoever could listen and could help him. If he gets another chance, he won’t walk away this time.

-

Maybe someone listened to him. Perhaps the same (Y/N) did.

A sleepy Spencer had his head on (Y/N)’s hospital bed the following day when a groan woke him up. Promptly he straightened his head, seeing how (Y/N) moved her hands.

She blinked several times to adjust her eyes to the light.

“Hey,” Spencer whispered, standing from the chair to look at her closer. Tears of joy pricked his eyes.

“Evie... where...” (Y/N) tried to ask with a raspy voice, feeling her throat dry.

“She is fine. Evie is okay. Don’t worry; Sara has her right now,” Spencer informed, keeping his voice softer.

“I need to see her...”

“You will. I promise, but don’t get upset, okay? It’s not good for your recovery. You need to regain strength first.”

If anything, (Y/N) looked surprised seeing Spencer there. But she didn’t have the strength to ask why or argue.

Nurses came to check on (Y/N) several times in the following hours. Adjusting her medication, she seemed to react well to that, although she dozed off quickly after waking up every time.

Spencer was relieved. It was a good sign seeing her awake for a couple of minutes at least.

He kept on the same chair as he watched (Y/N) sleep. Spencer swore he wouldn’t move from her side until (Y/N) could leave the hospital.

Spencer texted Sara and JJ to let them know the news.

The next morning (Y/N) opened her eyes again. She felt more conscious about her surroundings now. Looking to the side, she noticed Spencer uncomfortable sleeping in the chair. How much time has he been sitting on there? His hair was disveleshed, and his clothes had wrinkles. His arms crossed over his chest, and his head tilted to the side. (Y/N) couldn’t help but remember the night that Evie was born. That time Spencer had an exhausted face, but now it seemed worst.

“You look terrible,” (Y/N) mumbled. Spencer opened his eyes and looked at her. A little smile formed on his face.

“Thanks. How are you feeling?”

“Hard to tell. Alive, I guess? What happened?” (Y/N) asked, trying to find a comfortable position in bed. Spencer’s face morphed to guilt as he stood to help her and handled her a cup of water.

“I’m sorry. It was my fault?” He said, embarrassed. (Y/N) frowned.

“Why? Don’t tell me you hired a hitman to get rid of me permanently?” (Y/N) joked. Not that she thought it, but she felt the need to light the mood. She knew that Spencer hated hospitals.

“(Y/N), please…”

“Hey, I’m joking. But seriously, what happened?”

Spencer told her about Cat Adams and the woman she convinced to shoot her. He said (Y/N) the team arrested the woman, and now Cat would face the death penalty.

“That bitch. I’m glad she will be punished for what she did. Though I don’t think it’s enough to make up for the damage done.” (Y/N) stated. Spencer bit his bottom lip and nodded. He felt so responsible for what happened.

“I’m sorry she hurt you. If it wasn’t for me…” Spencer trailed off.

“Spencer, don’t. It’s not your fault. It’s hers. And I’m not only talking about me being shot, you know,” (Y/N) clarified.

“What do you mean?” Spencer asked curiously.

“I’m talking about what she did to you. I’m talking about Milburn.”

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to mention that, but (Y/N) was being honest. They couldn’t handle that as a couple. And that led them to where they are now. Spencer gulped. If he was looking for an opportunity to say everything stuck in his chest.

“About that. I have to tell you something,” Spencer started. (Y/N) shook her head.

“I know. I know there is nothing to do about it, about us. I just brought it because - ” This time was Spencer who stopped her, softly laying his hand on hers. (Y/N) looked at him, confused.

“It’s the opposite, actually. At least, I think it is. I haven’t been honest with you about many things in the last few months. Especially when our fights started. And you have every reason to be upset with me because I said hurtful things that really aren’t true. That doesn’t justify my behavior, I know. But at least I have to be honest and tell you that I lied when I said I don’t love you anymore. I lied because I just wanted to escape having to accept that I wasn’t okay. That I couldn’t put myself back together after Milburn.”

(Y/N)’s gaze shifted from the hand Spencer had over hers and his glassy eyes. It was the first time since his release that he talked and named ‘Milburn.’

“I wish I had something more eloquent to tell you. I wish I could tell you that I’m fine and healed. But I know I can’t because it’s not true. What is true, however, is that I love you, and the day I left our apartment thinking I could run from my own demons is the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my life. I wish I hadn’t done that, but I did. And being away from you, the only thing that makes me clear is that my life is not life without you. You have been the person who has made me the happiest. You gave me a wonderful daughter, a family to treasure. And look how I paid you. I know I have no right to ask you for anything, but I am so selfish that I dare to do it: please, let me be in your life again. Accept me as your husband again.”

Tears pricked (Y/N)’s eyes. The man in front of her is who she married almost six years ago. The man in front of her still loves her. And he is asking for another chance. (Y/N) knows things have been rough, but this is the first time Spencer admitted he is not okay. It must count in something. Right?

“You know it’s not that simple. You gave up on us. You walked away, Spencer,” (Y/N) reasoned. Spencer nodded, sniffling.

“I know. I hurt you and our daughter. And I’m so sorry. But I’m so sure that we can make it through this. I’m not leaving your side. Not again. I swear to you, my love.”

“Do you really think we have a chance? After what happened between us?” (Y/N) questioned, tears rolling down her cheeks. Spencer squeezed her hand lovingly.

“I do. I always wanted to be a better man FOR you and Evie, you know? But I realized that what makes me a better man IS you and Evie in my life. I don’t have to be the unbreakable guy in the room. I don’t have to pretend I can do everything alone when I can’t. Not with you. You know me better than anyone. And I won’t make the same mistake again. I’m not going to risk losing you. I love you too much to do so. Please, give me another chance to prove it.”

(Y/N) shifted her gaze to the hand that he held. (Y/N) then realized she was not wearing her wedding band, and neither was he.

“You have it?” She asked. Spencer frowned and followed her gaze. There she understood what she was asking. His eyes filled with hope.

“Yes, I have it here.” Spencer reached into his pocket and pulled out two wedding bands: hers and his.

“If we’re going to do this, let’s do it seriously, don’t you think?”

They both chuckled, letting their tears fall freely. Spencer took her left hand and placed the band on her ring finger.

“(Y/N). I promise to love you forever and be a better husband and father. To treasure every day with you, to support and trust you. I promise to do my best so that we can move forward and be as happy as we have been since we met. I love you so so much.”

After Spencer slipped the ring on (Y/N)’s finger, she took the other ring and mimicked the same gesture.

“Spencer. I promise to continue to be your partner and support you through thick and thin. If things haven’t been perfect, I know we can make it at the end of the day. I know we can face difficulties if we are both committed to a life together. I love you and appreciate every minute that life gives me to be with you and our daughter. You can trust me; I’m here for you.”

After slipping the ring on his finger, they both gave each other the biggest smile they could muster. Spencer leaned down and gently kissed her lips. That sealed the mutual promise of love in a hospital room after difficult months for both.

This was a new opportunity for Spencer and (Y/N). This was another chance for Spencer to get over Milburn, but with his wife by his side. The mother of his daughter. The love of his life.

------------------

Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @awesomeness1679 @@alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer

------------------

Do you want to be added to the taglist? Go HERE

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfictions #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #milburn #spencer reid x reader

[supercriminalbean]

Lets get a drink Dave.

David Rossi x Male!reader.

Summary: Rossi runs into his ex on a case, what happens when it didn't excatly end well.

Warning: HOMOPHOBIA, crying, fake death, death, family disowning, car crash, murder, unsub stuff, lossing kids. (Please let me know if I have missed anything)

Words. 10.3K

A/N: OMG IM SO EXCITED THAT IVE FINIALLY FINISHED THIS. I start this wayyyy to long ago (Back in april opps) This story I fucking love, so I hope you enjoy, yesss we get Bi Rossi so enjoy it my loves.

As the team flies over to Seattle, they have a few hours to relax before Hotch gathers them, ready to discuss any more information that Garica may have found them over the last few hours. The case they are investigating this time involved four male victims in their 40s, they were viciously murdered. Their faces are almost impossible to identify, making the team think whoever the unsub is harvesting anger for must look similar to their victims. 

“This is the queen of all knowledge, ask away” Garcia smiles brightly at her team when she pops up on the screen.

“Hey Garcia, have you got any more information on the victims or the last place they were seen?” Hotch asks her.

“Yes, I have actually already been working with the detective of the case, he's been helping me narrow down a few things. So all our victims all worked in the same 5 block radius and get this, each victim's body was disposed of between 1 to 2 miles down from the victim's beforehands workplaces, so his comfort zone is not big at all” Garcia lights up as she speaks.

“Which means his next victims must be close by as well, hey Garcia can you have a look and see if—” Reid starts to speak.

“See if there's any boring middle type jobs and workers they fit our description of our victim, me and detective (Y/l) are already on it” Garcia smirks up at them seeing their surprised and impressive looks staring back at her. Rossi's eyebrows narrow hearing that name, his mind being to race. He hasn’t heard that name in a long time.

“Anything else bossman?” Garcia grins up at them.

“That's it, thanks Garcia” Hotch smiles, moving his finger to the keyboard, ready to end the call.

“Wait Garcia, did you say (Y/L) as in Detective (Y/n) (Y/l)” Rossi's body has tenses up, but he does his best to relax as he feels his team all look towards him.

“Yeah that's the one,” Garcia nods in confirmation.  

“How do you know him?” Morgan pipes up, noticing the change of mood in Rossi. 

“Oh we worked together years ago” Rossi lies well, turning his head to Hotch. Feeling his heated stare, knowing if anyone could read him it would be him.

“Oh good, that will be nice for you two to work together again then” Emily smiles. Soon the topic moves on but Rossi can’t help but focus on the way his heart is pounding in his chest. The thought of seeing you again after so many years is terrifying, you two didn’t exactly end well, and having to hide his past from a team of profilers wasn’t exactly his plan this morning. 

~~~

Once the Jet has landed, night time has already fallen. The team heads straight to the police station knowing it's too late to visit anything else tonight. 

“Hello, you're the FBI team right?” One of the younger police officers jumps off their seats when they spot the BAU team walk in, ready to greet them.

“Yes, I'm Agent Hotchner” Aaron shakes the eager officer's hand.

“The captain is just on the phone but I can show your guys where you all can set up” They smile, leading the team to a conference room, walking past the captain's office on the way. Dave can’t help but slow down and look through your office window seeing you sat at your desk, facing away from them all. Even though he can’t see you properly, just the small glimpse at you brings back memories of your two relationships, something that he hasn’t allowed himself to think about in almost eight years. Hotch can’t help but glance at Dave, feeling as if something is wrong with him. The team doesn’t get much time to set up when you interrupt them, knocking gently on the door when you walk in.

“Good evening everyone” Smiling lightly as you walk in, seeing everyone scattered around the room. Your eyes landing on a taller more put together agent your guessing must be Agent Hotchner.

“Evening, you must be Detective (Y/l)” Hotch walks over, extending his hand, you shake it with a sharp nod.

“That's me, you must be Agent Aaron Hotchner, I’ve already been talking to your technique analysis, she’s great, a bit different but amazing the things she can find” You chuckle softly at the mention of Garcia.

“Oh yeah, that's Garcia alright, let me introduce you to the rest of my team” Hotch points around the room introducing his team, who all smile in response. “Hey uh, does anyone know where Daves gone?” Hotch's eyes narrow as he scans the room for him.

“He went to find the coffee machine” JJ speaks up, before turning back to the notice board, adding some picture up to it. 

“The coffee machine broke, but I got told there's a coffee shop open 24 hours just down the road” Dave walks in, his words trailing off as he sees you standing in the middle of the room. You don’t mean to tense up when you hear his voice but it's one hell of a shock hearing your ex's voice for the first time in almost eight years. You turn around slowly feeling on edge, as you lock eyes with him.

“David” The only word you're able to speak, letting out a small breath as you read the emotions swirling in his eyes, the guilt, the pain, the fear.

“(Y/n), It's good to see you again” He smiles weakly, doing his best to fix his mask that's starting to slip, knowing his whole team is watching, profiling them.

“That's– yeah, you to” Nodding at him faintly, knowing that this isn't the time or place for the conversation you're itching to have. “I wasn't aware you were back on the team, but 

I shouldn’t be surprised working is what you love to do” Smiling forcefully before turning your attention back to Hotch. 

“When you guys arrived I was on the phone with a detective in the next police jurisdiction, they think they have a body he seems to fit the description of our victims, I was just about to head over there to check it out, I’m assuming some of your agents want to join me?” You resume back to your professional manor, doing your best to ignore how much your blood seems to be pumping into your heart, causing it to ache. 

“Yes, you assume right” Hotch nods. Turning around to find the man, you believe he said his name was Morgan.

“Morgan, Dave you two join Detective (Y/l) in the field” He orders, you manage to keep your face steady, knowing that this could easily happen.

“Got it boss” Morgan nods, making eye contact with the woman on his left, the one you believe is called Prentiss. 

“Alright, lets go” You walk out, refusing to look at Dave when you walk past him. 

~~~

The drive to the crime scene is quiet and awkward, taking almost 20 minutes to get there. Morgan sits in the back, glancing between you and Dave the whole time. Soon the silence starts getting unbearable for him.

“So (Y/L), how long have you been the captain of the department for?” Morgan asks, hoping to break up the silence. Finding the tenses in the car too much between the quiet and longing glances Rossi keeps sending you. 

“Almost five years now but I’ve worked in the police department for the last 30 years, I’ve worked in precincts all over this country” Glancing in the rearview mirror at Morgan giving him a small forced small. 

“Oh damn that's a long time, so what must you have joined when you were in your 20’s?” Morgan smiles, glancing at Rossi briefly.

“I did, as soon as I got back from being drafted into the war, I joined the police force straight away, and I’ve been here ever since”

“Oh wow, so you used your job to travel the country, so where were you when you meant Rossi then?” Morgan decided that beating around the bush is taking too long, wanting to get an answer quicker.

“We’ll we met when I was stationed in New york actually” You avoid looking at anyone when New york is mentioned, already feeling Dave's eyes burning holes into you.

“What case were you working on?” Morgan can’t help but glance at Rossi, never having seen this man so focused on someone who's not an unsub before. 

“Serial child kidnapper, he took nine kids over the course of four weeks and three cities, finally trapped him in New york” Rossi finally speaks. For the first time since they entered the car, his voice is quiet seeming to be on edge, he does his best to keep calm. 

“He didn’t kill any of them, I’m glad we managed to save them in time” You smile sadly at the memory of finding the nine kids in the back of a truck. The fear on all their faces still haunts you to this very day, 25 years later.

~~~

Morgan and you head over to where the body lies in the alleyway, letting Dave deal with the other police officer. You crouch down beside the body pulling the sheet back so you can see the body, your face falling as you see what the Unsub has done to the victim. His face had begun to be cut into before, it looks like he tore into it with his fingers. Scratches all over his face, his eyes seeming to look as if they have been dug into, trying to be pulled out. 

“Well if this isn’t his main target then I would say he is getting close to it, he's beginning to devolve here” Speaking slowly as you study the unsub kill pattern, comparing it in your head to the previous victims.

“Jesus, he did a number on this guy alright” Morgan sighs, looking around the alleyway. “Its really exclude around here isn't it, no one would have seen or heard anything” 

“Yeah, it's the same as the last few crime scenes, and I bet just like the last crime scenes, there are no cameras until two buildings down” Smirking at little as you spot something around the victims mouth. “Hey Morgan look at this” You bring your gloved hand to the victim's mouth that's slightly open finding some blood on his tooth. “Reckon he managed to bite our unsub?”

“Oh yes he did, that is great” Morgan grins at you glancing up as Dave approaches. “Hey Rossi we think we have some of the Unsub DNA” Morgan informs him.

“Good, because there are no cameras and no witness the person that found him was walking a dog who went nuts when they tried to walk past” Dave huffs, looking down at the body.

“Not surprised” Sighing slightly as you look at Dave, your mind no longer on the unsub but rather on the man in front of you. The man you haven't seen in almost eight years, the man you have oh so many questions for.

~~~

As the three of you start walking back to the SUV, letting the crime scene unit clean the area up. You slow down, letting Morgan take the lead once you all reach the SUV, you grab Dave's arm, stopping him from getting in.

“One moment David” Your voice comes out harsh, pushing through the hesitant building inside you. Knowing it's now or exploding in front of his team later on. Morgan glances at you two curiously, before quickly climbing into the SUV, wanting to give you two privacy. You let go of Daves arm, feeling him tense under your touch. He turns around slowly refusing to look you in the eyes.

“You need to cut it out David. If you don’t want your team to know what the hell happened between us, then you need to get your act together” You can’t help but snap at him, the hurt from years ago coming crashing back to you.

“How do you know that they already don’t know?” He questions you with no bite, which just confirms that you're right.

“Because I know you Dave, or at least I thought I did” Crossing your arms over your chest defensively, taking a deep breath. “Look, what happened, happened years ago I’m over it and so are you so why don’t we just get our shit together, for the case, we don’t want your precious team to know what's going on with you” Your words are short, breathing heavily doing your best to keep your anger at bay.

“You're not over it… neither am I” Dave speaks quietly, looking into your eyes, his eyes full of vulnerability. 

“Yeah well, we should be” You can’t look at him anymore, everything rushing back to you.

“We don’t have to be..” Dave's words are soft, knowing everything that has happened between you two hasn’t been easy.

“Let's go Dave” You turn away from him, moving quickly when you see his hand move towards you to stop you. You make your way to the drivers side getting in quickly, the drive back to the precinct is quiet, the tension doubling, Morgan knows to stay silent this time.

~~~

You go straight to your office when the three of you get back to the precinct. Closing your office door with a bit too much force, the bang echoing around the empty building. Dave trails in after Morgan, flinching slightly at the bang of your door, walking in quietly behind Morgan. Dave allows the younger man to take over informing the team of what they have found, as he takes a seat at the end of the table, not meaning to zone so far out as he does. The team couldn’t help but notice that Rossi isn’t throwing out any ideas during the briefing and Hotch can’t help but narrow his eyes at him. Worry coursing through him when he takes in his friends zone out look, noticing the fear and guilt flooding through his eyes. Knowing Dave is too far out of it to be any help nor hide his emotions and definitely wouldn’t like a team of profilers trying to get any information out of him, he decided maybe it's time to end things for the night.

“Alright everyone, go back to the hotel to get some rest. I want everyone back here first thing in the morning” Hotch orders them, watching them all sigh out in relief, getting up grabbing their to-go bags and heading down to the SUV. The only one not to move is Dave, Hotch decides he's going to give him a moment before making him go back to the hotel with him. Hotch makes his way over to your office, knocking softly when he sees that you're sitting at your desk staring at the wall with the same look on your face as Dave.

“Come in” You call out, clearing your throat sitting up straightly, watching as Hotchner walks in.

“Hotch, what can I do you for?” Giving him a forceful smile, your mind feeling a million miles away.

“I just wanted to let you know, I’ve sent my team away for the night, we will be back first thing in the morning, but so far tonight we have no new leads” Hotch updates you, his eyes scanning over you, profiling you.

“Alright, thank you, I’ll be here when your team arrives in the morning, have a goodnight Hotch” You give him a small nod, just doing your best to get him out of your office. Needing to go home so you can figure out how the hell you're going to deal with tomorrow. Hotch stares at you for a few seconds before bidding you goodnight and making his way back to Dave. Who still has’t move the only thing that has changed, is a stray tear sliding down his cheek.

“Oh Dave”

~~~

Aaron makes his way over to him, laying his hand gently on his friend's shoulder, worry spreading through his mind as he watches Dave jump from his touch. Dave's eyes shot up at him in shock, almost like he forgot where he was for a second. Aaron watches as Dave shoves his emotions far down, still not realising a tear had escaped down his face.

“Jesus Aaron, you can’t just sneak up on me like that” Dave huffs out, doing his best to try and pretend he's fine, even when he can feel his heart breaking apart. 

“Sneaking up on you would have to mean I wasn’t trying to speak to you since I walked in the door after sending the team back to the hotel five minutes ago Dave” Aaron sighs softly. “Come on, lets go” Hotch grabs his bag along with a few files, glances back at Dave seeing him doing the same, being oddly quiet for him. They make it out to the car, Hotch getting in the driver's side. They drive in silence for a while, Hotch glancing at Dave worriedly throughout the drive.

“So who is he?” Aaron speaks gently, not wanting to startle Dave, knowing how easily startled he can be when he's like this.

“Aaron..” Dave sighs out his name, staring out the window. The rain falling reminds him of the cosy nights cuddled up in front of the fireplace.

“You don’t have to talk about it, but if you do” Aaron locks eyes with Dave, giving him the opportunity to tell him anything. Aaron's eyes soon go back on the road, silence filling the vehicle once more. Aaron thinks he’s not going to mention anything else as they make their way to the hotel.

“(Y/n) was my first love” Dave's words hang in the air for a few seconds. The sadness, heartbreak, chilling in the words spoken, the fear plain on his face. 

“What happened?” Aaron pulls up, looking at him with soft eyes, knowing that this story doesn’t have a happily ever after ending.

“We..” Dave opens his mouth, but he doesn’t know where to even begin. Where did it even start to go wrong with the two of you? It’s always felt like your relationship has been cursed since the beginning.

~~~

That night you go home, long after everyone else already has. You skip dinner for the night pouring yourself a scotch instead as you get ready for bed. Sitting down on the side of the bed, placing your glass down which directs your eyes to the small wooden box that sits on the edge of your bedside table. Slowly you reach for it, taking a deep breath as your fingers trace the word engraved on the front just above the lock. Emotions swirl inside you as you trace ‘Angel’. Memories from the past 40 years are starting to come to the surface. Opening the box with care, picking up the pile of photos that have a layer of dust on them, having not been open in such a long time. You remove the top pile, moving them to the bottom, knowing the most recent photos of the years you spent with him would just kill you. So instead you look through the photos that hold the memories of you and Dave’s first date. A small study date down at the lake that was only 20 minutes from your home. You were 15 the day that everything changed, the day you both knew you two would have to hide how you felt for ever. You didn’t even know there were tears brewing until you saw them dropping on the photos as you flick through them. Stopping on the one from your last date with him, it was your one year anniversary, you were now 16 and he was preparing to leave school. That day, people found out about you two and you were lucky to get away from school alive that day. That was when you knew you two could never be anything more than just friends.

~~~

A few more tears drop down as you get past the photos of you at war. Remembering how you got to spend a couple special nights with Dave before it all went down hill. You two somehow managed to get put on the same base for a week, but then he was injured and was honourably discharged. That was the last time you saw him for almost two years, two years of hell. As soon as you were out, you went to find him and luckily he was easy to find with a few calls. Just when you did, everything went downhill again. He was about to get married and his fiancee was pregnant. He had moved on, but you just couldn’t do it as easily as he could. You still stayed in touch with him, still stayed his best friend. But the pain became too much so you left and found your own life in due time. 

~~~

The photos go back into the wooded box after somehow one of the more recent photos appears in the pile. The photo of you and Dave from 15 years ago, when you two finally managed to go on a date in public comes to light. The box closes with a snap, the emotions ready to boil out as you skull the rest of the scotch before getting up for another drink. Knowing tomorrow is going to be a hell of a day. Sighing softly as you finally get into bed that night, one final look at the box.

“I'm so sorry my angel I do wish things were different” A tear slides down as you allow some memories to consume you for the night.

~~~

The next morning, you're already in your office when Hotch and Rossi arrive. Sparing a quick look at them as they walk past, you're thankful you were on the phone when he walked past. Not realising how much just one glance at him would affect you this morning. One look at him and the feelings you shoved so far down eight years ago start to stir. God damn, why does he have to look so good in the morning.

After a few moments the rest of his team start to arrive so you make your way from your office to the room you gave them. Your eyes are unable to move from Rossi that is until he glances at you then suddenly it's like you can’t even acknowledge him as you walk in.

“Morning Detective” Hotch gives you a small smile, spotting from the corner of his eyes as Rossi makes his way to the other side of the room away from you.

“Morning, I just got a phone call from the morgue saying they're ready for us” You inform him. Ignoring the way Rossi moves from you, or the way the younger team members give each other some interesting looks.

“Great, why don’t you take Morgan and Reid” Hotch glances at the two younger men, who nod in response quickly grabbing some of their gear.

“Thank you” Your eyes glance over at Dave, who is staring at the board in front of him. But by the way he plays with his fingers and the relieved smile creeping on to his face, you know he's not really looking at the board.

~~~

The trip to the morgue is informative, the unsub died the same way as the others, but he did have more fight in him and did indeed manage to get the unsub DNA. It's now being out through all the systems and so far has no hits. Now you three are making your way back to the precinct, the sun has been shining all morning, so you pull your jacket off before getting in the SUV. Morgan sat in the passenger seat beside you while Reid hopped in the back, and continued to talk about the significance of the drugs the unsub used. Morgan's eyes couldn;t help but be dragged to your arms that's where now exposed, mainly he’s focusing on the tattoo you have. Angel wings with flames on the edges, in the middle of the two wings was the word ‘Amore, 2005’ and above the word and wings sat a pair of devil ears. 

“Sorry but (Y/L) that is an interesting tattoo you got there” Morgan's voice puts a stop to the kids rambling and pulls you from your daydream. 

“Oh my tattoo?” Glancing down to where he was staring, a small smile pulling at your lips. “Everyone tells me they never think I’m a tattoo person, let alone someone to get one like that, but I love it, and it has a small story that goes along with it to” A smile breaks out as you inform him, remembering the day you got it.

“Oh a story huh?” Morgan smiles back, seeing the love swirling in your eyes.

“One that is best told over a good glass of scotch” You chuckle softly. “Maybe if you guys have time before you leave after the case I’ll take your team out for some drinks and tell you.”

“Now I like that idea” Morgan grins at you, before glancing at Reid who has a shocked expression on his face as he stares at the tattoo.

~~~

The day drags on slowly, your back in the conference room with Hotch, JJ and Dave. You can’t seem to concentrate as the dead ends keep piling up, sighing softly as you get up, looking at them all. 

“I think we could all do with some decent coffee, there's a coffee shop down the road, I will be back shortly” You smirk as you see JJ grin up at you.

“That would be great, thank you” 

“Hey, I could do with a break as well” Rossi gets up, which earns a small hidden smirk from Hotch.

“Fine, that's helpfully you can carry them back then” Holding back a groan as you walk out, Dave following you closely staring at you wondering just how he can fix this.

The walk to the coffee shop doesn’t take long, it's silent but it's not uncomfortable. You can’t help but glance at his hand that swings almost too close to yours, remembering the first time you finally got to hold his hand in public. You walk inside without a word, heading up to the counter, opening your mouth ready to order when Dave actually speaks up.

“Good afternoon, can I get one large cappuccino with two extra shots and a shot of vanilla, two large lattes and then just a large cappuccino with an extra shot as well please” He smiles sweetly at the cashier who nods and begins to get them started. Your smile widens accidently as you watch him, he still remembers your coffee order after all this time. Damn it, has his smile always made his face glow like that? 

~~~

After he pays you both go and take a seat, after being informed it might take a while.

“So, I guess you're not avoiding me now?” You smile softly at him, giving him that knowing look. One he never knew he missed so much until he finally sees it again, gosh it's enough to make him melt. Dave has to swallow thickly as he stares at you, he’s blaming the sun for beaming down on you the way it is. It brings out all your beauty, your golden hazel eyes shine brightly, reminding him of when the sun used to shine down on you when you two used to play at the lake, back in the life of two teenages. The wrinkles on your face above the eyes hide the scars you got from one practical afternoon at the lake. 

“I couldn’t avoid you the whole time I’m here” Dave smirks a little, shaking his head trying to clear his mind.

“You know what happened between us, when we last broke up, you know I forgive you for that right?” Taking a deep breath as you bring up the elephant in the room. Dave's shoulders tense up, the pain flickering through his eyes once more.

“I wish I never did that.. We could’ve worked through things If I didn’t do that” His words soften, glancing down at the table finding it more interesting suddenly.

“I don’t think we could have… we were both in too much pain.. Moving forward was too hard. You took an out and I don't blame you” Taking a deep breath, refusing to over think what you're about to do next. Knowing it's something you should have done years ago. You reach out to him, wrapping your hand around his, giving it a small squeeze. 

“You should.. I cheated on you after we had just..” His words get stuck in your throat as he looks up at you. His eyes glossing over with tears of his past, knowing he can never undo what he did.

“I know..I wish I could hate you for running off and getting married but I tried for the last ten years to make you the villain in my mind but I can’t do that, our past won’t allow me to do that” You smile weak, gulping as you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Only now realising that you both have leaned in closely while talking, your hands tightening together.

“I could never truly move on from you (Y/n) I don’t think I ever can” Daves voice is now barely audible, but his words make you breath hitches.

“Neither can I” You agree, and without thinking you lean forward steadily and he slowly follows your lead.

“Dave?” The barista shouts out, making you both pull away quickly. Dave jumps up quickly to go collect the coffee, giving you a moment to collect yourself.

~~~

The afternoon moves by slowly and awkwardly. The tension between you and Dave seemed to grow after getting back to the precinct handing off the coffees. The whole team notices the longing looks between you and Dave, the way one of you would move and the others eyes would follow. The afternoon turns to night, everyone is talking when Morgan's phone starts ringing.

“It's Garcia” He informs everyone before answering you and putting it on speaker. “Hey Baby Girl, you’re on speaker, what's ya got?”

“I found him, I got him” Garcia gets straight to the point, forcing everyone to jump to their feet. 

“Who is it Garcia?” Hotch questions.

“Fred Smith, I use the DNA to find him and he fits the profile to a T, like if there is an unsub shape mould type thing he is it” She bumbles on. “He got out of jail a month before the murders began, just like you said”

“Address babygirl?” Morgan asks, before grabbing his gun.

“He has a warehouse downtown and an apartment, already sent” She grins to herself.

“Thank you baby” Morgan hangs up, turning to his boss. 

“Alright, (Y/L) why don’t you take JJ, Reid and Rossi to his apartment, the rest of us will go to the warehouse” Hotch looks at you, receiving a quick nood before you all race out to the vehicles. 

~~~

All four of you enter his apartment, carefully, splitting up, making sure it's clear. Regathering in the living room, eyes widening as you look around. The drawings all over his desk, pictures of the dead bodies pinned to the wall with knives. 

“Well this will be an easy conviction at least” You're the first to speak, staring at the pictures and drawings with interest. 

“Yes it will be” Dave walks up to stand behind you, his breath lingering on your neck. Your breath gets stuck in your throat as he moves to come to stand beside you. Standing so close, the warmth is radiating off his body, making the nerves swish rapidly in your stomach. Take a breath before you start looking through the room, feeling his eyes burning a hole into you. Dave couldn’t tear his eyes off you right now, not when everything he wants to say is on the top of his tongue, if the two other agents weren’t with them he doesn’t think he could stop himself right now. 

“Hey Dave, come look at this” You call out to him, your eyes solely focused on a ripped up paper that has fallen onto the floor.

“What is it?” Dave asks before getting down onto his knees beside you, his eyes narrowing on the paper as you pick it up. 

“A list of company names, a victim from each company, that smart kid of yours was right” Smirking as you read through the list of names.

“He still has six names left on his list” Dave sighs, taking the paper off you, reading through it as you climb to your own feet. You have to press your lips tightly together to stop a small chuckle from escaping as you look down at Dave on his knees, a smirk forming on your lips instead, a light playing in your eyes.

“What’s that look for?” Dave questions you, his eyes frowning as he looks up at you. That cute confused look on his face is something you have missed.

“Just forgot how good you look when you're down on your knees like that” Chuckling softly as your eyes slide down his body, you know that's a dangour game to play, but a part of you just doesn’t care, a part of you even craves the danger. 

“That doesn’t seem like a work place appropriate” Dave fights back the smile, the blood rushing to his face. The hint of redness with his shy smile, makes you laugh softly as you help him off the floor.

“Sorry, you know I love to tease you” Licking your lips softly realising your hands are still together. “Especially when you're down on your knees like that” Winking at him pulling your hand away as you watch his eyes widen, the small blush on his face turning on to full speed. 

“Okay guys, Hotch just called, they—” JJ announces walking into the room with Reid, coming to an immediate stop, her eyes flickering between the two older men. The tension seemed to have lessened, but they can’t help but notice the red face of Rossi and the smirking cocky look resting on your face.

“What does Aaron have?” Dave asks them, pulling himself together quickly.

“They caught him, he was down the road from the warehouse about to grab another victim” JJ informs them, glancing at Rossi concerned.

“Good, easy case to wrap up then” Smiling at Dave weakley, knowing that once he gets on the jet then that's it. 

“Yeah, good” Dave avoids your eyes as he makes his way out.

~~~

You help the team finish off their paperwork so they can make an easy exit from this town. Hotch, Emily, and Dave are still in with Fred trying to get him to confess to all the murders. 

“Hey, any luck?” Morgan looks up as the three agents make their way in.

“Confessed to all the murders” Emily grins, places down the case files.

“Oh good, by the way the jet won’t be ready until tomorrow afternoon, apparently there's a few issues and it has a couple tests to run first” JJ sighs informing them all.

“Wait, does that mean sleep in?” Emily smiles looking up hopeful, everyone's gaze turns to the boss.

“Well I mean we don’t have to be out of the hotel until 10, so sure sleep in” Hotch smile lightly at them before turning back to board, taking everything down as they cheer quietly. You notice Dave walking over to the window, frowning a little at how distracted he looks, you head over to him.

“Hey you” Smiling faintly as you stand beside him. 

“Hey” He stares out the window, his mind a thousand miles away.

“What's going on in there?” Sighing as you stare at him, the look on his face is one you have seen too many times and it's almost always a sign of concern.

“It's not important” He dismisses you quickly, sighing as he glances at you, a look in his eyes you just can’t identify.

“It is, if you don’t want to tell me right now, then why don’t we get drinks tonight” Placing a hand softly on his arm, a smile forcing its way on to his face.

“Yo drinks tonight, we’re in” Morgan intreputes you, him and Prentiss standing oddly close by. Holding back a few curse words at the younger man, you smile fakely.

“Perfect, I’ll take you all out tonight, first rounds on me” Laughing silently as the younger agents all cheer in delight.

~~~

One round turns to many, stories are told, laughter fills the table. You and Dave somehow sit across each other, eyes catching each other occasionally making smiles grow. You two haven’t had a calm conversation yet alone a moment like this in over 10 years now, it's nice. 

“It's why I’m extremely careful climbing rocks now” Laughing as you tell them a brief story of how you got the scar above your eye, leaving out a certain person in that story.

“Okay so (Y/L), you said you would tell me about your tattoos?” Morgan smiles interestedly at you.

“Oh right my tattoo” Smiling sadly as you pick up your glass of scotch, sipping on it thinking back.

“You don’t have to” Dave looks at you, his eyes soft knowing what your tattoo represents.

“It's okay Dave, it's no longer a sad reason” Smiling reassuringly at him, knowing that the memories behind the tattoo affects you both. 

“Wait, Rossi, you already know about his tattoo, I thought you two only worked together once?” Morgan smirks lightly, glances at Prentiss.

“Yeah Rossi, you two seem to know alot about each other for only one case together, what did you say twenty years ago?” Emily joins Morgan in the teasing, wanting to know the history between the two men.

“It is strange that you two have quite similar tattoos as well” Reid pipes up.

“Wait tattoos, Rossi I didn’t know you have any tattoos?” JJ looks over at Rossi a little confused.

“We uh, we kept in touch after the case” You clear your throat, feeling caught off with everyone's questioning. Rossi's eyes stare into yours but it almost seems like he’s getting lost inside his own mind, wondering what he should be telling his team.

“My tattoos tell a story about those I love and lost” Rossi finally drags his eyes away from yours looking back at the rest of his team.

“Can we see your tattoos, Rossi?” Emily looks at him hopeful.

“Okay fine, only because I know that look on your face Prentiss, you won’t leave it alone otherwise” Rolling his eyes at them, the team erupted in laughter at the slightly offended look on Emily's face. Rossi gets up, pulling his jacket off before unbuttoning the first top buttons of his shirt, turning around as he pulls the collar of his shirt down, revealing his right shoulder blade. Four names are spread across the area, each with a date. The oldest one, dates back to 1976, the name Amore printed above it. Next was James, 1978, above his name was a rose connecting his name to Carolyn, 2012. Then comes the name you weren’t ready for, Angel 2005.

“Carylon passed away?” Your voice is weak as you think back to their wedding, one of the hardest days of your life. 

“Yes, last year” Dave smiles sadly at you, buttoning up his shirt again. 

“Can we ask who Amore is?” Reid asks quietly, the whole table going quiet.

“Amore, was the love of my life” Dave takes a deep breath as he looks into your eyes. 

“What happened to her?” JJ asks gently, watching the emotions swirl across Dave's face.

“He supposedly died in the war” Dave's voice shakes, the tears swelling in his eyes. “But then, almost two years later he knocks on my door” 

“He?” Morgan smiles softly at Dave, everyone going quiet, giving him his time.

~~~

“We met in high school, back then boys weren’t allowed to date each other, you all know how it was” Rossi starts speaking, now refusing to look at you as he tells your story. “We never meant to fall in love, he was a year below me but needed help with some class work, my teacher asked me to help him out so I did, an we formed this friendship” As Dave speaks, your mind travels back to those days, the memorise of your first study lesson in the library. How the first two study lessons were quiet and awkward, not unable to understand the way he would teach you. The day after the third lesson you went to your favourite place in town before going home, the lake. It was always so peaceful and quiet, barely anyone knew about the part you would go to, giving you the perfect hiding space you always craved. Apart from that afternoon, when you're sitting on the rocks just above the lake, doing some sketching of the trees opposite you. You hear a noise, footsteps and a strange sound you can’t identify straight away. The longer you concentrate on it, the louder it gets and when suddenly there's a flashlight you're finally able to figure it out, a camera. 

“Well, well well what do we have?” His soft laughter catches you off guard, turning to the side where the bright light came from.

Cut it out David, seriously?” Huffing annoyed at him, blinking rapidly trying to get rid of that flashlight outta your eyes. 

“Oh just relax, (Y/n)” David smiles cheekily at you as he climbs the rocks, sitting down beside you. “What are you drawing?” He asks, looking down.

“Just trees” Shrugging as you show him. “It's just a rough draft for now”

“It's beautiful, do you draw often?” Dave questions him, looking up at his face, enjoying the peaceful concentration across his face. It's a nice change from the frustrated look he normally has on his face when stuck in the library. 

“Most days” Nodding at Dave, a smile pulling at his lips.

“So, do you come here for the quiet, so you can draw in peace?”

“I do” Glancing over at him, your eyes mainly focusing on his smile, which brings a small one of your own out. 

“Oh, then I will leave you to it” Dave goes to get up, feeling bad for intruding on your space.

“No, don't go” Your hand grabbing his hand quickly, stopping him. “I originally came here to do some homework today, but I still couldn't understand it. Can you help me?” Your voice is soft and desperate as you ask him, there's no part of him that could deny you. Especially with your hand holding his like that.

~~~

“People found out about us” Dave's voice pulls you back to the present, sipping on your drink as you figure out where he's up to. “We hid our relationship for almost a year, but when rumours started to spread we had to end it so we could keep ourselves safe, it wasn’t good but we did our best” Dave takes a sip on his drink, ignoring the looks his team's all share. “I only had six months left at the school, when I left we started dating again thinking it would be safe, that summer was one of the best” His eyes flick to you, sharing a small smile at the memories flashing through both of your minds.

“Anyway, I ended up going to war near the beginning of the year, and after about eight months or so. Well when I got to base camp, he was somehow there” Dave can not stop the smile that spreads across his face as he thinks about the day. “He had gotten himself kicked out of school earlier that year due to misbehaviour and his parents made him join the military” 

“Huh, sounds like you had yourself a rebel boy there Rossi” Morgan jokes lightly, earning a rough laugh from the older man. 

“Oh you can say that again Morgan” Rossi smirks, knowing just how much trouble you two used to cause.

“Well during our time deployed, I managed to go home a few months before him, we had discussed moving to D.C and living our life there, so I moved there with the idea he would join me when he got out” Daves voice becomes shaky along with his hand, having to set his glass down before he drops it. Your heart breaks as you watch him, never getting to see him open up about your death.

“I was there for three months, and the day before he was supposed to arrive I got a phone call from his brother, letting me know there had been an accident and he didn’t make it” You have to tear your eyes off him, feeling some eyes staring at you along with Rossi. 

“I couldn’t believe it, but I knew I had to move on, so I continued my life in D.C, after awhile i meet Caroyln and we started dating, she becoming pregnant and we were going to get married, two days before we got married there was a knock on my door, and it was him” Rossi takes a deep breath.

“Sorry I need a drink” You quickly excuse yourself, heading to the bar needing to get away from those memories. The moment that lady opened the door of your lover's house, the moment you knew it was over.

~~~

You stand by the bar for a few minutes nursing your drink, trying to pull yourself back together before you walk back over there. A soft hand comes to rest in the middle of your back, pulling you away from the thoughts floating through your mind. You don’t need to look up to see who it is, leaning back into his touch.

“Sorry I just needed a minute” Sighing softly, his hand rubs your back slowly. 

“That's okay, It’s not easy to talk about, but I thought It was time I finally told my family about you” You could hear his smile pushing through his words. Family. Him telling his family about you always seemed out of the question, something you both would have to learn to live without. But, when he said those words, something seems to be fluttering in your chest, you're just not sure if it's feelings resurfacing or just plain old anxiety. 

“You have a great family now Dave” You sip on your drink, trying to figure out how you're feeling.

“That I do, one who would like to hear more of our story, if you're up to it?” Dave wraps his arm fully around your waist.

“Only the good parts” Smiling more as you lean into his touch, forgetting how safe he always feels. 

“Only the good parts” He chuckles softly in agreement as he leads you back towards the table. 

~~~

The seating around the table has slightly changed, JJ has gotten up and has now moved to sit beside Emily. Allowing you both to sit beside each other, even if you two haven’t said it yet, everyone around you has figured you two out.

“So um, can we get to know more of the story please?” JJ asks softly after a few moments of silence. 

“Of course” You answer them with a smile, shocking them slightly with that small confirmation. 

“So during me and Carylorn's marriage, we still stayed in contact, well we tried to but life got it the way” Daves voice trails off as he thinks back to that time he called you for the first time in 6 months because he needed you after James died. You drove 18 hours that day to get to him, only stopping for gas. You didn’t care about anything else except being there for him, the pain he was going through wasn’t fair. 

“We kept in contact when we could, we both moved on. I started dating again and Dave just kept getting divorced” Laughing softly, nudging him gently earning your favourite David Rossi eye roll as the rest of the group just laughs at you two, sharing looks with each other.

“Anyway we did our best to stay in contact, but soon a couple years went by and then we ran into each other during a case in New york” Rossi continues the story, Morgan's head shoots up at the mention of New York again.

“What happened in New York” Morgan asks, doing his best to hold the desperate for the answer, back from his voice.

“We ended up having to work together and things I tried to hide from him for a while seem to come to light” Taking a quick breath as those memories start to rise, Dave notices your body tensing, seeing the fire and past swirling around in your eyes, he slides his hand off the table, taking your hand in his.

“I won’t go into details, but Dave figured out I was in a toxic, borderline abusive relationship—”

“It was not borderline, but continue” Dave interrupted you with a soft smile causing you to chuckle softly, looking at him. Which is a mistake because as soon as you looked into his eyes again, all the memories were playing in them, the love you had for him comes racing back, and it's almost like you're stuck while you stare into his beautiful brown honey like eyes. It takes all your strength to pull away from his eyes looking back over his team, squeezing Dave's hand as you do.

“Anyway, Dave helped get me out of that relationship and even supported me when I asked for a transfer to San Francisco, I got a position for captain” Smiling softly as the table all looked mildly impressed. 

“He moved to San Francisco and after a while I got moved to Paris so we once again lost touch” Dave sips his drink as he thinks back, jumping over a few years. He hated the fact he went to Paris, instead of staying in the states where he could be closer to you, he loved you and he was ready to try again but you needed time to heal and life started moving forward and neither of you could stay in the past anymore. 

“I got married to Hayden, but It didn’t work out and I was being reassigned back to the states anyway, I went back to the BAU for a few years before I decided to retire” Dave continues, ignoring the looks his team has been sharing with each other throughout the story.

~~~

“So what happened after you retired, did you two decide to try again?” It was Emily that spoke up this time, everyone knows there is a big part of the story you two are leaving out.

“Not at first, I went travelling and focused on my books for the first couple years, but we stayed in contacted, caught up when we could” Dave smiles as he thinks back to those more happy days, when it was more like catching up with a best friend, who your completely and utterly in love with. 

“One day we caught up and things changed that night, we decided to try again, it was the mid 90’s it was a bit more acceptable then, still not completely safe but we did our best” Leaning back into your chair as you sip on your drink.

“It was the best few years of my life” Dave admits, looking over at you, his eyes once more full of guilt and pain due to the way things ended. 

“Mine too.. But we should have known it wouldn’t have lasted” Taking a sharp breath as you pull your hand out of his, looking away from him, missing the broken look that broke across his face, as you do your best to hide yours. 

“Are we allowed to know why you two broke up?” Morgan asks gently, glancing between them, ignoring the look Hotch is sending him. 

“We broke up due to a few issues, our kid was taken away from us and it caused a lot of problems between us” Your words float out of you like air, the pain and fear floating into your voice. At the sound of the pain in your words all Dave wants to do is lay his hand on your thigh, letting you know that he’s right here, but he knows he can’t do that anymore. 

“Your child?” JJ asks, unable to hide the pain flashing through her eyes, she couldn’t imagine losing Henry.

“Yes, our child, Angel” Dave speaks up, his voice aching as he mentions his name, a part of him he never thought his team would ever know about. Your other hand traces over your tattoo, tracing the angel wings slowly.

“He was my little sister, but she hit hard times and couldn’t raise him anymore, so she asked us to take him in, he was only two when we did, he was a little bundle of joy” Your voice moves from painful to light and happier as you speak. 

“We raised him for 4 years, until people around us decided that two older men had no right raising a kid together” Dave's voice is full of hatred and anger as he lets himself float back to those moments. Without thinking you lay your hand on his lap, rubbing softly to get him to calm down. 

“They took him from us, my job ended up in danger and I ended up disowning my family because of it” Your voice is full of venom, but Dave places his hand on top of yours, almost instantly you lean into him for comfort before stopping yourself.

“Oh my god, that's terrible I'm so sorry” JJ apologies, her heart breaking at the story, everyone goes silent, not at all surprised they couldn’t stay together through all of that.

“My sister managed to get custody of Angel again almost two years after it all, so I could still visit him, Dave unfountuly was no longer around as he had moved away” You skip over the main reason why he left, not needing to revisit that pain. “2005 was the year Angel and my sister unfortunately passed away in a car crash” Your voice breaks as you give them that detail, Dave inhaling sharply as his heart breaks at the memory of receiving that phone call. 

“Oh man, I'm sorry that's rough” Morgan looks at you with empathy, everyone glancing between you and Dave, the chemistry still obvious to everyone but you two.

“It's okay, life happens and at least those two are now together forever” Letting out a soft breath as you sip on your drink.

“Do you have any photos of Angel?” Hotch asks, whos been silent for the night, having already knew most of this information from Rossi's confession. 

“I sure do” Smiling more as you grab your wallet, pulling out the small pile of photos you have in there. Passing it to Aaron who's sitting on your other side, his face lights up as he looks through them, passing them around the table.

While everyone is distracted looking at the photos, Dave leans in closer to you, worried about how you're handling everything.

“Are you okay?” He keeps his voice low as he watches you, his heart skipping a beat when your eyes meet him, your eyes filled with nothing but love as you look down at him.

“I'm good, are you?” You don’t want him to move away, you don’t want him to pull his hand away, missing his physical touch. 

“I’m great, I’m glad they know about you” His eyes burn into yours, already feeling guilty about having to leave tomorrow.

“So am I” Smiling softly, your eyes glancing down at his lips, before your mind can wander you’re called back to the present.

“Dave is that you?” Emily smiles widely as she shows the photo she's holding. Morgan and Reid looking over the girl's shoulder, all looking up at Dave with smiles filled with love.

The photo they're looking at, is one of your favourites, that’s your reasoning as to why you still have a photo of your ex in your wallet. The photo is Dave pushing Angel on the swings, Angel's smile is huge but almost nothing compared to the excitement and love present in Dave's eyes. You love that photo for so many reasons, your boys look adobe and the memory from the day makes you smile even when you're drowning in sadness.

“You still have that photo?” Dave smiles at you, having to hold back the urge to kiss you.

“It was a special day, no way could I lose that photo” Smiling back at him, hating yourself for not giving into your urges and lean into his touches. “I have more at home, all kept safe”

“Good” 

The team all sits in silence, giving each other looks as they watch the looks you two are giving each other, yet you two don’t seem to know how much you both need each other. 

~~~

You excuse yourself to go outside, needing some fresh air. You stand outside leaning against the wall as you finish your smoke, your mind staying on Dave.

“Hey I didn’t realise you smoke” Morgan's voice pulls you from your thoughts, glancing over at him as you take it out. 

“Old habit I guess” Looking up at him with a small smile.

“Fair enough” Morgan smiles, before taking a breath. “You and Rossi really do have one hell of a past, you two kept that quiet”

“We try not to let it affect our job” Forcing a small smile, not knowing exactly where he is taking this.

“I respect that, but here's something I disagree with” Morgan starts.

Your eyes narrow as you watch him, preparing yourself for some homophobic speech you’ve heard oh so many times.

“Which is what?”

“The fact that it's in the past, I see the way you look at him, you still love him and he clearly loves you” Morgan smiles softly, watching as the defensiveness rolls off you, replacing itself with a far away look.

“I may love him but that doesn’t mean it's enough” You’ve always loved Dave, but the past has shown you that keeping you two together isn’t a walk in the park, it's not even a run through a forest at points. 

“But it could be now, come on what could happen if you two try again huh?” Morgan sees the heartbreak in your eyes. “This world is now different and so are you and Dave, you could fear trying and failing again, or you could embrace this chance that's right in front of you two and just go for it” Morgan watches you as he speaks, walking off to leave you thinking about his words.

~~~

When you reenter the building, your eyes first land on Dave, who's at the bar talking with Aaron. You look back over at the table where everyone is standing up, grabbing their phones and wallets. Your heart starts to drop as you realise it's over, no more time to talk to Dave as everyone starts to leave. You head over to the table, saying your goodbys quickly to the team as they make their way out. Aaron and Dave walk over as they see the team leave, Aaron bids you goodbye as he follows his team out, Dave looks at you with a soft smile on his face.

“One more drink?” He asks, pushing through his fear of you saying no.

“Only if it's your shout Dave” Chuckling softly, biting your lip as his eyes light up.

“Oh of course” He chuckles before walking to the bar. You take a seat at the table, your eyes staying fixated on him. Your eyes stay on him as your mind go over Morgans words, ‘Embrace this chance that's right in front of you’ 

Dave makes his way back over to you, sitting beside you, sliding your drink over.

“Thanks” Smiling up at him, knowing it's now or never.

“Anytime” He smirks, looking you over. “I hope it was okay, telling my team our story”

“It was fine Dave” Your name feels like home as it slides off your lips. “But I do have a problem” Sighing slightly, as you look away from him, missing the way his face falls.

“What is it?” Dave ask, his voice full of care and love as he leans over, taking your hand in his. 

“I don’t like the way our story ends” Glancing at your hands, before looking into his. Your eyes are full of hope as you keep talking. “I think it should continue, maybe one more time?” Gulping thickly as you watch him, waiting for a response. His smile grows, love and hope filling his face, 

“I would love that” 

“Good” Grinning more, squeezing his hand, as your other one cups his face, pulling him into a kiss. He is quick to respond, leaning into your touch and kissing back lovingly. 

~~~

The next day, Morgan and Emily are the last to enter the Jet, running late due to shopping. Morgan's eyes scan over the jet, not seeing Rossi as they all settle down.

“Um, where's Rossi? Morgan asks Hotch, everyone eyes glance over at Hotch all of them having hopeful looks in their eyes.

“Oh he’s staying for a few extra days” Hotch smirks back at them all. Everyone's heart fills with happiness as they can figure out what had happened last night after they left.

#criminal minds #david rossi #dave rossi #david rossi x reader #dave rossi x reader #david rossi x male!reader #dave rossi x male!reader #bi dave rossi

[legostars]

DOGDAY X READERS

(This is going to flop anyways.. and I was bored)

<------------------------------------------------>

You were looking for a job, for a long-long time now. You kept applying for jobs but none of them accepted you. (Bro you're just like my mom.)

One day, as you were about to give up hope. An email was sent to you, you took a glimpse and saw that you have been chosen to be an employee of the poppy playtime co. you screamed happily about it. You finally got a job! The email was long to be read, but you read it all just to be sure. At the end of the email, it said that you will be starting tomorrow morning at 6:00 Am in the early of the morning.

--------------------------------------------------

You set your alarm and went to bed, you slowly closed your eyes... And drifted to sleep. The next morning, you woke up from your alarm and set it off. You took a quick shower and ate some early breakfast. (Egg omelette🍳)

You rode on your motorbike (or whatever you ride idc) and drove to the poppy playtime co. a famous toy factory. You were so surprised at how big it is, You went in and was greeted by some employees. One of the employees told you that you have been put to work in playcare orphanage. You were surprised about it, a factory and also an orphanage? Well that's surprisingly cool.

You followed the other employees where they were leading you too (time skip bc I'm lazy as shi-)

You ride on some sort of an elevator, and see the whole entire area of the playcare. You saw an orphanage, a toy shop, a circus tent, a school, and a building for the employees. And in the middle of the playcare area you saw Gigantic statues of eight smiling critters that the employees told you about. They also mention that you will love your new co. Partner.

--------------------------------------------------

At the end of the elevator, some employees gave you the uniform you will be wearing. You put on your uniform, an orange T- shirt with a sun pin and dog ear headband. (You're a dog on a Leash now>:] )

--------------------------------------------------

The employees told you that you might see your co. Partner if you walk around, you nodded and just walked around a little. A child came running to you and hugged you and said "Miss dogday!"

Miss dogday? What on earth is the child talking about? Well, you decided to ignore that and gave the child a pat. "Hi there, kiddo." The child smiled and pulled your hand as she led you somewhere.

"Dogday! Dogday! They're here! They're here!"The child shouted. You were confused as the child shouted the word dogday again, you look towards where the child was looking in a direction and saw, a tall orange dog with a sun pendant. He was like 8 ft. Tall for a dog tho.

"Slow down, kiddo." You chuckled as she led you to dogday. Dogday then turned around to see you, he put on a wide smile and walked towards you and the kid and then bends down. "Alright, Tiffany.. thank you for leading them here." He smiled at the child and gave her a pat on the head as she giggled and ran towards the other children. "Well, I do apologise if the child was dragging you here." He scratched the back of his head and put on a nervous smile. You chuckled and shook your head. "It's fine, really.." You smiled at dogday, you can clearly see his tail wagging, because of it, you let out a small laugh. Dogday smiled as you laughed. "Well, come on angel. I'll give you a short tour of this place" You nodded as you followed dogday.

He showed you around, the school, the orphanage, the toy shop, the play place, the circus, and finally your office and where the other employees are. "Well, that's the end of the tour!"

(I made this during class so I had to continue it tomorrow or next week:P)

PART 2?

<------------------------------------------------>

#dogday x reader #dogday

[quest-for-pluto]

Asterism

Human!Neteyam x Human!Female!Original Character.

← Prev Chapter Index Next →

Summary: He stared at his hands as they hovered in front of his face, tremors running up and down his fingers. His five fingers, not four. And deep, warm brown skin. Not blue.

When Neteyam dies, instead of ending up in Eywa’s promised paradise, he wakes up on an apocalyptic earth, with a strange human girl as his only hope for survival.

Interlude 1: She Has Spoken

Neytiri sat alone in the Sully marui, holding her son's handmade necklace between her fingers. He had crafted it himself at ten years old, after he'd seen his father wearing one.

Only warriors wear necklaces, Jake had smiled at their son, ruffling his braids. You may make one after your first hunt.

Neytiri's lip wobbled as she clutched it close to her chest, exhaling deeply and feeling warm tears blur her vision. She barely noticed his approaching footsteps until her husband laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"It's time," he said softly.

Her chest squeezed painfully at the realization that this was the last time she was going to see her son without visiting Eywa, to touch his face and stroke his hair. "I don't want to go," she choked out. There was not enough air on this planet to soothe the ache in her lungs as they tightened.

Jake sighed deeply through his nose. As he maneuvered around to face her, she observed the small cracks in his normally stoic expression. Glimpses of the true pain and exhaustion he was feeling that he would never let anyone else see.

"Neteyam needs you," he said quietly, reaching up a hand to brush away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. "He needs his mother."

Neytiri closed her eyes, gathering all of her hurt and suffering and stuffing it into a tiny bottle at the back of her mind. She felt a false calmness wash over her, a strength reserved only for her children. She opened her eyes. "He does," she whispered, reaching up to rest her own hand on top of his.

Jake helped her to her feet, leading her to where the body of her eldest son floated on a woven stretcher, his limbs tied together in the traditional fetal position.

The rest of her children plus Spider were already there waiting, keeping the stretcher afloat. She felt a usual spike of resentment and bitterness towards the later, but it was tamped down by the overwhelming sadness of the occasion, and the satisfaction that his father was most likely dead for good now. There were more important things to focus on.

Everyone from the Metkayina clan had gathered in the bioluminescent water, holding flickering torches as they respectfully waited for the funeral proceedings to start. The Olo'eyktan's family stood at the forefront.

Ronal's eyes flickered up as they approached. Her chin dipped in respect. "With your permission," she said. "We will start now."

Neytiri fought the urge to close her eyes and run far, far away. Instead she looked at her husband, both of them nodding in consent.

They wadded carefully into the water, the crowd parting respectfully for them as they came to stand before their son's body. Neytiri took a deep breath.

"Pamtseol ngop ayrenut," she sang. "Mì ronsemä tìfnu, mì hifkey."

(Music creates patterns, in the silence of the mind, as weavers do.)

"Awnga rol fte kivame. Kame fte rivol. Rerol tengkr kerä ìlä fya'o avol ne kxamtseng."

(We see to sing. We sing to see. We sing our way down the eight paths to the center.)

"Aywayl yìm kifkeyä ìheyut avomrr sìn tireafya'o avol, na waytelemä hìng."

(The songs bind the thirteen spirals of the solid world to the eight spirit paths, like the threads of a Songcord.)

Neytiri unclapsed her son's necklace, fastening it around her own neck with a pained heart.

Jake took her hand as they approached Neteyam. Her son's eyes were closed, a peaceful expression smoothing out his features.

"It's okay," Jake said softly, not to one person in particular, but to everyone in the family. As one, they mounted their ilus and began to pull the stretcher with their brother and son further into the vast, glowing waters. Once they got far enough out, they dismounted, treading closer to the stretcher to slide Neteyam's body out of it.

Neytiri choked on a sob as she held her son close for the last time. His hair drifted softly around his head like a halo, his lips slightly parted. Lo'ak rested a hand on his brother's forehead, as if reluctant to let him go.

With deep, shuddering breaths, Neytiri and Jake plunged into the water, each holding either side of their son as they lowered him gently to the glowing coral ground. As soon as the glowing plants tenderly enveloped his body, his parents let go, treading upwards.

That was when something strange happened.

The coral glowed even brighter around their son's form, but instead of disappearing into the plants, his body started to convulse. Small twitches that Neytiri denied at first, and then undeniable, full body convulsions that shifted the coral around him. Neytiri yelped in shock, a few air bubbles escaping her mouth.

The Sully family watched in fascination and disbelief as his chest began to glow from his bullet wound, the hole seemingly starting to close on its own.

With a cry, Neytiri swam back down to her son, narrowly escaping the grab Jake made for her arm. She cradled his body gently in her arms, shaking him urgently. "Neteyam!" She screamed underwater, uncaring of the air escaping her lungs. "Neteyam!"

Just as she felt herself begin to choke, two strong hands grabbed her by the arms, yanking her and her son up to the surface.

"Neteyam!" She coughed, bringing him back to the stretcher and cupping his face. The rest of her family quickly crowded around the stretcher, peering over him with bated breath.

"It's gone..." Jake whispered in wonder from beside her.

Looking down, she gasped in amazement. He was right, the bullet wound that had pierced her son's chest, leaving a small gaping hole, had healed almost completely. The only evidence left behind was a circular, slightly raised scar.

"By Eywa," Neytiri whispered, frantically pressing her ear down over his chest. Sure enough, the steady thump-thump, thump-thump of her son's heartbeat rang clearly in her ear, moved steadily against the skin of her cheek. Her eyes watered as she whimpered from joy, slowly raising herself to stare directly at her wide-eyed husband.

"He's alive," she breathed, voice thick with emotion.

*******

← Prev Chapter Index Next →

Jump to Top ↑

#neytiri sully #avatar 2 #avatar way of water #neteyam #neteyam avatar 2 #neteyam sully #original female character #pandora #tuktirey avatar #metkayina #tuk sully #ronal avatar #loak sully #lo’ak avatar #kiri avatar #kiri sully #spider socorro #miles socorro #spider avatar #jake avatar #jake sully #reincarnation #eywa #funeral #death #neytiri #neteyam x human #neteyam x reader #neytiri avatar #tonowari

[readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure]

An Unexpected Taste of Love: Chapter Seven

Pairing: Darkling x Female Reader

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: You are a servant at the Grand Palace, but when a threat to the Second Army’s General leads to the King assigning him a taster, you are forced into a new role that just may be the starting point for a whole new journey.    

Author’s note: I haven’t read the books but there may be a couple of small references to them that I have picked up from other sources (other fics, the grishaverse wiki, etc). Other than that, this fic is solely based on the TV show version of the Darkling.

Warnings: Near death experience, The Darkling is his own warning

———————————————————

< Chapter Six | Masterlist | Chapter Eight >

Over the next few weeks, testing Alina’s food got easier. Not only did your fear slowly subside with every safe meal you tried, but you found that you quite liked Alina. Your conversations were short, but she was kind and didn’t look down at you for your commoner status, so that was good enough for you. Even her two friends, Marie and Nadia, started treating you better, taking Alina’s lead without even realising it.

All this should have made you happy, but there was one big drawback. It was next to impossible to ignore Alina’s growing closeness to Aleksander.

It was a gradual thing, but with every day that passed, Alina’s conversations drifted away from stories about her friend Mal and changed to questions about Aleksander. You could tell from the look in her eyes that there was a romantic interest there, you had seen the same look plenty of times in the mirror.

At first, you thought that Alina’s interest may have been one sided, that Aleksander’s feelings for her remained professional and nothing more. But then you noticed just how much time they were spending together. Not only was there the Grisha training sessions and the professional conversations, but the two of them started going out for private horse rides in their spare time. They’d get back hours later, each time seemingly closer than before.

And then the late-night visits started.

You knew from the way Alina spoke about them that they were completely innocent, Alina had merely not been able to sleep one night and had come across Aleksander’s rooms, but the thought of her taking the place you had so recently been banished from… well, it hurt like hell.

But despite your heartache, you didn’t hold it against Alina. You didn’t even bear Aleksander any ill will. Alina had so much more to offer him than you did; you couldn’t blame him for choosing her. She was smart, beautiful, powerful and important, and you were… you. A penniless commoner who was so inconsequential, it was literally your job to die for someone else. And not even by fighting for your country or using skills as a guard. You were the human equivalent of a canary being sent down a mineshaft.

Ivan was right, you were nothing. How could you possibly hope to compare to the legendary Sun Summoner who would save the country and change the world?

So you suffered in silence and watched from the sidelines as Alina and Aleksander’s relationship grew into what may as well have been a courtship. Each glimpse of them across the palace grounds and each overheard conversation at dinner felt like a stab to the chest, but you pushed that feeling down and forced yourself to be happy for them. They could be together properly without others judging them. They deserved that. They deserved to be happy without hiding it. And if your heart had to break for that happiness, then it was a small price to pay. Even more so if they brought down the Fold together.

You hadn’t seen Alina’s powers firsthand, but you could tell by her boosted confidence that she was getting closer to her goal. Sometimes that was the only thought that kept you sane, knowing that the war could soon be won.

Not that your life would be much different. You would probably just go back to the Grand Palace. Eventually Ravka’s economy would revive enough for you to have a chance out in the city on your own, but those kinds of changes didn’t happen overnight. Until then, life continued on as normal.

‘Will this be your first Winter Fete, too?’ asked Alina as she waited patiently for you to test her lunch. The dining hall was virtually empty, which meant you were both free to discuss whatever you wished. And with the yearly Winter Fete being just around the corner, it was a hot topic of conversation in the Little Palace. Everybody was busy doing extra training or extra work to prepare the palace for visitors.

You nodded. ‘I’ve always been in the Grand Palace. There’s still heaps of preparations going on there to accommodate the visiting delegates, but most of the action happens here, so I’ve always missed it.’

Truthfully, you were a little disappointed to be stationed at the Little Palace at this time. The Winter Fete was the one night of the year when the Grand Palace was completely empty of royals. You wouldn’t go as far to say that the servants partied in their absence, but liberties were certainly taken. Sometimes, even fun was had.

You doubted the “honour” of serving at the Fete would feel as gratifying. You wouldn’t even be allowed to go outside to enjoy the festivities, as the grounds would temporarily be out of bounds for servants unless their duties demanded they be there.

Maybe Alina would buy some food from one of the stalls, then you would have an excuse to experience at least some of the joviality.

Unfortunately, that was unlikely. She had her own role to play.

‘Are you nervous?’ you asked, referring to the main event of the Fete, where Alina would be showcasing her powers.

Alina shrugged. ‘A little. I’ve never been good with the whole all-eyes-on-me thing.’

That was something you could relate to.

‘I’m sure you’ll be great,’ you said. ‘Just pick something to focus on and ignore everything else.’

A dreamy looked passed over Alina’s face as she smiled to herself. Your stomach twisted as you realised just what, or rather who, she would be focussing on.

You cleared your throat awkwardly and took a sip of her juice to test. The fear of poisoning was still there, but your hands no longer trembled at least. ‘I hear the day festivities are always good,’ you said. ‘Nothing like fairground games and flashy performances to put you in the mood for a show.’

Alina’s smile fell a little. ‘It would be nice, but it has been… suggested that I stay indoors tomorrow. For my own safety.’

‘Oh…’ Now you felt even more awkward. It was moments like this that reminded you that although there were many things you envied Alina for, there was plenty you didn’t. ‘Maybe Nadia or someone could get you something.’

Alina nodded, the sparkle coming back to her eyes. ‘Maybe I should ask Kirigan to go win me a prize from one of those fairground games,’ she said, barely getting the words out before falling into a fit of giggles.

You had to admit the image was an amusing one, even if it did make your heart constrict painfully. ‘He probably wouldn’t even have to play,’ you said, a small smile playing on your lips. ‘He’d just walk up and the vendor would hand the prize straight over.’

That caused another burst of laughter from Alina, and it took a full minute for her to calm down again.

‘Something amusing, Miss Starkov?’ came a voice from behind you, making you startle.

Speak of the Devil.

The last of Alina’s giggles subsided and she looked up over your shoulder. ‘Just discussing tomorrow’s Fete,’ she said, fake innocence in her voice.

Not wanting to witness a conversation that would no doubt be full of doe eyes and subtle flirting, you made your excuses to leave. ‘I just remembered I promised Mina I would help prepare some things for tomorrow.’ You were well aware of how badly you were lying. ‘Enjoy your meal, Miss Starkov.’

You quickly stood from your stool and turned… only to walk straight into Aleksander’s solid figure. You stumbled backwards, the backs of your legs hitting the stool behind you, but two strong hands on your arms stopped you from falling.

You looked up at Aleksander, and for a moment everything was still. It was almost like the last few weeks had never happened and this was just another moment of closeness that you would treasure.

But then reality came crashing back to you and you looked down awkwardly. ‘Apologies, General,’ you said. ‘I wasn’t watching where I was going.’

When he didn’t answer, you looked back up at him, trying not to focus on how the heat from his hands was seeping through your sleeves and how you wished it was on your bare skin.

‘My fault,’ he said at last. ‘I got too close.’

He seemed to be lost in his own head, an unreadable emotion in his eyes, but then he blinked and it was gone. He cleared his throat and stepped away from you, back to being the proper General everyone expected him to be.

You scolded yourself for wishing he had held you just a few moments longer.

You nodded your acknowledgment of his almost-apology and hurried out the room as fast as you could. You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back however, just before you reached the door. Aleksander had seemingly already moved past your moment, already talking to Alina with all the doe eyes and subtle flirting that you had predicted.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you turned away. If you had thought you were getting over Aleksander, today had proven you very wrong.

----

The next morning, you woke from dreams that blended memory with fantasy. Dreams of Aleksander’s hands on your thighs and his breath at your ear as he whispered sweet words to you.

It seemed that the moment at lunch had set you back even more than you had realised.

With that in mind, you decided you needed a distraction, and the sounds of laughter and music coming from just outside the palace was too tempting to ignore, rules be damned.

So, after you had tested Alina’s breakfast and had had your own, you went back to your rooms and switched your white dress for a brown one. It was one of only two non-servant outfits you owned and the only one without patches, so it would have to do. Judging by what you had seen from the windows, it wasn’t too different from what most people at the Fete were wearing, so you figured you would blend in.

The servants’ quarters being at the back of the palace worked to your advantage, and you didn’t see a single person as you snuck out onto the grounds. Once outside, it was easy to pass yourself off as just another person perusing the many stalls.

You had little to no money to spend, so you mainly just window shopped, but there was plenty of free entertainment going on. All in all, it was just what you needed; a moment to forget Aleksander and Alina and even your whole life as a servant. You could easily picture yourself winding up working at a market like this had your village not been raided all those years ago. Maybe you would have even met a man and created a home of your own.

You frowned when you realised that the thought was not as alluring as it should have been. Sure, you wanted a home to call your own, but you could not picture yourself happy with just any man. Not anymore.

You shook your head, stopping those thoughts in their tracks. This outing was supposed to be a distraction from Aleksander.

You walked over to the next stall, forcing yourself to focus on the beautiful, if simple, handmade jewellery. A colourful woven bracelet had just caught your interest when you saw a flash of white and red out of the corner of your eye. Genya.

And if Genya was here, then that meant…

Yep, there was Alina as well. They must have snuck out as well.

You turned your head away as they passed, hoping they wouldn’t notice you. You were sure neither of them would berate you for sneaking out, even if they weren’t guilty of the same thing, but you weren’t really in the mood for their company.

Thankfully, they barely even looked in your direction, too focussed on the festivities, but even after they moved on, you found that your mood had soured.

So much for distracting yourself.

With a sigh, you decided that being outside was no longer worth the risk, and you made your way back inside, head down and dejected. Maybe you should offer to help Mina and the other servants prepare for the party. There was surely enough to do to keep your mind occupied.

If you had looked up at the palace windows as you passed, you would have seen a black-clad figure watching you, guilt and longing in his eyes.

#darkling x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan #the darkling x female reader