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#i love you and i believe in you and there is nothing stopping you from accomplishing everything you set out to be
nereidprinc3ss · 2 days
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strange perfections
in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!
fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses
The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 
Stupid scarf, you think. 
Stupid door. 
Stupid wind. 
Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 
You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 
Stupid Lord Byron. 
Stupid cafe. 
Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 
One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 
Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 
Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 
Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 
Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 
As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 
It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 
Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 
“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 
“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”
The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 
“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”
You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 
Think of something normal to say!
“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”
You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.
“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”
You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?
“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”
He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 
“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”
Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?
But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 
“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”
He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 
All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 
Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 
“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 
“How did you do that?” 
His cheeks turn slightly pink. 
“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”
“How did you read that fast?”
“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”
You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 
“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”
The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 
“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”
Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 
“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”
“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 
“Does that make it better?”
“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”
You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 
“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 
“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”
“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”
He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 
He was totally in love with me. 
And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 
All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 
The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 
I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 
What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 
“Hi,” he says. 
“Hi!”
Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 
He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 
Spencer. Spencer. 
It feels important. 
“I see you’ve upgraded.”
“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”
“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”
“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 
Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 
Spence. 
Reality sets in. 
“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”
It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 
“I am a creature of habit.”
Another wave as he walks away. 
The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 
“Who was that?” 
“Uh… I don’t actually know.”
Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 
Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 
Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 
Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.
But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 
He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 
This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 
“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”
 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 
Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 
“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”
You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?
While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 
“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 
“Uh… hi?”
“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”
“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”
That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 
“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”
“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”
“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”
What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—
“Garcia!”
Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 
Adorable? Get a grip. 
“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”
“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 
You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?
“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.
“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”
“Yeah! Um, definitely!”
“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”
“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”
“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 
Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 
So that’s cool. 
You’re cool with that. 
Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 
“Hotch?”
“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 
“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 
Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 
You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 
Nah. Boys are dumb. 
You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 
It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?
But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 
He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 
Weird.
You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?
“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”
It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 
He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 
“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”
“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”
“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”
“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”
He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 
“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”
It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 
“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”
“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”
Your brow furrows and you laugh. 
“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”
“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”
You say it before you can think too hard. 
“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”
And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 
After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 
One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.
It ceases. And then it starts again. 
Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 
“Do you think you should…”
His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 
“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”
You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 
But his job is important. 
“What if you have a case?”
“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”
Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   
“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”
As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 
“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”
Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 
You balk.
“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”
“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”
“Where would this hanging out take place?”
Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 
“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”
He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 
“Restaurants.”
There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.
“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”
You look down. God, your face feels warm. 
“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”
Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 
“I would.” 
More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 
Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 
“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”
“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”
Spencer chuckles. 
“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”
Not, what?
Not, you’ve never been on a date before?
Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?
With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 
He says none of that. 
“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 
“Sounds like a good first step.”
Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 
“Will you go on a date with me?”
Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.
“I’d love to.”
He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 
“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”
His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 
“I should—”
“You definitely need to go.”
“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”
You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 
“I don’t—”
“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”
He’s so weird. 
A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 
879 notes · View notes
luveline · 21 hours
Note
Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3
ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k
“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 
“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 
“I understand, but–”
“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 
You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?
“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 
The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 
“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 
You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 
“Did you call them?” 
Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 
Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 
“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 
You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 
Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 
“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 
You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 
“We really don’t have time to waste.” 
“I know, but my blood sugar–”
She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”
“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”
“Clearly not!” 
“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 
The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 
You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 
If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. ��Yes, I think so, too.” 
Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 
“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 
He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 
He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 
“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.
“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 
He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 
In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 
You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 
“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 
“No,” you say apologetically. 
“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 
Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”
“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”
“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.
“How did you get so low?” he asks.
“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 
“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 
“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 
“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 
“Don’t know,” you mumble. 
Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 
He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 
You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 
By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 
You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 
“I understand.” 
You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.
He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 
“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 
He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 
“What do I get in return?” 
He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 
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hannieehaee · 22 hours
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18+ / mdi
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content: newbf!vernon, based off this quote, appearance from some svt members, afab reader, smut(?), suggestive, etc.
wc: 1848
a/n: this is such an odd premise but it caught my attention so yeah<3
masterlist
"i dont get the joke," seungkwan cocked his head to the side in a questioning manner.
"yeah, april fool's was last month?," added joshua.
"there's no joke. we're dating."
even as you and vernon found yourselves cuddled up on the couch, – in a manner only a couple would intertwine with each other – your friends seemed unimpressed by the mere suggestion of the two of you dating.
"so you've been besties for twelve years and suddenly you're dating? no warning, no nothing? not very believable", answered mingyu, staring at you in nothing short of annoyance.
"why is this so surprising? you guys knew that i had a crush on her," argued vernon, feeling a bit annoyed at the way all his friends were currently staring him down. meanwhile, you appeared to be completely chill as you nuzzled into his side, watching videos on his phone and ignoring the conversation altogether.
"i just don't buy it."
"yeah, i don't get the joke, but i'm not falling for it."
"she's out of your league anyway."
seungkwan, seungcheol and jeonghan all expressed their sentiments to vernon as he groaned in frustration, unable to understand why it was so difficult to accept that he had finally grown the balls to ask you out. alas, he gave up as his friends grew distracted by something else, opting to go back to watching cat videos with you on his phone.
this was a brand new change in your dynamic, so maybe it'd be hard to grasp at first. but it was fine. vernon didn't need his friends to acknowledge his relationship in order to make it real. he'd simply continue to love on you like he'd been doing since you accepted to be his girlfriend, damning any denials from his friends.
~
acting unaffected by his friends' constant refutals of his new relationship proved to be harder than vernon had first anticipated. they'd gone above and beyond to attempt and disprove your relationship, claiming that it simply didn't make any sense.
any time you posted a picture with vernon it'd get spammed with comments from all twelve boys declaring the falsehood of your relationship.
jeonghanieyoon: booo 🍅
joshuacoustic: drop the fake bf and date me instead 😘
dk_is_dokyeom: ok u guys are starting to look believable 🧐
sometimes they'd even respond to vernon's stories about you and slide in his dms just to call him a dumbass for attempting to make this 'a thing' when it was clear you two were lying.
from: pledisboos - stop being a coward and ask her out for real
from: feat.dino - clearly fake. try harder next time!
in retrospect, maybe vernon only had himself to blame for this. after years of liking you, he never once gave any indication of attempting to leave the friendzone. his friends had all given up on hyping him up to confess to you years ago, leaving his crush as a dormant subject of conversation. it was quite sudden how you and vernon ended up together, and your dynamic hadnt changed too much, so your upgrade from friends to lovers was likely not noticeable to the naked eye.
however, this did not excuse the damned booing vernon had to endure any time the two of you walked into a room hand-in-hand. it also did not excuse jeonghan and mingyu's continuous flirting with you – they were doing it to prove a point, they said. and the most frustrating aspect of it all was how nonchalant you were about it all, always giggling along with his friends and never backing vernon up when he'd try and argue with them.
this was quite out of character for vernon. his demeanor had always been extremely chill and laid back, never one to be bothered by any outside forces (much less his dumb friends). you, however, were not helping manners in any way. you found the whole situation funny, telling vernon not to stress over it as you giggled over how passionate both vernon and his friends were about such a benign subject.
so, vernon gave up. he guessed that since you found the running gag about your 'fake' relationship amusing rather than frustrating (as he did), then he would just leave it alone. he was never one for pda anyways, so attempting to prove his relationship to his friends was kind of like beating a dead horse.
what vernon forgot to consider, however, was how nosy his friends were.
when it was time for all fourteen of you to spend the week at mingyu's beach house, he had let his guard down far too much, leading to a situation he'd like to consider both a win and a loss.
despite the sheer size of the beach house, housing fourteen people proved to be quite a difficult task, meaning that roommates were a must. with six rooms, everyone was separated into twos, with two rooms containing one extra roommate each. you and vernon always paired up together with no questions asked, except this time you were teased and mocked as you settled into your rooms, all while they assigned you chan as an extra roommate with the sarcastic intent of him keeping an eye on the two of you – "just want to make sure you don't get down to any funny business," had sad dokyeom in a mocking tone.
it was quite common for everyone but vernon to go out and play some badminton or basketball during these types of outings. he just wasnt a sports guy, and he was well loved despite his lack of participation. you'd occasionally join the guys, but would mostly hang back with vernon, which was what happened this time around. usually, you'd simply lounge around and watch a movie, but now that you were finally together, vernon decided to make better use of your alone time.
"are you sure we should be doing this?", you pulled away with a heavy breath, tilting your head back so vernon's lips could trail down your neck.
"it's fine, baby. they're all busy. they don't even believe we're dating, so they probably just think we're watching a movie," he explained as his hands attempted to get you to sit on his lap.
you didn't seem to need convincing as you slid over onto his lap, allowing his hands to guide your hips against his own. even through the pajamas you were wearing, he was sure you could feel his hardness under you.
"fuck, you're so fucking warm," he murmured as his hands went under your shirt, feeling up your warm skin and throwing it off in the process.
his lips went back to yours, groaning against you as your hips sped up against his own. easily frustrated, he laid you down, bringing down his pants and boxers to his mid thigh and leaving you in just your panties, adjusting his hardness so it'd grind itself perfectly against your clothed folds. the wetness seeping from your panties drove him insane with desire, but he couldn't stop grinding into you, growing easily obsessed with the stimulation. his lips had made their way back to your own, groaning endlessly against them while your hands pulled at his hair in a way that made his eyes cross.
"hmm, nonnie ..." you'd murmur every so often, making his resolve break little by little.
"fuck, is this okay, baby? just- wanna make you cum like this. i'll fuck you, i promise. just feel so fucking good like this," he groaned as you licked into his mouth, refusing to entertain any amount of separation.
eventually he reached down to your tits, tonguing at them like a starved man in search of his next meal. he was shameless in his desire for you, having wanted you for far too long and finally having you all to himself. no other thought occupied his mind at the moment. the touch and sight of your pretty body under his own was all his brain had the capacity of entertaining.
which was how neither of you noticed the boy suddenly intruding the scene, screaming in absolute shock at the nasty sight in front of him.
"oh my god?! you weren't lying?!"
what was even more unfortunate was how chan's yelling immediately alerted the rest of the members (or at least the nosier ones), leading to the door being filled by about seven spectators within seconds.
the only fortunate thing about the situation had been how fast vernon's protective instincts over you took over, covering you up with a blanket the moment he saw chan enter the room, preventing all the nosy men from having a peek at the nudity only vernon was allowed to see (and apparently chan too, as vernon had not noticed his presence until after the fact).
however, even as he covered you up, he left himself completely bare, having to take on all their shocked commentary whilst fully nude, barely able to pull up his boxers a few moments into their intrusion.
"no way, you're actually dating?!"
"either that or they took this joke a little far ..."
"man, channie's gonna be jacking off to this for ages."
"how the fuck did you score her??"
"do you guys want a third?"
these were only a few of the comments thrown at you and vernon within the first twenty seconds of the guys' presence in your room. however, to vernon it felt like a whole hour of scrutiny before he finally shook the shock off and began yelling at them to leave.
"get the fuck out! and never look at my girlfriend again!", he got up and began pushing them out as a few of them giggled at his anger whilst some others remained in shock at the situation.
in the meantime, you had pulled up the blanket over your head as you sat crisscross on the bed, likely too bashful to face the situation until your friends took their leave.
once vernon closed and locked the door, grabbing a pillow and throwing it outside for chan (who would not be allowed back in, by the way), vernon sped to your side, uncovering you, fully worried that you might be mad or petrified at what had just happened. to his surprise, you began laughing the moment you first made eye contact, causing vernon to furrow his eyebrows in question.
"baby, what the fuck? you find this funny?", he wasn't mad, but more so extremely confused.
"you got want you wanted, nonnie. there's no way to deny we're dating now," you grinned, crawling to sit on his lap again.
"god, i take it back. i'll never be able to fuck you again in peace. i was just about to cum, too."
"'was'?", you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning in closer, "you don't wanna anymore?", you tilted your head in fake curiosity.
"i mean-"
"they already know we're fucking. might as well have fun with it. right, nonnie?", you grinned.
chuckling at you, he couldn't help but agree with your horny logic. his boner was still half-there anyways.
"c'mere, baby."
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things about about TSC I can't stop thinking about
"hindsight was a backstabbing bitch"
curtains symbolizing jeans healing journey, how he keeps them closed at Abby's in a effort to recreate the nest in search of some normalcy, how he opens them and looks out the window his new apartment, seeking calm in his overwhelm
"I want to go home" (13) meaning evermore vs. "I want to go home" (329) meaning to his apartment with Laila, Cat and jeremy
the fact that jean's phone is probably still in Abby's freezer
Kevin "their kindness matters" Day
Neil's smile is as unsettling to everyone else as it is to him and he has so much more Nathaniel in him than he recognizes in his own pov
Jean is so similar to neil in that they're both petty, dramatic bitches who care deeply about their teammates' safety
riko and the ravens quite literally took jean's name from him (Jean-Yves, Jonny, Paris)
"[Renee's] love was so tender it looked like grief as it curled her mouth and made her eyes shine"
jean gets forehead kisses from Renee and Cat
"that creepy little goalkeeper Andrew Minyard"
jean's many nicknames for neil: tiny bastard, tedious malcontent, abominable cockroach, wretched little runaway, ignorant child, etc.
Neil took the bandage off of jeans 3 and promptly stuck it over Kevin's chess peice
"I should have let him kill you," Jean said. "Probably," Neil agreed, "but you didn't, so here we all are."
"...aside from his outstanding murder charge, there was nothing interesting about that fox"
the fact that the point of tfc was to show characters who couldn't/wouldn't/ or were unable to heal from the trauma they had faced and yet from the very beginning and without question, TSC is about jean clawing his way forward and toward healing no matter what
the cheese drawer
dadmack dialed up to 1,000 See: "i will burn this house down before I let them touch you"
bisexual jean Moreau panicking over his teammates in swimsuits and Jeremy's long legs
"He's earned the right to be arrogant"
riko couldn't bring himself to hurt wymack because he was Kevin's father and Kevin was like a brother to riko and riko has always yearned for a father's recognition
Alvarez has a motorcycle and jean didn't say no to learning how to ride it
we know next to nothing about Jeremy Knox despite having chapters in his pov (why was he in therapy? why was his dad in France? what the hell did he do at the Fall banquet his freshman year to tear his family in half?)
that being said: Jeremy Knox is a rich boy with a butler
everything about Catalina Alverez
the fact that Jeremy knox has two brothers and one of them is probably dead
"rather than force the Trojans underground for that part, they simply built steps up and over it inside the stadium" the JUXTAPOSITION
Alvarez cooks and so now does jean
we know for a fact riko subjected Kevin to "subtler cruelties" while he was in the nest
"they never should have said yes when you asked" and "I didn't ask"
"as if you can tell a girl apart from a cow on a good day"
"permission to break his face, coach?" jean asked. "denied," white said.
all of thanksgiving pt. II
"alarm looked wrong on a face born for smiling"
jean casually saying "your apologies are as useful as perfume on a frog" to Lucas
Neil's whole relationship with Jean
David "I believe we all have the choice to be better than the hands that shaped us" Wymack
Neil generally being a menace to society but especially "Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to it's front bumper and said, 'thats illegal, just so you know.'"
"the cracking heat in his chest could have been his ribs snapping or his heart breaking"
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utterlyotterlyx · 3 days
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The Fox and The Fawn
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High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel
Part Five
Summary - After an intense meeting at the boarder, Eris and Lucien return home tight lipped and unwilling to ruin the night, and you discover something you thought was impossible.
Warnings - angst, fluff, Rhys being a grade A prick, our favourite found family back at it again, drinking, mentions of sex, some Eris background, Lucien being a meddler, a little trip down memory lane
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four
HAPPY 600! 🥳
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Be careful.
Eris would ensure he was. For you, he would contain his fiery rage, he would conform himself to the mask he had to wear around those from the Night Court. He would do anything to make sure he returned home to you.
Part of him was glad that Lucien had coaxed him away the moment he had secured you inside Fir Manor in the arms of Nesta and Elain, if he saw those rounded eyes of worry, he was sure that he may not have been able to walk away from you.
Sweat coated his brow as his weight crunched at the leaves and fallen branches beneath his feet. Of course Rhys had chosen to meet where Autumn met Winter, Kallias cared little when the High Lord of the Night Court would prowl onto his lands, and Rhys wouldn't dare to stand in Summer or Spring after what he and his Inner Circle had done to both of those courts.
The air had turned cold and the ground frozen a few miles back, the cold shrill of Winter swarmed around Eris and Lucien, and they were glad that they had made the smart decision to shroud themselves in their fur lined coats for what was sure to be a frosty meeting indeed. Though, Eris was glad that he had chosen the Winter boarder to say his piece, it meant that he was as far as possible away from you.
They had winnowed most of the way, hounds in tow bar Willow who had refused him to stay with you, coiling up on the porch and watching her master disappear into the forest. Lucien had groaned when they had landed at the foot of a rather large hill lined with an array of snow-kissed trees, Eris had smirked at the sound but willed his brother onward.
"Promise me that you won't let him get under your skin." There was still an ocean full of unspoken words between the two brothers, ones that voiced Eris’ regret and longing, that voiced all of guilt and desire to make things right.
In a way, it was easier for him to convince Lucien of his true nature now that they had something in common bar their looks, it was the shared need to protect you, to let you grow into your own person and watch on as you drove down your own path.
Eris frowned softly, he couldn't exactly blame Lucien for thinking that such a thing was possible, he hadn't exactly played the role of a loving brother or male in general. "I won't, Lucien. There is nothing he could say or offer to make me even consider it." That being handing you back over to the Night Court.
It wasn't something that he needed to say, neither of them wanted to even think about it as they continued upward.
"I know that you have no reason to trust anything I say after everything I've done to you," Lucien fell to Eris' side and glanced sidelong at him, not knowing what was coming next, "But I hope you can believe me when I say that I won't let any harm come to her. I have abided by every decision she has made, all I wish for is her happiness. I want her to grow and build her own life. All I can do is gently nudge her in the direction she is hesitant to follow, but I would never make her do anything she didn't wish to."
There was a pause, a comfortable silence as Lucien came to a certain realisation and grinned, "You feel something for her, don't you?" Eris felt the heat rise to his cheeks, the cold of the air making the redness more prominent on them, Lucien laughed, "I knew it from the moment you fought me to sit next to her at that dinner," his smile faltered and he stopped walking, he examined his brother, the one whose entire façade faltered the moment he noticed that you were around, "After everything that's happened, y/n deserves a chance to find her own passions away from the influence of anyone."
"I know that-"
"I wasn't finished," Lucien rolled his eyes and continued the ascent, passing Eris who trailed him by a step, "Despite everything, I do believe that she's better off here, with you. It's like you see her like how Nesta, Elain and I do but in a slightly different way, you see her in the way she deserves to be seen, in the most candid and gentle way possible," Lucien looked to Eris with understanding, "She deserves that, to be seen and understood and listened to, to be involved in every conversation, to be able to show everyone who she really is.”
The conversation died at the exact moment when the Vanserra brothers reached the apex of the mound, spotting the three Illyrians through the break in the trees that coiled around their figures, as if in warning to stay far far away.
The mask.
Right.
Rolling his shoulders, Eris was ashamed to drown his soul in the brutal essence which he often forced himself into, and he never wanted you to see just how bad it could be. Whisps of his breath floated from his lips, curling upward and freezing in the air.
"Thank you for waiting. Lucien couldn't keep up," the namesake scoffed in response as the pair approached the boarder, thanking the Mother of that intact shimmer which told them that the wards very much still up, and very strong. Eris folded his arms over his chest, finding the nearest tree and leaning on its rough bark before drawling, "You got me here, Rhys. Better start talking."
It was clear that Rhys was on the brink of losing his sanity, his eyes were cold and distant, more onyx than their usual violet hue, his wings were furled around his sides, and Lucien nor Eris could tell if he meant them to be intimidating. He appeared to them dishevelled, messy black hair, a certain paleness to his skin, an unhinged glare in his eye.
"I appreciate you taking the time to meet with us," he motioned to Azriel and Cassian, the latter of which looked more broken than Lucien had ever seen him, no doubt reeling in the loss of his mate, "I hope we don't keep you for long."
"Tell me what you want, Rhys. I don't have time for pleasantries," Eris plucked an invisible thread from the stitching of his coat and looked toward the High Lord.
The fake politeness was doing little to convince Eris of anything other than that Rhys surely was the most manipulative male he had ever come across, he stole that crown right from Beron's decaying corpse.
Resisting a snarl, Rhys exhaled deeply, unclenching his fists as he began a perfectly practiced speech, "My sister is not quite herself at the moment, I fear that she has made the wrong decision in residing in your court, her mental state has always been rather brittle," he took a step toward the boarder, his toes kissing the edge of that shimmering glare, "Give her back to us so that I can ensure that she receives the proper care."
"If y/n desires to return to the Night Court then she can, I'm not stopping her from doing whatever she wishes," Eris replied flatly, completely unphased to the words that were making his blood boil in his veins, did Rhys really have the gall to suggest that you were insane?
Azriel spoke then, realising that there was no realm of possibility where Eris would willingly give you back, "You stole her from the Day Court. Some would call it war-inducing."
There it was, the threat, Eris smiled, "Is that what you want? Another war?"
"I will do whatever is necessary to ensure her safe return to her home court."
Lucien moved to Eris' side, his muscles contracting with anger, "The Night Court is no longer her home," his voice was stoic and unnerving, his gaze daggered between the three Illyrians, "Eris did not steal her, she decided with her own strength to walk away from you, and she is already better for it."
Then, Rhys grinned, his power rattling against the wards around the Autumn Court, "I think you'll find, Lucien, that y/n belongs to me, she is property of the Night Court, her blood is a powerful tool that we can use to solidify our line. Since she is unmated, with no claim to her hand, it does mean that as long as she breathes, she is mine."
The words were a statement, and Rhys' voice did not falter. It was an old tradition, one marred in hatred and sadness. You were the daughter of a High Lord, and when he died, the archaic responsibility of marrying you into a suitable line fell to Rhys.
"I do suggest that you hand her over, I would hate to decimate your court, Eris. Especially when you've been working so hard to rectify the tyranny of your father," Rhys' hand drifted over his heart in mock sympathy.
There was no way in Hel that Eris would ever do such a thing, and he knew that there was no easy way for Rhys to willingly wage war on another court after what Prythian had only begun fully recovering from.
It was risky, but he couldn't let Rhys think he had him pinned to the frozen dirt like a snow fox to a bunny, "Rally your armies then, Rhysand, because there's no reality that exists where I would ever hand her over to you," then a feline smirk consumed his face, he ran his hand through his hair of fire and struck hard, "It seems to me that you only wish for her return so that no one learns what she is capable of. I intend to let her find out, and perhaps when the others realise too, of her story and what you've done, we may have High Queen on our hands."
Darkness exploded from him, his arms elongated into talons, his wings grew and creaked at the stretch like leather, he roared, an inhuman sound that sent shivers prickling down Eris and Lucien's spines; and even Azriel and Cassian had to step back with wide eyes at the sight of it.
Bingo.
With a graceful bow, Eris turned on his heels, beckoning his growling hounds whose hackles had raised to the skies, "I wish you a safe journey home, Rhysand. Send Feyre our collective regards," he called over his shoulder, not even flinching at the roar that flew threw the air.
They had what they wanted, the reason for Rhys' insistence, he knew that you had the power within you to be granted the highest honour of their world, and he had worked his entire existence to stop that from happening.
If Rhys wanted a war, then that's what he would get. Eris would rain hellfire over Prythian, and he knew for a fact that you would stand beside him smiling the entire time.
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Eris and Lucien couldn't have been more relieved to be back at Fir Manor, the warmth of the estate shook their frozen bones back to life and they bristled off the jagged edges left by the words exchanged with Rhys.
Stones clunked together under their feet, but a hand on his arm stopped Eris moving to the house that was glowing with the essence of you. Golden light emitted from the windows and kissed the cobbled path before it, and girlish laughter drifted from the open windows along with the most divine smell.
"Before we go back in, I have to ask you something," Eris tensed and turned to his brother, his hair was unbound down the back of his fur coat, his mechanical eye surveyed him inquisitively, "Did you mean what you said back there? You'd go to war for her?"
Eris could had scoffed at the question, he removed his arm from his brothers grip and turned to the manor, smiling at the sight of you, Nesta, and Elain all dancing before the window, the neck of a wine bottle in your fingers and a sweet melody falling from your lips. Elain was cradling Willow in her arms who looked thrilled to be involved whilst Nesta had her own arms wound around your waist.
"Would you go to war for Elain?"
"Without question."
The sound of Eris' message being received was enough, but he spoke, "I have a feeling it won't come to that though. Call it a hunch."
Lucien hummed, not quite sure of what Eris meant, but followed after him as he paced down the path and up the porch steps, flinging the door open and grinning at your startled state as you fumbled to hide the wine bottle behind your back, "You're back," you whispered to him, the strap of your form fitting green dress falling over your shoulder which you didn't move to lift as you gazed at him.
His face was prickled with cold, his cheeks flush from walking into the heated manor from the wild winter winds; Eris shrugged off his coat and lay the garment over the arm of one of the armchairs of the seating area, pulling his sleeves up to expose his forearms, "I'm back."
"I'm here too, just in case anyone wanted to know," Lucien all but rolled his eyes at you as he passed, pressing his lips to Elain's forehead who fell into his embrace with Willow still firmly swaddled to her body, "Who's been cooking? I could smell it from outside," he delved deeper into the house despite Elain's scolding telling him that dinner wasn't ready yet.
Nesta followed the pair with a groan, taking the bottle of wine from behind your back and muttering something about saving the meal from Lucien's paws, leaving you and Eris alone.
Fiddling with your fingers, you took a step toward him, noticing a strand of his hair fall over his face and watching as his fingers moved to rake it back, such a thigh-clenching thing to witness. "How was it?"
"It was fine," his eyes still held a cold glare to them, one that was waning the longer it was fixated upon you, "We got what we needed."
"Which was?”
The nerves radiating from you were making even Eris feel nervous, he tiled his head to the side and took a step closer to you, his hands at his sides, "Not worthy enough to talk of now. Let's have tonight as a newly formed found family, and tomorrow, we can talk. I'll tell you everything you want to know."
Another step forward was taken by you, the hem of your dress swaying at the motion. You were so close to him that he could feel your warmth seep into his bones, so close that his cold breath made your own cheeks flush red.
It felt natural, to close the gap and fling your arms around him, to bury your face into his chest and deeply inhale his scent like you needed that to know that he had come back to you. There was a single beat where Eris just stood there frozen to the ground, but he slowly ran his fingers up your sides until one of them rested around your waist and the other cradled the back of your head, his nose rested atop of you, his lips ghosting at your hairline.
"I was worried," you admitted, squeezing him closer, thinking that if you didn't tell him that then he would think you weren't appreciative of the position he was now in.
Eris chuckled, it was low and rough, swirls of fire danced around your figures and his thumb rubbed small circles into the back of your neck, "You can't be rid of me that easily, Fawn."
The scampering of steps made you pull back from him, and he yearned to hold you again without a care about who would see and what they would say. Lucien entered the room once more holding a beautifully decorated cupcake in his hand, a raised brow on his face and fighting a smirk once he noted your closeness, "These cakes are amazing, y/n."
"Thank you, Lucien," you swayed back and forth on the balls of your feet, your eyes drowsy with drunkenness.
"I sent for dinner for your three, why are you cooking?" Eris asked, confused, only a fool would turn down food from the Autumn Court chefs.
Nesta shrugged, plopping herself down on one of the deep rooted chairs, licking her fingers free from icing, "Elain sent them away, says she can do better."
"Which you're now all ruining thanks to her cakes," Elain's hands were on her hips and she pointed to you, her apron was coated in flour, her hair was strewn up and messy, and it was clear that she was busy cooking before you and Nesta had pulled her from the kitchen to dance, "They are rather lovely, y/n. You should be thrilled."
Eris' heart fluttered as you turned to him, a hopeful glint in your eye, "Would you like to try one? I think you'd like them," he couldn't speak, he couldn't find the words really.
The firelight made you look ethereal, the golden flames danced in the glistening pools in your eyes, so pristine that he could see himself in them, "I'm afraid that I don't have much of a sweet tooth," your smile faltered, "I'm sorry."
The gaze he felt on his face was enough to make him warm the blood in warning to its owner, Lucien coughed, red faced and watering eyes and you turned to him with worry before he strained the words, "Sorry, crumb," a lie.
"Okay," you whistled, not at all noticing the silent daggers drifting between the two Vanserra brothers, which was odd considering how observant you usually were, perhaps it was the wine floating to your head.
Maybe you were letting your guard down and didn't feel the need to be watching everyone anymore.
Eris watched you retreat into the kitchen with Elain, waiting until you were out of view before he readied himself for Lucien, "I cannot remember a time when you denied yourself a dessert."
"Things change."
"Not with you they don't," Lucien stared after his mate, his eyes full of love and desire, full of possibility and thoughts of the future.
When the news had spread of Lucien and Elain's mating, Eris was truly happy for them, out of everyone he knew his brother was the one most deserving of that happiness, of that type of love. Eris couldn't say the same for himself, he didn't think he deserved any light after the things he had done, after the atrocities he had inflicted over the course of his existence. Having a mate was something he could never allow himself to dream of, everything he touched turned to ask, his fire and mask too cold to allow anyone close enough.
Eris had depleted his worth, he never let anyone touch him, he would cower from it like a wounded animal. Even when he laid with the courtesans, their time together was restricted to just sex, no kissing, no holding one another, just unsatisfying sex that made him bathe in self-loathing whilst his partner relished in the feeling of being fucked by fire.
There was always a part of him that felt unworthy, his father had gone as far to tell him so, multiple times. Every touch sent him spiralling into memories, ones of mutilation and marring, but when you had touched him, when you had wrapped your arms around him and held him close, he didn't feel the need to shrink away or unwind you from his body. All he wanted to do was keep you there forever, and that, that was something remarkable on its own.
You may have been Prythian's darkest secret, but he found you to be the only thing worth fighting for.
His salvation.
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It wasn't long after dinner that you had disappeared from view.
It didn't take Eris long to embark on his search from you, excusing himself from the table that had long since gone quiet without your teasing stories of your upbringing and playdates with the High Lord beside you.
Eris didn't think that you would remember your visits to Autumn when you were a child, thinking that you were too young to retain the memories that he had held onto tightly. You were such an innocent little thing back then, and he remembered his wonderment when you had seen the orange ring in your eyes, displaying his own fire to compare the two and enjoying the sound of your giggles far too much.
He was sure that there was talk of a union between the two of you, he remembered the hushed whispers and beaming smiles of pride as both sets of parents gazed at the two of you playing in the corner with Lucien and Rhys adjacent. Though, neither of your brothers could steal your attention away from the other.
It was what he had held onto all of those years apart, in the moment when the light began to dim and the abuse began to accelerate, in the times when he wondered where you had gone. There were gaps in his mind, like memories had been stolen and locked elsewhere because he couldn't truly remember the last time he had seen you before the time he had caught a glimpse of your wingless figure wandering the halls Under The Mountain.
Eris wandered down the halls of the manor, following your scent that clung to the walls, absentmindedly pondering where exactly he would place a portrait of you in the vast home.
The sound of gentle whimpers entered his earshot and he stopped in his tracks, turning his head to the side to listen harder. He knew that the whimpers were coming from you, they weren't scared ones, but ones of pain, and his heart raced in his chest at the mere thought of you being in any form of pain under his roof.
Knocking softly on the door to your room, his old room, the grandest chamber in the entire manor, he waited patiently and listened to the shuffle of your feet and the soft padding of your companion before the door opened to reveal your strained features and a certain hound peeking around the wood, "You left."
Turning from him, you winced, leaving the door open enough for him to let himself inside, "I get these knots under my scars, it feels like I'm being stabbed, and I just need a minute when it starts."
Eris had heard of it, of the pain residing in the bones and muscles of clipped Illyrian females, sometimes so severe that they believe a new pair are pushing their way through the marred crescent moon scars, and breaking a little when they realised that it wasn't the case.
"It's been happening more recently, I think it might be stress related," you huffed out a laugh. It wouldn't be surprising, you had gone through enough to have permanent knots twisting at your shoulders, "Mor or Azriel usually tend to them," your voice was full of longing as you perched on the edge of the chaise lounge before the roaring fireplace. Willow had hopped up onto the plush piece of furniture, spinning in three circles before settling her head into your lap. Eris made a note to scold her for that later.
The tattoo on your arm shone in the golden embers, swirls of shadow and fire intertwining and dancing around your bicep, "I can help."
"Eris," you winced softly as you turned your head to him, "I couldn't ask you to do that, you've done so much already."
"You're not asking," he moved behind you, his fingers hovering over the sheer fabric of your dress that was transparent enough for him to see the muscle contorting under your skin, "If all I can give you is some relief, then I will."
A moment passed as you thought about it, but you nodded, giving him permission to unlace the strings holding the back of your dress together and pull the straps over your shoulders.
Eris' fingers were warm against your skin, you sucked in a breath at the contact, you felt fire spread across your surface as his gently wound his fingers into your flesh, "I want to try something." When you said nothing, he took it as a sign of agreement, he allowed his fire to flow into his fingertips, the heat of them unwinding the knot in your muscles instantly, withering the demon under your skin into the abyss, "Better?"
"Much," you glanced over your shoulder, "Thank you," your eyes were dazed and you smiled at him, your own fingers running down the space between Willow's eyes and down her long nose.
A question had been poking at him the moment he had seen it, the tattoo that glowed in the light, the one that when you looked at it for a moment too long seemed to dance, "That tattoo. It was a bargain?"
A solemn nod, "Yes," you confirmed, "Between Azriel and I," you gazed into the fire and sighed, but you didn't move away from Eris when he took the seat beside you, "We promised that we would always look after one another, that we would never feel harm at the other's hand."
You smiled sadly, "Azriel and I weren't so different, we were both raised by people who didn't particularly want us, burdened with a power we didn't understand. I think we understood one another in a way no one else could, we knew what we needed and when, we basically knew each other better than we knew ourselves," your voice trailed off, "At least, I thought we did," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you blinked hard to rid your vision of their blurry infliction.
Eris watched you shudder, the loneliness and betrayal worming its way into your soul like you had realised the gravity of it all.
Shuffling closer, Eris' thigh brushed against your own, his fingers millimetres away from yours and he gave into his desire to touch you as his index finger curled around your little one. A simple action to show that he understood, and more a singular moment, you let your guard down, the walls tumbled and you felt his power wash over you, kissing your own and sewing together the brittle remnants of your essence.
The room shifted, the world tilted, and you felt a sensation you had never felt before. Looking down, you found black flames licking up your fingers, they danced up your arms and across your connected digits to curl around Eris.
Neither of you moved, you both simply gazed at it, his fire and your darkness moulding together to create a wonderous crackle of flame that didn't burn either of you. It was softly calling out, and you raised your entwined fingers to inspect it carefully.
It was meant to be terrifying, but the personification of your darkness felt more childlike than anything, it was excited and new, and it nestled itself onto both of your limbs.
"I've never seen anything like this before," Eris held your palm atop of his own, his fingers smoothing over your pulse as his eyes found you, examining your face, namely your eyes where the fire in them burnt brightly.
Eris should have cowered away from you, but he loved your touch more than anything, and no matter how fleeting it may be, he would bathe in it for as long as he possibly could. "Neither have I," you tilted your head, realisation was littered on you, "But I've read about it. It's called Carranam, I think." The look in your enlightened eyes told him of the rarity of such a thing.
"You really are a clever little thing, aren't you?"
A sidelong glance and smirk later, you drawled, "You don't even know the half of it, High Lord."
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Author's Note
Here she is!!!
Hope you love this and are going just as feral as me right now 🫶🏻
Taglist
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barcaatthemoon · 3 hours
Text
lazy day || alexia putellas x reader ||
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you and alexia spend a much needed day in bed together.
you groaned as the beeping from your alarm grew louder. there really wasn't anywhere for you to be, but you had forgotten to turn it off for your day off. you tried to roll towards the noise, but surprisingly, you found yourself being held onto tightly by alexia. she wasn't normally one to stay in bed past six, and you wondered for a moment if she felt ill.
"ale, i'd like to stop the beeping," you said as you wriggled away from her. she whined, something that you hadn't heard in quite some time. you quickly turned the alarm off and situated yourself right back in her arms again. "do we have any plans for today? i was thinking that we could maybe go shopping."
"no," alexia told you. you pouted at her, and she was quick to respond with one of her own. "i want to spend the day with you doing nothing. please, mi amor."
you didn't have any real obligations, so you allowed yourself the comfort of staying in bed with alexia for at least a little while longer. you laid back and relished in the feeling of being in her arms. there was nothing in the world that made you feel safe like being with her like that. alexia's strong arms provided a comfort that you knew you'd never find again.
"you know, i'm not really tired." you could feel alexia trying to lull you back to sleep, but it wasn't working. you did love the feeling of her always perfectly trimmed nails raking gently against your scalp.
"that's okay, you don't have to go to sleep. i just want you to lay here with me," alexia said. she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head as she shifted slightly beneath you. it should have been absolutely perfect, but you had a hard time relaxing when you had the feeling that something was going on with alexia.
this carried on even after she had finally gotten out of bed for the day. it was nearly 9 o'clock, which you didn't believe was late by normal standards, but it might as well have been the afternoon for alexia. she moved around her house sluggishly as she pulled out the ingredients for breakfast.
since you had practically moved in with alexia, she had gotten you used to her making you breakfast each morning. you knew it was mainly because she wanted to make sure that you stuck to the meal plans that had been made up for you, but it was still sweet of her. she liked taking care of you, something that had surprised the both of you quite a bit at first.
alexia was a caring person, but she had never really given off domestic vibes. all of it came quickly once you started to spend time at her apartment. she began to invite you over for meals, basking in the way your face lit up as she brought you something that she had specifically cooked for you.
it was more than just the food. alexia loved doing all sorts of little things for you around the house. she knew that you could take care of yourself and your own messes, but the kisses you'd give her for helping made it more than worth any trouble. today though, as alexia moved around the kitchen, you knew that the dishes would sit in the sink until tomorrow.
"to the couch. vamos!" alexia swatted your ass as she passed you by. you glanced back over at the sink, but didn't make any moves to clean up. you were no stranger to a sink full of dishes, but you doubted alexia was. she liked to get ahead of things before they piled up. "right here, on my lap. get in close. we are going to watch one of the scary shows."
"i thought you didn't like my shows," you said softly. alexia had been very clear that she had no intentions of watching any of the horror-themed shows that you tended to enjoy. alexia liked for you to think of her as tough and fearless, and those shows made her jump and squeal like a little girl.
"i do not, but i like you a lot. one could even say that i love you, so we can watch them today. if it gets to be too much, i'll just use you as a shield." alexia was being extremely honest. you chuckled as she turned the two of you to lay down on the couch.
alexia sprawled out on top of you, partially tucking her face into the side of your neck. she could still see the television, but her view would be easily hidden if she wanted it to be. the feeling of her breath against your neck was a bit distracting, especially once she had fallen asleep. in her sleep, alexia had pulled you even closer, causing her mouth to press gently against one of the more sensitive spots on your neck.
silently, you turned the television off and carefully shifted to lay a little straighter. you'd wake up from your little nap with a terrible ache in your neck, but alexia would be more than happy to rub it out for you. you closed your eyes and tried to match alexia's breathing as you quickly drifted off to sleep. you hadn't done much all day, but the week's exhaustion finally seemed to catch up with you.
hours later, you woke up curled up on alexia's lap as she sat on the balcony. alexia was chatting away to someone on the phone in spanish, carting her fingers through your hair as she spoke quietly. you pretended to be asleep for a little while longer, even though you knew alexia saw right through you. still, she didn't acknowledge it until she got off of the phone.
"i know that i should have left you inside, but i didn't want you to leave my arms," alexia said as she lifted your head slightly. you puckered your lips for a kiss, which she happily granted you. it was a light press of your lips against yours, but it was enough for the moment. anything else probably would have made your head spin a bit.
"what was all that about?" you asked her. alexia's face fell as she looked at you. her contract at barcelona had been extended, an offer that truly reflected her importance to the club. you had yet to be offered anything, and the window was quickly closing on barcelona to resign you. if they didn't, you'd be forced to move out of spain, and that was the last thing either you or alexia wanted.
"barcelona, they'll resign you for three years, but you have to spend next season on loan. they say it's the only way that they can afford to keep you," alexia said. you didn't like the sound of that, but you weren't opposed to going on loan if it meant you could still come back to barcelona.
"where would i go?" you asked. alexia shrugged. there had been a few clubs that were smart enough to really fight for you. all of them were much further away than alexia was comfortable with. although, you had yearned to play for your home country again, even if you knew that alexia would never follow you all the way to sweden.
"up north, like way up north. they want you back in sweden," alexia answered. your eyes lit up a little, and alexia felt guilty for wanting to hide the information from you. she had thought about it, but it felt dishonest, and her honesty was one of your favorite things about her. "i don't want you to go."
"it's just a season, it's not permanent. i doubt you want me to take the only other spanish team that's willing to sign me." alexia's brows furrowed at the reminder of real madrid's offer on you. it was twice as much as barcelona was willing to pay for you, but alexia had threatened to disown you if you played for them. you didn't doubt that she'd do it, the woman loved barcelona almost more than she loved you sometimes. "you can do this ale, i believe in you."
"i don't want to though. i don't want to wake up without you right here next to me. it's selfish, and i know that i'm being a baby about it, but i deserve to be sometimes. it's not fair," alexia whined. you cupped her cheeks and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. alexia grumbled a little as you pressed kisses all over her face before you finally kissed her lips.
"don't think about it for now, just enjoy these moments with me right now. let's make a million memories so that when i'm gone, the time just flies by until i can come back to you, okay? you've already given me today," you said. alexia took a deep breath, and if you noticed the tears in her eyes that she desperately tried to blink away, you didn't say anything.
"we can't just lay around all day tomorrow. there's media and training," alexia reminded you.
"i don't need to tomorrow. whenever things get to be too much for me, i'll just remember this day that we spent together. i'll think about the feeling of your arms wrapped around me when i get cold and lonely. anything to put me back in this headspace."
"god, i love you so much," alexia muttered as she squeezed you. you quietly repeated her words back to her, but they were muffled as alexia lifted you up and carried you back inside. this time when your body hit the bed, you knew that it wasn't just for a bit of extra lounging around.
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moremaybank · 3 days
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okay I still cannot stop thinking about best friend jj and reader. Its mentioned her parents have body shamed her in the past and her mom makes that comment about her hips. What if it really got to her at one point and JJ is the only one who noticed. Not like a full blown eating disorder thankfully but that he noticed her skipping meals and he had to sit her down on his lap and tell her she was perfect...sorry just me thinking lol
eeek! first in between au request! thank you for the continuous love ♡︎ warnings reader skipping meals, body shaming (r's parents), bsf!jj being a sweetheart as usual [1k]
At first, it wasn’t a big deal. 
JJ was well aware that sometimes, when you were stressed, you’d forget to eat. He’d urge you to at least steal a few pieces of food off his plate (okay, maybe more than a few), and his mind would be at peace knowing that you were now fed and taken care of. 
But soon, he noticed that it became a daily thing. You’d tell him you weren’t hungry, or that you’d already eaten earlier, but then, he’d hear your stomach growling and watch you blatantly ignore it. You looked exhausted all the time, your physical strength was depleting. He’d watch you grow snappy at the smallest things, watch the way you’d pick at your food and move it around on your plate mindlessly every time you two ate together. Then, you’d dismiss his concerns with a forced smile.
After a few weeks had gone by, and your actions had remained the same, he knew something was up. He couldn’t stand to see you become a shell of who you usually were. There was no spark of wonder in your eyes. It was like all your hope had been sucked out of you. 
He also knew that your family was hard on you when it came to your body. And it sucked to admit, but at the beginning, he hadn't thought too much of it. Now, though, something was going on with his favourite girl and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. 
“Hey, you feel like goin’ to the Wreck? I'm feelin’ a seafood boil right now.”
You simply shrugged him off, your gaze remaining on the work in front of you. You’d been consumed in it all day, barely even blinking an eye in JJ’s general direction. 
“Not really hungry. I can come with you, though?”
Approaching you at your seat in front of your desk, his hands pried the pen from your hand, and he placed it down on the wooden surface. Then, he crouched down to get a better look at you.
“What’s goin’ on with you?” 
You turned away from him, scared of looking into his eyes. His tone indicated that you’d been caught. You should’ve known that he would pick up on your change in demeanour sooner or later. 
It was JJ.
Getting things past him simply was not a thing. It never was. 
Still, though, you’d make the effort even if it proved to be pointless. You weren’t sure the honesty was worth seeing the disappointment on his face. 
“Nothing. Jus’ not hungry.” 
“Y/N, I haven’t seen you eat a proper meal in two weeks.” 
“I said I'm good, J.” Your voice was bitter and sharp as you picked your pen back up, breaking free of his hold and trying to continue with your work. “If you wanna eat, go eat.”
He took the pen from your hand again, stuffing it in his pocket so you couldn’t get to it as easily. 
“You really think that by now, I don’t know when you’re actin’ up?” He held your face in his hands, ensuring that you couldn’t look away from him again. “Jus’ tell me what’s goin’ on so I can fix it.” 
“You can’t fix this, J.” 
He sighed softly, his thumbs swiping over the apples of your cheeks. “Try me.” 
You stalled for a moment. You didn’t want the judgement, You knew what he would say. 
Y/N/N, don’t listen to him. He’s a piece of shit. He has no idea what he’s talking about. 
If this was about anything else, maybe you would’ve believed him. But after hearing comments from your parents about your body for almost two decades…maybe their words had some truth to them, right? 
But when you looked into those oceanic puppy-dog eyes, it was as if he was willing the truth out of you wordlessly. Sighing, you broke free of his grasp carefully. You strolled over to your dresser, pulling your phone off of the surface and opening your messages on your way back to him. You handed him the device, the glow of your screen illuminating his face as it showed him the texts you’d received from your father earlier last week. 
You think your mother and I haven’t noticed how you’ve gotten fuller? Everything you’ve worn to our events lately has only made you look worse. A girl your age should be slimmer. We should get you on a diet, up your physical activity.”
If you don’t fix your appearance, you’re going to embarrass us in front of our colleagues. We can’t secure this deal if you’re looking plump.
I’ve had it. You shouldn’t accompany us anywhere for the next few months. Not until you get your weight under control. 
Rage bubbled deep in his core, threatening to swallow him whole. It had always puzzled him beyond belief — how your parents could look at you and see the complete opposite of what he had.
Perfection.
He tried to remain stoic. You’d never been happy when he got upset over things your parents had done in the past, and right now, when you were looking so pained, how could he make things worse?
“Y/N/N,” he said, hands bracing your shoulders. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” 
You couldn’t even find the courage to look up at him. You were too scared, too ashamed. You didn’t want his pity, you just wanted the voices to stop, and though you believed JJ could do anything, you weren’t sure if he could quiet that noise. 
It was too blaring. 
“You’re actin’ like there’s somethin’ to fix, but there isn’t. You’re perfect. I don’t care what your dress size is. You don’t need to be cuttin’ back. End of story.” 
“J, it’s just not that easy—”
His index finger found your lips, effectively shushing you and garnering your attention. “They’re wrong about everythin’ else, right?”
You nodded slowly. “…Yeah.” 
“So what makes ‘em right about this?” 
He got you good. He’d always had a certain way with you, and thank God he did. 
One of his hands abandoned your shoulder, finding your face instead. Blue eyes bore their soul into yours, trying to engrave how he viewed you into your brain. 
“Eat whatever the fuck you want. You’re beautiful, and you always will be.” 
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wholoveseggs · 2 days
Note
girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻
Forever
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.
♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡
6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡
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Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.
Well, that's what you wanted to believe.
There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.
He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.
You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.
He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.
He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.
Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.
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You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.
Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.
You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.
He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.
"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"
"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.
"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.
"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.
Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"
"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."
Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."
You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.
While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.
"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."
He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.
You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.
"Let's light her up!" you announced.
The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.
"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.
You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.
"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.
You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.
The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.
You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."
"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.
"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.
You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.
Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.
Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"
"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.
"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."
Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.
"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"
"Okay!"
The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.
You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.
"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."
"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.
"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."
"Oh?"
"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."
You flushed,  biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.
Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.
He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.
His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.
He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.
His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.
You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.
"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"
Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.
He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.
He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."
"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.
You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.
"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.
You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.
As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.
You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?
No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.
Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.
It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.
He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse. 
Just too good to be true.
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Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.
"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.
"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.
Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."
"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.
"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.
"No," Elijah stated simply.
"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.
"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"
"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.
"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.
"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."
"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."
"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."
"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.
"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"
Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"
"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."
Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.
"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."
"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."
Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.
"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"
Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.
"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."
"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.
She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.
Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?
He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.
"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.
"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."
"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."
"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."
"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."
You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.
He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.
But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.
Because if you were gone, so was he.
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You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.
He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.
"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.
"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.
"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.
"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."
"That's putting it lightly."
You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.
"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.
"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."
"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.
"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.
"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.
"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.
"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.
"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.
"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."
Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."
"And Elijah?" you asked.
Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."
"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."
You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.
Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.
We need to talk.
You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.
Tomorrow.
You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.
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The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.
Elijah had texted you back.
Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.
You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.
Why are you sending a car?
A response came instantly.
It's a surprise.
You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.
Fine, give me 10 minutes.
Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.
You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.
Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.
"Good morning," he said.
"Morning," you replied.
He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.
"What?" you asked.
"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."
You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."
"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.
You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"
"The airport," he replied.
"What? Why?" You were completely confused.
"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."
"Where are we going?"
"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.
"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.
"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.
"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."
"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."
He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.
You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.
As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.
"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.
"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."
You looked up at him and kissed him softly.
"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."
"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.
The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.
Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.
"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah," you yawned.
You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.
"Welcome to Positano," he said.
"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
"It's magical," you gushed.
"Yes, it is."
The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.
You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.
The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.
The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.
"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.
"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.
Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.
You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.
You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.
"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.
"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.
"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."
"Eli-"
"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."
You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.
The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.
"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.
"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.
"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.
"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.
"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."
You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.
"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.
"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"
"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.
He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.
"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."
"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."
He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.
You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.
"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."
"I like the sound of that," you moaned.
"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.
His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.
You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.
"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.
He set you on your feet and turned the water on.
"We are covered in sand," he grinned.
The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.
The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.
He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.
"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.
You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.
"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.
Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.
But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.
"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.
He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.
You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.
He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.
"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.
"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.
His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.
"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.
"All of it," you said.
"Right here, up against the shower wall?"
"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.
He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.
He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.
He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.
"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.
"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.
He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.
His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.
Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.
"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.
He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.
Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.
He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.
"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.
"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.
"Not long enough," he smirked.
He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.
He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.
"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.
"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.
He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.
"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.
His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.
"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.
He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.
You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.
You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.
You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.
He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.
"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.
"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.
"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.
"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.
"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.
"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.
"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."
"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."
The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.
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The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.
There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.
When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.
"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.
"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.
"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"
"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.
"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.
"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.
"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.
Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.
"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.
"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.
Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.
"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."
The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.
"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.
You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."
"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.
"Will you be my flower girl?"
She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"
You laughed and hugged her back.
Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.
You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.
"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.
"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.
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cambrinkisbae · 2 days
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚scary love˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
nika muhl x reader
summary - you've never experienced true love until nika came along and part of you doesn't believe that you deserve her.
word count - 1.6k
themes :
-angst
-fluff
warnings :
-arguing
-cursing
a / n - inspired by scary love by the neighborhood and dedicated to my love (not the bad parts though only the sweet ones!)
Nika's hair always felt nice on my bare chest. I felt at peace when I'd wake up to her lips just barely touching my collarbones. my hands were still tangled in her hair but I slowly twirled some strands in between my fingers. this didn't feel right. it felt right in the moment but in the back of my mind, I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve to have this perfect woman in my arms. it felt like I took up her warmth. I slowly peeled my arms off of her back and slid out from under her. her head gently fell against the pillow I was previously lying on. I watched as she didn't make a single move. I stood there and admired her messy hair sprawled out on the silky pillowcase. her fingers tightened around nothing but fabric, I could tell she wanted me back there. but I still walked to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. brushed my hair and brushed my teeth with the same thought running around my head. the same thoughts.
I can't fuck this up 
yet the moment I felt okay and comfortable, a flip had switched. a couple of weeks after that morning I was feeling amazing. I felt like everything I was blessed with was meant for me. but the second an ounce of doubt ran through my head, I blew.
"Baby who is this?" Nika said holding my phone to my face. her voice was soft and calm but part of me still felt threatened. it wasn't anyone. it was just my best friend and I happened to have her contact as "babe💞" the same emoji I had next to Nika's name on my phone. I knew that it was just my best friend and nothing more but for some reason, I felt the need to panic. as if I had something to hide. "oh. uh, it's just- no one." I snatched my phone out of her hand leaving it empty as if it was searching for something to grasp onto. I held my phone to my face as I quickly changed the contact back to my best friend's name and a red heart next to it. I felt guilty for nothing. when I looked up I saw Nika with watering eyes ready to burst. and suddenly I copied. this is the last thing I wanted. Had I fucked it up? "y-you can tell me who it is." her voice was trembling beneath her lips. I could tell that inside she was fuming and wanted to explode but she had always hidden her angry side from me so she refused to blow. I quickly stepped closer to her body, cradling her jaw. I tried to calm her down without telling her the truth even though I knew that was what would fix things. something was stopping me. She tilted her head in the opposite direction of my hand, ripping her skin from my own. "who was it? just fucking tell me." why didn't I tell her. why couldn't I? I rested my hands against my stomach trying to control my increasing breath. "i-i don't know." my voice trailed off with shaky breaths. what the fuck was stopping me. I held onto my arms pretending it was Nika. the room went quiet after Nika took a couple of deep breaths. Nika finally turned around and showed her damp face. her eyebrows furrowed when she saw that I had been crying too. "why are you crying? what do you have to be crying about?" she pointed her finger at my chest, gently bumping me back. I took a breath, stumbling over my air while wiping tears from my cheeks as fast as I could. I tried to keep it together and not sob out of frustration. "it's not anyone Nika I promise." I practically pleaded between words.
"then why won't you tell me!?" her hands flung through the air drastically.
"Please you gotta trust me, baby." I dipped my head into my palms.
"how am I supposed to trust you when you can't even tell me who you're calling babe?"
"It's just a nickname," I whispered under my breath.
"Jesus Christ." her hands were tangled in her hair as she paced around the room.
"I'm sorry" I croaked out between hidden sobs.
I felt weak.
"do you realize that I love you? more than anything in the world and if you do too you need to fucking show it!" she said with her back faced to me.
I held onto that. She loved me more than anything in the world. and I loved her more than myself.
"I-" I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off.
"no. You can explain to me once you actually know how to"
Nika walked out of the door and to her car. I knew where she was going. she drove all the way back to campus to see Paige. it's where she always went when she was upset. So there I was sitting on the edge of our bed. crying to pass the time that was only filled with hope for her coming back through the door and giving me time to explain. I slowly moved to the floor and sat against the wall instead. My knees curled up to my chest. my jeans soaked up all the tears that came out of my eyes. I held onto my shins and sobbed for the rest of the night. it was only at around 3 am that I decided to get up and change something. I brushed through my hair and changed into sweatpants and a cropped tank top. I changed from my slippers into tennis shoes before leaving the apartment and walking to campus. it took me thirty minutes to get there and about ten minutes to get the balls to knock on Paige's door. the door swung open to reveal Paige staring at me. blanker than usual. she was obviously mad and that made me feel even worse. "uh- can I come in?" I know Paige loved me and Nika together and separately so she let me in and sat herself on her couch. "she's in my room." she spit out blandly while motioning her hand behind her head.
"did you walk here?" Paige questioned while shoving leftovers in her mouth.
"yes," I said while walking down to where Nika was. the door was cracked open enough for me to see her lying on Paige's bed. no covers and not a pillow. just flat sheets. I hesitated with my hand hovering over the door knob before creaking open the door. Nika was asleep, which I was part thankful and sad about. She used to say that it was almost impossible to sleep without me. I could tell that she wasn't completely out though. I can always tell now from the number of times I've walked in on her sitting up waiting for me to come back from the bathroom. She would always have a goofy smile on her lips once I called her out for fake sleeping. I chose to lean against the wall after closing the door instead of sitting on the edge of Paige's bed like how I wanted to. I watched Nika's chest rise and fall with every melancholy breath she took in her sleep. A million things went through my head questioning what she could be thinking about. A small hair fell down the side of her face and I took no time to reach and move it back behind her ear. I guess she's a light sleeper without me. she blinked her eyes open and I wanted to cover my face. her eyes were locked with mine for half a second before she looked down at the pale purple sheets she was lying on. we sat in silence for what felt like forever until I spoke.
"it was my best friend. the girl in my contacts." I explained, waiting for Nika to even look at me.
"We have this inside joke where we call each other babe and it was brought up the night before so I thought it would be funny to change her contact to that but I'm now realizing that it was a bad thing to do while in a relationship and I'm so so sorry, I don't want to lose you and I feel like I just did you're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I don't know what I'd do without you-" my words began to trail off before Nika stood up and held her finger to my lips.
"stop." her hand rested on my hip while she stared into my eyes for the first time in 2 hours. I got caught in her eyes. her touch and her breath and everything else. she sighed and looked at the floor then back up to me.
"It's okay," she whispered while wiping the few tears that fell down my face without me noticing. she pressed her forehead against mine while moving her hands to the small of my back. a shiver ran up my spine when I felt her touch on my uncovered skin.
"I love you, Nika. so much more than you think. I'm so" my voice began to break "I'm scared that something will go wrong. that's the only thing that has ever happened to me. I get in an argument and then it's over. if that happened between us, I- I don't know what I'd do." Nika nodded along while I spoke.
"I am never. ever. going to pull that kind of shit on you beba."
Nika's accent calmed me. her words seemed to flow more when her accent was present.
I wrapped my arms around Nika's body pulling her in tightly. I pulled away to see her staring in absolute awe. her hands ran over my hair, slowly twirling strands between her fingers like how I used to.
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Hannibal obsessed with his patient
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Hannibal never liked to look at patients as anything more than that. But Y/N was a different story. She, unlike a lot of his patients, wasn't a psycho. Sure she had her issues, as did all but she was just looking for someone to talk to. 
He noticed the way she kept eye contact with him as they talked. She wasn’t shaky or nervous. She seemed confident 
Her problems were normal problems for people, nothing too crazy. She admitted to him that she just liked having someone to talk to. 
Though her overthinking was bad. She hated that fact about herself but he assured her that it was normal. She wanted to believe him but in her mind it was too repetitive.
He kept a file on her, as he did every patient. He would constantly look over this file and study her. He even found out where she lived and worked, thus began the stalking and obsessing. 
He would watch her from afar at work as she did her job. Her beauty was unlike anything he’s ever seen and all he wanted to do was hold her and keep her from the fucked up world. 
He would stare at her house for hours as she was inside doing whatever she was doing. It wasn’t until weeks later that he would sneak up to a window and look inside.
Her house was well organized and looked very artsy. He knew that she loved art. They had talked about it multiple times. It was one of the reasons he was so obsessed with her. 
He saw her in the kitchen baking in her underwear and a large shirt. The shirt barely covered her ass but he wasn’t complaining 
He stared at her for a good few minutes as she baked a cake. He wondered if she was making a cake for someone or for herself. 
He found out the next day that it was for him. She wanted to thank him for everything that he’s done for her and that she was going to stop seeing him. 
This saddened him and he wasn’t going to let her leave him. So he decided to make a move. “Since you will no longer be my patient, would it be inappropriate to ask you on a date?” She smiled at him. “Even if it is, I would love to.” She said, 
He decided to make dinner for them and invite her over. Though it had crossed his mind to ask about having dinner at her house, he thought it was too early for that. 
Y/N looked stunning. Hannibal had told her to dress fancy and she did just that. He was taken away by her beauty and even stuttered a few times and Hannibal doesn’t usually do that. 
“You look amazing, my dear.” The name made her blush and stutter as well. “As do you, Hannibal.” She finally got to call him by his first name and he liked the way it sounded. 
Dinner made her moan. It was so good and better than she imagined. She knew that he was a cook but didn’t know the extremes. 
“This is the best food I've ever tasted.” She told him. He was pleased that she liked it but he knew what his perfect meal would be. 
She was on the kitchen table with her dress pooling around her waist as he licked her wet folds. He hummed as he tasted her juices that tasted better than any food he’s ever had. His finger ran up her clit causing her to moan. He loved that sound and wanted to hear more of it. 
Her moans echoed through his kitchen as he ate her pussy. One of her hands laced in his hair as the other gripped the table for dear life. His tongue felt amazing. 
He decided to add a finger as he pleasured her. His finger collected her wetness before entering her. She let out a whimper as his large finger invaded her insides. 
He pumped his finger as he licked her clit. Her pleasure was heightened by his movements and very intense. Her hips bucked and humped his face and finger as she was desperate for her orgasm. 
When she came it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Her jaw dropped and her eyes rolled back. Loud moans of his name left her mouth as he let her ride out the orgasm. 
His eyes never left her face as he stared in awe. Amazed by her beauty. She let out a breath and laughed. She looked down at him as his lips left her clit. “You’re very good at that.” She said out of breath. 
“When I like something I devour it.” He said to her and wink. She let out a breath that she was holding. This man would be the death of her and vise versa
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youandiwerealive · 2 days
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Praying that the blood doesn’t stain [rd]
Author’s note: I cried so much while writing this one, I don’t even know what to say to you, girls, this broke my heart. Thank you to the anon who requested insecure dad!Rúben, sorry this took such a huge turn 😭 Hope you somehow enjoy this!
Warnings: there’s mentions of death and blood in this one ‼️
wc: 2107 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated
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There’s no biggest joy in Rúben’s life than his family. You and your daughter, Matilde, really are the light of his eyes. The little girl has him wrapped around her tiny finger, he could never say no her.
“Daddy, can I paint your nails pink?” - the 4 year old would ask him in her cute voice.
“You want to paint my nails, Mati? Of course, but choose a pretty shade of pink that matches daddy’s game shirt, okay?” - he would say to her in a soft voice, always smiling at his baby.
Matilde would do everything with his dad. Anywhere Rúben went, Matilde was there too, always tightly held at his hip, or taking her slow baby steps towards her daddy’s direction.
And Rúben couldn’t stop thanking God, the stars, destiny, whatever put you in his way: the love of his life that made him a dad, the most important role of his life. Nothing could top the importance that you and Matilde had in Rúben’s life, he would always put his girls first. He never felt so happy, with his daughter on his lap and his wife by his side, living in your indestructible bubble of love.
But it all changed two years ago. Rúben will never forget that fateful afternoon, he was having a tea party with your baby, when he got the call from the hospital. A drunk driver hit your car while you were on your way home, making Rúben losing his other half, forever. The news hitting him like a shot in the chest, straight to the heart.
He will never recover from your absence, leaving him to raise the light of your lives all by himself. Matilde is now six years old, she has already started school, now learning how to draw her first letters. Rúben still cries himself to sleep every single night, thinking about you, about how unfair fate was to both of you. You just had your baby, Matilde was only four years old when she lost his mother.
He misses you so fucking much, and your daughter does too. Rúben finds it incredible how Matilde remembers so much of you, always remembering things that you used to say to her, plays and jokes that you had with her. Rúben secretly believes that you talk to her in her dreams, because it’s like she has you always by her side.
Rúben tries his best to not break down in front of your child, especially when she asks about you. It’s been tough for Rúben to be a single dad, missing your support, the way you always seemed to make every thing right. He never looked at another woman again, his eyes and heart belonging to his daughter only - as well as to you, forever. He still wears his wedding ring, never taking it off. He hates the fact that life didn’t allowed him to say goodbye to you, to give you one last kiss. The last time he told you he loved you was over the phone, while you informed him that you were on your way home. Him and Mati cheekily saying “we love youuuu”, over the phone, while Rúben would pretend to drink a cup of tea, wearing a tiara on his head and sitting besides Berny - the bunny, and Johnny - the bear, named after Bernardo and John Stones, Rúben’s friends and Mati’s uncles.
His friends and family never left his side, they notice that Rúben has never been the same again after what happened, everybody knows it.
Matilde is the only thing that can make him smile, making him feel alive as he teaches her how to write her name, paints ballerinas and flowers with her, cooks for her and teaches her how vegetables and fruits are important for her health. Rúben’s life mission is educating his girl in the best possible way he can, be by her side at all times and protect her from every one and every thing.
Every time Rúben looks at his daughter, his heart stings a little, she looks so much like you now. She has your eyes, your smile. At the same time, there’s nothing that he loves more than looking at his baby, resembling the love of his life so much, like you’re still with them.
He can’t do his daughter’s hair as pretty as you could, but Matilde is a gentle and caring girl, she always has a smile on her face and a compliment to give to her dad. “I love my ponytails daddy, you did great” - she would always notice every morning after Rúben would neatly comb her hair, using her favourite pink hair clips with butterflies on them.
She would thank him with a gentle kiss on his cheek, his favourite feeling in the world being the love of your daughter, the way she would tightly wrap her tiny arms around his neck when he would pick her up, how she would hold his hand while walking in the street, her loving kisses on her father’s face, and the way she laughs when his beard tickles her.
When Matilde is at school and Rúben founds himself alone, he lets his thoughts take advantage of him. You are always on his mind, there’s not a second when he isn’t thinking about you. But when nobody is watching, he cries his heart out, still questioning life about the reason why they took you away from him. He often goes to the cemetery, to talk to you, to tell you everything about Matilde - even though he knows you’re always watching over her, protecting your baby. He drops kisses on your grave, whispering how much he loves you, how much he misses you. And how badly he needs you more and more as time goes by. Matilde is getting bigger and she needed her mother too.
After he picks her up from school, Rúben is cooking dinner for the both of them, while his daughter is playing in the garden. He gets lost in his thoughts, unable to stop himself to think how the house is silent without you in it, how life was never the same.
His daughter’s cry takes him out of his trance. He immediately goes to search her outside, Matilde already running to meet her dad. Rúben’s heart breaks at the sight: his baby’s face is wet from all the tears, and her noise and chin are running blood.
Rúben immediately picks her up and rushes to the bathroom, sitting his daughter on the counter, while he tries to clean up her wounds. The little girl hisses and whimpers in pain, poor child fell while playing on the rocks - bruising her knees too. Rúben stops the bleeding and decorates his girl’s wounds with pink band-aids that have hearts in them. Those make Matilde smile a little bit, as she stretches her arms to hug his dad. Rúben holds her tightly, the girl hiding her sad face on his dad’s neck. He kisses her head non-stop, now lying in bed with his daughter still in his chest.
Matilde sleeps in Rúben’s bed now. It’s been like this since you passed away, he feels like he can’t sleep alone anymore - his nightmares about your accident chasing him every night.
The two of them stay silent as Rúben is still leaving kisses on his precious baby and stroking her back carefully. All of the sudden, there’s a little sound.
“Daddy?” - Matilde asks quietly, her voice sounding muffled from her face still being hidden on her dad’s neck.
“Yes, amor?” - Matilde knows a lot of portuguese now, understanding all the pet names and the lectures her father gives her sometimes.
“I miss mommy” - she admits with a little cry escaping her eyes.
Rúben closes his eyes and sighs. “I know, baby. I miss her too” - he admits to his daughter, his voice threatening to fail as well.
“Do you still love her, even though she’s not here with us?” - the little girl questions, her big brown eyes now looking up at his father, who kissed her forehead before speaking.
“Of course I do, filha. Have you stopped loving mommy?” - he asks her back and smiles when the girl firmly shakes her head ‘no’.
“You see, mommy is not physically here with us, but she’s always around. She’s always inside of us, here” - he points at the where his heart is located.
“In our hearts?” - Matilde confirms the place.
“In our hearts, baby. You know the necklace you wear every single day, since you were little?” - Rúben references the silver necklace that has a butterfly, a flower and the letter ‘M’ engraved on a plate in a round shape. You bought it and personalised it to gift it to your daughter.
The initial letter of her name, the butterfly - to let her know that she can always rebirth and become the best version of herself, and a flower - a tulip, to be more specific. The tulip is the flower that represent the perfect love, and you put it on her necklace so she can always remember that she is fruit of a gigantic and true love, yours and Rúben’s, and his mission is to teach her how to never set for anything less than the love his parents shared, that got her into his world.
“My necklace, yes” - the girl answers while her hand instinctively reaches to touch it.
“Mommy gave it to you, and while you have it on, she’s always looking down at you and protecting you. That’s why you can never take it off, Mati” - her father explained.
The girl just smiled at his father, and hugged him tightly, knowing that he is all that she has, but feeling in her heart that her mother is always by her side.
That night, while Matilde was peacefully sleeping in his chest, Rúben couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried.
His mind was rushing from the previous events - remembering her face full of tears and blood, the conversation about you. Rúben can’t help but doubt himself as a father - it happens more often that he would like to.
It’s been two years, but he’s still discovering how to be a solo father, an adventure that he had to take on with his daughter - not really having a choice. And sometimes he can’t help but doubt his ‘daddy abilities’ - fighting himself for not being attentive enough to protect Matilde from hurting herself on those damn rocks. That’s his job, for fucks sake. He needs to pay full attention to his baby, to prevent this type of things from happening. He would never forgive himself if something happened to the light of his life.
He misses you, your advices. He misses your mom side, you were the perfect mother to Matilde, and he can’t help but imagine how would life be if you were still here with them. Matilde has a lot of your personality, she is extroverted, funny, smiley and bubbly - just like you were. There’s times where she gives Rúben some sassy answers, leaving him speechless, having an attitude just like yours. He looks at pictures of you two, when you started dating, and some pictures already after Matilde was born. He knows that the blood on Matilde’s wounds won’t stain her clothes, but the blood surrounding your loss will forever stain his heart, his mind, his life.
Life without you doesn’t seem worthy of living most of the times to him, but his baby is the only thing pushing him from the ground. She’s his partner in life now, filling his heart with love and laugh when all he wants to do is cry.
The moments when they sing in the car on their way to school, when Matilde makes Rúben dance like a proper ballerina - making him wear a pink tutu and all, make his life worth living. His baby’s laugh means the world to him, gives him strength and hope in a brighter future.
He wishes you were here with him, reassuring him that everything was going to be okay. But, the way your daughter starts stirring in her sleep, and holds herself tightly to him for comfort and protection, already looks like a sign to him. He’s a good dad, and he and Mati will never be alone, since they have the most beautiful and bright star looking down at them, protecting and guiding them - forever.
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hellfirenacht · 2 days
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C'mon, It's Just One Night (Part 1)
Summary: After getting a fake love note in your locker, you ask Eddie to help you mess up some bullies plans. 
Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, sfw, fem reader, reader wears a dress at one point, mentions of bullying, actual bullying, two-shot
Master List
Work Count: 3.7k Words
You ain't seen nothing yet....
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The thing that always confused you about jocks and popular kids was that they always assumed that everyone else was dumber than them. Girls would come up to you and give you a compliment that was clearly not sincere and when you thanked them just to get them to leave you alone they would giggle and think that you believed them. Guys would ask you on dates as a joke and you’d roll your eyes and try to ignore them, even as they tried desperately for your attention for their own amusement. 
Thankfully, there were certain perks that came with being in the Hellfire Club. Being associated with Eddie “the Freak” Munson meant that as long as you were standing near your friend, you’d mostly be left alone. You’d sit with him at lunch, try and walk with him to class in the hallways, and in general just tried to avoid any jock that looked particularly bored. 
However it had been quiet over the past few weeks, too quiet for your liking. Honestly, you were almost missing some of the backhanded compliments because it at least gave you a chance to blow off some steam outside of Hellfire. Well, something out there heard your wish and that’s how you found yourself watching from the other end of the hallway as two boys shoved a note in your locker, snickering to themselves. 
Well, this should be entertaining at least. 
They didn’t even try and look around to see if anyone was watching them, too caught up in their own scheme to realize the person who’s locker they were messing with was watching them from just a few yards away. 
“-’s gonna be so funny.” laughed one. You didn’t even know their names. There were so many people at this school that how were you expected to keep up with everyone when you didn’t even speak to them?
“Yeah, she’s gonna be embarrassed and we’ll get a free show out of it.” laughed the other one. 
You were right there. How was it that you could be on their radar for this shit and yet still remain completely invisible? 
The two turned around and you pretended to be throwing something away in a nearby trash can quickly, so that they wouldn’t realize that you had been staring at them. 
“There she is, we gotta go!” you heard one say in a voice that you assumed was his idea of whispering as the two scampered off while trying to hold off their laughter. 
You gave them a generous thirty seconds to get away before making your way to your locker and opening it up, grabbing the note and reading it over. It took everything you had not to burst out laughing right there, and you were just going to throw it away when you had an idea. 
Tucking it into your pocket, you smiled and made your way to the drama room for Hellfire as you started making your own plans for what you’d just read. 
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“And with the Dwarf’s golden pick rightfully returned to him, I think this is a good stopping point.” Eddie said, finally sitting back in his chair. He’d been really revved up today, jumping around the table and getting in everyone’s faces as he described what was happening. He’d nearly rammed his head into yours at one point and you had barely managed to lean back enough so he didn’t. 
Eddie was always revved up, always ready to put on a show. He wasn’t afraid to be loud or call out the bullshit of what was expected. Eddie would jump on tables, get in people's faces, declare himself King Freak. 
He was perfect. 
...For your plan. Nothing more. You knew he’d be on board when you explained what you wanted to do. He was perfect for... that. 
As the rest of the club filed out, you stayed behind to help clean up the leftover soda cans and break down the board. You were also stalling because you didn’t want any of the other members to witness what you were about to ask of Eddie. 
“Your Scottish accent is getting better and worse at the same time.” you said, handing him one of the minis. “Sometimes you nail it, and sometimes I don’t think you’re even trying to say anything legible.” 
“It’s better than your character's accent! Is your tiefling from New Jersey or trans-atlantic?” Eddie laughed, shoving his notes unceremoniously in a folder. 
“Why do Dwarves need to be Scottish anyway?” you ignored his question, fully aware that your accents were no better. “I think you should mix it up. Make Canadian dwarves or something.”
This is how Hellfire usually ended, with the two of you joking around and talking about the session and making fun of each other while you tried to get hints about what was to come. He never gave anything away. 
You blew out a few candles and Eddie went to readjust the lights. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the note. 
“So, Eddie.” you started, turning to him. “Remember how last month I helped you study for Mrs. O’Donnel’s midterm and you got a solid B?”
Eddie’s brow furrowed and he stopped what he was doing to look at you. Under the multicolored spotlights he looked... you never had the words to describe it. He just looked like Eddie. The Eddie that should be playing guitar on stage or the Eddie that kept your attention so easily and rapturously when he was running his games. You weren’t ready to say that to his face yet, despite the contradiction of what you were about to do. 
“I remember.” he said, walking over to you and crossing his arms. “I take it you aren’t just bringing up a fond memory of us to reminisce about?”
“Not a chance.” you looked into his brown doe eyes. “It’s time for you to pay up.” And with that you handed over the note. 
Eddie took it with a slight tilt of his head and unfolded it, scanning the contents. 
My Dearest, 
I’ve been watching you for weeks now, enraptored by your beauty. I’ve been too shy to talk to you, but now I want the chance to confess to you. I’m in love with you, and have been all year. I don’t care if everyone thinks you’re some weird Satanist freak because I’m into that. Please be my date for homecoming and meet me at the school at 7:30 pm.
-Your secret admirer  
“It’s not really a secret if you’re handing this directly to my face.” Eddie said, looking up from the note. “And you spelled ‘enraptured’ wrong.” 
“I found this in my locker.” you said, ignoring his comments. “Some jocks think they’re being funny and are clearly trying to pull some sort of prank to humiliate me.” 
“Think it’s a Carrie situation?” Eddie asked, looking over the note again before handing it back to you. 
“They don’t have the guts to get any pig's blood.” you shook your head. 
“So what does this have to do with me? You know that Hellfire doesn’t do school dances.” He said. “I thought we were just gonna blow it off, and Corroded Coffin is gonna do a secret show at the Quarry.”
“Eddie, all your shows are secret.”
“Not true, we have recently gained another groupie. There are now a grand total of six drunks that regularly listen to us play.” Eddie pouted. “Six and a half if you count the cat that’s been hanging around the Hideout.” 
“Yeah, okay, remember me when you’re famous.” You said. “Listen, I need your help. I’m coming to you wanting to cash in my favor. I need the Freak to help me out here, Eddie.”
“For what, exactly?” His eyes narrowed, but you stood your ground. 
“If I show up to homecoming, something's gonna happen. The best case scenario is that I show up and they ignore me and laugh while I wait for this fake person to show up. The worst case scenario ends with pigs blood and me learning I have telekinetic powers.” You explained. 
“So why even bother going? I thought we all agreed that Hellfire doesn’t do school events.” 
That was a good point, and you were making a gamble on this. Eddie didn’t do school events, and tried to make it a rule for his club as well. That didn’t go over well when Mike insisted that he was going to take his girlfriend Jane to homecoming, and everyone finally came clean that Lucas was playing both sides of the field and playing basketball AND doing Hellfire. 
You had to admit, Eddie’s face of disappointment and disapproval was pretty funny. You felt bad for the guy though, he avoided anything school related like the plague outside of this club. Eddie had boasted that he’d never gone to prom or homecoming, and had been skipping any pep rally since his second senior year. 
“You agreed that you didn’t go to events. I never agreed to anything.” you said firmly. “I only agreed to show up every Friday and wear the Hellfire shirt.”
“And again I ask, what does this have to do with me?” Eddie pushed. 
“Be my date for homecoming.” you said. “My fake date. I want you to get to me before they have the chance to.”
Eddie froze for a second, a thousand emotions flashing through his eyes at once. You’d seen this look countless times when one of his players had thrown him a curve-ball and he had to scramble to figure out how to make it work for the game. 
“Your fake date.” he said slowly. “So you want me to- what exactly?” 
“I want you to show up and pretend to be the person who wrote this note.” you explained. “I’ll pretend to be thrilled, you get to be seen with a cute girl at a dance, the gossip train gets something to talk about, and the jocks get their plans foiled. Everybody wins.” 
Eddie rolled his eyes at your plan. “Or you could just not show up at all and just come help us set up for the show.” He said. 
“But that’s not fun.” You pointed out. “Besides, if they think we’re together even just for the night then they’ll leave me alone. Probably”
Eddie looked skeptical. 
“Please?” you leaned closer, making your eyes wide as possible. “Eddie, these dicks have been on my ass all semester. I can’t go two weeks without getting asked out as a joke or having some meat head yell about how his “friend thinks I’m cute”. It’s fucking annoying, and ignoring them has done jack and shit.” 
You saw the stone look in his eyes falter and his shoulders ease up. “You’re really serious about this?” he asked. 
“I am.” you confirmed. “You do this for me, and you can have full creative control. Show up in your Hellfire shirt, hell you could show up in your pjs and I’ll pretend to be thrilled that you’re my secret admirer. We’ll make sure that we’re seen, then we can go to the quarry. We don’t even have to stay for fifteen minutes. Just show up for me, Eddie. Please.” 
Eddie took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hands. “Fifteen minutes. All I have to do is show up and pretend that I’m your secret admirer and then we leave. Right?”
“Right.” You promised. “That’s all I need.”
Eddie sighed deeply and grabbed his jacket and threw it on. “I am never asking for your help studying again. You drive a hard bargain.” Despite his words he had a grin on his face. 
“I’m going easy on you, if you had gotten an A I’d be demanding that you show up in a full tux with roses.” you teased. “I’m talking about the full cheesy school dance treatment. Corsage, first dance, all of it.”
“Don’t even start, you’d have to get me to completely ace her whole class to get that kind of treatment.” Eddie grabbed your shoulder and started pushing you up the stairs. “I wouldn’t even know where to get a tux.” 
“I think you’re supposed to rent one.” you laughed as the two of you made your way out of the drama room and closed the door. “I, however, will need to actually buy my dress.”
“You’re really gonna get a dress for this? We’re only going for fifteen minutes.” Eddie pointed out. 
“Oh, would you rather me show up looking terrible?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “You really wanna show up and fake-confess to me looking plain and like I don’t care?”
“You really want to sell this, huh?” Eddie laughed. 
“It’s the only way I can think of for them to stop.” You said. 
The two of you made your way to the parking lot. Eddie walking you to your car. 
“Remember Eddie, you have full creative control over how you want to do this.” you said, getting in the driver's seat. “I don’t care how you show up, just go loud.”
“Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson would never disappoint.” he said, closing the door for you with a flourish.
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You were going to get a dress for this. 
No, you weren’t, you were only going to be there for fifteen minutes at most. 
But your mom would want to take pictures and be thrilled you were even going. After all, you’d avoided it during your first four years of high school. 
And you wanted to. 
That was the real kick in the pants for all this. You wanted to go to homecoming. You wanted to have a night to dress up and look nice and have fun with your friends. Unfortunately, only the freshmen were going to the dance, and as much as you loved Mike, Lucas, and Dustin, you didn’t really think you’d have a lot of fun with some kids a good five years younger than you. Hell, Mike and Lucas had actual dates and Dustin had a long distance girlfriend! 
You’d be the single person in the group and that didn’t exactly put points in your favor for sticking around for the dance. The rest of Hellfire didn’t bother going to these kinds of things, as this town made it clear that school events were for normal people who enjoyed normal things, whatever the fuck that meant. 
As much as you denied ever wanting to go to homecoming or prom, you knew that you wanted to, and you knew who you wanted to go with. 
On the bright side, at least you’d get your secret wish now, even if it was for fifteen minutes. 
Eddie had made it clear since the first time the words “school dance” were uttered in his presence a few years ago that he wasn’t going to even entertain the idea of showing up. Those nights were dedicated to one shots or longer sessions for Hellfire. So for the past few years you had skipped out on any dances in favor of at least telling your beat up journal that you had technically spent prom or homecoming with Eddie Munson. 
You walked into the department store that you knew had a sizable selection of dresses, took one look at the price tags, and walked right back out. It was insane to spend that money on one night of dancing, let alone fifteen minutes. 
Besides, where else would you even wear a dress like that? You laughed at the idea of showing up to Hellfire, with your shirt on over whatever you would have picked. That’d be stupid. 
....
But it’d also be funny. 
You walked back into the department store and ignored the front and center mannequins to hit up the clearance rack instead. Even as you browsed, you were still trying to convince yourself that you didn’t need to buy something for this. Eddie was probably just going to show up in his old faded DIO shirt and some old jeans (maybe the ones that had that hole in the butt that showed his boxers when you stood behind him, if you were lucky). He probably wouldn’t even brush his hair. 
You had a choice to make. How much of an effort did you want to put into your appearance for this? Should you follow Eddie’s approach and just show up as normal, or should you allow yourself an indulgence in the Cinderella fantasy? What did you want, and what did this revenge situation call for?
You wanted to look nice. You wanted to tell your journal that you had a date with Eddie and that you looked good and that those asshole jocks didn’t even recognize you. Wouldn’t it be better that way anyway? No matter what Eddie looked like when he showed up, the point would be made clear; you were off the market (as far as anyone would be able to tell) and Eddie Munson had gotten the girl. No, not the girl; a girl. Being the girl implied that you were someone that Eddie had an interest in. 
Dresses of different lengths and cuts and colors started to blend together as you indulged in the fantasy of matching your dress to whatever Eddie was going to wear. You flipped through the dress rack while you mentally flipped through all the shirts you had seen Eddie wear in the last few weeks. He favored darker colors most times, the main exception being the white Hellfire Club shirt. 
“Dark clothes don’t stain as easily.” he’d explained before. 
You kept flipping through the racks of last seasons’ fashion, trying to find something that you could wear. Halfway through you considered giving up and just showing up in what you would have worn to the quarry if you hadn’t planned this whole thing. 
You need to commit to the bit. You reminded yourself. These jocks are expecting you to look pretty and then try to embarrass you. Don’t half ass it.
Sucking it up, you made your way over to the normal racks. Your mom had given you some cash to buy yourself a nice dress, but you had been hoping to just buy something cheaper and save the rest to buy off of Eddie later. 
You walked out of the store, bag in hand, with a receipt showing a number that made you feel sick. You reminded yourself over and over it was for you, Eddie, and your mom. 
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“Are you sure you have the charisma for this?” Gareth asked. “You always roll shit with any charisma roll.”
“Gareth, I don’t know if you know this, but rolling a die and saying that I’m trying to do something is different than actually doing it outside of the game.” you said as the two of you made your way into the Library. You had it on good authority that this was the jocks study hall period, and you wanted to really sell your plan. 
“I still don’t get why I have to be part of this. I’m not even going to homecoming either.” He grumbled. “This whole thing is stupid. You should just come to the show instead.” 
“I can do both.” you waved him off. “All I need you to do is let me talk at you-”
“You do that anyway.”
“Yes, but this time I need you to pretend to be invested.” You explained. “You let me talk about how excited I am for homecoming and to meet my secret admirer and I use my powers of being able to leave school during lunch to bring you McDonald’s tomorrow.” 
Gareth couldn’t argue with that, no teenage boy could resist the sweet temptation of greasy fast food in the middle of the school day. It was more than a fair trade, even if Gareth didn’t see the point in this. You just really wanted to sell your plan. 
“Remember, all you need to do is ask me who I’m going to Homecoming with.” you reminded him. 
The two of you walked over to where the group of basketball players were goofing off and not really studying, and the two who had slid the note into your locker started nudging each other and snickering to themselves. 
“So who are you going to homecoming with?” Gareth asked, his line delivery stiff and unnatural and disinterested. You had to fight with yourself to not roll your eyes at the lackluster performance. 
“I don’t know!” your voice was a little higher pitched at the response, trying to emulate the cheerleaders you’d seen giggling in their groups as they gossiped. You pulled the note that you had been keeping in your pocket. “I got this note asking me to meet them at the dance, so I have no idea!”
You continued to gush to the disinterested Gareth how excited you were to be asked to go, and speculating on who it could be. The entire time, your friend looked like he’d rather be smashing his head against the table than listen to you talk about this, which was honestly more fun for you than the jocks reactions. 
From the table behind you, the normally loud group of boys were attempting to be quiet as they snickered and nudged each other. You wished that Gareth would try and talk a little more so that you could stop talking to eavesdrop on them. 
When the jocks started getting louder again, that’s when you dropped the conversation. They weren’t interested in hearing anymore and so you weren’t either. 
“So what was the point of that?” Gareth muttered, making his way to the exit of the library. 
“I don’t want them to forget about me. If I’m gonna be completely honest, I really just expected them to totally forget they left something in my locker about this.” you adjusted your backpack, following him out. “I’m committed to the bit.”
“Sounds like you’re just asking for trouble.” He shook his head. 
“Maybe a little.” you sighed. “Eddie and I are graduating this year and I don’t want to look back at my time here and think that I just took the bullshit that was given to me. I just want them to get off my ass for the rest of the year.” 
“Do you really think it’ll work?” 
“Only one way to find out.” 
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Part 2 It's Gonna Be A Night We'll Never Forget (Coming Soon)
Dividers By: @strangergraphics
Tag List: @somethingvicked @ladysilence @leelei1980 @seexyyprincess @rosebudsgarden @ghcstpyre @crocwork-clockodile
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mysticheathenn · 13 hours
Text
What Do You Need To Work On To Bring in Love?
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Hi, Hexlings!
This pick-a-card reading is all about where in your life that you need to work on in order to bring in love.
This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.
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Pile l:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: Awakening, 5 of Cups, Page of Wands, 8 of Swords, Knight of Cups.
Self Esteem. Regardless of gender some of you have dealt with a "maneater" in the past. What I mean is you dealt with someone who made you feel as if you weren't worth anyone's time. They made you feel little, made you question your worth, and so forth. Some of you are either still dealing with this person (very few) while others of you are still grieving and trying to heal from this past relationship. Some of you are actually trying to heal but every single time you feel you are making any kind of progress you take two steps back and it's ass if you're still in that relationship all over again. You're not too sure how to change things for the better or heck some of you don't think you will get better and you will forever be "broken". I'm here to tell you that things will get better, you just need to find out WHO you are and what YOU think of yourself and not what anyone else thinks. Find something that you like about yourself no matter how small. This can be you loving your dimples, your kindness, the way your farts smell, anything, and start from there and work your way up to other things you may love about yourself. Ask loved ones what they love about you and try to see what they see and do affirmations in the mirror. Some of you may even benefit from Mirror Work or if you are readers reading Mirror Work by Louise Hay. Either way, you are worth loving, you are beautiful, you are amazing, etc etc.
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Pile ll:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: 9 of Pentacles (reversed), The Sun, 10 of Cups (reversed), King of Cups
Mindset. Similar to Pile l but a bit different. Instead of this pile dealing with a previous relationship, I'm hearing "It's me, hi...I'm the problem it's me" You are the problem. Some of you don't believe that you are meant to be happy or even find true love. This could be because of a previous relationship that made you feel this way or because of self-worth or the constant videos on social media that show you toxic relationships and you feel that all the good people are taken. Either way, You need to start believing that good things can and will happen for you regardless of what your surroundings show you. Regardless of how the past has treated you. Most importantly regardless of what social media or even your friends and family's relationships may show you to make you want to stay single. True love is out there and it's waiting for you to switch your mindset to the Sun card and believe that all good things happen to you. Nothing but amazing people flow into your life. Some of you I believe may feel this way because you constantly get lesson after lesson from the universe and from what I am hearing for a "good" reason that I rather not touch on because everyone's path is different. ("Good" meaning transformation within yourself for the better not good that you deserve it.) Read romance novels, and tap into the algorithm that shows you healthy relationships. I know there was a trend on TikTok recently where one female wanted people to display their healthy relationships to give others hope because her algorithm kept showing toxicity and weaponized incompetence from partners, etc. Do any and everything that you can do to surround yourself with positive and loving love.
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Pile lll:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: Hanged Man, 5 of Pentacles (reversed), King of Swords, Page of Wands, 5 of Swords
Self Worth. Pile lll you have a horrible habit of letting people go. You're like a hoarder but for people. Some of you are giving me the definition of "I can fix them." Even when a person treats you horribly, even when someone disrespects you, even when a person shows you nothing but red flags, you are always there for them ready to take whatever it is they want to give you. You literally will take whatever scraps a person will give you if it means that you feel they thought of you for a split second. A very few have FOMO. What do I mean? I mean you are staying in this toxic environment waiting for that one day or the chance of them turning their ways around and treating you the way that you truly deserve. Instead of you constantly always making excuses for their bad and wild behavior. Call a spade a spade, please. If they are not calling, being communicative, or even giving you the time of day. They are not interested. I think I have a video clip of what you need to hear, Click Here. The lady in the video speaks about men but this goes for any and all genders if I am being honest. People will do what they want to do. People will treat you how they want to treat you regardless of gender. Overall the saying being delulu is the solulu was not meant for you babe. Wake up, smell, and pour the coffee on yourself to wake up your senses to know you deserve better and there are people out here ready to give you attention, love, affection, etc and you don't have to beg or wait by the door like a dog for it.
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Pile lV:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: 9 of Wands, The Moon, 5 of Pentacles (reversed), The Emperor, 8 of Swords
Divine Feminine. Pile lV I want to hug you because I see myself in you a bit. You deal with hyper-independence badly when it comes to relationships or even in life for some of you. Just in case you don't know what that means, it means you can't release control to others because you feel like the saying "If you want something done right, do it yourself." Someone or many people in your life or even past relationships always made you feel like you always had to do everything because you can't count on everyone. You literally have to carry the whole relationship on your shoulders. You also remind me of the quote "Since I stopped texting people first, I haven't heard from a lot of people in a while." You may have also been drawn to pile lll some of you at least. Either way, you need to start operating in your divine feminine and letting the chips fall where they may. If anyone wants to be in your life the phone, intentions, etc works both ways. Let people show you how much you mean to them without needing to control every single outcome in order to not want to lose someone because you either aren't sure when or if someone else will come along or because you want this relationship to work out because you have been in so many that you are tired of leaving the chips where it may. For a few of you, I sense you may be the type that has a five year plan like you want to have kids, get married, have a few dogs, that kind of plan and you feel if you leave it up to others you will never get there. One thing I will tell you about that mindset is it will have you settling pile lV. Let people show you how they love others. If it isn't what you expect, want, or desire then you need to leave. Stop settling, stop trying to carry the entire relationship, just stop baby. You deserve to for once operate in your feminine energy. You deserve to sit back and relax while you let someone pour into you instead of the other way around.
Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.
Stay safe and be blessed
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lila-lou · 2 days
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✨ His only exception - Pt. 23/? ✨
Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, angst, hurt, PAIN(!), Ben being too rough (well, again), soft Ben
Word Count: 6482
A/N: This is part 23 of “His only exception”.
English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
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As Ben's chest stopped glowing, a sense of relief washed over both of you, the tension dissipating into the air. Without a word, he pulled your face closer, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the emotions that had been building between you for so long, a culmination of longing, desire, and love.
His heart raced against yours, matching the rhythm of your own heartbeat as you melted into each other's embrace. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of you, lost in the intensity of your connection.
Your cheeks flushed with warmth as Ben pulled you onto his lap, enveloping you in his strong arms. He was holding you close as he continued to shower you with passionate kisses. With each tender touch of his lips against yours, you felt yourself melting into his embrace, the world around you fading away as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment.
Wrapped in his arms, you felt safe.
As Ben pulled away, you allowed yourself to sink back against his chest, relishing in the warmth of his embrace. His arms around you felt like a sanctuary, offering comfort and security in the midst of chaos. You nestled more against him.
His grip was gentle yet firm, as if he were afraid to let go, afraid to lose you if he stopped holding you close.
As you stirred from your sleep the next morning, you found yourself waking to the sight of Ben slipping on the clothes you had bought for him. His grunts and displeased expression made it clear that he wasn't particularly fond of the attire you had chosen.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you watched him with a mixture of amusement and fondness, marveling at how even in the early morning light, he still managed to exude an air of rugged charm.
You tiredly asked, "What's the matter?".
Ben glanced at you and scoffed, grumbling, "Only pussies or homeless people wear fucking flannel". He adjusted the red and black flannel at its collar, the material stretching slightly over his muscular back and arms.
You couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his grumpy demeanor, finding his irritation oddly endearing in the morning light.
You teased him, "Well, I happen to think you look incredibly hot in it". Slowly, you sat up, watching him as he examined himself in the mirror.
He shot you a playful glare, though there was a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, yeah, keep talking like that, and I might just start believing you", he retorted, his voice laced with amusement.
You chuckled softly, before standing up and making your way towards the bathroom to freshen up. Ben followed closely behind, his gaze lingering on you as you stepped into the shower.
As the warm water cascaded over you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, despite the tumultuous events of the past few days. You turned to face Ben, the steam swirling around you.
You were just happy to have him back.
"So, what's the plan now?", you asked, your voice muffled slightly by the sound of running water. You hoped he wouldn't resort to seeking revenge, but deep down, you feared it might be his only plan.
Ben leaned against the bathroom doorway, his expression thoughtful as he considered your question. He ran a hand through his hair.
"I don't know", he admitted, his voice low and contemplative.
Ben's voice was steely as he continued, his eyes dark with determination. "Butcher and the other cocksuckers will pay, that´s for sure", he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You felt a chill run down your spine at the intensity of his words, knowing that Ben was deadly serious about seeking revenge.
After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower, the warm mist clinging to your skin as you reached for the towel Ben held out for you. He stood there, his muscular frame towering over you, his gaze soft yet determined as he watched you.
With a soft smile, you wrapped the towel around yourself.
Ben's gaze softened as he looked down at you, his hand gently brushing a wet strand of hair out of your face. The tender gesture sent a wave of warmth flooding through you, your heart fluttering in response.
As you met his gaze, you couldn't help but blush under his intense scrutiny. Thoughts of your confession from the night before raced through your mind, filling you with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty.
Until now, he didn´t said those words back, but he didn´t needed to. His eyes said it all. The way he had looked at you had changed.
But without a warning, thoughts of Jay, your job, and the complexities of your life flooded your mind, you couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that gripped you. Slowly, you backed away from Ben, the weight of your conflicting emotions pressing down on you.
The room felt suddenly stifling, suffocating you with the weight of your own indecision. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you grappled with the tumultuous whirlwind of emotions raging within you.
Ben's brow furrowed in concern as he noticed your retreat, his eyes searching yours for answers. "Hey, what's wrong?", he asked, his voice soft with genuine concern.
You bit your lip, struggling to find the words to express what was going on. How could you explain the tangled mess of emotions swirling in your mind—the guilt, the fear, the longing?
"I…", you began, your voice barely a whisper. "I don't know, Ben. It's just… everything".
Ben sensed your hesitation, his gaze probing as he tried to decipher the source of your unease. "Is there something you're not telling me?", he asked. Knowing you better than you ever would expect.
You swallowed hard, the weight of your secrets pressing down on you. "It's… nothing, Ben… just a lot of… emotions", you replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.
But Ben wasn't convinced. He could see through the facade you tried to maintain. With a sigh, he reached out and gently took your hand. "Get dressed", he said quietly. "We're going home".
While sitting on the plane a few hours later, Ben scrolled through the options for hotels, his vision occasionally blurred, leaving him feeling disoriented and out of sorts. He couldn't quite pinpoint the cause of the sudden change, but it gnawed at him nonetheless.
Despite his best efforts to shake off the feeling, it lingered, casting a shadow over his thoughts as he searched for a place to stay. Each passing moment only deepened his sense of unease, leaving him grappling with a strange sense of foreboding.
As the plane continued on its course, Ben couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss, a nagging sense of dread that refused to be ignored. But try as he might, he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was that troubled him so deeply.
As the plane touched down, Ben roused you from your sleep with a gentle shake, his touch slightly rougher than before. You blinked groggily, the remnants of sleep still clinging to your senses as you stirred.
"Hey, wake up", he said, his voice firm but not unkind.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you groaned in response, stretching languidly as you tried to shake off the fog of sleep. It took a moment for the realization to sink in that you had arrived at your destination.
You gathered your belongings before disembarking. Stepping into the airport terminal, you followed Ben as he led the way to the hotel. Once there, he took care of checking in while you waited on a small couch in the lobby.
As you sat, you idly played with your phone, before turning it back on.
As you turned on your phone, a call from Annie came in almost immediately. With a surge of frustration and anger bubbling inside you, you answered the call, your voice tight with emotion.
"What the fuck do you want?" you demanded, your tone edged with annoyance. "Why did you lie to me about Ben? Why was he captured? I hope you have a damn good explanation for all the bullshit you pulled!".
Annie's voice crackled through the phone, her tone strained with apprehension. "Look, I know it's a lot to take in, but there were reasons—"
"Reasons?" you interrupted, your frustration mounting. "What fucking reasons could possibly justify capturing Ben? He's been through enough already!".
The line fell silent for a moment before Annie spoke again, her voice softer this time. "I understand how you feel, but there are things you don't know. We had to make difficult decisions to keep everyone safe".
You clenched your jaw, struggling to contain your anger. "To keep everyone safe? Are you kidding me right now? Ben didn´t do anything. He even helped us with homelander!" you snapped. "Ben isn't some villain that needs to be locked away. You should have told me the damn truth from the beginning!"
Annie sighed heavily on the other end of the line, her tone apologetic. "I'm sorry, (y/n). I know you're upset, and I wish things could have been different. Just know that-…".
"I don't want to hear your excuses, Annie", you interrupted, your voice trembling with emotion. "Not fucking now! I… I hope you survive this".
With that, you ended the call, unable to bear the weight of the conversation any longer. As you stared at your phone, your hands trembling with emotion, you felt a surge of anger and sadness wash over you.
Ben approached you, his footsteps heavy with purpose as he reached your side. "Come on", he said softly. "Let's get in our room".
As his hand settled on your lower back, his touch grounding you in the present moment, you nodded in silent agreement. With a deep breath, you rose from the couch, following Ben as he led the way to your shared sanctuary for the night. Of course he could overhear the conversation.
As you sank onto the bed, exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders, you looked up at Ben, who stood before you, his expression unreadable.
"Are you going to kill them?", you asked, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them.
Ben paused for a moment, his gaze piercing as he considered your question. "I thought about it", he admitted, his voice low and gravelly. "But right now, I won't. I want them to live, but under my control. At least for now".
He moved closer, his hand resting on your shoulder. "But before I do anything", he continued, "I want to spend some time with you. Alone".
Ben pulled you close to his chest, his arms enveloping you in a protective embrace.
"How do you feel?", you asked softly.
"How do I feel?", he repeated, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Like I'm the fucking luckiest guy in the world, having you by my side".
You playfully pinched Ben's chest, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you looked up at him. Despite his flaws, you knew there was a part of Ben that genuinely cared for you.
"Are you really okay, though?", you asked. "I mean, after everything that happened, it's a lot to process".
"Stop worrying your pretty little head about me", he said in a teasing tone, his hand reaching out to playfully tousle your hair. Before you could respond, he swiftly pulled you up by your hips, lifting you effortlessly and tossing you onto the king-size bed.
You braced yourself on your arms, watching intently as Ben peeled off his flannel and shirt, revealing his sculpted arms and chiseled stomach.
"Damn", you murmured with a big smirk, unable to tear your eyes away from his body.
"Like what you see?", Ben teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he undid his belt with deliberate slowness. "Or should I put the shirt back on?".
You bit your lip. "Absolutely not", you chuckled.
"Good", he said, his voice low and husky. "Now, c'mere".
You eagerly complied, stepping closer to the edge of the bed as he approached. His commanding presence sent shivers down your spine as he stood before you, his jeans hanging low on his hips.
"Open them", he ordered.
With a mischievous glint in your eye, you reached out and deftly unbuttoned Ben's jeans, slowly, so so slowly pulling down the zipper. As you did, his bulge pressed against the fabric, eager to be released. You had easily reversed the roles.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?", he asked slightly surprised about your teasing.
You smirked up at him, reveling in the power you held over him in this moment. "Maybe a little", you replied coyly, your fingers grazing over his growing arousal.
"Come on, babe", Ben urged, his voice husky with need. "Quit teasing".
His impatience only fueled your desire to tease him further, but you relented, freeing his throbbing length from its confines.
"Get on with it", Ben ordered and gazed down at you with a hungry intensity. "Don´t use your hands".
You hesitated for a moment, feeling a surge of arousal coursing through you at his command. With a deep breath, you leaned forward, wrapping your lips around his throbbing length. As you began to suck him, you made sure to follow his instructions, keeping your hands firmly at your sides.
Ben groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided your movements. The sensation of your mouth on him sent shivers of pleasure coursing through his body, his hips instinctively moving in rhythm with your motions.
With each passing moment, the tension in the room grew, the air thick with desire as you pleasured him with your mouth alone.
"That's it," he murmured, his voice husky with arousal. "Just like that. You're doing so good".
With each passing moment, you could feel him growing harder in your mouth, his breaths becoming more ragged as pleasure washed over him.
"Keep going, baby".
Ben groaned with pleasure as he felt himself nearing the edge, impressed by your quick learning and eager enthusiasm. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled himself out of your mouth, his fingers curling around your chin as he surprisingly gentle lifted you up onto your knees.
"Turn around".
You complied without hesitation, feeling a shiver of anticipation coursing through you as you shifted to face away from him, presenting yourself to him eagerly.
You felt a rush of excitement as Ben pulled down your jeans and panties, exposing your ass and wet folds to his hungry gaze. A soft moan escaped your lips as you felt his hands caress your skin, his touch sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.
His fingers trailed along the curve of your ass, teasingly brushing against your wetness before parting your folds, his breath hot against your skin as he took in the sight before him.
"You're so fucking wet", Ben growled as he continued to spread your folds, his fingers tracing the outline of your dripping slit.
You whimpered in response, your body trembling with anticipation.
As Ben grabbed his dick at the base and ran the tip through your slick folds.
With each teasing stroke, your desire for him grew more intense, your body aching to be filled by him. You moaned softly, your breath coming in short gasps as you arched your back, pressing your ass against him in silent encouragement.
With each teasing stroke of his tip against your slick folds, your arousal grew, your need for him becoming almost unbearable. You pleaded with him, your voice thick with desire as you begged for him to finally take you.
But Ben remained steadfast, his grin widening as he relished in your desperation. "Not yet", he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "I want to make you beg for it".
You groaned in frustration, your body throbbing with need as you strained against him, desperate for release.
But that's what you get for thinking it would be a good idea to tease Soldier Boy.
You rolled your eyes in annoyance.
As Ben raised an eyebrow, his expression turning more amused, he couldn't help but notice the sound of your eyes rolling in frustration. "Did you just roll your eyes at me?", he asked incredulously, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
Before you could respond, he squeezed your ass cheek firmly, his grip strong enough to leave a bruise. The sudden pressure sent a jolt of pleasure through you, causing you to gasp in surprise. "You know better than to be fucking disrespectful", he chided playfully, his voice low and husky with desire.
With a playful grin, you glanced back at Ben over your shoulder, teasingly asking, "Want an apology now?".
Before you could react, Ben delivered a slap to your ass. You gasped at the sudden sting, feeling a rush of heat spreading through your body. "How's that for an fucking apology?".
Ben paused for a moment, studying your reaction closely. A sly grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he realized the effect his actions were having on you.
"You kinda like that, don't you?", he teased, his voice low and husky as he observed you.
You blushed furiously, but Ben couldn't see your face from his position behind you. "Maybe", you admitted, your voice tinged with embarrassment as you squirmed slightly under his touch.
Ben chuckled softly, his voice husky with desire as he teased, "Well, maybe I'll have to explore that a bit more later".
With a firm grip on your hips, he pulled you back against him, aligning his throbbing cock with your dripping pussy. The anticipation sent shivers down your spine as you felt the head of his length pressing against your slick folds, teasing you with the promise of pleasure to come.
With a slow, deliberate motion, Ben pushed himself inside you, inch by inch, until he was fully seated deep within your wet warmth. You gasped at the sensation.
He groaned lowly, his hips rocking gently against yours as he relished in the exquisite pleasure of being joined with you.
You whimpered beneath him, the slow, lazy pace driving you to the brink of madness. Each deliberate thrust sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins, but it wasn't enough to satisfy the burning desire building inside you.
You struggled against him, craving more, but Ben held you firmly in place, his grip unyielding as he continued to pound into you with agonizing slowness. His actions felt like a punishment for your earlier disrespect, and you couldn't help but squirm beneath him, desperate for release.
"Ben… please", you begged, your voice thick with need as you pleaded with him to go faster, to give you more.
But Ben remained unfazed, his movements calculated and controlled. "Not yet", he murmured huskily.
You clenched your teeth, frustration bubbling inside you as you struggled to maintain your composure.
"Come on, Ben", you whined, your voice tinged with irritation. "Stop being such a dick and just fuck me already".
Your words hung in the air, and for a moment, there was silence as Ben paused, his gaze darkening with amusement. Then, without warning, he gripped your hips tightly and drove into you with a sudden, forceful thrust that stole your breath away.
"Is that what you want, sweetheart?", he growled. "You want me to fuck you hard and fast until you can't think straight?".
You nodded eagerly, your body pulsing with need as you surrendered to the pleasure of his dominance.
With a wicked grin, Ben leaned down, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he whispered teasingly in your ear. "You want it rough, huh? Thought you didn´t like it", he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Well, you better be careful what you wish for, sweetheart. You might just get more than you bargained for".
Despite the warning in his tone, you couldn't help but moan in anticipation, the thought of his rough touch igniting a fire deep within you. You knew you'd be sore tomorrow, but right now, all you could think about was the exquisite pleasure of his dominance. You needed it.
“Take me like you would if I were a Supe,” you pleaded.
Your desperate plea hung in the air as Ben stilled above you, his expression unreadable for a few heart-stopping moments. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "You have no idea what you're asking for", he warned, his tone tinged with a hint of concern.
But you were beyond reason, consumed by the fiery desire coursing through your veins. "I can handle it", you insisted, your voice breathless with need. "Please, Ben, I need it".
He regarded you for a long moment. As he leaned down, his lips grazing your ear as he murmured huskily, "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you".
Ben began to move inside you with his usual intensity, well, a slighter version of it, the grip of his hands on your hips tightened, bruising your skin and making it feel as though your hipbones might break under the pressure. Despite the forcefulness of his thrusts, there was a deliberate restraint in his movements, a careful balance between his desire and his need to protect you from the full extent of his strength.
With each powerful thrust, you felt a mixture of pleasure and pain coursing through your body, the sensation heightened by the knowledge of the immense power Ben possessed. Despite the discomfort, there was an undeniable thrill in surrendering to his dominance, in allowing him to take you with such raw, primal force.
For Ben, the struggle to hold back his superhuman strength was a constant battle. As he moved inside you, he focused on maintaining control, on channeling his desire into measured, controlled movements that conveyed both his passion and his restraint.
As you surrendered to the intensity of the moment, a part of you acknowledged the immense restraint Ben showed in holding back his superhuman strength. Deep down, you knew that if he were to unleash his full power, he could easily shatter your fragile human form.
Yet, there was a twisted thrill in knowing that he held back for you, that his desire to protect you outweighed his own primal instincts. It was a reminder of the depth of his feelings for you, of the lengths he would go to ensure your safety, even at the cost of his own pleasure.
But you struggled to contain the wild, reckless desire brewing within you.
With a voice laced with desperation, you whispered, "Just one time, Ben. I want to feel all of it, even if just for a moment. I need to know… I need to feel…".
Your words trailed off, your heart pounding with anticipation and fear. You knew the risks, the potential consequences of inviting such power into your fragile human body. But in that moment, the allure of experiencing Ben's full strength, even for a fleeting moment, overwhelmed all sense of reason.
Ben hesitated, his gaze on your small back, as he grappled with the weight of your request. His jaw clenched, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before being replaced by determination.
"You don't understand", he began, his voice low and tinged with frustration. "I can't… I won't risk hurting you. Not like that".
As you looked over your shoulder, a mix of desire and frustration evident in your eyes, Ben's resolve wavered. He knew he should resist, that giving in to your request could have dangerous consequences. Yet, the primal urge to satisfy your desires warred with his sense of responsibility to keep you safe.
With a deep exhale, Ben leaned back slightly, his gaze locked with yours as he searched for any sign of hesitation or doubt. But all he found was unwavering determination mirrored in your eyes, a silent plea urging him to give in to your desires.
His hand trembled slightly as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. "Alright. If that's what you want…", he relented, his voice husky with desire. "But just this once".
His words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of their implications.
With a firm grip on your waist, Ben's hands tensed as he prepared to unleash his full strength. With a low growl, he thrust into you with force, the sheer power behind his movement catching you off guard.
The impact was jarring, sending a bolt of pain shooting through your body as you jolted forward in response. The intensity of his thrust was almost too much to bear, each movement driving you to the brink of pleasure and pain.
As he continued to drive into you with relentless force, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, the line between pleasure and pain blurring into a haze of raw sensation.
As tears mingled with sweat on your flushed cheeks, you lay flat on the mattress, your body trembling beneath the weight of Ben's relentless thrusts. Each movement sent shockwaves of pain through your core, but a fierce determination burned within you, urging you to endure for Ben's sake.
Despite the agony coursing through your veins, you gritted your teeth and clung to the edge of the mattress, willing yourself to withstand the overwhelming force of Ben's desire. With each painful thrust, you offered yourself up to him, determined to give him what he desired, no matter the cost.
Beneath the weight of his strength, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of surrender.
As Ben reached the peak of his desire, he came with a intensity that rocked both of you to the core. With a deep groan, he released himself deep inside you, filling you with his warmth as your body trembled beneath him.
The sensation was overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you as you gasped for breath, your senses reeling from the sheer intensity of the moment. Ben collapsed above you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as you both struggled to catch your breath.
As Ben slowly pulled out, a mixture of his cum and a trace of blood from your tender flesh trickled down your folds, evidence of the intensity of your encounter. The pain in your pussy and lower belly was palpable, rendering you unable to move as you lay there.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air heavy with the weight of what had just transpired. Ben's expression changed as he looked down at you, concern flickering in his eyes as he took in your state.
"You okay?", he asked carefully, his voice laced with genuine worry.
Ben settled beside you, he gently lifted your chin, coaxing you to meet his gaze. Seeing the tears pooling in your eyes, frustration creased his brow, a mixture of concern and regret evident in his expression.
Ben let go of your chin, his expression weighed down by a heavy sense of regret and frustration. "I knew this was a fucking bad idea", he muttered, his voice tinged with anger at himself. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident in the way his fingers clenched into fists.
You winced as you shifted on the bed, the pain in your body still raw from the intensity of his thrusts. You could feel his anger radiating off him, his frustration palpable in the tension that hung between you.
His gaze wandered over your body, taking in the sight of the blood between your legs, his heart clenching with a mix of concern and anger. "I can't believe you fucking wanted that", he muttered, his voice laced with frustration.
You reached out to cup his face, a silent plea in your eyes, but he swiftly took your hand away and got up from the bed. His movements were tense and rigid as he paced the room. He had promised himself that he would never hurt you again and yet he did it again.
After a few minutes, Ben came back from the bathroom and carefully picked you up. You could see Ben was hurt. You had pressured him into something he didn't really wanted to do. And now he was angry. Angry with himself.
His face remained tense as he carried you into the bathroom without a word, his arms strong and sure as he cradled you in his embrace. Despite the anger simmering beneath the surface, there was a hint of concern in his eyes as he gently lowered you into the warm water of the bathtub.
As you sank into the soothing embrace of the water, you felt a sense of relief wash over you, the pain beginning to ebb away slightly with each passing moment. But Ben's tension remained palpable, his jaw clenched as he busied himself with adjusting the temperature of the water.
You reached out again, your hand trembling as you gently grasped Ben's, pulling it away from the tap. "Please, Ben", you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Look at me".
Ben's gaze flickered towards you, his expression pained as he met your eyes. He hated himself in that moment, his heart heavy with the weight of his actions. The realization of how close he had come to causing you serious harm gnawed at him, filling him with a deep sense of regret.
"If I had lost control… if I had hurt you worse…", he trailed off, unable to voice the thoughts that plagued him. Despite his superhuman abilities, he was only too aware of the fragility of your human form, and the thought of causing you such pain or worse was unbearable.
You reached out, gently cupping Ben's face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. "I wanted it, Ben", you insisted, your voice steady despite the pain coursing through your body. "I knew the risks, and I wanted it anyway".
Ben looked into your eyes, his expression conflicted. He remained squatting beside the bathtub, his eyes fixed on the soft red hue of the water, lost in his own thoughts.
Ben let out a frustrated grumble, his brows furrowing as he wrestled with his own inner turmoil. "I'm older than you", he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration. "I should know better. I'm the fucking supe, damn it. I've got the power, and I need to be the one to know how to handle it".
His words carried a weight of responsibility and self-recrimination, his frustration evident in the way he clenched his fists at his sides.
You let go of his hand. “Ben, I know you’re trying to protect me”, you said softly, your voice filled with empathy. “But sometimes, I need you to trust me too. Trust that I can handle myself, even in situations like this”.
Ben's shoulders tensed at your words, a hint of frustration flickering across his features. "Trust you?", he spat out sarcastically, his tone laced with bitterness. "Yeah, I saw how well you handled yourself back there".
His words stung. Yet, beneath his bitterness, you sensed a deeper struggle within him.
Ben rose to his feet, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern as he looked down at you. "I just don't want to see you get hurt anymore", he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "Especially not because of me. I promised you I would never hurt you and-…".
You reached out, grasping his hand in yours once more, your touch gentle yet firm. "I know", you replied softly, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. "But sometimes, taking risks is worth it, if it means being with you".
Ben let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as he processed your words. "Just take your fucking bath", he muttered, his tone resigned as he turned and left the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.
Alone in the bathroom, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the way things had unfolded between you and Ben. But deep down, you knew that despite the challenges and disagreements, your bond with him was stronger than ever.
As you stepped out of the bathroom, the warm steam dissipating around you, you found Ben sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in his thoughts. His brow furrowed in concentration, he seemed unaware of your presence as he stared off into the distance.
Taking tiny, pain-filled steps, you approached him cautiously. Despite the tension that lingered between you, you couldn't bear the thought of leaving things unresolved.
"Ben", you called softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood before him, uncertain of how to break through the wall of silence that enveloped him.
As Ben slowly looked up, his gaze meeting yours, you braced yourself for what might come next. But to your surprise, instead of a stern expression or harsh words, he pulled you gently onto his lap.
You held your breath, uncertain of his intentions, but then he cupped your cheek tenderly before pressing his lips softly against yours. In that moment, all the tension and uncertainty melted away, replaced by a rush of warmth and affection that enveloped you both.
As you mumbled an apology for pushing him, Ben silenced you with another kiss, his lips soft yet firm against yours. He held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you, as if he never wanted to let you go.
After a few moments, Ben pulled away, his gaze locking with yours as he spoke softly. "You're all I have", he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity.
His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their meaning, as you felt the depth of his emotions wash over you.
As Ben kissed you again, his lips conveying a depth of emotion that words couldn't express, you felt a rush of warmth flooding through you, you never felt before. With gentle yet possessive hands, he guided you onto the bed, his body hovering above yours as he continued to shower you with kisses.
Lost in the intensity of the moment, you melted into his embrace, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours, the weight of his body pressing against you.
Ben's lips traced a path from your jaw to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. In a low, husky voice, he whispered, "I won't ever do this again, no matter how much you fucking beg".
His words carried a weight of finality, a promise made in earnest. Despite the lingering desire between you, he was determined to protect you, even from yourself.
With a soft, almost pleading tone, you murmured, "But you said it yourself, Ben. You needed this. You needed to be able to get rid of your tension".
Your words hung in the air, a reminder of the complexities of your relationship and the conflicting desires that pulled you together.
Ben pulled away, his gaze intense as he searched your eyes for the truth. "Is that the reason why you asked for this?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and disbelief.
You nodded softly, your heart pounding in your chest as you met his gaze. "Yeah", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Ben's expression hardened, his frustration boiling over. "Are you for fucking real?", he snapped, his tone sharp and cutting.
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you struggled to find the right words. "I just can't stand the thought of you being with someone else", you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion. "Especially because I know I can't give you what you need".
Tension hung heavy in the air between you as Ben processed your words, his expression softening slightly as he reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face.
"Listen. I know I can be fucking difficult sometimes", he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm not used to… this", he continued, gesturing between the two of you. "But I'm not fucking dumb. I got the point loud and clear about how you feel about what happened with the hooker at the strip club".
Ben let out a heavy sigh as he noticed your lingering uncertainty. "I won't do something like that again", he assured you, rolling his eyes slightly. "But that doesn't mean you have to put yourself in danger just to satisfy me".
His words carried a note of frustration, his concern for your well-being evident in the way he held you close to him.
You felt Ben's lips brush against yours in a tender peck before he pulled back, his gaze immediately drifting towards your lower body. "So, how do you feel?", he inquired softly, his concern evident in his voice.
With a slight grimace, you admitted, "My belly hurts, and I'm fucking sore".
Ben's hand gently wandered down to your lower belly, hovering right above the hem of your panties. "Here?", he asked softly, his touch tentative as he awaited your response.
You nodded.
Feeling your confirmation, Ben's touch remained gentle as he traced his fingertips lightly over the sensitive skin of your lower belly. He furrowed his brow in concern, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he assessed your reaction.
"Does it hurt a lot?", he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern as he continued to caress your skin.
You sucked in your bottom lip and nodded again.
Gently, he applied a bit more pressure and with it some heat with his hand, trying to alleviate some of the pain radiating from your lower belly.
As Ben lay down on the bed, he pulled you close into his arms, pressing you carefully against him. His warm hand remained on your belly.
"Get some fucking sleep, sweetheart", he murmured against the top of your head.
You closed your eyes, feeling the tension slowly ebbing away as you started to relax.
———————————
A/N: Just look at that ass, damn it. He´s fucking 46 but Fuuuuck, he´s sooo fine.
And of course, Please let me know what you think.🥰
-
Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee
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scoonsalicious · 2 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sexual situations, descriptions of violence.
Word Count: 838
Previously On...: Nat revealed that Jade was a Hydra agent. You told Bucky, you kissed. He left you very confused.
A/N: IT'S TIME! THIS CHAPTER IS NUTS!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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The next morning, Bucky acted as though nothing unusual had happened between you two the night before, so you opted to follow his lead and pretend your mind and heart weren’t a jumble of conflicting thoughts and emotions. 
You discussed mission strategy over breakfast. Or, rather, Bucky came up with a strategy and you argued with him against it.
“I’m not comfortable with you leavin’ the safehouse alone with Carthage out there,” he said as he stabbed into his defenseless scrambled eggs. “We don’t know where she is, or what she’s planning. I’m not gonna risk your safety just so you can go back to that club.”
“I’m not totally helpless, Barnes!” You waved your fork in his general direction. “Believe it or not, but I’m quite capable of taking care of myself!”
Bucky shook his head, snorting a dismissive laugh. You narrowed your eyes at him. “What? You think I’m weak?”
“Never said that, doll,” he offered, putting his hands up, “but Carthage is a Hydra-trained super soldier. Even Nat wouldn’t be able to take her if she was out for blood.”
You felt the wind of your righteous indignation leave your sails, so you pouted. “I still have a gun,” you countered petulantly. “She’s not impervious to bullets.”
Bucky laughed. “Oh yeah? Enlighten me then, doll: where you gonna stash that gun for safekeeping while you’re out there doin’ your thing? In your g-string?”
“Yeah, alright,” you conceded, “maybe I haven’t thought that part through! But I’m not going to let some fear of her keep me from doing what I need to do in order to stop more women from being abducted!”
“I’m not askin’ you to, sweets.” Bucky put down his fork and looked at you. “I’m just askin’ that you don’t go out by yourself, don’t put yourself at any unnecessary risk, is all.” You couldn’t really argue with that; it was a sound point, after all. 
“I’ve still got to do my shifts at the club,” you said. “It’s our only source of leads and I can’t just stop showing up if I want them to keep them from getting suspicious.”
Bucky crossed his arms and leaned back on the kitchen stool. “Fine,” he offered after a moment’s contemplation. “Then I’ll come with you.”
Though you’d done it for thousands of strangers before now, the idea of getting up on stage and performing a strip tease, knowing that Bucky was in the audience, made your entire body flush. “I… don’t know if that’s necessarily a great idea,” you admitted.
“Why?” Bucky’s face momentarily soured. “You worried having the Winter Soldier show up is going to blow your cover?”
You flinched at your old words being thrown back in your face. “No,” you said. “Come on, you’ve got to know the only reason I said that was because, at the time, I was so fucking angry at you, I could have ripped your dick off with my bare hands and shoved it down the garbage disposal.”
Bucky’s eyes went so wide, it was comical. “Well,” he swallowed, “that is a very disturbing and traumatizing visualization… but seeing how your rage was completely justified, I’ll just … silently carry the image with me for the rest of my life.”
You shot him a look. “Dramatic much?” you asked him. “But for real, it would feel weird, getting naked up on stage knowing you were there.”
Bucky leaned back and studied you, his tongue running over his bottom lip. “Nothin’ I haven’t seen hundreds of times already, doll,” he said, voice so husky that your thighs clenched. “And from a lot more intimate angles, at that.”
You blushed and ducked your head. “Yeah,” you said after clearing your throat, “but you’ll be sharing the experience with a bunch of other drunk guys. That sound like a good time to you?”
The frown that etched itself across Bucky’s lips appeared so quickly you had to stifle a laugh. “Remind me again why you ever even agreed to take this mission in the first place,” he said, crossing his arms petulantly. 
You glared back at him. “You know very well why I–”
Your phone buzzed. Picking it up from the table, you saw an incoming message from Nat. “She’s emailed me a link to the security footage she got from her KGB contacts,” you told Bucky once you’d read the message. “Clips of Carthage in the Hydra base; she’s edited the significant ones together for us.”
“Let’s see it, then,” he said, getting up and moving around to the other side of the kitchen island to stand over your shoulder.
“You sure you want to look at it?” you asked him cautiously, opening up your laptop. “I don’t want it to be triggering for you. Especially if she’s put through the same kind of shit you were.”
Bucky rested a hand on your shoulder. “Play it,” he commanded gently. “I’ll be fine.”
Casting him a final, skeptical glance, you opened Nat’s email and clicked on the link.
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serverusslaype · 3 days
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Shameless, pt. 15
Severus Snape x professor!reader fic
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Shameless Masterpost
hey guys.................. dont kill me. i'm so sorry for the incredibly lengthy hiatus.... i had no motivation, each time i opened the file to type i'd type a couple words, maybe a paragraph and close it. i finally found the motivation to finish this chapter recently, i'm hoping it stays. it's been a rough couple months, so hoping this can help me feel a bit better!!
i felt really guilty for sort of abandoning the fic where it was, but i couldn't force myself to write anything, there was no creative juice, i think i sort of burnt myself out. and for the previous posts saying i was back, i thought i was, but i'd have the smallest spark of inspiration and try to write, but then nothing happened, and i felt bad so i didn't want to say something like, sorry, i lied. :(
hopefully this chapter is okay, i know most of you won't like it, but i'm so glad i finally finished it, it was one of the hardest to write because i had so many ideas on how it'd end and effect the whole story itself, so i had to make sure it made sense.
i can't believe you guys are still here after so long, it made me emotional to see all of your asks and comments and likes, i was just floored to be honest, so thank you so much for your unwavering support. i love you all so so much. honestly. holy shit. this has been a journey. <3 i hope you guys are all doing brilliantly.
warnings: lack of snape, swearing, mentions of adultery, slight domestic violence, verbal abuse at the end
You didn't know where to go. You felt... lost. You couldn't exactly go back to your quarters, not with Ben there, you didn't need more questions about why you were crying your eyes out at this time of night. It's not like you could tell him the truth.
So, you did what anyone would: go for a midnight walk. Well, at least that's what you thought anyone would do when they had nowhere to go. You'd hoped that the fresh, cold air would soothe your burning lungs, and the gentle breeze would dry your teary eyes. In an even deeper, darker part of your mind, you also hoped that Black would find you. Perhaps that would make everything... easier.
With tears still streaming freely from your eyes and heavy feet, you padded towards the large, magnificent doors that led to the outside with your arms wrapped around your body tightly; trying your best not to breakdown until you were alone. Your hands were still shaking as you pushed them against the doors, opening it a tad as the cool wind blew through the crack and into your face. You gasped a little at the sharp breeze, but nonetheless you slipped out, and made your way into the courtyard. The temperature was a little more biting than you had anticipated, and so you squeezed your arms around yourself a little tighter, walking towards the infamous wooden, crooked bridge.
As you sauntered through the courtyard, the only noises you heard were the owls hooting in the distance, the gentle breeze brushing through the burnt-amber leaved trees and the faint clack of your heels against the cobblestoned ground. In all honesty, it did feel a little eerie to the say the least, but at this very moment that was the least of your worries. All you wanted was a little time alone to cry, or grieve what could have been with ...Severus.
Gods, it hurt to even think his name, let alone speak it.
You reached the wooden bridge, and you stopped in the middle of it; leaning against the intricately carved columns to gaze out at the highlands. The moonlight casted a gorgeous glaze-like reflection upon the Black Lake, and it twinkled beautifully, almost hypnotising you like an illusion. Your eyes flicked up to the moon and glanced around it, staring at the glittering stars surrounding it like a perfect painting. Only times like this did you miss teaching Astronomy. As your mind reeled back to your first year teaching at Hogwarts, you relished in the time where you did not know the man named Severus Snape, and suddenly your heart sank in your chest like an anchor dropped at sea. You were so naive back then, unknowing of what was to come.
As the memories of you and Severus flooded your mind like a dam breaking, you let yourself cry. You could still feel his lips on yours, his fingertips gently tracing the curves and grooves of your skin, the words he'd whispered into your ear - it was all there, stained on your skin, like a tattoo - or perhaps a branding. And now you had to live with it. You weren't sure if you'd survive this time, especially not with how deeply you felt for him. You were torn between pretending he didn't exist and trying to talk to him, perhaps even telling him how you felt, but truth be told you were petrified of how he'd react. Would he even look at you again with those glittering black eyes you'd come to adore so hopelessly? Would he dare speak to you again, knowing that he'd charmed you? Maybe he'd relish in the fact that he'd done so, take pride in bewitching you, and make you hurt for it. You knew Snape could be rather cruel, your school days here with him as your teacher was enough for you to know that.
All these unanswered questions swam through your head and you felt yourself becoming suffocated from them, and it suddenly felt as if your lungs had filled with water, drowning you. You sobbed helplessly as you slid down the wooden wall behind you with your hands against your face, the rough edges scratching your back through your clothes rather uncomfortably.
"Y/N?" A voice came from beside you, and you froze. You turned your head away from them and quickly used your sleeve to wipe your eyes, drying the tears that had fallen from them. Only one person has a voice as soft as the one you had just heard.
You gave yourself a moment to gather yourself before even attempting to use your voice.
"Hello, Remus." You croaked quietly, sniffling.
"What on Earth are you doing out here so late?" He questioned gently, and you heard him take a step towards you. "Are you alright?"
"Quite dandy," you sarcastically quipped, sighing deeply, "I'm brilliant..." You turned your head to face him, and immediately, his face softened at the sight of your own. You were sat up against the side of the bridge, knees up against your chest and your arms wrapped around them; nose and eyes red, wet with tears. Remus quickly dropped down to his knees beside you, placing a soothing hand upon your forearm.
"What happened?" Remus asked, careful to keep his voice quiet and soft. With empty eyes, you stared into his worried ones, and instantly you felt terrible. The last thing you wanted was people worrying over you.
You looked away, down at the ground. "I..." you mumbled, sighing, "it's a... long... story." You spoke slowly. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small smile quirk up on Remus's lips.
"I've got time, my dear." He replied as his thumb brushed your forearm, silently encouraging you to talk. You felt at ease in Remus's presence, it was almost like he had a calm aura around him, and naturally your body relaxed beside his. You took a deep breath.
"Erm," you choked, sniffling again, "it's Se... Snape." You couldn't bring yourself to say his first name without crumbling into a million pieces.
Remus let out a gentle breath. "Snape, of course," He tutted, glancing between you and the ground. "What's he done?" The fact that Remus reacted like he had expected Snape to have hurt you, further broke your heart. Were you the only one to have seen through his icy exterior?
"Broken my heart," You laughed dryly, and you had to fight back another bout of tears. Remus's brows furrowed in confusion at you. "We... I... Look, I'm not sure how to explain this to you. But... I fell..." You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. Your heart hurt too much. You only hoped that Remus knew what you were about to say.
Remus blinked and stared at you, shocked. Clearly, the two of you had hidden your 'relationship' well - so well that everyone was oblivious to it. "You fell...?" He frowned.
"In love... with him..." You almost whispered, avoiding Remus's eyes. You weren't sure if you'd be able to handle the look in them.
"You're in love with... Severus?" Remus repeated, and you squeezed your eyes shut at his words. They were like daggers, stabbing your bleeding heart. It was almost like you could feel it trembling inside of your chest, begging you to free it from this cycle of torment. "But... Aren't you with... Ben? And... Severus... he's..."
"I know," you sighed, noticing his confusion, "I had feelings for Severus before I met Ben. And it sort of just, like, spiralled out of control, and now, erm, here I am- Gods, I should have just listened to Minerva, I wouldn't be here right now, hurting like this." You ranted, another strangled sob leaving your throat. Remus watched you, and his eyes softened. He felt terrible for you. "She warned me, Remus, why didn't I just listen to her?!" You cried, letting your head fall into your hands.
"Y/N," Remus whispered, reaching out a cautious hand to pry your face from your hands. With a soft gasp, you looked up with teary eyes, and he wiped a stray tear from your cheek. "We don't get to choose who we do and don't fall in love with. We follow our hearts blindly, most of the time, unknowingly." He said, and moved his hand from your wet cheek to your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. "It's beyond our control who we love."
There was a moment of silence.
"...What do I do, Remus?" You sobbed softly, sniffling, looking at your knees.
"Have you told him?"
"No."
"I think you should."
"But what about Ben? Shouldn't I... deal with... that first?" You sniffled again. "And what if Severus doesn't feel the same way about me? Then what?"
Remus paused for a moment, thinking. You looked up at him. "What if he does?" He said, a small, comforting smile tickling his lips as he stared at you.
"Well- from the way he treated me earlier... I truly doubt it, Remus." You scoffed, glancing away from his pitying brown eyes.
Remus sighed, and you clenched your jaw. "Regret is a terrible thing, Y/N," he said, "it's such a short word, yet it stretches on forever." Your eyes were glued on the ground and your body was still, but your mind was running a million miles an hour.
You sat there in silence for a short moment, thinking deeply. Remus was right. You'd regret it for the rest of your life if you didn't tell Severus how you felt. That chance of him reciprocating your feelings was small, but it was still there. If he didn't feel the same, fine, you'd move on. Eventually. And if he did?...
"...Alright," You nodded sheepishly. "I'll tell him. I just... need to, erm, work out when and more specifically, how. Like, do I just straight up blurt it out? Work my way up to it? H-how do you know it's the right time?" You rambled with tears still falling from your eyes, glancing through them at Remus who sat beside you with a soft expression upon his features.
"You'll know." Was all he said before slowly standing and holding out a hand for you to take. Graciously, you took it, and Remus pulled you to your feet. "Feel better?" He hummed, casting a glance out at the moon, then a worried look suddenly struck his eyes. You noticed and frowned slightly at his behaviour.
The moon?
"A little." You forced a smile upon your lips, and lifted up a hand to wipe the remaining stray tears upon your red cheeks. Remus looked back at you, and returned your smile. "How come you were out so late?" You asked curiously, brushing off his odd reaction to seeing a moon.
"A walk in the night does me good," Remus shrugged, and began to walk back towards the castle with you beside him. "Clears my head."
"Ah, well, I suppose I'm glad you found me, then." You chuckled awkwardly, folding your arms against your chest.
Remus smiled at you and placed an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. "Let's get you back to your quarters, Y/N, you look like an ice block." He hummed and lead you back to the castle, but not before throwing another glance over his shoulder to the almost-full-moon.
Faint, footsteps trailed down an empty corridor, and a billowing black cape followed with it. As Severus marched, his chest felt horribly heavy, almost like there was a boulder chained to it, weighing him down. He couldn't figure out why he felt like this, and it was starting to make him a little irate. He knew it was something to do with you since it had started after you'd stormed out of his office.
As Severus was about to round a corner, the sound of familiar, sweet laughter rattled through his bones, and immediately he froze. Without a doubt, he knew it was you. Only you could have laughter that sounded like the sweet songs that birds chirped in the summer mornings. The breath in his lungs suddenly vanished and he quickly swooped himself behind a bookcase, poking his head out from the side of it to see who you were with.
The moment you appeared, that boulder chained to his chest became heavier, and he felt himself lean against the bookcase he hid behind. Severus's eyes widened as they glued themselves to the man beside you - Remus Lupin. His blood boiled at the sight.
What could have Lupin have said to make you laugh like that? He'd only heard you laugh like that when you were with him, not Lupin.
From a distance, he couldn't make out what the two of you were talking about, but it was obviously hilarious. Severus's jaw clenched as he watched Lupin place a hand upon the small of your back, guiding you.
Guiding you... inside your quarters?
Snape hissed silently to himself as he stared, his sharp and hardened eyes welded to the back of Lupin's head like molten metal. As your door shut, Snape could only huff in disgust with bared teeth. What were the two of you doing in there? It was past midnight and you and Lupin seemed happy as Larry to go into your quarters. Snape couldn't bear the idea of you and Lupin alone together - let alone the fact that Lupin had had his damned, grubby paws on you. Severus clenched his jaw in a violent fashion, very clearly upset at how you'd moved on so quickly, especially with another professor at Hogwarts. Was this your thing? Bewitch every lonely professor that you laid your wretched eyes upon and then move onto the next? Did it make you feel better about yourself in some fucked up way?
An uneasy, bitter feeling twisted inside of his chest as he pictured the two of you alone and he whipped around out of spite; the swoosh of his long, black cloak filling the silent hallway. How could you move on so quickly, so... easily? 
"Never did I think I'd see the day that someone told me they fell in love with a man like Severus Snape." Remus laughed softly as he waddled to your sofa, glancing at you as if to ask if it was alright to sit. You nodded at him.
"And yet here we are." You hummed with a flat mouth, clearly not as amused as your friend was. "Sometimes I wish I was as emotionally guarded as he was, but then I remember how bloody miserable that would be." You mumbled, earning an abrupt laugh from Lupin who'd settled on the couch with a soft sigh.
Ben was nowhere to be seen, so you assumed he was asleep in the bedroom.
"Severus is an interesting character, most definitely," Lupin nodded and you turned around, walking towards him to join him on the sofa. "And I applaud you for being able to tame him. If it's any consolation, only one other woman had been able to, though I think it was... unintentional, if you will."
"Unintentional?" You questioned, your tone curious. Though almost instantly, that curiosity was killed as the thought of Severus with another woman stabbed at your fragile heart. "Actually, I'm not sure if I want to hear this right now." A dry laugh slipped from your lips and you exhaled sharply as another wave of tears prickled at your waterline.
"Alright." Lupin said softly, taking notice of your quivering voice. He stood up with a breathy groan and shuffled towards you, slinking an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. It was calming, and the way he hugged you reminded you of all the times your parents would comfort you as a child. As Lupin gave you a supportive squeeze, it was as if he'd accidently pushed the button for the waterworks - hot tears began to stream down your cheeks once again, and you sobbed quietly into his wrinkled shirt.
"Hey," Lupin sighed as he watched your shoulders shake with sorrow. His hand sat on the top of your arm, squeezing it gently: a dire attempt at consoling you. "Don't cry, Y/N, it'll pass."
"Idon'twantitto-" You mumbled into his shirt, sniffling loudly. Lupin's brows furrowed together in confusion as he paused for a brief moment, silently trying to decipher what you'd just said.
"What?" He asked gently, leaning his head down so he could hear you a little better. You lifted your head from him, sighing, another heartbreaking sniffle sneaking out of your reddened nose.
"I don't want it to." You repeated yourself, lifting a hand up to wipe your wet eyes lazily.
"I know. But it will." Lupin sighed too. "Severus is... a very... damaged man," He cringed slightly at his choice of words, but he continued, "I'm not even sure that you could help him- or fix him."
At this point, you were staring soullessly at the floor, and the only thing you could feel was Lupin's chest against your shoulders. Were you and Severus really a lost case? You felt like you'd made so much progress, he'd opened up to you, he'd... he also ran away again. Perhaps your friend Remus is right.
"I think I want to be alone." You suddenly blurted out, slowly glancing up at the professor with glossy, red eyes. Lupin blinked at you, confused for a moment, though he quickly came to. He didn't blame you for saying such a thing - you'd just had your heart ripped out, to put it simply.
Remus didn't say anything, he only nodded, offering you a kind, yet pitiful smile - and that hurt you slightly. You didn't want his pity, in fact, you didn't want anyone's pity. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." He muttered, brushing a hand through your hair softly. You shut your eyes for a moment and sighed, a small gush of guilt filling your body. Here Lupin was, trying to console you, and you're kicking him out. You hoped he didn't take it personally.
"I'm sorry, I... I just need to be alone." You quickly offered. Remus shook his head and frowned at you.
"No, I understand. See you in the morning, Y/N. Feel better soon." The professor smiled at you and this time it wasn't rich with pity, but kindness. He tipped his head at you and began to shuffle his way towards the door, opening it with a quiet creak from the oak. Before he disappeared out of your chambers, Remus turned around and smiled at you once more, slipping away.
Seconds after the door shut, a drowsy-looking Ben opened your bedroom door, popping his head out. He squinted at the bright light, clearly having just woken up. That settled your nerves slightly, since you'd just spoken about Severus with Remus, only a few metres away from Ben.
"Are you crying?" Ben yawned, his bushy brows furrowed in either confusion or annoyance - at this point you couldn't tell.
"No," You coughed and turned around to pretend to do something else as you wiped at your eyes. "I'm fine, go back to bed, Ben." A curt sigh fell from your lips, and almost immediately you heard footsteps padding closer to you. "I'm fine." You repeated, listening as his feet stopped behind you.
"What happened?" Ben asked, the tiniest hint of sympathy in his voice made you shiver slightly.
"Nothing, it was just a rough day at work, honestly. I'd rather not talk about it." Your brows shot together as you tried to keep the tears at bay, but you couldn't help but think about Severus as Ben placed a hand on your waist in an attempt to pry you away from the countertop and towards him. You didn't want anyone else's hands on you but his.
"Hey," Ben said softly, though it felt heavy in your chest. "It's work. It won't matter in a day or two." You were silent. "Y/N?"
"I need a drink." You muttered and forced yourself to look at Ben, cringing slightly as you walked past him and towards a glossy wooden cabinet in the corner of your chambers. You rarely drank, and if you did, it was to either celebrate something, or forget something.
Another uncomfortable silence fell on top of the pair of you.
"Want one?" You asked with no emotion in your voice.
Ben hesitated for a moment, his groggy eyes staring at the back of your figure, silently trying to deduce you. "...Sure."
You were going to regret this.
You'd changed into comfier clothes, more specifically a pair of forest green silk shorts and a matching camisole top. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you faced Ben as he was sat on the windowsill opposite you, nursing his glass of wine. After a few strong sips, the pair of you were chatting and reminiscing like old pals. "Remember that time when I turned Peter Kipling into a weasel in McGonagall's class?" Ben giggled drunkenly, elbowing you gently as you nodded with tears in your eyes, an amused grin spread across your face.
"Oh my- I forgot about that!" You wheezed, smacking your lips together. "Didn't you get... like... at least- like a month's detention for that?" You laughed, slurring, taking another sip of your glass of Elven wine. You winced slightly at the strong aftertaste as it burned your throat. That was to be your last drink, you couldn't take much more.
"Ohh, yeah, I d-id," Ben hiccuped, his laughter dying out as he sighed; his tired eyes falling onto you. Shuffling under his gaze, you felt slightly uncomfortable. A brief yet thick silence suddenly engulfed the two of you like a slow-burning fire. Ben stood from where he'd been sat, stumbling over to where you were, stopping just in front of your knees.
"I miss talkin' to you, Y/N." He sighed, taking his hand and placing it upon your cheek; carressing the apple of it with his rough thumb. The strong scent of alcohol on his breath made you gag a tad - you were drunk as well, but the smell of it wasn't pleasant, especially from his mouth.
Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden contact.
"..Yeah." You answered quietly albeit awkwardly as you stared up at Ben. Though, all the wine you'd consumed was making him look like someone... else - the darkness wasn't helping either, in fact it was fueling your hallucinations. The dark cast of a shadow from the lit candles behind him made his nose appear larger, and his cheekbones a little more pronounced.
Slowly, he crouched down until you two were eye-level, his hands slipping to your ankles. Your body stiffened slightly at the feeling. "Ben.." You warned, sighing as the drunk buzz and pleasurable tingle from the pads of his fingers was starting to cloud your mind.
"Whaat?" He whispered, heavy-lidded eyes still glued to yours as his fingers began to trail up your calves. Ben began to stand up slightly, pushing his face dangerously close to yours, and so you leant backwards to avoid him, your back gradually making contact with the bed. He shuffled forwards slightly, pressing a knee against the edge of the bed to balance himself.
You shouldn't be doing this, you knew that, but Gods, the alcohol was truly fucking with your morals and mind.
Would it hurt?
Just a little... taste...?
You shut your eyes as you became lost in the feeling; his fingers reaching the backs of your soft thighs, a breathy sigh falling from your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes again as Ben's smalelr nose pressed into your neck, followed by his wet lips. You gasped as his hands found your torso, his fingers pressing a little too harshly into your flesh. 
Severus.
Memories of him suddenly flooded your mind like a reservoir breaking a dam, flushing out anything that didn't embody him. All the times Severus had attacked your supple flesh beautifully; pulling gorgeous moans from those pink lips of yours. Your brows furrowed together as your body silently yearned for his touch. It hurt.
You were stuck between stopping this and just shamelessly indulging in the dark, twisted fantasy of pretending that Ben was Severus. You were being so selfish. And yet, you didn't care, all of the emotional turmoil that you'd been through tonight was pushing you to the edge - all you wanted was the man who didn't love you, who only saw you as a quick fuck, maybe some midnight company. 
You shut your eyes again and tried your best to imagine him. With a sigh, you ran your hand up Ben's neck and into his hair, though it wasn't the same. You missed the way you'd tangle your fingers in his raven-black locks, gripping on it as he'd ravish your neck and breasts like some mad professional. Sighing frustratedly, you moved your hands down to his shoulders, expecting the rough, black fabric of Severus's robes, and yet you were met with the flimsy, thin fabric of Ben's white cotton t-shirt.
You felt so fucking pathetic.
Knock, knock.
You froze, eyes snapping open as quick as lightning. Was there someone at the door?
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Ben groaned drunkenly as he continued to kiss your neck. Unfortunately for him, the feeling had worn off the second you heard those knocks.
"The knocks at the door."
"You're.. imag-ining things, baby." Ben sighed and hiccuped once more, his uncomfortably hot breath on your neck made you shiver. At this point, Ben was much more drunk than you, and so with your remaining energy, you rolled him off of you. "Whoa- heey-!" He groaned as you slipped from underneath him, padding to the door. You didn't bother to check if he was alright, the only thing on your mind was who was at your door at this time of night.
Was it him? Did you want it to be him?
Reluctantly, you reached out your hand to open the door.
Nobody was there.
You frowned and leaned forwards, poking your head out to glance around. The corridor was empty, completely empty. That was incredibly weird, did you imagine those knocks? You sighed softly - perhaps you were a little disapppointed. Turning around, you shut the door, only to be faced with Ben sat sloppily in a chair with a face like thunder.
"Waitin' for someone?" He asked with a flat tone, his head lazily cocked to one side, still clearly drunk.
"What?"
"You know what I'm talkin' abou', Y/N." Ben said with the same tone, standing up, albeit unsteadily. You swallowed as he inched closer towards you, dragging his feet, your toes burying themselves against the hard wooden floor beneath your feet. "I know about the notes you kept. From him." He spat, pointing his finger at your face. Your heart instantly began to gallop; the pounding of its beats echoed in your ears like a harrowing scream in the night.
The notes...
"Excuse me?" You choked out, brows furrowing together in complete shock.
This was not how you wanted this to go down.
"I went through yer little drawers. In yer greenhouse," Ben scowled, his nose turning upwards in what you could only describe as disgust. "All of his little notes were perfectly preserved, and mine? Well-" Your mind was running so quickly that you could barely even listen to what he was saying - the fact that he went behind your back and invaded your privacy was the only thing sticking out to you as of right now. Your skin felt like it was on fire as the anger began to flood your veins.
"You went through my drawers, Ben?!" You yelled, shoving a finger in his face.
"That's the only thing you care abou'?! Not the fact that you secretly- obviously, have some sort of fucked up... thing for a man who treats people like they're the tiniest bit of shit on 'is shoe?!" Ben screamed back drunkenly as he bared his teeth, stomping towards you and smacking your finger away. "The fuck is wrong withya?"
You knew this could get ugly quite quickly, especially as Ben was drunk - a lot drunker than you. But at this moment, your anger was far too hot to even think about cooling things down.
You scoffed at him, your lips twitching upwards into a disgusted sneer. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Going through my stuff?!" You shouted at him, taking a step backwards as he began to get a little too close for comfort. "That's not okay, Ben!"
"How long has it been going on?" Ben asked, his tone suddenly calm. That put you on edge.
You paused for a moment, pondering on his question. It was probably best that you didn't answer that. "We're done here, Ben." You clenched your jaw, silently readying yourself for some sort of explosion.
"How long, Y/N?!" Ben yelled. The way the whites of his eyes were basically screaming at you made you feel terrified. In this current moment, there was only one pair of arms that you wish you were being held in. The man in front of you backed you up to the door, and you could only stare at him, for your wand was foolishly placed inside the pockets of your robes hung in your bedroom. Tears burned in your eyes as the guilt you'd tucked away was finally waking up and holding your body hostage with it's incredibly heavy weight. "Did you fuck 'im? Is that why ya never slept wit'me for months? Because you were too ...busy being his fucktoy?" Ben slurred, his face red and lips wet with saliva from how he'd been shouting.
"Shut up!" You cried at Ben as the tears began to break free from you and run down your cheeks like melting diamonds. This was so not the way you wanted this to go. "Please, just stop!" You were sobbing at this point as his words pierced your heart, quickly reminding you of what Severus truly thought of you.
"Oh, fuck sake, stop with the cryin'," Ben growled, drunkenly shoving a hand into your shoulder, sending you barreling backwards and into the door. You winced slightly as the bone of your shoulder blade made contact with the metal bar on your door. "Whiny bitch, yer the one in the wrong, not me!" He grumbled with a heavy sigh, turning away from you.
"Shit, Ben-" You gasped as you leaned forwards and pushed yourself off of the door, however, a sharp and excruciating pain shot across your shoulder as you tried to move it. "What the hell were you thinking?!" You whined, stumbling to the countertops of your kitchenette to lean on it. Your shoulder was fucking killing you.
"Me? What was I fuckin' thinkin'?!" A sarcastic, manic laugh fell from his lips and immediately you regretted your choice of words. The man spun on his heel, and suddenly he donned a wand in his hand. Now, you were scared for your life. "You're one to talk... you know what... I'm going to have you fired... yeah... blacklisted. From every job in this fuckin' area! That'll teach you to be a whore!" Ben screamed the last word so loudly that you were sure every sleeping student and teacher heard it. Your jaw ticked, and you had to look away, your face painted an embarrassed shade of scarlet.
Your heart dropped at his words. No way was this happening.
"You can't do that." You whispered, tears still streaming from your eyes as you stared at the ground.
"I work at the Ministry, darlin', anything is possible."
"Fuck you."
"What did you just say t'me?"
"Fuck you!" You cried out hoarsely with one hand on your shoulder and the other gripping the countertop. An animalistic like growl fell from your ex-boyfriend as he stormed towards you, fury burning bright in his eyes. He raised his wand, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for some sort of spell to hit you.
"Stupefy!" A familiar voice commanded, the swish of a spell following it suit. Then, a loud thud.
Reluctantly, you opened your eyes to see Ben laying on the floor, unconscious in a pool of his own saliva. Your chest heaved with fear, and you were incredibly scared to look up to see who had come to your rescue. Frozen, you stood still in your place, though you could feel your knees beginning to buckle. Within seconds you were on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, your lungs on fire from how harshly you were breathing. Merlin, you could've just died.
uh oh.. who saved her?
i'm sorry if you weren't tagged, i went through the majority of my notes and tried to find you all!! pls forgive me :( there was a lot due to my absence <3
taglist:
@a-laufeyson
@emilynissangtr
@livillain00
@meowskii
@nooneeveryonenoone
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@881127fara
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@ms-snape
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@once-upon-an-imagine
@cj-ghostemoji-destielpie
@renirat
@0chemicalwaste0
@6kaja9
@guardiandear
@gloriousrebelrunaway
@ameliachastain
@setsuna-meiou31
@kateris-world
@unatempesta-dipensieri
@jspidey5
@lyrixsnape
@bbykens
@johnmurphys-sass
@rockymiles
@joshysloshy
@luckylightcosplay
@melmel-fandom
@whosiris
@yu-87
@chalkoutljnes-blog
@ameliachastain
@eatmyshortsz666
@alexisabirdie
@snifellus
@roxy366
@stainedglasscrystals
@sojantrouxao
@mariaeatsworms
@cheri-cheri-cherry
@lizziebitch33
@dreamybxnny
@h0n3y-l3m0n05
@daydreamer-and-booklover
@daemonwhitedove
@yoongjennie88
@aureum-lepus
@lolwey
@alanalanalanalanalanna
@dystopiaincognito
@rye-flower
121 notes · View notes