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atlabeth · 8 months ago

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pretty boy

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer walks in one day with a new look. you handle it pretty well.

a/n: im in the opposite of a writing slump right now (will prob fall into a writing slump right after i say this) probably because im procrastinating on essays for school and i can only write when im meant to be doing work. but tiny little fluffy spencer one shots are very good for the soul right now. i think it's my way of healing from my hotch fic

wc: 1.8k

warning(s): one slightly sexual joke from emily. all fluff

You usually don’t get to the office this early, but you don’t exactly have a choice. The BAU’s last couple cases have all run one after another, barely leaving you any time in the office, and now you’re paying for it.

You’ve got a mountain of paperwork to get through and not nearly enough time to do it all—if you’re lucky, you’ll be writing reports for a few days straight. If you’re not, you’ll be putting in some overtime.

“This is the most focused I’ve ever seen you this early,” Derek comments.

You shake your head with a sigh. “These reports are government mandated torture.”

He chuckles, and he nods at Emily as she walks over to her desk. “Are you this busy?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve still got a report to get through, but nothing that bad.”

“I get it,” you say wryly. “You’re all more organized than me. Just don’t come to me asking to go out tonight—you know I can’t say no.”

“But don’t shots taste better when you’re supposed to be doing work?” Derek asks, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“Not when I’ve got this much work I’m supposed to be doing.”

You hear the elevator ding and glance up—Spencer’s walking through and fixing his tie. You look back down at your report as you greet him.

“Hey, Spence,” you call. “Why’re you late?”

“I’m not late,” he says, and you can see him checking his watch out of your peripherals. “I’m two minutes and thirty-three seconds early.”

“Really?” you muse. “I guess I’m just so used to you being here before me.”

“You can’t judge my timeliness on yours when you’ve been here for an hour already,” Spencer says.

You frown, tapping your pen against the paper. “How do you know?”

“You’re settled in already. Your coat’s on your chair, your stack of unfinished files is smaller than it was last time we were in the office, your coffee isn’t steaming, and your mug has a chipped handle—when they were put away last night, that one was set in the front, so you’d have to be here early to get it.”

“Touche,” you murmur. You’re not sure why you ever ask your team of profilers how they know something.

“You also look like you don’t want to be here,” he comments. “That’s pretty typical of agents who have to be here before their regular hours.”

You chuckle and tilt your head in admission. You don’t really want to be here, especially running on so few hours of sleep.

“Why aren’t you as early as usual?” Emily asks.

“My neighbor knocked on my door this morning to ask me for something,” Spencer says. “It threw off my whole routine. I picked the wrong tie, I couldn’t pack my bag properly, and I had to toast my bagel for two minutes instead of three and a half to make it out in time.”

“How terrible,” Derek says with mock austerity.

“It is terrible!” he exclaims. “It’s scientifically proven that a morning routine makes you happier, more energized, and ready to seize the day—carpe diem.” Spencer sets his bag on the floor next to his desk and looks at everyone else with a smile. “Did you know that phrase was actually coined by the Roman poet Horace in his Odes? It comes from the first book out of four in the eleventh poem—the full phrase in Latin is carpe diem, quam mini—”

“How was your bagel?” Emily asks to interrupt him, and he pauses.

“It was good,” he says. “Could’ve been toastier.”

You look up, a teasing remark on the edge of your tongue, but the words die in your throat when you actually see him.

Spencer’s started combing a hand through his hair to fix it—must have been another part of his affected morning routine—his lips set in a pout as he tries to see his reflection in his dark monitor. He always looks good, even without trying, but now—

“You’re wearing glasses,” you say dumbly.

“My contacts dried out,” he grumbles, still focused on his hair. “We got home so late last night I forgot to put them in their solution, and I had no time to fix them because my neighbor messed up my whole morning.”

You nod, still unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Are you gonna keep wearing them?”

“I don’t know. Contacts are better for cases because I’m not worried about them falling off or fogging up, but I usually sleep on the jet on the way back, and sleeping with contacts in isn’t good.” He smiles a bit as he fully turns to you, seemingly satisfied with his hair. “It reduces the amount of oxygen that gets to your cornea, which damages the cornea’s surface and makes it harder to regenerate new cells. Sleeping with contacts actually makes you six to eight times more likely to get an eye infection.”

You nod again, your brain still not quite working at full power. You always love listening to Spencer’s fact dumps—it gives you a lot of material to impress your non-BAU friends with on the side, and you’re eternally thankful for that—but right now, you seriously cannot focus.

You’d never really thought about him in glasses, but that’s probably a good thing if this is how it makes you feel.

You were valedictorian as an undergrad, and you received stellar feedback from your professors during your masters program. You’re an excellent profiler, a valued member of the BAU, and you’re a goddamn FBI agent.

And yet you can’t find a single thought in your head because your coworker showed up to work wearing glasses.

He’s still rambling about other common causes of eye infection and how nobody seems to take them as seriously as they should, when Derek, not even trying to hide his grin at your turmoil, speaks up.

“Reid. Wanna cool it a bit?”

Spencer’s eyes dart over to him for a moment before he stops. “Uh— sorry.” He frowns as he looks back at you. “Why do you ask? Do you not like them?”

“No,” you blurt out, and you shake your head a multitude of times. “No. They look great. You look great. They’re—” You dig your nails hard into your palm as you try your hardest to smile like normal, and this time you nod. “They’re good, Spence.”

“Thanks.” Spencer does that little smile-nod combo of his, and he pushes his glasses back into place with his thumb by the bottom of the frames. “That’s nice to know I’ve got another option.”

You thank whatever god may be out there that Hotch and Penelope are busy in their offices and JJ is busy with some other case, because you think you would die if anyone else saw you like this.

“Hey, Reid,” Emily says, also not doing a very good job of hiding her amusement. You hate your team sometimes. “They’re almost out of sugar in the breakroom. If you want coffee the way you like it this morning, you should probably get in there.”

“What?” Spencer shoots up, his brows already furrowing into a frown. “That— that’s ridiculous. I can’t mess up my morning any more.”

“You’d better get in there, then,” she remarks.

“We’re an entire office of agents running on coffee,” Spencer complains as he starts walking. “How are we almost out of sugar?”

“Because half of ‘em drink it black,” Derek says, and Spencer shakes his head with a sigh as he leaves.

“That’s ridiculous.”

You bury your head in your hands the moment he’s gone and Derek laughs. “I wish I could’ve gotten that on video.”

“Don’t talk to me,” you groan. “It is not fair of him to walk in like that.”

“And that is why I call him pretty boy.”

“He needs them to see,” Emily says with amusement as she leans against the side of your desk. “You just can’t control yourself.”

“I need to transfer offices,” you say, shaking your head. “I can’t do this.”

“You should ask him out!” Derek encourages. “He’d probably say yes.”

“Absolutely not,” you insist. “I doubt he likes me like that. A— and even if he does, that’s the last thing either of us need right now.”

“I don’t know,” Emily muses. “It looks like you clearly need something.”

You let out a frustrated noise as you screw your eyes shut. “I’m doomed.”

You hear Spencer say your name, and when you look over at him, one hand still pressed against your head, you see he’s got two cups of coffee in his hands. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you say weakly. “I’m great. Why?”

“I got you one too,” he says, holding one of the mugs out to you. “The one you have is probably cold by now, and it looks like you need an extra kick to get through all those reports.”

“Thanks, Spence. That’s sweet.” He nods as you take the proffered mug, and you swear your cheeks are as warm as the coffee. He is really testing your strength today.

“You— you have a lot,” he says, and you huff a dry laugh and nod. “I’m not trying to be sarcastic. I could take half of them if you want?”

Your grip tightens on the mug and you can feel Derek’s eyes on you. “I couldn’t make you do that, Spence.”

“You’re not!” Spencer exclaims. “I can get through mine really quickly—we worked together for almost the whole last case so I can do all of that anyways.”

“...You’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition?”

“I’m sure,” he nods. “Besides, I offered. I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to.”

And god damn him, because he nudges his glasses back into place again, pushes a strand of loose hair back into place. You’re dying over here.

You set the mug of coffee on your desk and pick up the top half of your pile. “All yours, Spence.”

He takes the bottom half and smiles at you, and you smile back before he walks back to his desk. You are dying over here.

“Let me know how I can pay you back,” you say, and he shakes his head.

“You don’t need to pay me back.”

“Really?”

Spencer nods. “I mean, Morgan invited us all out on the jet last night, and I don’t think I can do it alone. If you can get out of the office in time, I don’t have to. I think that's enough of a payback.”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll be there.”

He smiles again and nods, then he picks up a pen and focuses in. You turn back to your desk, your face burning.

“What was that about him not liking you like that?” Derek says.

“Quiet!” you whisper-yell, swatting him with the pile of files in your hand. “He might hear you!”

“He’s not hearing anything while he’s focused on that,” he says. “That just means you can ogle him more.”

You groan again, letting your forehead fall into your palm. “I’m pathetic.”

“I think you’re right.” Emily chuckles as she stands up. “You are doomed.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #x reader #sadie writes

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irndad · 4 months ago

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don't date coworkers- s.r.

a/n: i literally wrote this very fast and also i hope you like it pls go easy on me!!! reader has a policy they don't date coworkers. spencer is so angsty abt that !! also sorry for dropping a new fic at 2am LOL wc: 1.7k

She’s really, really good at talking to people.

It’s one of the many traits Spencer adores about her. She moves through crowds with ease, and she can charm her way into any piece of information from whatever city cop they need a favor from. She integrated into the team faster than anyone could’ve expected. This is a strength not all profilers have- they know what it takes to know what makes someone appealing, but rare is the ability to be as charismatic and charming as she is.

She’s good at talking to him.

She’s worked at the BAU for about a year now. 13 months, 7 days and 8 hours since she walked through the doors of the bullpen for the first time, beaming at him for the very first time. Give or take.

Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew that he was in love with her. He’s halfway certain she does, and is being too polite to mention it. Normally, Spencer is incredibly regimented about boundaries. While the BAU is his family, and there’s no real way to deny that, he knows that he’s less than ideal to go out with. He’s stocky and he never cuts his hair (even though she swears it’s cute longer) and he’s an awkward guy- gangly and tall and just ill-fitting to be part of the scenery of her life.

It’s a Friday, and a rainy one at that. It’s one of the blessed ones where they don’t really have a case, just paperwork to catch up on, reports and her desk faces a window.

Normally, when Spencer gets his work done (a good four hours before everyone else on a paperwork-only day), he’d head out. Catch up on whatever Russian novel he’s been chipping away at- but she’s here, and he’s made her favorite tea.

“I thought you could use a treat,” he says, walking over to her desk. She looks up at him, brushing overgrown bangs, “It’s not really a great one, but I’ll get you some scones on the way to mine, yeah?”

She looks up at him, dropping her pen and focusing entire energy on him. He feels a bit overwhelmed, like an ant under a magnifying glass.

“Did you know that I adore you, Spence?”

He is very much not aware. No amount of her saying it will ever make him know. She takes a long sip from the mug. He knows how much honey she likes in it. He studies how she looks, eyes closed serenely, completely invested in what he’s given her.

“You’ll be taking her home, pretty boy?” Morgan snickers, in a not altogether unkind manner.

“Fuck off,” she says kindly, not taking her eyes off of Spencer as she rebuffed Morgan’s teasing.

“Easy, easy,” Morgan laughs, “I’ll leave your boyfriend alone.”

If she has anything to say to that, it doesn’t come out then.

He’s still bright red, though. Morgan is amused, and Spencer knows that she really, truly adores Morgan. Spencer loves him too, but it would be nice if he laid off the jokes.

She doesn’t date coworkers.

He knows this because of the first time they’d met, when he’d been walking in carrying a croissant for Garcia and a coffee for JJ, and saw what can only be described as a truly ridiculously beautiful woman in the bullpen.

She’d been leaned back, smiling openly as Morgan tossed some random pick-up line towards her. He remembers it now like he can still hear it, her lilting lovely voice carrying just the right amount of warmth to make this not sting, or at least sting as little as possible.

“I’m sorry, Derek,” she had said, “I make it a point not to date coworkers.”

Which of course is fine. She can date whoever she wants, and it’s a good policy to have personally. And Spencer’s never really be the kind of guy who excelled at getting dates. He knew from the first minute that he saw her that even if she didn’t think that way… well, it wouldn’t be him, who she picked.

Now, they are very close. So close that she drives him home from work every Friday. Which usually includes staying at his shitty apartment and watching VHS tapes of documentaries and Doctor Who.

He wants to kiss her every Friday. All, the time, really. It’s kind of plaguing him. Clearly, she likes hanging out with him. Something about him is appealing. It’s foolish to assume that it’s more than friends, especially for someone like him to be with someone like her.

She doesn’t date coworkers.

“I made sure the film tonight has subtitles!”

“Are you saying film because this film is foreign, Spence?”

“I promise it’s worth it!” He says excitedly, “And they’re really done well. You won’t have to have me whisper the translations to you in real time!”

“I didn’t mind that,” She laughs then, a real laugh, “but I’m glad we’re getting to hang out tonight.”

It’s funny- they’ve done this so, so many times, but he never stops being thrilled.

___________________________________

Sometimes, when the summer air is forgiving enough, they walk home from the office. She takes the train in, and they walk back to his place. Tonight is one of these nights, and god- she looks lovely. She’s tied her blazer around her waist, and the sunset hits her face in that gorgeous baroque painting kind of way.

“You’re very pretty,” he hears himself say before he can stop it. He’s endlessly pleased when she preens at the praise.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor,” she says, shoving her hands into her pockets, a nervous gesture. He wants to hold those hand, intertwine her lovely delicate fingers with his bony wispy fingers.

“You’re being nice to me,” he says, looking down at his shoes. They’re stupid. He should wear loafers, or some other shoe that doesn’t make him like half-child half-geek.

“I’m being accurate, actually,” she says she bumps his shoulder.

She’d be a wonderful girlfriend. He lives in the world this can happen quite often, in his fantasy. She laughs at his jokes and tells him he’s kind, and good, and she means it. He’s lucky to have this much of her- more than anyone else on the team! Spencer knows he’s her favorite. The way she’s looking at him now, how she give-up her Fridays to spend with him, on his ratty couch, how she always listens. Whenever they're both on the jet and he falls asleep, he always wakes up with a blanket on him. She's so good at loving people.

Being her favorite on the team does not mean he’s in the running to be a boyfriend. But he’d fucking want to be. He’d be a good boyfriend. Spencer, he’s gone so far for her. He fantasizes about getting her flowers that have symbolic meaning.

“Are you okay, boy-genius?”

“I’m better than okay. Do you want popcorn?”

She wants popcorn. He sets the movie up, and she gets comfortable on his couch, curling up with his purple felt blanket, and his mind betrays him with unhelpful images of what it might look like if she was his, if this is what he came home to.

Don't picture welcome home kisses, or movie nights or being wanted. Don't.

It’s very, very hard to focus on the movie.

She’s touchy, with him. He’s not sure if it’s because she could never see him as her boyfriend, but he’s grateful as she leans her head on his. She smells like peonies. When the credits roll, they stay like that for minute- her head on his shoulder and one of her legs thrown over his.

He wonders, not for the first time, if she feels the same way about him. If things were just..different, then they’d be kissing under the haze of his TV right now, if he’d know what that chapstick she carries with her every day tastes like.

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we met under different circumstances?” he says, once time passes and he speaks instead of thinking.

“Hmm?” She hummed, relaxed eyes flitting their gaze over to him.

“Like, at a bar or something.”

“But you hate bars.”

“That’s why I said or something!”

Her lip juts out adorably, “But then I wouldn’t get to see you in your element.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, resting his neck on the top of the cushion. The AC is a little too much in the room. He wonders if she’s cold. “But who knows. Maybe we’d date, or something.”

It’s the dumbest thing he’s ever fucking said. Both because it was a dumb way to say it, but because it was an advance. He feels white hot shame lick at his spine when he looks at her, and hears her laugh.

“I don’t think so, Spence.”

“No,” shitshitshit, “I didn’t mean-“

“I mean, if you don’t want to date me now, I don’t think meeting at like, Whole Foods would’ve been the difference maker.”

It’s then he hears it- the piece he couldn’t place in her voice, when she gets like this. It’s being resigned.

“What are you talking about?”

“C’mon, Spence,” she says, another bitter chuckle coming through, “You know how I feel. I haven’t exactly beens subtle.”

“But you don’t date coworkers. You have a rule.”

She looks at him with no recognition of what he’s saying.

“No, because you told Morgan that, it’s the first thing I ever heard you say.”

“Yeah, but-“

“And yes, okay, you’ve been my favorite person almost as long as I’ve known you and yes, I would fucking love for you to be my girlfriend, but that was your rule!”

“You want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Obviously!”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything else before, well- before she’s kissing him. More aggressive than that, really. Crawled onto his lap, arms around his neck, and where she leads Spencer is all too happy to follow. His body is not great at moving on instinct, but his whole nervous system feels alive- the weight of her in his lap, the feel of her waist under his fingers, the way he’s allowed this. It feels like such a pleasure, hedonistic in a way he’s never, ever been allowed to experience.

“You had a rule,” he says dumbly when she pulls away. His lips are wet. He’d like to go back to kissing, thank you very much.

“You’re the exception, to every rule, Spencer.”

When he kisses her again (which he’s allowed to do now, holy fuck) Spencer decides he’s going to spend the rest of all time earning that status.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader

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waitingonher · 1 year ago

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because i love you — [hoo boys headcanons]

summary: your "thing" with the hoo boys!

author's note: in honor of the pjo series coming out today,,have this rlly rlly short draft from earlier this year! xoxo

percy jackson — doodling on him

“give me your hand.”

“yes ma’am.”

minutes pass as you doodle gods know what onto percy’s hand. you always resort to this whenever the camp head counselor's meeting begins late—which seems to be every meeting—and giving percy "tattoos" certainly kills time. last meeting, you drew a can of beans and the time before that, was a bouquet of tulips. so honestly his guess being a pair of socks this time isn’t too far of a reach.

“okay, done,” you release his hand, a proud smile gracing your features, “cute right?”

he quirks a brow upon seeing the drawing, “is that…” percy turns his head to the side, gaining better perspective, “is that a flying fish?”

“wow, you’re good,” you say, giving him a nod of approval, “although, last time you did say that my can of beans looked like a roll of toilet paper…”

your boyfriend throws his hands in the air, “in my defense, you used a shitty pen so it was hard to tell.”

“whatever.”

jason grace — sewing your initials on his clothes

“hi love,” jason says, plopping down beside you on the couch. you give him a bright smile as he places a gentle kiss on your head, “almost done?”

nodding proudly, you hold up his pair of jeans to show him your work: your initials sewn onto a corner of his back pocket, “yup, just finished actually! what do you think of the color? i think you bought the thread for me on our second date. but i totally forgot i had it until i went digging in my supply box.”

a grin plasters itself on jason’s face as he nods his head in realization, “i knew the color seemed familiar. i remember wondering why a tiny spool of thread was so expensive. but it’s perfect, i love it,” he kisses your cheek, “all my friends are gonna be so jealous that they don’t have their girlfriends’ initials sewn onto their clothes.”

you laugh as you imagine jason vehemently bragging about his jeans to all his friends, “tell them i’m charging $50 if they want me to do theirs,” you wink.

“we’d make more than the stolls’ and their smuggling business if we did that,” he laughs, admiring your work once more. who knew that having your initials on his pants would have such an affect on him, “also, can you do my sweaters and my other jeans?"

you raise a brow, "i might have to start charging you at this point."

leo valdez — impromptu fashion shows

“wow!” you clap enthusiastically, “your outfit even puts paris fashion week outfits to shame!” yes, because a rainbow checkered crop top with a humongous green tutu and a pink boa paired with insanely skinny stilettos beats any and all high fashion runway outfits, “now, leo valdez, can you give us a few words about your new clothing line? and possibly a bit about what it’s like to be so amazingly talented?” you inquire, raising an invisible microphone to his mouth.

leo oh-so humbly bows and rises with a proud grin, “thank you, thank you, but i honestly must give all credit towards my beautiful muse, y/n, she’s the inspiration behind my new line. and about being so talented, it really is such hard work to be this naturally gifted.”

“ooh, do tell about this ‘y/n.’ i’ve never heard of her but she does sound absolutely gorgeous!” you exclaim, keeping up with the act.

your boyfriend nods firmly, “oh yes, she’s very, very, very beautiful,” adding a playful wink, “but i must say, she has the worst morning breath i’ve ever encountered!”

your smile drops and you squint your eyes, “i’m going to choke you with that stupid ugly boa if you don’t take that back right now.”

“uh ma’am,” leo backs up nervously, clutching his boa, “i’m going to have to call security if you threaten me again.”

"i'm seriously going to kill you."

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lavenderspence · 6 months ago

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Missing the happy hormone | S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: emotional reader, period mention, fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Apparently Spencer Reid could make anything better - even the emotional disaster of being on your period

A/N: First, huge thank you to the cutie that sent in this request, you literally caught me while on my period so this was born. Also, here’s to my inability to write short fics, this is your only warning that i can make and will make anything long, lol. Also, my titles suck omg. And shoutout to my crazy bestie for making me a Mamma Mia girly, she rocks.

But also, happy one month to this blog! When I carved out this little space for myself a month ago I wasn’t really sure how I’d feel being back here and writing again, but so far it’s been a treat. A huge thank you for all of your support and love and thank you to my mutuals and everyone that interacted with my blog. 💕 Here’s to many more months to come!

Request: spencer x fem!reader on her period/ovulating and shes in tears all the time?? Im ovulating and have been crying for hours and keep calling my mom lmaoo he’d been so lovely and sweet I know it I can feel it in my bones

masterlist

It was a slow day at the BAU. The most exciting thing in the 6 hours Spencer had spent at work was Rossi’s invitation to dinner the following weekend.

Paperwork had piled high after their last 2 cases, so every team member was hunched over their desk, writing and revising reports. It was a never-ending cycle - finish a report, close the file, open a new one, and start all over again.

His eyes had started getting tired after four and a half hours, his hand had started cramping and he was down two pens so far, yet there was still a prominent pile on his desk.

He suspected Morgan and Emily might have pushed a file or two from theirs onto his load, seeing as he was getting done the fastest. Regardless, every few hours JJ was bringing even more to pile on top of everything that wasn’t finished, so buried in paperwork they stayed - no matter how fast he wrote or read, or how used to the load he was.

He was just thinking about getting up to prepare a fresh pot of coffee so he could function properly for a few more hours when his phone started ringing. He felt around the pockets of his suit jacket, where it sat draped on his chair, and then pulled it free.

His display showed an incoming call, a picture of you as he hugged you, hands around your middle and face almost buried into your neck, a soft smile gracing both your faces. A scenery rich with reds, browns, and yellows stood behind you, the beauty of fall was nothing short of spectacular.

The picture you’d taken last year when the team spent a weekend at Rossi’s cabin in the woods, surrounded by the beauty of landscapes and leaves, nature for miles.

He accepted the call right away, a small smile on his face.

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, if a little raspy from misuse. He hadn’t talked much in the last few hours - just a distracted short answer here or a hum there. He was happy you were calling, though, welcoming the reprieve from the most recent report.

It was silent for a few seconds, and he wondered absentmindedly if maybe you hadn’t called him on accident, and then there came a tiny little sniffle from your side.

“Sweetheart?” He prompted, “Are you there? What’s going on?” Worry was starting to creep into the base of his spine, but he still remained calm and kept his voice gentle.

“I’m here. Hi.” Another small sniffle, “All’s good. Just…I was just wondering how much longer you’d be gone.” Your voice was small,like you thought you might upset him by asking, and a little crackly, like you yourself were upset about something.

His eyebrows furrowed, and he checked the time quickly - 3:57 pm.

“Probably about two more hours, there’s a lot of paperwork we need to go through.” His eyes met Emily’s as she sent him a curious, questioning look.

“Oh, okay.” The resignation was clear in your voice, “I’ll see you later then.” The call ended abruptly, and it took him a second to catch up.

He couldn’t help but feel like not everything was as good as you claimed it was. For one, you rarely called to ask when he’d be home - you knew his work could span into the late hours, or even stretch for days. You let him update you on any changes in his work schedule.

In your interactions, your voice was usually upbeat and teasing - especially on the phone. Your kindness was always evident in your voice, as was your mood. You were a sunshine person, if he ever met one, that’s probably why you and Penelope formed such a close bond upon meeting.

There was something that nagged him - a change in your mood he could pick up on just by your voice - too low, too small, and the cracks that he could now identify as he replayed your conversation in his head. You were keeping yourself from crying out, and yet there was nothing more apparent than the tears in your voice. And that made him worry.

“Reid, are you okay?” Emily’s voice snapped him from the hard stare he’d been giving his phone in the last several minutes since the call ended.

“I…I don’t know.” His eye twitched, and he cleared his throat before he tried and failed to articulate exactly what was happening - he himself had a hard time understanding. One thing he knew was that he needed to get home. “I..um, I need to go. Can you, please?” He asked, gusting at the remaining three files on his desk before he pulled his suit jacket on and grabbed his satchel.

Morgan and Emily shared a mildly concerned look before they both nodded their heads, “Yeah, go. Text to let us know if everything is okay.” Morgan reminded him before he exited the bullpen with a fast step and tried to keep calm.

He was aware the situation wasn’t anything that he needed to be incredibly worried over - if something was really wrong, he knew you would have let him know. Yet, he couldn’t help the way his heart constricted by the sound of your voice, or the overwhelming desire to come home and gently hold you, see what could have caused this behavior.

You were curled up on the couch, watching as Donna helped Sophie get ready for her wedding, the gentle melody of “Slipping through my fingers” filling the empty apartment. Your eyes were watering, to the point that everything was starting to get blurry. A shaky exhale left your lips.

Today has simply been a rollercoaster. Kissing Spencer goodbye this morning was the highlight of the day. What followed was nothing short of an emotional disaster.

You’d teared up during breakfast, images of picking berries with Spencer flying through your mind. The desire to make it a reality was strong.

Following that had come the overwhelming urge to bawl your eyes out, for no apparent reason whatsoever. Just cry and cry until you had it all emptied out and you could take a deep breath and continue with your day. So, cry you did, and then you’d finished with your chores for the day.

Apparently letting it all out and emptying your tear supply hadn’t happened. Seeing as around 3:30 you’d started missing your boyfriend so much, the need to hear his voice had won out, so you’d called him. You felt the need to have him home to hold you because this month’s visit from mother flow was making you feel like a crybaby.

But then there was disappointment at the notion that you needed to wait close to 3 hours before that could happen. So you quickly ended the call before he could pick up on the tone of your voice, and then you shed a few tears.

Now here you were, rewatching Mamma Mia because you really needed a pick me up, and once again, eyes shining as the tears started falling. At this point, it was a losing battle, so you let them fall, humming to the song with a broken voice.

That’s exactly how Spencer found you, not a minute later. His keys were in his hand, the satchel on his shoulder, and he was just a little bit out of breath.

The moment his eyes met you, they softened as he dropped everything and sat down next to you. His hand reached up and he cradled the side of your face, wiping your tears away.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper.

“Look at Donna painting Sophie’s nails, it’s...” You hiccuped, another wave of tears washing over you. “And you’re home, why are you home?” Your question was met with a furrow in his brow, as his thumbs continued wiping underneath your eyes.

“You called.” He answered simply.

“But you said-” He stopped you before you could finish your sentence.

“I did, yes. But you sounded off and sad, so. Want to tell me what’s going on?” He prompted you gently as he pushed your hair back and pulled you into his lap after, feeling like you needed the physical contact.

You weren’t ashamed to admit it, per se, but you were ashamed that your hormones had caused him to leave work and race home to be with you.

“It’s my period,” you mumbled, hands wrapping around his neck as you hid your face in his chest, too tired to prevent your eyes from watering again. “It’s been going on all day. Randomly, I’d just get so emotional, and the tears would start. I was missing you so much too, and then hearing the song, bam, tears again. I’m so done with this Spence.” You sounded barely coherent, with your face pushed as close to him as possible.

It all made sense now, you’d been cranky a few days ago, and then you’d told him last night your cramps were unbearable, so he knew you were on your period, but right now he felt like an idiot for not figuring it out himself.

“It’s okay, everything is fine. The drop in estrogen and progesterone, following your ovulation triggered this. This in turn reduced the production of serotonin, your happy hormone. So, we just need to boost it a bit.” He whispered into your ear as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“How?” You sighed into his chest, almost being able to pick up on the sound of his heartbeat.

He got deep in thought for a few seconds as you breathed in his scent, and a sense of calmness slowly overtook you now that he was home and holding you. One of his hands was running soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand, fingers interlocked.

“How about we take a trip to the store and get you some snacks? We’ll pick up dinner on the way home and then I'll hold you some more and you'll pick a movie for us to watch.” He suggested, kissing the crown of your head once, twice, and many more times until you gave him an answer.

“Yeah, yeah, I think that would help, but just having you here has done wonders.” You finally laid your head against his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. He smiled, and so did you. Having him here really had helped immensely, and when had it not? He was your other half, your rock, and even when your emotions ran rampant or you were feeling down, just his presence, his touch, and his understanding were enough to make it all okay.

Later in the evening, Penelope sent you a photo of Sergio sleep-hugging a little plushy you’d gotten him, and the waterworks started all over again. Luckily, Spencer was there, wiping your tears and kissing your head, saying a thousand things without actually speaking a word.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Requests are open for both Spencer and Hotch if you want to send any!

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic

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hotshotsxyz · 2 months ago

Text

doctor, doctor, give me the news

(buddie) (1.4k words) (8x05 spec) y'all i think i kind of went off with this one

Tommy flinches. It’s a quick, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it thing that he quickly turns into a playful cringe, but for a second, it was real. It was real and Buck saw it and he doesn’t know how to unsee it.

He pulls his phone out and opens the camera so he can see it for himself, and okay, yeah, it’s not great. But also—they’re both firefighters. Buck’s seen way worse than swollen, red skin, and he’s sure Tommy has too.

“Afraid of the curse now?” he asks lightly instead of voicing the thought.

“Um, yeah, I think you’ve convinced me,” Tommy replies.

Buck squints at his own image. “What do you think it is?”

“Other than a curse?” Tommy asks.

Buck nods.

“Honestly, Evan, I have no idea. Maybe we should call in some back-up.”

“What?” Buck asks, brow furrowing. “Like some kind of curse breaker?”

Tommy snorts. “Like someone with a little more medical training,” he replies.

“Oh, yeah that—that’s probably a good idea,” Buck says. He feels himself flush even redder.

“You want me to call Hen? Or Chimney, maybe?” Tommy asks.

Buck shakes his head. “They’re taking the kids to a haunted hayride today. I’ll text Eddie.”

Tommy’s nose wrinkles a little, and Buck can’t help but wonder which part of what he just said Tommy didn’t like. He types out a quick message.

SOS. curse real. need paramedic diaz asap

Eddie’s reply is almost instantaneous and comes in three short messages.

not a paramedic

and curses aren’t real

I’m on my way

Buck looks up from his phone. “He’ll be here soon,” he says.

“That was fast,” Tommy observes.

Buck shrugs. For a second he considers sending Eddie a selfie, something to prepare him for the not-so-pleasant sight of his face, but he—

He kind of wants to see if Eddie flinches, too.

Eddie’s key turns in the lock and Tommy shoots Buck an odd look. He’d try to parse it, but he’s really starting to feel how much his face hurts and he kind of just wants Eddie to hurry up and fix it. He stands and walks past the stairs in time to see him shut the door.

“Ouch,” Eddie hisses as soon as he catches sight of whatever it is his face is doing now. It’s not a flinch. If anything, he sways forward like he might at a scene. Assessing. Ready to jump in as soon as he’s formed a plan.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “Told you I’m cursed.”

Eddie lets out a light laugh. “Mm, I think I’m supposed to be the one making the diagnosis here,” he says.

He ushers Buck to the kitchen table, sets his med kit down, and pulls out a chair for him.

“Gee,” Buck says, “A guy could get used to this kind of medical care.”

Eddie grins. “Doctor Diaz, at your service,” he says, holding out a hand for Buck to shake.

Buck huffs a soft laugh and takes it. “I’ll be a good patient, I promise,” he says.

“Don’t start lying to me now,” Eddie replies, eyes twinkling.

Across the table, Tommy chokes.

Buck drops Eddie’s hand and looks over at him. “You okay?” he asks.

“Mm,” Tommy hums. “Just uh—got some spit down the wrong pipe.”

Buck frowns but doesn’t push it any further. He looks back at Eddie and finds him rummaging through his kit with a pen light between his teeth. He makes a triumphant noise and turns to Buck.

“Alright, let’s see,” Eddie says softly.

He steps into the space between Buck’s legs, and Buck’s brain kind of just—freezes.

“Look up for me?” Eddie prompts, and when Buck doesn’t—can’t—immediately comply, Eddie presses two fingers beneath his chin and guides it up until suddenly the only thing Buck can see are Eddie’s eyes. “Thought you we’re going to be a good patient,” Eddie murmurs.

All at once, Buck’s brain unfreezes, skipping right past calm and into hyperdrive. Because—because—he’s looking at Eddie and Eddie’s thumb is skating across the skin that’s just beneath the worst of the swelling and Buck can feel it and surely Eddie’s touched his face before except—except—no, Buck’s pretty sure he hasn’t but now that he has Buck’s never going to be able to forget the way it feels because he knows it should hurt, it should, but it doesn’t and he kind of never wants Eddie to stop touching him and that’s—that’s—

“—hurt?” Eddie asks, only Buck misses 90% of the question so instead of answering he hums vaguely and watches Eddie’s face twist in sympathy.

Eddie starts dabbing something on Buck’s face, hydrocortisone maybe, or triple anti-biotic—whatever it is it feels cool and nice and as Eddie concentrates on his task he bites down on his lip and suddenly Buck can’t look at anything else, can’t look at the furrow in Eddie’s brow can’t look at the ceiling can’t—

“You think he’ll live?” Tommy asks dryly.

Buck feels like he’s been doused with cold water.

Eddie’s lips, those lips that he still can’t bring himself to look away from, twitch into a small smile. “Depends,” he says. “Has anyone figured out how to break the curse?”

It punches a laugh out of Buck’s chest, the kind that comes out in a single syllable and with a rush of air. Eddie takes a step back and finally Buck feels like his brain is returning from the stratosphere, back to its baseline level of chaos.

“So—” Buck tries, but it comes out rough. He clears his throat. “What’s uh—what’s the diagnosis.”

Eddie frowns. “Honestly? It kind of looks like spider bites.”

Tommy’s chair clatters back, and when Buck looks over he’s suddenly standing.

“Babe?” Buck asks, but it feels gummy and unfamiliar in his mouth.

“I, um—not a fan of spiders,” he squeaks.

Eddie blows out a soft breath that Buck’s pretty sure only he could recognize as laughter.

“You don’t have to stick around,” Buck says, and he swears he means stick around the loft, but—but—“I’m okay, I’ve got the second best doctor in Los Angeles looking after me.”

“Second!” Eddie exclaims, mock affronted.

“Hen,” Buck replies with a shrug.

Eddie heaves a dramatic sigh. “You’re not wrong.”

Tommy looks between them, a deep furrow in his brow. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll uh—I’ll head out.” He backs toward the door, then pauses as he gets a hand on the knob. “See you tomorrow?” he directs at Buck.

“’Course,” Buck replies, and he’s pretty sure if Tommy had asked him that this morning his reply would’ve sounded soft and sweet to his own ear, but now Buck doesn’t hear much of anything at all.

Tommy nods once, and then he’s gone.

Buck looks back at Eddie, and god, he tries. He tries so hard not to notice the long line of Eddie’s legs where he’s leaning against the table, not quite sitting on it. He tries not to think about that soft curl, the one that makes an appearance more often than not these days, the one that rests against his forehead. He wants—he doesn’t—Eddie’s not—

Buck stands abruptly, except Eddie never did take more than a step back and now they’re practically nose to nose and Buck isn’t sure if he’s still breathing. Eddie’s head tips to the side and Buck—there’s not a thing he can do to stop the freight train that is his imagination, and oh, he can see it. He can feel it.

All at once he’s sure that if Eddie Diaz were to lean in and kiss him—right now, or a year from now, or a decade—if Eddie kissed him, Buck would be ruined in every sense of the word. He’d never be able to kiss another person without seeing Eddie, feeling Eddie, tasting Eddie and—

He wouldn’t want to.

Buck takes a stumbling step back and knocks into his chair, making it clatter the same way Tommy’s had. And fuck, for a second he didn’t even—

“Buck?” Eddie asks, all concern and kindness and wide brown eyes.

“Fine!” Buck says. “I’m fine. You—you, uh—do you want—” Me? Us? Something terrifying and perfect and permanent and “—water?”

Eddie’s brows knit together. “Sure,” he says. “But sit back down. Let me get it.”

“Okay,” Buck breathes. He sinks into his chair.

Eddie grabs two glasses out of his cabinet without even pausing to think and fills them with the Brita he already knew was in Buck’s fridge and snags a coaster that he bought before placing one of the glasses in front of Buck.

“Seriously,” he says, settling into the chair closest to him and leaning forward, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, and he’s honest to god not even sure if he’s lying.

#911fic #911 fic #buddiefic #buddie fic #911 #buddie #fic #911 spec #911 spoilers #abbie writes #this just like. fell out of my brain

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borathae · 2 months ago

Text

↳ Index [Day 17 - Drunk Sex]

Pairing: Good Boy!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: new relationship!AU, Idol!Yoongi

Kinks: sex in his studio, romantic vanilla sex, consensual drunk sex, some dirty talk, lots of giggles and kisses, a quick breast worship cause it’s Yoongi, safe vaginal penetrative sex, vaginal fingering, dry humping, thigh riding, use of a vibrator, talks about male masturbation, he talks about using her moans in songs, Amazon position, they’re just drunk and horny and in love <3, he is The Man, like i need him so bad emotionally

Wordcount: 5.9k

a/n: if you voice me a wish of vanilla studio sex with some spice sprinkled on top, i take out my pen and deliver because i’m in a fact a whore for studio sex <3 fuckk i need to eat this Yoongi with a spoon no joke 🖤 i also miss him a lot :(

He makes you laugh. He is funny, you really think that he is. His laugh is also addictive. Deep, unless you match his humour just right and it turns into a squeak. You love laughing with him. You have been doing so for quite some hours today, sharing food and beer in his studio. You can feel the effects of the alcohol by now. It’s warm and fuzzy and dulls your boundaries a little. You don’t feel the need to force your senses to stay sharp. Not in his presence. He is safe and kind and sweet. Home, that’s what he has become.

And right now, he is also incredibly cute in your eyes. He is wearing a yellow sweater and brown pants and he clearly did his hair. It’s because he knew that you would be coming over for dinner. He smells like masculine cologne and he wears rings on his fingers. He put effort into himself because you deserve nothing less. He is very attractive and beyond tempting, but most of all, he is cute.

You stop laughing, completely engrossed in his face and how it moves when he smiles.

Yoongi notices your change of attitude instantly, fumbling with his earlobe.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, eyes suddenly struggling to upkeep contact.

“It’s just that”, you scoot closer, brushing the back of your hand down his cheek.

Yoongi’s breath hitches, his heart speeds up in his chest.

“Your cheeks become red when you’re drunk. It’s such a pretty shade.”

“Uhm”, Yoongi looks to the side. He stumbles for words and ends up laughing breathily instead. He clears his throat, scooting to the edge of the sofa to reach for his glass of beer.

You smile, resting back against the sofa with your head on the edge of the backrest and your eyes glued to him. You giggle.

He glances at you and looks away, taking a big sip of beer. When you don’t stop looking at him, he finally speaks up.

“Don’t look at me for so long. I don’t know how to handle it”, he is pouting and using a cute voice for it.

“I can’t help it. I think that you’re so cute.”

He flusters, rubbing the side of his neck.

“Okay”, he mumbles, eating a piece of fried chicken to distract himself from his nerves. The chicken is cold by now and he isn’t really hungry so it seems to never end in his mouth. He gulps it down when he suddenly feels your hands on his arms, feeling him up, touching him. Your kiss is placed on the round part of his shoulder.

“Your shyness is very attractive. It makes me wanna ravish you.”

“___, oh my god”, he gasps, meeting your eyes because your statement shocked him.

You simply flutter your lashes and smile playfully.

“Why are you saying this?”

“Why not? It’s the truth.”

“Yeah well, even if…oh my god.”

You laugh, closing the distance by putting your legs over his lap sideways and hugging his chest.

You kiss his cheek, “I can’t get enough of you, Min Yoongi.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Mhm, as are you.”

He clears his throat awkwardly, rubbing his own ear again. You decide to match him by nibbling on his other ear.

“Woah”, he gets out, tilting his head back as a surprise shiver shakes his body. He moves away instantly, widened eyes meeting yours.

“Did you like that?” you ask him, playing with his earlobe. It feels so soft and squishy between your fingers.

“___, I don’t know what you’re trying to do but we have to stop.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t wanna take advantage of you. You drank and your boundaries are down and I…I’m not that kind of man. I like you, a lot, and I care about you. I mean, not that I would take advantage of you if I didn’t feel for you like this, but I just. I guess, I just, what I wanna say is that I’m not one of those guys that get excited when a woman is visibly drunk.”

“I know. I never thought that you were. You’re kind, sweet, respectful and a total gentleman. I trust you, Min Yoongi. I feel safe with you.”

“Please just call me Yoongi.”

“Well, I trust you Yoongi. And I like you a lot too.”

"You do?”

You change the way you sit so you can talk. You and he haven’t seen each other for long. This is all new and exciting. You had your first kiss already, your first cuddle and shared some intimate moments with each other. But all of this is still new. The big L word hasn’t fallen yet although both of you burn to say it. You also haven’t really gone official to the people who matter. Your friends and family and Yoongi’s in return. You don’t want to give other people a chance to ruin this. Your last relationships have been a while for either of you and you both agree that the last one didn’t feel like this. It didn’t feel so electric and right and almost cosmical. As if some higher power brought you and him together. When you are together, nothing really matters and everything seems so much brighter. Yoongi only has a good morning when he can wish you a nice day at work and in return gets to read your funny morning texts. You swear you start to taste his kisses with every sip of coffee because so often he tastes like coffee when he kisses you. Sometimes Yoongi stops and stares when something reminds him of you and he always has to take a picture and send it to you. Sometimes you stumble upon a stray cat and see Yoongi in it and you always have to send him a picture as well. You and he became parts of each other’s days and build little houses in each other’s hearts. And it feels good and right to both of you.

“Of course I like you”, you say, taking his hand to kiss his knuckles, “I think you’re the most exciting yet mundane thing that has ever happened to me.”

He chuckles, squeezing your hand.

“I’m serious. You make my heart race and at the same time, you calm me down like no one else has ever done.”

“That’s…” He lowers his head. “Actually such a sweet thing to say. Thank you.”

You flip his hand and push his sweater sleeve up to reveal his wrist. The scent of his cologne lingers on it. You inhale deeply and kiss his wrist.

Yoongi gasps, heart almost jumping out of his throat.

“I mean it. You’re like my everything currently. You’re every single thought taking up my mind”, you say and guide your kisses further up his arm. The skin of his inner arm is so soft and smells like him. Kissing it makes you droopy.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to say, but his head is turning. His breath speeds up, his skin tingles. He is really sensitive on his inner arm and your kisses feel electric on his skin.

You manage to kiss him as far as his elbow and then the jumper punches up too much to go up any further. You nuzzle your nose into the slope of his elbow, sucking on his skin gently.

Yoongi sighs.

The sound makes you lift your head. You pull his sweater down mindlessly, holding the hem of his sleeve as your eyes race between his’.

His pupils are slightly widened, his cheeks are even more flushed. He is gazing, looking utterly bewitched and droopy.

“I feel the same”, his voice doesn’t want to go above a breathy whisper. With a warm timbre such as his’, it is very attractive. “It’s all new to me. These feelings. I’ve never felt like this before. You are in my mind all day and night and it’s so good. I can’t get enough of it and of you.”

“You can’t?”

His eyes flit to your lips. He shakes his head, mouthing an honest “I can’t.”

You close the distance. His lids lower, his nose brushes yours.

“Are you really sure?” he whispers.

“I’m really sure. Are you sure too? I’m not that type of woman either who gets off on taking advantage of a drunk guy. If I came across as such, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“You didn’t. I know that you’re safe. I feel, uhm, I guess I feel safe in wanting to be myself with you when it comes to, you know, sex.”

You snicker, rubbing your nose against his’ in a sign of affection. He closes his eyes, enjoying it with a sweet sigh.

“You’re so cute. You always get shy the moment we talk about sex. You rap about making people cum with your tongue, but you’re different behind closed doors.”

“It’s ‘cause I like you, I get nervous.”

“Why? It’s just me.”

“Exactly. I don’t wanna disappoint.”

“You’re not. Sometimes when I’m trying to sleep, I keep thinking about what we did and I get excited about the next time.”

He sighs your name softly, eyes gazing at your lips so longingly the distance even hurts you unbearably. You heal yourselves by breaking the distance and kissing his lips.

Yoongi moans your name, cupping your cheeks and kissing you back eagerly. Your initial plan was to break it after a short second to build tension, but you can’t bring yourself to do so now that it is actually happening. You love kissing him. You could do it all day.

There was a day where you almost did. He came over after work and then spent the night. You and he weren’t ready for sex back then, but you both felt comfortable in making out. You barely left the bed the next morning, spending hours kissing each other. It was so amazing.

He has the perfect lips for it as well. Soft and always moisturized. The shapes of them are beautiful. They fit his face as if they were made just for him, they are pouty and delicate and yet plump as well. When he applies lip balm, his lower lip always moves with the balm before it bounces back into place. When he talks, he tends to pout with his upper lip. When he sleeps, he keeps them slightly parted and when he smiles, they curl back to make space for his teeth and gums. You could fill books with poems about them. Never in your life have you been more smitten with a pair of lips than his’.

To kiss them and have them kiss you back, is true heaven. Tonight it is tainted by the encouraging power of alcohol. It isn’t long until Yoongi darts his tongue out to trace your lips. You instantly part them, meeting his tongue with your own.

He gasps, breaking the kiss surprisingly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you really sure?”

“Yes. You?”

“Yes, I am. I fucking am”, he breathes, pulling you back into the kiss.

You moan softly, pushing him back onto the leather couch. Yoongi falls with a purr, feeling electric tingles in his crotch when you claim the space between his legs and scratch your nails over his scalp softly. Yoongi nudges your leg with his own just obviously enough that you break the kiss.

“Too much?”

“No, just…I’m here if you need something too”, he whispers, gazing up at you devotedly.

“You say such sexy stuff, damn”, you get out and kiss him. You take up his offer, changing positions so you could grind on his thigh. You make sure to keep one knee against his own crotch, hoping that he likes it.

He does. He likes it. All of it. He likes your weight on him and how warm you feel between your legs. He likes how your knee grinds against his crotch because it feels fucking electric to him. He likes kissing you, holding you and touching you and being touched in return. Oh, he really likes you.

Yoongi purrs, running his big hands up and down your back. He lingers on the parts which are softest, kneading and squeezing them as if he wanted to memorise how it feels to hold you. It makes you burn up like crazy. It also makes you breathless, forcing you to break the kiss you don’t want to break. Yoongi chases you with parted lips and a sigh of your name.

“Sorry, air, hah”, you breathe, giggling shyly.

Yoongi chuckles, lips curling into a lopsided smile, “yeah ”, he lulls, voice rumbling in his chest.

You snicker and bury your nose in his cheek, “I’m dizzy. Closing my eyes really made it obvious that I’m drunk.”

“Same. Did you change your mind?”

“No. You?”

“No.”

“Mhm”, you hum and feel the consuming need to kiss his neck. The scent of his cologne drives you crazy, you need to eat it off of him until your tongue knows how he tastes.

Yoongi gasps, tensing up for a second before an aggressive shudder turns his entire body limp. He moans throatily, rolling his head to the side.

You claim the newfound space instantly, kissing his skin as much as you lick it. The alcohol lowers your shame and makes you bold. You kissed his neck before, but not like this. You are sloppy and messy. Yoongi swears he might pass out from light headedness. It feels unbelievable, turning him on like nothing else.

The only way he can handle it is by grabbing your buttocks and giving them a squeeze. You whimper softly, lips stuttering on his neck and hips trying to chase his touch. Yoongi slides his hand between your legs to test the waters.

“Yoongi”, you sigh, making him shiver with a moan against his ear and your tongue tracing the shape of it. Your hips grind down on his hand, giving him all the knowledge he needed. He moves on his own, rubbing your sweet warmth over the fabric of your pants.

You shudder, fingers twisting his hair gently. It doesn’t hurt, it simply makes his scalp tingle like crazy. The quiet moans you let out, he answers in a throaty purr. The giggle you produce in reaction to it, he answers with a chuckle.

You lift your head, meeting his droopy eyes just as droopily. His hair is messy at the top because you played with it. His neck is glistening where you licked and kissed it. Your heart flutters, your stomach does too. You make a sound and grab his hair to tilt his head back and therefore reveal his throat to you. He allows you, purring deeply when you swirl your tongue up his sensitive throat. His voice tickles so nicely that you have to do it again and again and again and again until it naturally evolves into you kissing your way to the side of his neck along his jawline. Yoongi rolls his head to the side gladly, lungs working overtime to breathe and head turning incurably. The shivers reach their peak when you take his earlobe between your teeth to tug on it softly. Yoongi writhes under you, arching his back to bear what you make him feel. You never had him arch his back before so this is ruining you. You lift your lips, having to look at his face. It is flushed beyond repair, contrasting deliciously against his love marked neck.

“Did that feel good to you?” you ask him, breathing heavily as you wait for his answer. His hand doesn’t move right now, resting on your pussy. It feels so warm.

“Everything does”, he breathes out.

“You arched your back.”

Shyness washes over his features, he looks to the side. You make him look at you with two fingers under his chin. His lips part in awe, his eyes cloud over in devotion.

“I want to go further. Do you want it too?” you ask him.

“I do.”

You sit up and hook your finger under your shirt. Yoongi sits up as well, doing the same with his jumper. You throw your pieces of clothing to the floor at the same time, looking at each other.

“Weren’t you hot?” you snicker, tugging on the fabric of the white t-shirt he wore under the jumper.

“I actually wasn’t. I was cozy”, he throws back sassily because he knows that you share his sense of humour and see it as him being playful.

You snicker, scrunching your nose.

Yoongi smiles at you and hooks his fingers in his shirt to take it off as well. When he reappears again, he is greeted with your naked breasts and your eyes looking at him expectantly.

“Wow okay”, he lets out, staring in awe. He stays completely still, making you laugh.

“Did you turn into a statue?”

“Huh? I uh, no”, he shakes off his paralysation. “Sorry, you’re just so beautiful. I can’t believe that you’re real.”

“You’re beautiful too. Can I?”

“Yes. Can I?”

“Yes please”, you allow him, placing your hands on his chest to feel him up.

Yoongi purrs deeply, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. Sadly your hands have to slip to his shoulders for now, but you don’t mind because he makes you fucking arch your back and roll your head back with the way he worships your chest. His left hand is between your shoulder blades, while his right hand is between your legs, rubbing your warmth. The fabric is soaked by now. It turns him on so much. He moans and purrs, kissing and licking your breasts as if they were everything he needed to survive. Yoongi kissed your chest before, but not like this. Not with so much tongue and so sloppily. The alcohol makes him brave and bold, resulting in you almost wanting to cry from how good it feels.

“You’re so beautiful”, he sighs, giving your nipples a break when they are swollen and sensitive. He marks your collarbones with his love instead, tastes your shoulders and repays the favour to your neck.

You collapse into him, knocking his nose into your neck and a laugh out of him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, hugging you when you hug him first.

“I don’t know. Just haven’t felt so good with anyone before.”

His heart speeds up.

“I feel the same.”

“You do?”

“Yeah”, he says and giggles cutely.

It breaks you instantly and you match his drunk giggles. You and he hug and giggle, riding on the drunken waves of dizzy heads and giddy hearts.

He mewls and lifts his head by nuzzling into you first. It’s like a cat that asks for affection.

“I’ll sound like a jerk, but can we go further?”

“You don’t sound like a jerk when I want the same.”

“Really?”

You nod your head. He lets out a breathy laugh, eyes widening in emotion. You smile and cradle his cheeks, pulling him into a giddy kiss. Just one more before you and he get naked. He accepts it happily, sighing and purring as his lips dance with yours. Like always when you break the kiss, he chases you. He is lovely like this.

“It’s torture when you break the kiss”, he chuckles.

“I know”, you snicker, “it’s for a greater good.”

“Mhm fuck, I hope.”

You climb off his lap, almost face planting the floor if he didn’t hold your hips instantly.

“Are you okay?”

You laugh, nodding your head.

“Just dizzy as fuck.”

“Sit down please, I don’t want you to fall.”

“I’m okay. Look”, you get on one foot to take off your pants. You lose balance and end up jumping around the small space between the couch and the coffee table as you try to take off your pants.

Yoongi stumbles to his feet, calling your name and drunkenly wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Don’t hurt yourself, please”, he pleads, kissing your shoulder and neck.

“I’m alright”, you sigh, taking off your pants with his support while your body feels electric. Yoongi has stronger arms than one might think at first. To have them around you as he drunkenly ravishes your neck is making you dizzy.

“You can let go of me now, I’m naked.”

“Can I feel?”

You gulp, nodding your head. Yoongi was never that bold before. You might ascend to a higher plain if he keeps being like this.

Yoongi dances the flat of his palm down the middle of your torso. He stops. He takes your earlobe between his teeth. He tugs and moves his hand quickly, connecting it with your dripping heat.

“Ah!” you moan loudly, arching your back. You throw your hand over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself.

“It’s okay. My studio is soundproof. No one can hear us”, he whispers, voice tickling your ear as his long fingers part your folds in a slow and sensual massage.

You drop your hand, using it to grab the back of his neck instead. He melts closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He plays with your dripping entrance, increasing the speed of your pulse.

“And you don’t have to hold back for my sake. Just let it all out, please”, he says, making you moan by burying two fingers in your aching walls. He presses the heel of his palm to your clit, applying warm pressure as he curls his fingers inside you. They are so long that he easily reaches your best spots.

“A-ah, ahm, ah…”

“Don’t hold back, please. You sound so sweet”, he purrs, curling his fingers just right. You are throbbing around him, feeling so warm and soft. He goes crazy at the sensations, aching to replace his fingers with his cock.

You mewl softly, hips trembling on his hand and fingers leaving red marks on his neck. Yoongi fingered you before and quite frankly, you still haven’t properly recovered from that first time. His hands are too sexy. Masculine, strong, big and veiny. Yet at the same time, they are so tender and careful and touch you with such gentleness. They are also very flexible and have way too much stamina to offer. Quite frankly, your legs never shook as hard as they did when he first fingered you.

“Ah, wow, oh wow, ah…”

“I love your sounds”, he drags his words, which is way too sexy, “makes me wanna record them and put them in a song.”

“Wait this is”, you croak, knees buckling.

“Too far?” He pulls out. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s just a lot to handle on my drunk legs. You’re so sexy right now.”

He chuckles. You snicker, turning in his arms. You put your hands on his chest. He touches your lower back, gazing into your eyes. There is a constant warm throbbing between your legs. And an ache only he could fill.

“You never talked like this before.”

“Blame the alcohol.”

You and he share drunk giggles and soft touches.

“Can I undress you?”

“Yes please.”

You snicker, making him snicker too. You and he sway drunkenly as you begin fumbling with his pants, not once breaking eye contact. You are trapped in a dance between little distance and more distance between your lips, but never take the last step to kiss. It’s addicting to share space and air and moans but to never give in to temptation.

Soon his pants are open and you push them down over his round butt. He steps out of them, almost face planting the floor if you weren’t holding his arms so tightly.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?”

“It is. Fuck, I’m so drunk”, he laughs and hugs your waist, swaying with you to the melody of your beating hearts.

“Me too”, you chuckle, playing with his hair.

He smiles, kisses your forehead before he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. You sigh, eyes closing from the loving affection.

“You’re really sure about this?” he asks.

“I’ve never been so sure about anything. You?”

“I’m so sure. Just don’t expect a genius performance in my state. I think my hips are gonna have a mind of their own and forget how thrusting works in the middle of it.”

You snicker, letting him taste your next words by brushing your lips against his’.

“Then let me do the moving.”

“Are you serious?” he almost whimpers the words, knees buckling.

“Mhm very.”

Yoongi moans your name, trying to kiss you at the same time. You snicker, twisting his hair, lips parted and eyes half lidded. This is keeping you alive like nothing else.

“Is that okay for me to do?”

“More than okay.”

“Then sit down”, you say and push at his chest gently.

Yoongi falls clumsily, grunting in surprise. His eyes are comically big.

“Oh! Sorry, are you okay?” You gasp. “I didn’t mean to push you that hard. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just got weak in the knees”, he assures you and laughs with you.

“God, you’re so cute.” You climb his lap, playing with his hair and stubbing his face with your nose.

“You know that I need to get a condom first?” he smiles as he talks.

“Then get it.”

“I can’t do that when you’re on top of me.”

“Right”, you say and giggle, “shit, you’re right.”

You climb off his lap again, gazing at him as he waddles to his desk. He is still wearing his briefs. His butt looks so good in them. He bends down to open the second drawer of his desk. He grabs more than a condom.

“What else did you get?”

He turns, showing off the black vibrator and lube proudly.

“Why do you have a vibrator in your studio?” you gasp.

“For when I get needy.”

“You use this stuff on yourself!?”

“Yes? Why not?” he asks, cocking his brow up in question.

“It’s just really hot. Damn. So you’re telling me that you jerked off here before?”

“Way too many times”, he confesses and chuckles.

“Hot. Wow hot. Damn.”

He grins shyly.

“Do you want me to use it on you?” you ask him.

“If you want to, but it’s for you. If you need a little more to get there. Don’t worry, I sterilize my toys after each use.”

“You’re so hot, holy fuck.”

Yoongi steps out of his briefs and opens the condom, rolling it on his cock. You gulp, salivating like crazy. You never wanted him more than you do right now.

“You’re so hot, oh my god. What the hell”, you murmur under your breath, making him chuckle. Your constant praise makes him confident so he gives his cock a few jerks just for show, purring deeply.

“Yoongi, oh my god, you’re so hot.”

“You’re hot too. Like a lot.”

“Oh my god, I wanna fuck you.”

He sits down and holds his cock straight for you.

“Please? Do?” he begs with cute puppy eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

“Can I do something new with you?”

“I didn’t clean out my butt if you’re suggesting that.”

“What? Hot, but not what I”, you snicker and close the distance, “we have to talk about butt stuff another time, I might bust if we do that now.”

He laughs, eyes filled with fondness.

“Okay. What are you thinking then?” he asks.

“I’ll just show you, okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

You push him down onto the cushions and take his legs to bend them and push them apart.

Yoongi laughs in disbelief, head going dizzy. He looks at you in a mixture of shock, amusement and arousal.

“Too far?”

“No, it’s so sexy.”

“It is. I’ll take you like this. Just like this”, you say and change position so you can take in his cock. You sink him into you carefully, watching his face change into an expression of surprised bliss.

“Mhhhhm”, he lets out in a purr, eyes going hazy.

You move your hips, grinding and rolling them into him with his cock deep inside you. It is as if you were fucking missionary. Except that he is deep inside you and there is nothing penetrating him.

Yoongi doesn’t see a difference, having to gasp for fucking air and dimple his own legs as he holds himself open.

“Like this. What do you think of it?”

He nods his head vigorously, letting out a high-pitched whimper. He never did this before so it is making you dizzy. You chase the warmth between your legs, staring at his flushed face obsessively.

“Yes? You like it?”

“So much. Ah!” he drops his head to the side, rolling his eyes back and grabbing your waist. “so much….”

You drop to your elbows, kissing his neck needily. Your hips are sloppy in how they fuck, filling each of you with electric pleasure.

“This is insane, what the fuck”, Yoongi gets out, following it up with a moan and a scrunch of his handsome face.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, fuck yes. Ah ___ don’t stop, please”, he begs, arching his back.

“Yoongi, oh god”, you keen, clenching around him in excitement. You could get used to making him arch his back. He is so sexy when he does.

Yoongi breathes out and mewls at the same time, resulting in the sweetest sounds of pleasure you have ever heard. You get off on it so good, wanting for him to make another sound. You bury his cock in you as deep as the position allows it, writing your names with your hips. Just as you had hoped, Yoongi makes the sweetest sound, squeezing your waist.

You moan his name, falling into pleasure with him afterwards. You move needily and definitely motivated by alcohol. It is a messy fuck, passionate and confident and so incredibly good.

Yoongi is glad that he is drunk, otherwise he wouldn’t last long. Alcohol makes his cock work just a little slower than if he was sober. At first he thought it would be a problem, but he sees now that it is a blessing. You feel so good - too good - and he wants it to last longer.

“It feels good, please fuck me, please don’t stop”, he begs you, arching his back and curling his toes when your walls throb around him.

“Oh god, you’re so hot”, you mewl, fulfilling his wish with such vigour the cushions of his sofa squeak and croak. Truly, they have never witnessed such a sloppy, good fuck and the best part is that this is only the beginning.

But enough about the sweet future which awaits unknowing you. In the present, you and he have started to share heat and shaky breaths, bodies hot from the long, passionate fuck you have been doing by now. Your thighs ache, begging for a break. Your pussy is so wet that it started to drip down his shaft and plumb balls. It feels so good, constantly keeping you on edge and yet you can’t seem to fall over it. It’s driving you insane by now.

“Fuck”, you are both laughing and moaning your words, tickling his ear with them, “I’m really fucking drunk, it’s hard to get there.”

“Same, ah, but it feels….so good”, he agrees, head dizzy to the point he has to grab the edge of the sofa for support. You have him on cloud nine, high, feeling out of this world.

“It does, you do. Just need more.”

Yoongi flails with his hand on the cushion, trying to find the vibrator. You hand it to him, just as you help him push the button to turn it on. The rest he can do by himself. He guides it between your bodies, connecting it with your lower stomach first.

“Lower, baby, that’s my stomach”, you giggle, claiming his lips in a passionate kiss.

“Sorry”, Yoongi purrs, obeying your orders with such precision you growl and feed him your tongue.

He welcomes it gladly, drooling all over your lips which in this moment is so goddamn sexy and endearing to you. To think you ruin him to the point of sloppy kisses being his norm. You are going to be so fucking obsessed with this man, showing him your growing fondness with deep rolls of your hips.

He can feel the vibrations too, grabbing your upper back as his cock finally begins to work again. This is going to break him and he fears he might pass out from it. He digs his heels into the cushion, meeting your movements needily and without a plan. The only thing his body runs on is how he feels beneath you and the warmth of your tight walls around his cock.

Your body trembles, unoccupied hand burying itself deep in his luscious locks. The kiss breaks but you stay close, panting and moaning into each other’s mouths.

“This is getting me there”, you whimper.

“Me too”, he croaks.

“Yoongi, I…I love you”, you confess, finally falling over the sweet edge. It feels so good, so intense and soul-consuming that you find yourself sobbing and shaking.

Yoongi breaks the second you dropped the big L word, deep voice coming out as little gasps of your name and fingers grasping you for dear life. He didn’t even think that he could orgasm that intensely, but your emotional confession makes it possible. He feels on cloud nine, curling his toes and arching his back.

You collapse on him after your high, dropping the vibrator on the floor accidentally.

“What was that?” he mumbles into your shoulder, cock still throbbing inside you and ears ringing.

“Toy”, you lull, walls pulsating in the afterglow.

“Ah.”

He wraps his arms around you, wiggling his hips a little to ensure his cock would slip out of you. He doesn’t want to risk it softening and the condom slipping off. Cuddling like this, you recover, sharing silence and warmth. You are both so drunk, heads turning even as you lie down. It is almost as if being so connected and sharing such a passionate moment made it worse. You don’t mind it however, you have each other’s presence and that feels very safe to have.

“So this just happened”, Yoongi breaks the silence.

“I know”, you say and break into giddy snickers instantly. Yoongi joins you without hesitation, sharing in the warm fuzzy happiness you and he get to experience together.

“I can’t believe I did that. We did that.”

“It was so hot.”

“It was.”

He hums, rubbing his hands up and down your back. You settle into him with a content sigh, playing with his messy hair.

“The studio is really soundproof, right?”

“It is. Trust me I was louder on my own. Nobody heard me.”

“You are so hot, it’s insane.”

He chuckles lazily, craning his neck to kiss whatever part of your head he reaches first. You purr happily, chasing his kiss by tilting your head closer to him. Another kiss is placed to your heated face, you retort it as best as possible.

“Soo, uhm”, he begins, eyes sparkly and droopy, “you dropped the L word.”

“Oh god, too soon? I’m sorry, please can we just forget-“

“Hush, don’t worry. I’m glad you did. I love you too, just didn’t wanna say it first and scare you away.”

You lift your head. Yoongi meets your eyes.

“You feel the same?”

“I do. I have done so for a while”, he says, smiling softly and reaching up to brush the back of his hand down your face.

“Wow Yoongi, I’m so happy”, you confess, claiming his lips in a giggly kiss.

And of course, because Yoongi is drunk and happy and giddy, he giggles with you. What you and he are having might still be new, but it is right and it is good and it will last. You are both so sure of it.

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totheblood · 7 months ago

Text

white horse

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer notices a change in you and helps you in his own spencer way

warnings: mostly fluff, grief mentions.

a/n: wrote this short thing to fix my spencer reid obsession! AI AUDIOS in the fic also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 1k

"my heart always wants to run."

Spencer was unfocused.

The hum of the air conditioner in the precinct wasn’t enough to drown out the thousands of thoughts in his head. What he should have been doing was analyzing the geographical profile of the current unsub, maybe even collecting witness statements or completing paperwork, but no. Spencer Reid was unfocused on the case and completely focused on you.

Ever since Hotch presented the case your entire body language had changed. It was like you had folded in on yourself, deflated in a way that made Spencer’s heart crunch. On the flight to LA, you nervously bit at your nails as the team spoke, bouncing ideas off each other, not contributing to the conversation like you usually did. You took a backseat in this case and for the life of him, Spencer couldn’t figure out why.

The minute you joined the BAU you were as elusive as they came. You barely spoke about yourself, never attended group gatherings, and kept conversations strictly professional. Spencer used to brainstorm reasons as to why you were so reserved, but he stopped once he started thinking of ways to get you to like him.

He would bring you the mini muffins from the cafeteria that were always sold out by noon, but you would always politely decline and claim you had just eaten. He would sit next to you on the jet and make small talk to which you replied with one-word answers. He always made an effort to include you in conversations not pertaining to work but you just would not budge. The only time he got a glimpse into the real you was when he made a stupid off-hand joke about Aristotle and you chuckled from your desk. He did his best to ignore the feeling that swelled in his chest.

Now he was getting a glimpse into your life in a way that he didn’t expect. You were on edge. Something about this case was personal to you. He noticed it in the way you took small gasps every time a new body was found, or how you opted to do paperwork instead of being in the field. As someone who has seen you do a million takedowns with a smile on your face, Spencer knew something was wrong when you opted to stay back. The unsub was kidnapping pairs of sisters, murdering one, and letting the other live. It was gruesome and cruel, and he was accelerating. Spencer should have been doing literally anything to help, but his attention was on you.

“I can feel you staring,” you breathed from your place at the large conference table, not looking up from the paperwork.

“Oh, uh-” Spencer fumbled as he sat up, “I’m not- I wasn’t really staring, I would say I was observing.”

You put your pen down and looked up at him, eyes squinted as you looked at his face, “Why?”

There was an edge to your voice, like you were already pissed and he was just making it worse.

“Well, you usually write faster, you have a notch in between your eyebrows like you’re thinking really hard about something, or trying not to. And you, uh, scratch the back of your ear when you’re nervous,” he blurted out, sitting up straighter, “and uh, I wanted to make sure you were… okay,”

His last sentence made you sit up straighter as your whole face softened. You looked down at the papers in front of you then back up at him, “I didn’t realize anyone noticed,” you whispered voice low.

“Well,” he started, getting up and moving to sit down next to you, “you’re one of us… aaand we’re profilers, we kind of notice these things.”

You let out a small laugh as you shook your head and looked up at him. His hazel eyes were practically sparkling as he stared at you. If you were being completely honest, it was intimidating.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been,” you squint your eyes, thinking of the word to think of, “distant. I’m just not used to all of this, it’s overwhelming.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said almost instantly, voice soft, “This job is a lot, I don’t blame you. But today… this case,” his voice trailed off.

You took a deep sigh, resting your hands in your hands as you shut your eyes for a minute before you spoke, “My sister… she died. I don’t want to talk about it but, this case reminds me of it. Reminds me of her.”

“I understand,” Spencer hummed, in such a soft voice that it almost instantly soothed you.

“God, it happened so long ago I just don’t understand why I can’t get over it,” you shook your head, rubbing at your face before speaking again, “it’s like every time I remember it, I shut down. It’s like I’m broken or something.”

Spencer paused for a moment, looking you over before speaking, “Did you know that grief can actually alter your brain chemistry? Research has shown that the intense emotions associated with grief can increase levels of cortisol which can impact memory and cognitive function. In fact, there's evidence suggesting that the brain of a grieving person might resemble that of someone with a traumatic brain injury.”

You looked over at him, eyes a little wide as if you were taking in everything he just said.

“I don’t know if that helps but-” Spencer started but was cut off by the sound of your voice.

“It helps,” you breathed a laugh, “it really helps, so uh, thanks.”

“You know, I’m always here if you need someone to talk to-” He spoke before tumbling over his words, “I mean we’re all here if you need someone, not just me but all of us.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile which he returned, “Thank you, Spencer,” you looked back at your paper before glancing back at him, “I might take you up on that offer.”

With his cheeks tinged pink, he nodded, picked up his messenger bag and exited the precinct conference room where Derek was stood in the doorway, clapping a hand on his back as he exited, “You’re in deep, pretty boy,” he commented with a laugh.

“Shut up,” Spencer said under his breath, his cheeks now growing a shade or two darker.

You had said maybe the most you ever had to him in your entire four months of working there and Spencer left the room blushing. He was for sure in deep.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic

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bearambles · 5 months ago

Note

Okok little request if ur up for it. Just Hamzah x reader (gn if mentioned) where they have a smoke sesh together in his new apartment but reader gets too comfortable and accidentally falls asleep on Hamzah with the cats.

Just pure fluff lmaoo I just can't get the thought out of my head I need to grip his shirt like a child he just looks so comfy :')

Also idc what format it can be headcanon or a small fic, whatever u feel!!

close to you 🎀 (hamzah)

words: 1.1k

warnings: use of weed, making out, fluff, established relationship

note: hi lovelies!! im so sorry for the lack of posts recently - im on vacation and ive had no time or motivation. on the ride home though, im gonna try to catch up to requests!! and im thinking abt writing smut again 🤭

“do you wanna smoke?”

hamzahs head turns from looking at the ceiling to looking at you. he looks almost nervous, his eyes darting across your face like he did the first time he kissed you. you smile at the thought and sit up on his bed.

he’d invited you over to see his new apartment (finally). you’d ended up in his room playing with his new cats, blue and red, who seemed to take a liking to you. blue sits in your lap now, and you scratch behind her ears as you speak.

“like, a blunt?”

he stays laying down, red lying on his chest. he pets her and laughs softly.

“nah, i have a pen. but it’s the same idea.”

he raises an eyebrow, “you have smoked before, right?”

you blush, your face heating up. you look down to the kitty in your lap, and bring both legs up so they’re crossed.

“duh. just like. once or twice in high school, though. and…” you trail off.

“and?” he asks, picking up red in his arms and sitting up next to you.

“i don’t think i did it right. like, i didn’t really feel anything.” you admit

“oh okay. that’s okay. i mean like- if you don’t wanna-“

“no, i do.” you say quickly, “i just - like you’ll have to teach me i guess. that sounds stupid. but the first time was like, a bong and i totally didn’t inhale shit.”

he laughs, and the sound makes you crack a smile, even after embarrassing yourself. he’s wearing his camo hoodie, and his curls are just the perfect amount of messy. one falls into his eyes and he blushes it away with his palm.

“that’s okay, i can show you. though, i don’t know how great a teacher i’ll be.”

he places red in your lap next to blue and gets up from the bed, going to dig through his drawers for his pen. you watch the way he moves, the way his sweatshirt rides up and shows a bit of his back. the way his pants fit. you look away when you catch yourself being a creep.

he finds it and goes to sit in front of you this time, near the end of the bed. he’s closer now, his legs matching yours in a sort of lazy criss-cross. he observes the device in his hands for a second before bringing it to his lips and inhaling.

when he releases the smoke, he tilts his head up and you stare at his neck. the smoke leaves his lips slowly and quickly disappears. he looks back to you and holds it out for you to take.

“it’s gonna die soon so we can just finish it today.” he says as you grab the pen from his hand, “unless you like, go crazy after a few hits.”

you roll your eyes and look at the pen in your hand, before lifting it to your mouth. you look to him for confirmation and he nods, so you deeply inhale like you saw him do.

“okay, now inhale again, and you’ll feel it in the back of your throat.”

you do as he says and feel it - it sort of burns. after a moment you puff out your cheeks and then release the smoke, slow at first. that is until you cough, and the rest comes out.

he laughs and takes the pen from your hand.

“you okay?”

you nod, but keep coughing for a moment. sitting up, you reach your hand out again, wiggling your fingers to ask for the pen back. he raises an eyebrow at you.

“you want it again already.” you nod. “alright, but be careful, for real. don’t do too much just to impress me.”

you give him a look.

“i’m not, i swear. just, lemme try again okay?”

he hands you the pen and you take another hit, this one burning less. you feel it in your head, and you smile as you let out the smoke into his face. he waves his hand to get it away, but he’s laughing.

“thatta girl, hey, you feel good?”

“i feel great.” you say, going in to kiss him. he kisses back and leans forward, wrapping his hands around your waist. you uncross your legs and sit up on your knees.

his mouth is soft and you moan into it as he moves his hands down to the back of your legs, lifting you onto his waist. from there he moves back so he’s up against the bedframe with you in his lap.

it’s like that for the next hour - slow kisses and the pen passed between you two. neither of you suggest anything more despite your closeness (and hamzahs obvious hard-on). there’s a soft sort of feel to the moment.

“i wanna try something.” he says eventually, taking the device from your fingers and moving it to his mouth.

you look at him with curiosity and lean back slightly to watch. he pushes the smoke around in his mouth a bit before taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you close. you open your mouth to kiss him, but he stays just an inch away, and while your lips are parted, blows the smoke into your open mouth.

inhaling it, you smile against his mouth and properly kiss him. you can feel his grin forming too. he deepens the kiss and his hold on your waist tightens.

when he pulls away, his eyes dance across your face and his mouth rests in a lazy smile.

“what?” you ask, regarding his staring problem

“just so…so fuckin pretty.”

you bite your lip to hide your grin and shake your head. your hair is a mess after all that’s happened and your makeup is smeared. still, hamzah seems mesmerized.

you bury your head in his neck for him to hold you. his hoodie smells like the smoke and a bit of his cologne. you breathe in and out repeatedly, smelling him. he smells so good, so safe.

slowly you slump down to lay on his chest. on instinct, his hand reaches to play with your hair, pushing it out of your face.

it’s funny, hamzah never seemed handsy before this. you never considered him someone who likes physical touch - not with friends or even family, mostly. but with you it’s different. he didn’t expect it either, but as soon as he felt your soft skin on his, he never wanted it any other way.

the motion of him stroking your hair makes you sleepy and eventually your eyes drift closed. you sleep for hours - if you had any actual plans for the day you would wake up stressed and anxious. instead, you wake up and see his head above yours, resting against his pillow.

he’s fallen asleep too.

i hope you enjoyed! requests are open! >_<

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader #hamzah imagines #hamzah x y/n #hamzahsmut #slushy noobz #hamzah fic #hamzahthefantastic smut #muffin-berry #hamzahxreader #hamzah smut #hamzah the fantastic #hamzah fluff #hamzah angst

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coffee-and-tea-time · 5 months ago

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𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Out of the menu, still the choice ๋࣭ ⭑

Yandere! Shopkeeper x Willing! Reader

We finally got a winner! *Clap clap* if you want context, you can go here but it's not that necessary we think - the twins

This mf was really more hard to write that I expected but nevertheless we tried to match the energy of the seller pickers so at least it was really fun ngl - Coffee

It took us both a while to draft what we wanted to write for him since he's not a very expressive character and we wanted to try a more subtle approach. If you have any ideas or suggestions for any of them, let us know!! -Tea

Count word: 3.1k (new longest post for now)

Tw: yandere behavior, kind of flirty reader, stalking, kidnaping?, written in you/yours, overall soft yandere, gaslighting, drugging (this really still counts as soft yandere??? believe me, yes), light paranoia, clueless reader

Your eyes scan the papers in your hand, your mind still focused rather on the man that handed you them, sitting right across from him, more specifically, the comment he just murmured. None of the people he mentioned called your attention as much as himself did, perhaps he was more that he presented himself as? He seemed to know much more about you than he’s supposed to, so, was he a yandere as well? And if so, Why miss the chance to tease a potential yandere?

"Huh, so you think I should go out more often?"

"Well, I'm just concerned about your vitamin D intake, that's all. You need more sun Dear, for the sake of your health"

He smugly smirks at you like he's saying obvious facts that you should already know about yourself… though his smirk falters, his lips pressing into a tight line as he rethinks his words, though it was too late to retract them, it was your time to shine.

"Oh? Then why not help me with that yourself? You seem to keep a good track of my time outside for some reason, care to explain yourself, Honey?"

You steal his previous smirk, it now decorating your lips, curving them upwards smugly as he seems to sink into himself, his pen flipping between his fingers as a nervous fidget, scanning your expression, seemingly trying to understand what you were attempting to do with these witty remarks.

“Dear, allow me to remind you, you came all the way here to have an obsessive partner after you walk out this door, I'm sure anyone in the list will love to fulfill the job, sadly, I'm not one of them, I'm deeply sorry if my previous comments left any space for this misunderstanding"

He seems to lifts up a wall between you and him with his formality as if attempting to keep things formal and cordial though his eyes tell a different story, his eyes, akin to a snake’s narrow slightly, scanning your features as if daring you to continue this charade; a sweet chill runs down your spine, which only widens your smile further.

"Ow, come on, there's no need to lie so blatantly to my face, you know exactly why I'm here, and for that I can also tell exactly what is happening here”

He huffs, his fingers running through his black hair, messing up his slick back hairstyle into something much more fitting to match with his semi-formal attire.

"As I just said, I'm not a yandere, let's stop this little game, Dear, I’m not sure how you arrived at this conclusion, little detective…"

Those gray eyes glare at you without even missing a beat, narrowing further to make a subtle warning: quit fooling around. Do you care? No, honestly, him staring down at you only serves to fuel your burning curiosity about the man.

"Fine then, at least answer me this, how did you know i don't go out much?"

The man scoffs as if the answer was as obvious as looking in a mirror.

"Come on now, you are chronically online, I just made a lucky guess"

… Gotcha

"My screen time is something even weirder for you to know for certain though, don't you think?"

A silence ensues, tension and realization thick in the air as his posture changes completely, from relaxed and smug to tense and anxious, he leans forward, eyes avoiding you suddenly, like he wasn't piercing you with his stare just a few seconds ago.

You let your question linger, knowing you won, knowing he had no way to protest your question seamlessly

"... don't tell management"

It was now your turn to sigh. Perhaps he was being truthful and this was just a big misunderstanding. Maybe his “background check” on you wasn't something he was supposed to do ethically speaking, but something he felt compelled to do. Then again, they did have this incident with a fool attempting to illegitimately make a yandere harem. Perhaps it was time to let this go, you tried at least, but being overly pushy could get you kicked out and leaving empty handed wasn't something you were willing to do after finally finding the courage to enter the shop.

"Well, I don't know, I choose Oliver"

You said, the smirk in your lips faltering into a soft defeated smile, shrugging as you chose someone at random, pointing blindly at the papers.

"He's already purchased"

He counters your response abruptly, his tone still formal yet with an air of defensiveness. You wondered, if he was already purchased, then why show it to you at all?

"Damn, okay, then Lio…"

You quickly point again at a random profile, barely even reading the name then scanning his expression, his head shaking even before you managed to pronounce the name fully.

"Sorry"

He responded with a shrug, his shoulders relaxing as if the tension he felt before was gone.

You smile at him once again, well, thankfully you weren't just flirting with the wrong target.

"You’re doing this on purpose"

You announce, amused by the realization, a smile widening in your lips as one seems to simultaneously tug at the corners of his, a mischievous grin adorning his sly stare, those eyes bearing into yours like a wicked fox.

"You choose me, be loyal to your own decisions… though, really, don't tell management. I do maintain I'm not some sort of obsessed maniac, Dear"

That's the most suspicious thing a person can say in a yandere shop but you take it.

"I care next to nothing about management… so, it's a date?".

(...)

You leave the store, hands empty, but not really. You walk with an extra cheer in your step, you managed to get yourself a date with the seller of the damn shop, not one of the many names in those papers, but the shopkeeper, talk about a plot twist.

And so you make your way back home, waiting for the time to arrive, the time in which you'd meet up with the man outside of work in a sweet little restaurant down the same street where the shop is located. As you get yourself ready, checking your outfit, double checking…triple checking, your mind drifts to your conversation with the seller and the way everything he said seemed to avoid each and every one of your questions skillfully. You managed to get his number with the excuse of arranging the meeting time and place, yet… that was all, you didn't even get his name, did you?.

You are brought back to reality with the buzzing of your phone, a notification from an unknown number… though it was the sellers, how did he get your number? Sure, he gave you his, but he shouldn't have a way to contact you yet, that information wasn't even in the paperwork either since you never filled any forms out, you didn't purchase any of the yanderes.

» “Hey, it's the shopkeeper”

You raised a brow at your screen, watching as the little dots bobbed up and down, indicating he was still typing another message

» “just checking if you're still up for this date you so boldly proposed. My shift is over”

His texts are a little dry, yet you can feel the awkwardness from them already, he wasn't fooling anybody, he was nervous as hell.

You quickly type up a response, resuming your teasing over text like you never left the shop and so you text back and forth until the time arrives and you leave your home, walking down the street to the restaurant he sent you the location to. Once you got there, amusement tugged your lips up into a smile. This man, acting so unapproachable, so closed off, was eagerly waiting outside the restaurant with that classic “I'm just looking at my phone” stance, but damn he looked good.

He wasn't wearing that semi-formal suit from before, but rather a tight black shirt, jeans and a jacket. His hair was down and you had to admit, it looked way better that way. You check the time on your phone, you arrive just in time, you look relieved but can’t help but wonder how the seller managed to close up shop, go back home, change and arrive before you when his last text was just a few minutes ago telling you his shift was over.

“aw, you arrived early to meet me? It’s so cute how eager you are for someone who didn't even tell me his name”

You meet his gaze as you approach him with a playful demeanor, his smile still decorating his face as always.

He huffs, glancing up from his phone, his eyes crinkling in a mischievous grin. He pockets his phone and adjusts his jacket, leaning a little closer as he speaks

“Oh, Dear, you got it all wrong, i just got here, but, i must say…waiting would have been worth it, you look stunning”

He said with a soft chuckle and you nudged his shoulder in response to his compliment, though as you nudge him you feel how cold his jacket is, of course he didn't wait for you

“Right, anyways, you know, it's only fair that I get your name. I know you so desperately want to seem all mysterious and shit, but i need to know who I'm flirting with”

You tease bluntly with a chuckle, he tenses up a little, looking away for a second, trying to disguise his blush by rolling his eyes at you.

“I suppose you could call me Jade…”

“Well, jade, pleasure to meet you”

You said trying to imitate his tone of voice as he guides the way inside the restaurant.

“Since I answered your question, it's only fair you answer mine, don't you agree?"

His gaze seems like he's taking notes of your every expression as he gently pulls a chair for you to sit on before he sits across from you.

"Are we doing a little bit of banter here? Huh, that's quite the contrary of what you been doing all day, but please, go on, I'm thrilled to know what you wish to know of me"

His eyes move to the menu, although you can say his entire focus was still on you… because of the fact he can't possibly read the menu when it's upside down.

"So, if I may ask… why did you choose to flirt with me when you came to the shop to get yourself a yandere?"

"Why not? You could say I went there to find someone that catches my eye, and jokes on you, my eyes were set on you the moment you opened that door to guide me into the store"

You restrain yourself not to giggle like a fool when the top of his ears turns red while he's attempting to keep his perpetually smiling facade, oblivious to his own reaction to your words.

"Then, do yo-"

His words quickly die on his throat as a waiter gets to your table, you didn't have the time to catch the small twitch of his eyebrows that lasted a second.

"Good evening, I will be your server for the night, what can I get started for you two?"

As you two order normally, you can't help but feel a sense of discomfort as the waiter always speaks focusing his eyes on you, but Jade doesn't seem to react so you dismissed it, you're only feeling weird because of the awkwardness of being on a first date, although you can't help but sigh faintly with relief after the server walks away.

"Well… anyways, since I replied to one of your questions, guess it's my turn!"

You said smiling, trying to brush off the weird feeling you just had, focusing on your task in hand: the date.

“so, why don’t you tell me a little about your hobbies?”

You gaze at him while his head tilts slightly, as if doubting if to reply or just dodge the question like the past ones.

“Well, they differ depending on the time, I’m the type of person that get a new one every once in a while but one that has stuck since high school is embroidery”

Honestly, you can picture it, he does seem like the type of person who enjoys calm classy hobbies, old lady hobbies if you will. The image is sort of endearing.

"Since high school? Wow, what was your first piece?"

You feel relieved that he seems more open to conversation now that you both are formally on this date. Sadly for you and lucky for him, you focused so much on listening to his answers that you didn't catch the small blush dusting his cheeks.

"...It was a skull, edgy, I know. I really like how it turned out back then though”

“A skull? Very edgy indeed, why-”

Your question was left hanging in the air as an arm interfered with your vision of Jade, the waiter placing your plates on the table with a polite smile. The interjection was a little awkward, but there's not much you can do about it, the waiter is just doing his job.

Though as you lower your voice to a stop, interrupted by the waiter, you see the slight hint of annoyance in Jade’s face flick for a second just to disappear like it never happened, it makes you wonder if that was a hint of jealousy? It probably wasn't… your yandere rotten brain must be seeing things, right?

As you two indulge in conversation, enjoying your little date, you almost lose track of time. It feels like in the blink of an eye, the date was already at its final point, the only thing that popped your bubble was his phone ringing.

"...sorry, it's my boss, allow me to step out real quick, it won't take long I'm sure"

You nod to him before he makes his way to the restroom to pick up the call. Honestly you feel kind of sad that the dinner was reaching its end but well, you can't be that clingy on the first date.

As you ponder between when and where the perfect second date will be or if it's best to wait for him to ask for another, the waiter interrupts your thoughts, placing a glass of what looks like raspberry juice on the table.

"Excuse me sir, I didn't order this"

The waiter gives you a puzzled expression as if it were a competition who is more confused by the situation but is quick to giggle as if it was an inside joke of his before reassuring you.

"Oh, don't worry, it's already been paid”

You didn't have time to ask further questions when the busy server was already on another table that needed him, well, it looks tasty anyways, why reject something when it's free?

You honestly feel like luck is on your side today; you got the confidence to try and flirt with Jade and successfully get yourself a really good date! And you also get a free drink as a way to celebrate your little achievement, so you take a big gulp.

Huh? Weird, you know the taste of raspberry by heart, why does it taste more bitter? Ugh, the fruit is probably not that fresh , even the consistency feels a little thicker too. Well, raspberry juice is supposed to be like that, perhaps you got too used to store bought and got yourself confused.

"Well, is not like a restaurant would sell 'expired juice' as their main drink, surely I'm just overthinking it"

You reason with yourself in a whisper as you set the drink aside, ugh, maybe you drank too big of a sip, you start to feel like you got brain freeze or something.

(…)

“Dear, are you feeling well? Do you need to go to the restroom?”

The sound of his relaxed voice quickly fills your ears, your mind feels hazy but you nevertheless try focusing on him as he sits back down to the table, catching his expression changing from the usual laid back grin to a worried frown. You didn't even notice when he came back from his work call, not until he was right in front of you, it's like time passed while your brain was stopped, something wasn't good…

"Did something happen? Do you need a pain-killer? Did the food upset your stomach?"

The rapid fire questions overfill your already overwhelmed mind as his hands hold your shoulders before he places his forehead against yours to check your temperature and although you tried, your currently unstable self only managed to hardly mumble some words.

"I… don't know, I just drank that"

You focus your gaze on the glass of juice and he follows your gaze with a frown as if his laid back mask is cracked.

"the color is slightly off and ice is only floating up to the middle of the glass…"

Was there really something wrong with your drink? What was in there? How bad is it? What's going to happen to you? Was it the waiter? Was there someone in the restaurant you didn't see? Why is this happening today?

"Dear, focus on me, okay? Don't worry, you're fine, just dizzy, I will make sure you are okay, alright? Take a deep breath for me darling"

Through your dizziness you watch as he moves skillfully and quickly, paying the bill as fast as he could to take you out of there, his arms tightly wrapped around you to steady your wobbly stance, guiding you out of the busy restaurant. It's almost as if you were drunk, which didn't make sense, you felt yourself slipping further out of your senses, sounds muffled and your vision blurry, your legs and hands feeling tingly with each step you took with his assistance.

"Jade, I-"

"Don't worry Dear, I will take care of you, just trust me, alright?"

You can help but feel grateful that even in this awful situation, you managed to have someone so gentle and caring with you, but before you can try to babble a thank you, you feel your mind shut off like an old tv… don't worry, you are being taken care of, Dear.

He just wants to look after you, it would be so creepy if he left you unconscious at your place since he's not supposed to know your address yet, so, guess the only choice is him letting you crash at his apartment, it's fine, you will find yourself at home there, it's really cozy!

. . .

Wait, did you really believe him? That's kind of hilarious, try guessing again.

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest and divider by Tea ⚘

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zepskies · 2 months ago

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Lost Time

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: When Russell takes longer than usual on a job out of town, you realize how hard it is to live half a life with him.

AN: I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while now! Here’s a sequel story in the Every Second Counts world. Also, this is one of my entries for @jacklesversebingo!

Prompt: “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

Word Count: 4.9K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, fluff upon fluff, implied smut, mild spice.~ **DOES NOT contain spoilers for 2x02. This was written long before the new episode came out. But look out for the little announcement at the end. Some (smutty) bonus content on the way!

💜 Series Masterlist || Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Wolfing down lunch alone in your office usually meant you wouldn’t be disturbed. That distraction tended to come in the form of either Dr. Goldstein, History Department Chair (AKA: your boss), or Chris Belmont.

The latter was a language arts professor who liked to pop in on you when you were alone in the teacher’s lounge, often trying to revive yourself with a cup of Keurig coffee. Or he’d sit down next to you (uninvited) and talk your ear off.

Today, however, you made time for your brother between bites of your admittedly sad ham sandwich. You held the phone to your ear while you ate and tried to resist the urge to answer emails. This was the first month that he’d gotten phone privileges. You wanted to give him your undivided attention.

Not to mention, you genuinely wanted to know how Charlie was doing in rehab. He told you that his leg was healing up well after the surgery to repair the damage from Eddie Mendez’s bullet. Charlie was also getting put through his paces in the substance rehabilitation program, but he sounded truly sober. He sounded like himself.

“I finally get visitors this weekend,” he said. “Dave and Manny are coming by.”

“Dave and Manny. They sound familiar,” you said, tapping your chin with a pen out of habit, even though you weren’t writing anything down. You brightened with recognition. “Oh! Didn’t they serve with you?”

“Yeah, they were in my unit on the first go-round,” Charlie said, with a tone of fondness that you recognized. You remembered now. Those guys were like his brothers during his first tour of Iraq. He’d come home for a few months afterward, changed. You saw it behind his eyes.

And then the second tour. That was what almost killed his spirit.

“It’s good that you guys reconnected,” you said. A smile graced your lips. Charlie needed all the support and familiarity he could get, and coming from his brothers in the Air Force, it was all you could ask for really. “You got time to see your little sister?”

“Ha. Younger maybe. Definitely not little.”

“Whatever, gimpy,” you teased. He’d told you that he hated his crutches, made him feel like an old, one-legged pirate.

“I think I can pencil you in,” he said. There was good humor in his voice. “How about the Mountain Man? How’s he doing?”

Your smile dimmed. You twiddled your pen between your fingers. “He’s…good. He’s on a job right now, so I don’t think he’ll make it back in time for this weekend. But I’m sure he’d wish you well. He asks about you every time he comes home.”

“Oh, yeah? How long’s he been gone for this time?”

Your lips pursed. “Couple weeks.”

Three, and counting.

“But he’s supposed to get back next week.”

“Have you heard from him?” Charlie asked.

“Here and there,” you replied, leaning to one side of your desk chair. “He’s not really supposed to contact anyone when he’s on a job.”

“Mhmm.”

“Charlie,” you warned. You knew what he was thinking, even by that placid tone of his voice. Your brother sighed on the line.

“Look, I like Russell. What can I say, after what he did for you? For me,” Charlie said. “But…I don’t have to like what he does, or what it’s doing to you.”

Your teeth clenched, but you tried not to bristle. You knew he was just looking out for you, for once like an older brother should.

“I know what you’re saying, but we’re good. I’m good,” you said. “I knew what I was getting into…”

You saw Dr. Goldstein peek into the narrow, rectangular window in the middle of your office door. He gave you a little wave through the glass.

“Hey, Charlie, I’m sorry but I need to let you go. My boss wants to talk to me,” you said.

Another heavy sigh. “All right, I get it. Evade an unsavory conversation by playing the ‘boss’ card.”

Despite yourself, you smiled. “It’s true! Look, I love you. I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Oh, fine. Evade away… Love you too,” he said begrudgingly, but in the kind of way that told you he was smiling too.

You hung up with him and beckoned Goldstein inside. He let himself in and closed the door behind him before he approached your desk. He didn’t have a stack of essays in his hand, so you counted that as a small blessing. After exchanging the usual pleasantries, however, he dropped a familiar bomb on you.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, sweetheart, but would you mind taking over my 5:00 p.m. class tomorrow? I have to step out early for an appointment,” he said.

You grated internally, for more than one reason. Primarily at the way he once again called you sweetheart. In your whole life, you’d only ever given one man permission to sweetheart you, and it certainly wasn’t Paul Goldstein.

“Well, my schedule is a bit tight tomorrow, but I think I can make that work—”

“Great! Thanks again, sweetheart,” he said, already getting up from the chair across from your desk to head out. Your voice stopped him at the door.

“Ah, you know…” You stood up from your desk. Part of you was hesitant, but the other part of you—the part that had survived nearly being shot and killed in the woods—stood firm. You rounded your desk but left a respectable distance between you and your boss.

“Paul, I would appreciate it if you would just…call me by my name. In a more professional capacity, just like I do for you,” you said. “Sweetheart, honey, that kind of thing just doesn’t make me feel very respected in the workplace.”

Goldstein blinked in surprise. He was taken aback, you could tell, as if what you’d said had never once occurred to him. Or maybe he just never thought you would call him out like that. You saw him mentally calculating though. After some recent sexual harassment allegations in the Sciences department, he likely didn’t want the headache and the red tape of an HR writeup.

“Of course. I’m sorry if I… Well, I hope you know I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said.

“I know, Paul,” you replied. But what you didn’t say was, It’s all right.

The longer you remained quietly poised with your hands laced in front of you, the more Goldstein seemed to get the message. Eventually, he cast his gaze away and left your office with a parting nod.

When the door shut behind him, your shoulders slumped as you let out a deep breath. You grabbed onto his vacated chair to steady yourself, smoothing your hand down the length of your pencil skirt.

“Well, okay then.” You smiled to yourself and grabbed your phone and keys off your desk. That small win deserved an afternoon coffee break.

You ventured over to the faculty break room and started setting up an extra-large mug of coffee from the Keurig. Pumpkin spice, here I come. Finally PSL season.

While you waited for it to percolate, you checked your phone and found no missed notifications, no calls or texts from your boyfriend. Biting the edge of your lip, you gave into the urge to check your text thread with him.

Hey, just checking in. You okay?

That was the last text you sent Russell, a few days ago. The fact that he hadn’t had time to read it worried you.

It had been three weeks since he left town on another job for the Horizon Group. He was able to reply here and there on some jobs, but often you had to deal with days of radio silence in between. This time, it had been a full two weeks since you last spoke to him–a five-minute call after he checked into his hotel, somewhere in Belize.

Despite your attempts otherwise, not a day had gone by where you hadn’t thought about him, worried about him, wondered where he was, and what he was doing.

Even after four months, this arrangement hadn’t gotten easier. Sometimes, it felt like you were living half a life without him.

The coffeemaker chiming briefly broke you out of your melancholy, but you let the coffee sit there and cool while you deliberated with your phone in hand.

You tried to resist, since you didn’t want to bother him…but you ended up sending him another text.

Hey. I don’t want to distract you. Just want you to know…

I miss you.

“Oh, look who’s here.”

You looked up, already wanting to expel a breath of annoyance at the familiar voice. You plastered on a polite smile and turned to see exactly who you expected to see: your colleague Chris. There was really nothing wrong with the French and Spanish professor…except that he talked too much, and was often too eager to get into your business.

“How’s your day going?” he asked. After he grabbed a soda from the fridge, he parked himself in front of you and laid a hand on the counter. With one of the round dining tables so close, it ensured that you would have to squeeze by him in order to leave.

“Pretty good, just have one more class before I head out for the day,” you said. You intended to just make amiable conversation, but you didn’t realize you’d just given him an opening.

“You know, me too. Just my freshman Spanish 1 kids. Dumb as doornails really. They barely even look up when I talk,” he said. “Literally, I could be reciting Mein Kampf and they wouldn’t even know I was speaking German.”

You couldn’t quite smile. You opened your mouth to reply, but he beat you to it.

“Hey, since we’re going to be clocking out soon, maybe you want to go for a drink with me. I know this bar. A little rough, but the price is right and the food’s not bad. This place called Howley’s,” he said.

Your non-smile dropped further. You really didn’t know where to start on this one.

“Ah, well—” you began, but again, he cut you off.

“To be honest, I’ve kind of been meaning to ask you for a while. I just uh, haven’t been able to find the right time. Since, you know, our class schedules don’t seem to match,” he added with a boyish smile.

He was cute, you could admit, with the dirty blonde hair down to his ears and the dark brown eyes. But it didn’t shake your resolve.

“Look, Chris. I’m sorry, but—”

“Is because we work together?” he said, once again interrupting you. “The whole workplace relationship thing?”

“No,” you said. It was sharper than you meant through your annoyance. “I actually have a boyfriend.”

Chris’s excited-nervous energy gradually deflated, his eyes dimming.

“Really? I’ve never seen you with anyone,” he said.

You quirked a brow at him. “Well, he doesn’t work here, so he wouldn’t really need to come to campus.”

You didn’t tell him that Russell was Dory’s older brother, and had in fact been on campus a couple of times. You shouldn’t have needed to explain it.

Chris gave you a wry look. “Sure. You really have a boyfriend, or are you just trying to let me down easy?”

You almost gaped at the man’s audacity. Instead, your lips pressed together, and your head tilted as you stared at him incredulously.

“Does it matter?” you asked.

He blinked. “Uh, what?”

“Whatever I say next, are you going to believe it?” You finished dumping in a couple of tiny creamer cups into your likely lukewarm coffee, and you took the styrofoam cup to-go. “Good luck with the freshmen.”

You slid past him and left the teacher’s lounge. Your path took you, brusquely and irritated, back to your office. You couldn’t help but replay every bit of your interactions with Goldstein, and then Chris, in your mind like a bad movie.

Jesus Christ. If I have to deal with one more idiotic man today, I swear—

Speak of the devil, and he appears.

There was a man leaning against your office door, his hands in the pocks of his jeans. He looked up at your approach, and he smiled.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

This time, you paused…and you smiled too. There he was in all his rugged glory. Russell Shaw.

You dumped your coffee in a nearby trashcan and hastened over as quickly as you could in your skirt and heels. Russell bent down to sweep you up into his arms, and you leaned up on your toes so you could wrap yours around his shoulders. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling the familiar mix of his cologne and spicy soap.

“Missed you too,” he said, a deep rumble. It washed over you pleasantly.

“I thought you weren’t getting home until sometime next week,” you said, trying to work past the thick well of emotion in your throat. Maybe he heard it in your voice anyway, because Russell soothed a hand over your hair and pressed a kiss near your ear.

“Got finished up early,” he said, with that familiar grin of his. You could hear it in his voice.

You slipped your fingers through his long dark hair. Then you leaned back enough to see his face.

“How’d you know I wasn’t in class?” you asked.

He raised his hand off your back to point up at the sign on your door. It displayed your office hours and the times you were in class. He shot you a wink.

“I might’ve called Dory too,” he said. “She invited us over for dinner tonight. I said we’d be there around seven.”

You tsked and smack his chest, making him flinch.

“Hey!” he protested with a laugh.

“Don’t agree to stuff without me! Now we’re going to be out all night the day you get back,” you said in annoyance.

Russell smoothed down your proverbial feathers, namely by slipping his hands down your back and comfortably settling on your waist.

“Now, come on,” he cajoled. “Need I remind you that she’s my sister, and your best friend, by the way?”

You waved a playfully dismissive hand.

“I know damn well, but I’m also selfish,” you said. You gripped the edges of his familiar green jacket and tugged him closer again. “I want you all to myself tonight.”

Russell’s grin kicked up into high gear. “Oh, yeah? What for?”

You smiled and leaned up on your toes again, your lips approaching his.

“I’m gonna—”

“Hey, Professor!”

Just then, one of your students walked by with a gaggle of her friends. She gave you a little wave, and then an amused look when she noted how you and Russell were intertwined. You quickly set your heels back on the ground and dropped your hands from him.

“Oh shit. Prof’s got game,” one of her friends whispered.

“Yeah, a lumberjack,” she replied.

“Hell, I’d climb him.”

The girls giggled quietly as they continued to make their way down the hall.

Your hand rose to cover your mouth while your face burned hot in embarrassment. Russell, damn him, was smirking like the Cheshire cat. You shot him a little glare.

“Shut up,” you said.

He chuckled, and he allowed you to take his hand and lead him into your office. He closed the door for you, but that was where the chivalry ended.

He hooked his arm around your waist and brought you flush against him. A stunned yelp escaped you. You grabbed onto his arms on reflex, craning your face up to meet him. A smile played on your lips, before he captured them in a kiss filled with heat, and the torture of longing, only broken by your shared relief.

You had the presence of mind to reach behind him and lock the door. Russell took that as an invitation to back you up against your desk, knocking down a carton of pens in his wake. You held his bearded face and gave him as much as he asked for. Until the pace of his kisses eventually slowed and warmed into something more tender, with the brush of his hand against your cheek. You smiled a little against his lips.

He ended up being the first to pull away. His thumb brushed your chin next, and then your thoroughly kissed bottom lip.

“God, I missed you,” he said. You saw the sincerity in his eyes, all the heat and play and teasing aside.

“Me too, baby,” you replied, and your voice was heavy with the truth of it. You slid your hands down his arms. Suddenly you remembered your internal checklist for whenever he came home. “You okay? No hospital stays or checkups needed?”

Your hands continued their perusal over his chest and down his sides. Russell took your hands and un-busied them.

“Completely fine. Everything went off without a hitch,” he said.

You eyed him more warily. After a moment to try and discern if he was downplaying for your sake, you were able to take him at his word. For now. It wouldn’t be the first time he tried to hide an injury from you. You intended to complete a further examination later tonight. You smirked a little at the thought.

“Okay, I’ve just got one more class in a few minutes. Then I can get out of here,” you said.

“All right,” he nodded. “I’ll meet you at home then.”

Your smile turned cheeky. You flattened your palms down his chest, plucking at the edges of his jacket.

“Yeah? You gonna be waiting pretty for me?” you teased.

“You bet,” he agreed. He leaned in close to say lowly in your ear, “But not as pretty as you’re gonna be when I get you all laid out for me. Get myself reacquainted with every sweet part of you.”

“Oh, really?” you said, trying to taper your blush. There was something entirely wrong and right about him talking dirty to you in your own office. You grinned as he began to press tantalizing kisses down your neck. “I guess I’m going to be the appetizer tonight.”

His chuckle resounded in your ears. Russell squeezed your hips and brushed his lips against your skin. Damn him, he knew exactly what he was doing, making small volts of electricity zip down your spine. Warmth plumed between your legs as his beard gently rasped along your neck.

“Sweetheart, you’re the whole damn meal,” he said, in that voice of his, smooth and baritone and perfect.

Your blush intensified, even as your smile couldn’t help but brighten at his words. He nipped just under your ear, earning a stifled whimper from you.

“Are you trying to get us in trouble?” you whispered.

“Hey, I don’t work here,” he teased. His lips never left your skin. “I just reap the benefits.”

You fought against the urge to pinch his side. You grabbed your phone from your desk and checked the time. Shit. Almost 5:00 p.m.

All the while, Russell continued to torture you. His hands were no better than his mouth, caressing a path from your waist to your hips, then squeezing your ass as he pressed you more fully against him. He hummed against your neck.

“Oh, please don’t do this to me,” you whined, even as you clung to the front of his jacket and pressed your forehead into his shoulder. “I have to get to class in like, five minutes.”

“I’ve accomplished quite a lot in five minutes,” Russell said. His nibbling along the shell of your ear was all too distracting as you laughed.

“Oh, I know,” you dryly replied. “But if I let you get your hands on me now, I’m most certainly not going to be able to lecture on the ancient civilization of Mesopotamia.”

His smile grew. “I like it when you talk nerdy to me.”

Your laugh turned into a giggle. Still, your duty to your students won out. You had to press a gentle hand against his chest to push him back.

Russell let out a long-suffering groan, but he pulled away from you without losing his smile. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek.

“I’ll see you at home,” he said.

You agreed, though when he aimed to leave, you couldn’t resist the urge to smack his ass on his way out of your office.

He stopped short and twisted back, pointing a knowing finger at you.

“You don’t play fair, missy,” he said.

You smirked and tossed a kiss at him.

“See you later,” you said.

You loved Dory. You really did. But after a day like today, you were happy to finally be home after dinner at your best friend’s house. You were happy to be where you were in this moment, lying in bed with Russell, wearing nothing but one of his old shirts as Speed played on the TV against the wall.

“You didn’t leave me…I can’t believe it. You didn’t leave me,” you quoted along with Annie, Sandra Bullock’s character.

“Didn’t have anywhere to be just then,” Jack (the beautiful Keanu Reeves) said on the screen. The couple shared a kiss, and you let out a happy hum, making Russell look down on you in bemusement. He had an arm wrapped around you as you laid tucked against his side.

“I have to warn you,” you said for Jack. “I’ve heard relationships based on intense experiences never work.”

“Okay,” Annie (and you) replied. “We’ll have to base it on sex then.”

Jack smiled. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”

As the movie came to an end, you sighed and lowered the volume as the credits rolled.

“How’d you like it?” you asked.

“Was good! Even though my movie buddy decided to quote half the cast,” Russell quipped. He prodded at your side like a pianist playing a Mozart cantata, making you flinch with a squawk of laughter. You grabbed his hand to try and stop him.

When he finally let up, you sighed and caught your breath, leaning against him again.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never seen that movie,” you said. “Practically any movie, for that matter.”

“Hey, I’ve seen stuff…it’s just, you know, we didn’t really have much access to pop culture growing up,” Russell said.

You sobered up; you were reminded that he didn’t have a normal childhood, even less so than yours.

“That’s okay,” you said, resting a comforting hand on his chest. “I’m gonna keep helping you catch up, long as you want me to.”

Russell smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I appreciate that.”

You closed your eyes in content.

“So,” Russell said, interrupting your peace. You heard the mischief in his voice before he even said anything else. “Am I gonna have to knock this Beaufort guy on his ass, or you got that one covered, slugger?”

You huffed in amusement.

“Belmont,” you corrected, opening your eyes again to shoot him a wry glance. “And there won’t be any ass-kicking needed on that one. Just a typical hard-headed man with a slighted ego.”

“Oof, cut him some slack, baby. You’re a hard one to let go of,” Russell teased. You smiled.

“Hey. Don’t butter me up unless you intend to do something about it.”

“Oh, my apologies,” he said. He turned over and waylaid you with kisses along your jaw, then down the column of your throat, and further still, until he met the edge of your shirt. You felt his hands move under the hem of it, slowly bunching up the material as they slid up your body.

Your first coming together when you two got home tonight was fraught, and a bit wild—the kind that nearly broke your headboard (again).

Now, Russell seemed to want to take his time. He guided your shirt up, inch by inch as his lips explored whatever small expanse he bared, from the soft skin of your stomach, to the swell of your breasts. He stopped there, laying a sweet kiss in between them. You watched him with deeper breaths, but you softened when he turned his smile up at you. You saw nothing but affection in his eyes.

“You know, the best part of my day is coming home to you,” he said.

You had to blink past the sting in your eyes, and swallow past another lump of emotion in your throat as you reached down to caress his cheek.

The hardest part of mine is watching you leave.

But you didn’t dare say that. You just guided him back up to your lips, and met him with a heated kiss.

You were nearly asleep when Russell finally came back to bed, after double-checking that the house was all locked up. He installed a more sophisticated security system a few months ago. It made him feel slightly better about leaving you alone.

He padded back over to the bed and joined you on his side. You rested your head on his shoulder again, and he slid an arm around your waist.

“Charlie’s doing well in his program, huh?” Russell asked.

You’d been talking about your brother with him and Dory at dinner.

You nodded. “Looks like it… God, I’m so proud of him. He’s really worked hard.”

Russell hummed deeply. “Glad to hear it.”

You glanced up at him, for a moment admiring his profile. He looked down and met your gaze.

“How long are you going to be home?” you asked, because you couldn’t stop yourself.

When you and Russell first started dating, he tried staying at a motel for a few weeks. You eventually invited him to just stay with you when he was in town. It made it easier to spend more time with him, since you worked a full-time schedule anyway. It was nice to come home to him, when he was here. After the surprise wore off, however, the fear always returned.

When is he leaving next?

“I don’t have another job lined up just yet,” Russell admitted. “Wanna take a couple weeks off, since this one lasted so long. I’m sorry about that.”

You were glad to hear it, so you nodded, but you had a feeling your true thoughts weren’t as well hidden as you intended. Russell searched your face.

“How’re you doing with all this?” he asked.

Your heart seized up, but you tried to play it off.

“What do you mean? We had some good food, good catching up on ‘90s movie magic, good making up for lost time,” you said playfully. You slid your leg across his lap. Russell welcomed you, drawing a hand up your thigh and under his shirt that once again hung loosely from your body. You had to reclaim it from somewhere between the sheets.

He still raised his brows at you. “You know what I mean.”

Slowly, your smile fell. Your gaze lowered.

“Russ, I’m doing my best.”

“I know you are, sweetheart, and I appreciate that. You don’t know how much,” he said, stroking your back. “I just, uh…I know this is hard on you.”

He understood Tracy, Doug’s wife, even better now. He had been better able to sympathize with Doug too, because for the first time in his life, he had someone to come home to. Someone who was actually waiting on him to come home. It was a bigger responsibility than he thought it would be.

You sighed.

“Look, I’m not going to lie, this…it’s been hard as hell,” you began, closing your hand around his. “But I love you. I love you, and I still think we have a good thing here.”

That warmed him, reminded him why this was worth it. Russell nodded in agreement, and he crossed the few inches of distance that allowed him to kiss you, good and slow.

“I love you too,” he admitted. He could count on half a hand the number of times that happened in his life, but even though it hadn’t been all that long…he thought you might be the one that finally stuck.

Your pretty smile was just one piece of evidence. You gave that to him, and you reached up for a kiss. He obliged you in turn.

“How about we put a timeframe on it then,” he said, after parting softly from you.

You tilted your head in confusion, tinged with disbelief. “What?”

“How about you give me…’til the end of the year,” he said. “I know I’ve been taking a lot of jobs lately. It’s because I’m pretty close to my goal. I’ve almost got enough to find some good real estate and start working on that bar.”

Your drowsiness fell away completely as your excitement grew for him.

“Oh my God. Russ, that’s amazing!”

Your support softened him that much more, deepening his smile. He framed your face with a hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“Here’s a promise,” he said. “Six months, and no more missions. No more jobs. You’ll be stuck with me, so much that you’ll probably get sick of me.”

Your smile grew to radiant proportions.

“Hmm, maybe a little,” you teased, “but I’ll make that sacrifice.”

He grinned and drew you into another kiss. You paused, holding his bearded cheek.

“Thank you,” you said. Russell shook his head.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he said. “You never gotta thank me for that.”

AN: Let me know if you enjoyed this little addition to ESC! 💜

Bonus Drabble:

After watching 2x02 yesterday, it gave me...feelings lol. So I ended up writing a new (very smutty) drabble to fill in a small gap in this one-shot! It's called More of This:

Summary: Welcoming Russell home, where he belongs. (18+)

▶️ Keep Reading: More of This

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stevieschrodinger · 4 months ago

Text

Part One TwentyThree

This Chapter is NSFW

Steve blinks awake; something woke him, some movement. Eddie. Eddie’s half flopped across Steve’s back where Steve’s laid on his stomach. He’s kissing his way across Steve’s shoulders, “twen-ty two,” he whispers haltingly to himself, then another soft kiss, “twe-n-ty three.”

Steve stretches, his shoulders still aching from finishing the pool yesterday. Eddie had helped a little, mostly holding the hose and washing down the sides. Even with Jon as an extra pair of hands it had still taken hours. Steve shifts, dislodging Eddie a little, “what you doing baby?”

“Winning.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “how do you mean?”

“Eddidie try more kisses,” he kisses Steve again, “twen-ty four.”

Steve rolls over, “I didn’t realize giving kisses was a competition.”

Eddie darts forward, kissing Steve on the cheek this time, but Steve manages to grab him and get him back, making Eddie giggle, “Eddidie twen-ty five. Stee One.”

“Oh you come here you cheater, I’m gonna’ win.”

Steve sighs as he hangs up the phone. Keith is a prick, and he’s always going to be a prick, who even works at nine in the morning on New Years day? Steve is certain that the store actually closes for New Years day and Keith has invented that shift just to torture Steve.

And he’s on the close on New Years eve which just...sucks. He sighs again. At least that one is with Robin. It’s like he wants to punish both of them.

“Okay Stee love?”

“I’m okay, but I’ve got to go back to work in a couple of days.”

Eddie frowns, “Eddidie work?”

“I...yeah. Maybe. When you’re ready yeah?”

Eddie looks a little sad, but he agrees, “Stee work time calendar?” Eddie goes off and gets a pen before Steve answers, and then waits, watching as Steve writes the shift times he has so far in the boxes on Eddie’s calendar.

Eddie squints at it, “called am p-m?” He says A M like the word, ‘am,’ and Steve knows he really needs to get onto those books Eddie got for Christmas.

“A.M is in the morning, and P.M is the afternoon. The night time.”

“Nine morning, nine night time?” Eddie asks, pointing.

“You got it baby…what do you want to do today?”

Eddie perks up immediately, “drive car?”

“I...yeah. You know what, fuck it, what’s Hopper going to do, arrest us?”

“Fuck it!” Eddie crows back, a massive grin on his face.

“Huh...I don’t know if I should tell you off or not. It feels like I should but that also feels dumb.”

“Feels dumb. Called arrest?”

“Oh it’s…so if Hopper finds someone who does something bad, he locks them away to keep everyone else safe?”

“Someone who...hurts people?” Eddie volunteers cautiously while they get their shoes on.

“Yeah. Yeah like that. It keeps everyone else safe, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, get your jacket.”

The ruins of Starcourt are pretty comprehensively taped and fenced off...but half the lot isn’t. Eddie eyes the ruin speculatively, “Eddidie in before?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s where you were when I found you.”

Eddie frowns, leaning over to touch Steve’s face delicately, around his eyes, the bridge of his nose,“Stee hurt.”

“I was, but that was ages ago now. I’m fine.”

Eddie accepts that, so Steve sits and explains to him what all the parts of the car do, how to put it in drive, and back into park, and then lets Eddie do it from the passenger seat. Then puts the seat all the way back, letting Eddie lean over to watch his feet, he shows him how to go and how to stop. He doesn’t bother with stuff like indicators yet, not wanting to over complicate things.

Eddie seems alright with all of it, and Steve figures he does trust Eddie; Eddie does pick shit up really really fast.

They swap seats, “okay, so, what do we do first?” Eddie reaches for the key where it hangs in the ignition, “ah ah,” Steve chides. “What’s first?”

Eddie thinks for a second before sheepishly clicking his belt on; Steve does the same, “now?”

“Sure baby, you can go now.”

Eddie starts the car, grinning big as it starts up. Steve watches as Eddie does the brake and carefully puts it in drive, “good?”

“Yeah, go on then, carefully though. Slow.”

“Carefully, slow.”

And Eddie does, the car inches forward, then picks up a little speed. Eddie’s leaning all the way forward in his seat, chest practically pressed against the wheel, both hands studiously at ten and two. They're probably doing all of a brisk walking speed, maybe a jog, but Eddie’s got a massive happy grin on his face. “Okay, turn then,” Eddie does, making random loops across the lot and then back again. “Okay, stop.” Eddie does, carefully shifting his feet. It jolts a little when they come to a full stop, Eddie pressing too sharply.

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay, put her in park.” Eddie does, “okay, good, go on then, go again.”

Eddie does, and they do go a little faster, Eddie slowly gaining confidence.

They stop a few times, Steve explaining about the mirrors and then sets Eddie the challenge of parking the car up between the white lines in the empty spaces.

They go until Eddie’s stomach rumbles audibly, Steve completely having lost track of time, “okay, time to go home.”

Eddie nods agreeably, “home.”

They’re laid on the couch together, Eddie’s holding open one of the kids books he got for Christmas, sounding out the letters and making out the words. He never ceases to amaze Steve with just how fast he picks this stuff up.

Steve helps occasionally, but Eddie seems to be able to, mostly, intuit how the words should sound by working through the letters. He keeps digging Steve with his elbow though, when he shifts to itch his stomach, keeps wriggling around, and it only seems to be getting worse.

“What are you scratching at?” Eddie puts the book down, pulling his shirt up so they can both see; part of Eddie’s stomach looks like it’s peeling, like bad sunburn. It only seems to have been made worse by Eddie’s itching, the skin pink and lined.

Steve hums, “lets go put some cream on that.”

Investigation only revels more patches of dry flaking skin, randomly all over Eddie’s body. Steve was there when Eddie got dressed this morning, so he’s one hundred percent certain that these weren’t here then. The more he looks the more he finds, they’re up Eddie’s back, and under Eddie’s bobble hat looks like the worse case of dandruff Steve’s ever seen.

“I hope you’re not allergic to something.”

“Called allergic?”

“It’s- I. I don’t even know how to explain this,” Steve sighs, “sometimes people...something doesn’t agree with them?” Eddie tilts his head, scratching absently at his thigh, Steve gently pulls his hand away, “don’t itch it. Okay...for some people, just very few, laundry powder makes their skin itchy. For no reason, it just...happens. Or some food. Maybe just one person can’t eat nuts, it’ll make them hurt.”

Eddie frowns, but nods, using his free hand to scratch at his back, so Steve grabs that hand, too.

“We should call Joyce, she might know what to do with the itching.” The cream doesn’t seem to be helping, it’s just making Eddie itchy and greasy at the same time.

“Call Joyce yes.”

“Hello?”

“Oh, hey, Will. Is Joyce home?”

“Sure yeah, just a minute. Can we come over to the store tomorrow? Mike said Nancy said Robin said you’re going back to work tomorrow morning?”

And Steve can hear Mike in his head, ‘and Steve’s at least good for his stupid staff discount,’ “Yeah, yeah sure-”

“Cool so we can come watch stuff tomorrow afternoon?”

“I-yeah,” Steve looks at where Eddie is using a door frame to scratch between his shoulder blades, rubbing back and forth aggressively, “yeah, maybe.”

“Cool, okay, see you tomorrow!”

There’s a moment of quiet, and then, “hello?”

“Oh, hi, Joyce. It’s, uhm...Eddie’s kind of, itchy? Like he’s suddenly peeling all over? Do you know what we could do?”

“Oh...well when the boys had had chicken pox I put them in the bath with some baking soda, that helped?”

“Okay, okay yeah, I’ll give that a go, I just don’t know why this is happening.”

“It does kind of make sense, new born babies peel.”

“They do?” Steve asks, slightly horrified.

“Yeah, yeah, usually happens sort of within the first week, I think. What was his first poop like?”

“I-” Steve stalls for a second, this conversation having just taken a really weird turn, “I don’t know, hang on,” Steve pulls the phone away from his ear, “Eddie?”

Eddie comes over, “Joyce says the peeling is normal, we can go have a bath in a minute, it might make it better, okay?”

“Together?” Eddie asks, and Steve can hear Joyce snickering down the phone, clearly having heard it.

Steve just ignores that whole thing, “what was your first poop like?”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, “green. Sticky.”

Really? Steve thinks, green? Steve puts the phone back to his ear, “did you hear that?”

“Yeah, that makes sense Steve, it all tracks. He’s just like a newborn.”

That is...not appealing, Steve can’t help but think.

Eddie’s skin sloughs off like something out of a horror movie. Once lubricated by the warm water, made to feel slick with the baking soda, it comes away in great curling pieces. Eddie picks at himself with his claw like nails, Steve leaning over the edge and getting all the little flakes with a loofah. Steve gets to Eddie’s feet, and Eddie giggles and tries to drag his foot away when Steve gets to the arch, thrashing in surprise.

“You’re ticklish!” Steve tells him, delighted.

“Not,” Eddie insists, almost immediately.

“Alright, so you won’t mind if I-” Steve pins his ankle in the water, using his other hand to tickle Eddie’s foot.

Eddie thrashes, water going everywhere, “stop. No. Stee, Stee, stop,” he can barely get the words out he’s laughing and thrashing so much, but Steve takes mercy on him and doesn’t do it for long.

Eddie’s still laughing after, trying to catch his breath, wriggling his toes and watching in amazement. Once he’s settled down, he reaches into the water, bending a knee to reach and tickle his own foot, then frowning when nothing happens, “Stee? Not ticklish.”

“Oh,” Steve says the picture of innocence, “let me try?”

Eddie nods, watching, and then instantly fighting again, laughing, Steve’s clothes are wet with splashed water, “Stee Stee noooooo,” Eddie wails, but when Steve stops again he’s grinning, all flush and breathless.

“Ticklish,” Steve tells him.

“Stee ticklish?”

“Nope,” Steve lies confidently, there is no way in hell he’s giving Eddie that one.

“Why ticklish time Stee touch, not ticklish time Eddidie touch?”

“I...you know I don’t actually know why you can’t tickle yourself. Just one of those things, I guess,” he says, shrugging, “right I think you’re all done, most of it’s gone, right?”

“Most of it’s gone, right.”

Eddie’s still flaking the last tiny bits as he dries off, but it seems to be pretty much done; Eddie drops his towel in the hamper, and pouts when Steve makes him put his hat in there too, “it’s covered in skin, we can do laundry and you’ll have it back, okay?”

“Okay. Bed now?”

“It’s too early for bed-” Eddie comes and stands in front of Steve, completely naked, pressing himself forward, holding Steve’s hips, “ohhhhh...bed now. Sure, yep, we can do that.”

Eddie grins, peeling Steve’s damp shirt up, Steve lifting his arms to help. Eddie drops it carelessly on the floor, going next for Steve's pants, pulling everything down in one go and letting it drop so that Steve can step out of it and kick it away. Steve takes Eddie by the hips and walks him back towards the bed.

Eddie goes easily, shuffling his way back, Steve crawling on after him to climb between Eddie’s parted legs, keeping his weight off Eddie and on his forearms, leaning down for more hungry kisses.

Steve feels it when Eddie’s dick slips out, the head nuzzling against Steve’s pubic hair as Steve’s own cock starts to firm up, to fill out. Eddie’s dick isn’t as intimidating now Steve knows it can’t bite him, those little nobbles are too small to do anything, and even when it was holding on as tight as it could to Steve’s thumb, during Eddie’s orgasm, it didn’t hurt at all.

Steve reaches down to adjust himself, pulling his hardening cock up to lie against the crease of Eddie’s hip, rather than being trapped pointing down. Eddie’s cock follows Steve’s fingers immediately, and Steve stops a second to pet it, stroking along the length before he goes back to resting on both arms, leaning in for more kisses.

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders, parting his legs naturally to accommodate Steve as he settles in, Eddie drawing his knees up a little. The position is close enough that it makes Steve think...makes him remember a thought he'd had from the first time, “can we try something?”

“Eddidie try,” Eddie replies easily.

“Okay, but I need to make you come first, alright?” Eddie nods, clearly very happy with that plan.

Steve hums, thinking. Eddie’s never had sex with anyone else; Eddie is, also, a creature from The Upside Down. Eddie bit Steve’s toes off and it never got infected, and they’ve also kissed and touched a lot and Steve’s never gotten sick, never shown any sign of catching anything. There doesn’t seem to be any possibility that Eddie might be a...carrier, of some sort of disease but...on the balance of probability, Steve figures better safe than sorry. Steve’s been with plenty of girls, but he’s always used protection, so he’s pretty sure that he’s clean but...what if he isn't, and he inadvertently gives something to Eddie? Steve has no idea what Eddie’s immune system might be like and...yeah. Eddie definitely can’t make an informed choice around all this, at least, not yet. So.

He leans over, shifting off Eddie a little to rummage in the top drawer, his fingers fiddling in the box until he manages to pull out a condom.

He leaves the wrapper there on the bed, in easy reach.

“Called?”

“Oh, it’s a condom. I’ll show you what it’s for in a bit, okay?”

Eddie nods, accepting that, before pulling Steve down for more kisses. Soft and sweet, with just a hint of Eddie’s only slightly too sharp teeth. They kiss, Steve taking his time, just enjoying the feeling of Eddie holding him. Eddie’s hands are just as curious as his mind, left to their own devices they roam every bit of Steve they can reach, flowing the dip of his spine and the curve of his ass. Groping and kneading at his shoulders, the tops of his arms. Buried in his hair, scratching gently and tugging lightly. Steve drinks it all in; can feel how much Eddie loves him, how intent every touch is. Like Eddie’s memorizing him.

Like every inch of Steve is precious.

Likewise Eddie’s cock is wriggling back and forward between them, burrowing it's way through the narrow space, the head rubbing against Steve’s hip and then nuzzling into his pubes; he feels it when the head opens, the flower petals pressing against Steve’s skin before moving on. He feels it when Eddie’s cock finds the base of his own, it seems to wriggle around it, the head pressing against one side and withdrawing, only to creep along the other. The petals open, grasping at the hard flesh at the base of Steve’s dick. He moans, rutting against the crease of Eddie’s thigh, Eddie’s dick following the movement, hanging on in a gentle clutch at Steve’s flesh.

Eddie likes it too, if the huffing, breathy little sighs he’s letting out are anything to go by, so Steve doesn’t stop. He lifts enough to look down between their bodies, and Eddie does the same. The black flower petals are a stark contrast against the skin of Steve’s cock; they’ve latched to the side, near the base, and a thick drip of precome stretches a connection between the head of Steve’s cock and the skin of Eddie’s hip.

Eddie starts wriggling, hips lifting, “Stee. Please more? Eddidie come.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve lets his hips rest against the cradle of Eddie’s again, keeping his weight on his forearms he leans in for kisses that Eddie returns eagerly, matching the movements of Steve’s hips with an enthusiastic slide of his own, Steve’s cock slippery wet now with precome, “you close to coming baby?”

Eddie frowns, head tilted back, letting Steve kiss and nip at his throat, “yes no.”

“Okay,” and Steve can’t keep doing this for that much longer, otherwise he’s going to come and that’ll be the end of his idea, “want me to touch you?”

“Yes. Touch good.”

“Okay,” Steve pulls off completely then, letting himself tilt to the side. Eddie’s dick looks like it’s stretched to the absolute limit, clearly not wanting to let go of Steve. Steve reached down, distracting it with the touch of fingers; it goes eagerly. Once Eddie’s dick has let go, Steve rolls the rest of the way to lie on his hip, the same as last time, snugged up against Eddie’s side. He takes Eddie’s eager cock in hand more naturally this time, more sure of what he’s doing.

He kisses Eddie’s cheek, and Eddie turns into it. He’s clearly distracted, his kisses sloppier now, wetter, half the time his mouth hanging open as he pants and moans quietly, Steve’s thumb working circles across the open head of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie whimpers, “okay?”

Eddie shakes his head, frowning, “not-not coming.” He squirms, face crinkled up in frustration and, possibly, discomfort, so Steve stops but Eddie immediately says, “no. More touch,” so Steve starts up the gentle movements of his thumb. Eddie’s hips squirm more, his cock pulsing and twitching, almost bucking in Steve’s hand; he’s so close, Steve knows he is, there’s just something stopping him.

Eddie needs more, and Steve doesn’t know what to do for him; it’s not like Eddie has nipples he can play with, “baby, what do you need?”

“Rough,” Eddie says suddenly, and oh, Steve gets that, maybe his thumbs tugging a little. He sits up, leaning over same as before, letting his mouth fill with spit. He pins Eddie’s cock still, but it’s wriggling so much that only half of it lands on target, the rest spattering on the webbing between Steve’s finger and thumb.

Steve doesn’t have chance to even get his thumb back in place, that’s enough, Eddie’s hips bucking as he cries out, the loudest noise he’s made so far. The flower petals half close, then open a little, doing a weird little celebratory Mexican wave type thing as Eddie’s back arches sharply, and his right leg twitches violently.

Steve just rides it out, letting Eddie’s body lift his own as Eddie’s hips roll again and again. Eventually it passes and Eddie settles, “okay baby?”

Eddie hums, his cheeks flush and his brown eyes bright, “perfect okay.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “all done?”

Eddie nods, then sighs with contentment, “inied.”

“Good,” Steve lets his cock go, it’s almost funny how it sort of lays down, like a little drunk dude just lying right there on the floor. “Still up for trying something?”

Eddie nods.

“Okay,” Steve clambers up, sitting on his knees next to Eddie, he opens the condom and then, pinching the end, carefully rolls it down to the base of his own cock.

“Why?” Eddie asks, watching with interest now.

“Oh it...well. If you were a girl, it would stop you getting pregnant.”

“Called preg-nant?” Eddie sounds the word out slowly.

“Yeah,” Steve pats his own stomach, trying to word it how Eddie might understand, “planting a baby.”

“Eddidie baby,” Eddie points out.

“Yeah, yeah I know, but I mean baby like...tadpole.”

Eddie sits up then, “tell Eddidie many many baby! Baby called tadpole! Eddidie not kid!”

Steve rubs his face, “oh man,” Steve gets Eddie by the shoulders, but he can’t help but smile, “baby is because...I love you, okay? I know you’re not a tadpole. I know you’re not a kid, okay, it’s just...someone special. Someone important. I love you, okay?”

“Okay,” but Eddie doesn’t look like he’s buying it, at all. And Steve’s sitting here with a throbbingly hard dick and it’s not exactly the conversation he wants to be having right this second.

“Okay, moles? Remember how moles are little animals but moles are also this,” Steve points to his neck, Eddie nods, “two different...but it’s the same word, yeah?”

Eddie’s face lights with understanding, and Steve knows he’s won, “okay, yeah. Eddidie baby.”

“Okay...so how do you feel about me putting my dick in you?” Steve shuffles between Eddie’s legs, his hard cock pointing the way to exactly where he wants to be.

“In? Wet?” Eddie questions. He reaches down to indicate what he means, he uses two fingers, his black oval shaped nails part his glistening wet slit in what is, unintentionally, possibly one of the most erotic things Steve’s ever seen. From where he’s kneeling between Eddie’s spread thighs, he gets a good look at just how wet and pink Eddie is inside, flooded with clear, jello like come.

Steve cock twitches, remembering just how tight it was on his finger, he tries to speak and fails, needing to clear his throat, “yeah, in. Do you want to try?”

Eddie nods, lying back and bending his knees more, letting his thighs fall further apart, the mouth of the slit slick and gaping.

Steve takes a deep breath, letting himself sink forward and down, he takes his weight on one hand where he hovers over Eddie. Using his other hand to guide the head of his dick, notching it at the opening of Eddie’s body.

Eddie's hand flies to Steve’s shoulder, gripping hard, so Steve stops, his eyes dragging, with great difficulty, away from where the rounded head of his condom covered dick is just breaching Eddie, “okay?”

Eddie frowns a little, looking worried, “slowly? Carefully?”

“I-yeah, of course. Eddie we don’t have to do this-”

“Eddidie try,” Eddie insists, “Eddidie tell no.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Eddidie tell no,” he says again, “it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, but you’ll tell me if it does hurt?”

Eddie nods, “Eddidie tell ow.”

“Okay,” Steve looks back down to what he’s doing, allowing himself to slide forward just the most fraction of an inch.

Almost immediately Eddie says, “ow.”

Steve freezes, looking back up. “It doesn’t hurt,” Eddie says innocently.

Steve can tell Eddie’s trying, and failing, to hide a grin, “you’re such a little shit.”

Eddie does laugh then, “little shit. Okay, Steve in now. Promise okay now.”

Steve shakes his head, taking a deep breath, he sinks in. Eddie’s channel is narrow, and it grips the sides of Steve’s cock beautifully. Eddie’s come is so thick and wet it slicks the way, and Eddie is just so fucking warm inside. It’s bliss.

He’s so wet inside that when Steve bottoms out, there’s an obscenely wet squelching noise, and Steve can feel the thick gloop of it dripping out and seeping onto his balls, forced out of Eddie’s body by Steve’s cock. “How does that feel? Okay?”

Eddie opens his mouth, closes it again, like he often does when he’s searching his limited vocabulary. He presses a hand to his stomach, lifting it a little to indicate being bloated or...“after Christmas food.”

“Full.”

Eddie nods, “full,” he shifts then, experimentally rolling his hips, and Steve can’t help but moan at the sucking drag of Eddie’s hole on Steve cock. “Good?”

“So good. You’re so so good for me baby, can I move?”

“Go, yes.”

Steve keeps his weight up off of Eddie, mostly because he wants to watch. When he pulls his cock back out, it’s shiny wet, clumps of Eddie’s slick clinging to the condom like slithers of jello. Steve, cautiously, slides all the way back in.

Eddie sighs, lifting one leg to rest his calf on Steve’s back, changing the angle a little so that Steve’s cock is guided now by the bottom of Eddie’s channel, he’s gripped tight on three sides, and it’s not like anything Steve’s ever felt before.

He already knows this is going to be a short show, but he’s pretty sure Eddie said he can’t come like this anyway, so hopefully he doesn’t mind. The glide is so slick Steve rocks in and out easily, his skin warming, the space between them becoming clammy. Steve can distinctly feel that crease of flesh, the pucker he’d found, dragging up and down the underside of his cock with every thrust.

Eddie holds him tight, one hand gripping Steve’s side, the other on his shoulder before it migrates into Steve’s hair when he leans down to kiss Eddie.

His balls are tight and wet with slick where they're nudging up against Eddie's body, and he’s so close already, he just needs his mouth on Eddie, needs Eddie’s tongue in his mouth when he chokes out a groan, “gonna’ come baby,” against Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie’s eyes are alert and bright, watching with interest. He makes little huffing noises when Steve goes particularly deep but otherwise he’s not showing much sign of actually getting off on this, “yes. Come in Eddidie.”

Steve does, his cock twitching as he grinds up tight to Eddie, filling the condom with sticky mess. He’s a little out of breath as he comes down, panting where his face is buried in the crook of Eddie’s neck; Eddie rubbing his back lovingly, “good Stee?”

“Yeah. Yeah so good baby, thank you.”

“Get cleaned up?”

Steve laughs a little, then forces himself to move, reaching between them to grip the condom at the base so he can pull out. Eddie makes a little chirrup of a noise when Steve’s clear of him, a little shiver running the length of his body and then he stretches luxuriously, arms above his head, wriggling his toes, a picture of contentment. All of his crotch is shiny wet, and as Steve watches his dick sort of rolls over and then slowly withdraws.

Steve pulls off the condom and ties it, Eddie watching with interest, then wrinkling his nose when he sees what’s inside, “taste bad.”

“Well I’ve never had any complaints before.”

Eddie trails after Steve into the bathroom, watching as he ditches the condom in the trash, “called complaints?”

“Uhm...no one else, other people, non of them said it tastes bad.”

Steve’s got the shower going, and when he turns, Eddie’s frown is nuclear, his hands on his hips in a determined Steve pose, “other people,” he repeats icily.

“Oh boy.”

Steve sighs. He’s been back to work for, he checks the clock for about the hundredth time, nearly two hours, and he’s already had enough. He’s almost looking forward to the kids showing up. Not that it isn’t nice to finally spend some time with Robin but...he kind of misses Eddie. It’s probably like, the honey moon stage, or whatever, the first shiny new part of a relationship when all you want it them but...still.

When the phone rings, Robin calls, “I’m not getting that.”

Steve sighs, leaving his stack of returns and leaning over the counter to scrabble for the phone, “hello, Family Video, how can I help-”

“Stee love.”

“Eddie? How did you- never mind, you okay?”

“No. Eddidie ow. Hurt.”

“Okay, I’m coming home, not long.” Steve hangs up, “Robs! I just got to go home a second, that okay?”

“Oh no,” she says from where she’s rolling back and forth on the office chair, waiting for a tape to rewind, “whatever will I do in the face of this horde of customers,” there’s currently one dude in the store, “I shall never cope with-”

“Yeah yeah, back soon.”

Steve doesn’t break any traffic laws on the way home, but he probably pushes it. Eddie’s on the couch when Steve gets in, looking alert and watching for Steve, “you okay?”

“Eddidie hurt,” he says, looking sad suddenly.

“Okay, show me.”

And Eddie stalls. Just for a moment, but long enough for Steve to catch it, before he, vaguely, indicates his tummy.

Steve suddenly has an inkling as to what’s going on here, but he comes to sit next to Eddie anyway, resting a gentle hand on his tummy, “hows that.”

Eddie nods, “good. TV?”

“Oh no. If you’re sick, then no TV. We just have to sit quiet.”

“Dinner food?”

“Definitely not. No. Here, lie down.”

Eddie does, but with a frown on his face, “Stee Eddidie out in car?”

“Nope.”

Eddie’s pout has achieved spectacular levels, “why?”

“Because you’re sick.”

It seems to dawn on Eddie that he has been completely caught out in his lie. Steve watches it happen, the emotions slowly play out. Eddie looks like he’s going through the stages of grief or something.

“How did you get works number? To call me?”

“One book,” it sounds like ‘own book.’

Steve hums, “how did you know which number it was?”

Eddie points to Steve’s vest, where it clearly says ‘Family Video’ over the little breast pocket.

“You’re so fucking clever. But I have to go back to work. You’re fine, aren’t you?” Eddie pouts, “you must never tell lies.”

“Called lie?” Eddie asks, shame faced now, plucking at his sleeve.

“Not true.” Steve tugs at his vest, “this is green. True. This is blue. Lie. Eddie is fine, true. Eddie has an ow, lie. We never tell lies.”

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles.

“It’s okay,” Steve bends down to kiss Eddie on the cheek, “I’ll be back around nine, okay?”

“Steve, you want anything else?”

“No thanks Joyce that was amazing. Here, let me help with dishes, you should sit.”

“No, you’re a guest-”

“Let the kid help-” Hopper starts.

“Because it gets you out of it,” Joyce huffs, but it’s fond, and she leans over and kisses Hop on the cheek.

When Steve gets back, Eddie is sitting on the couch with El, one leg pulled up, his fingers locked together over his shin, “Steve,” she says.

Eddie leans forward, a look of great concentration on his face, “Ste-eee,” he says, but it comes out wobbling and uncertain.

“No, it’s got a ‘v’ in it,” and she makes the ‘v’ sound again, “so, Stee-ve,”

“Vee?” El nods, “Ste-vie?”

Steve’s heart flutters in his chest. Watching them, he feels a strange sense of happiness for Eddie, but also melancholy; he knows he’s about to loose, ‘Stee’. It was inevitable, he knows, Eddie’s getting better at speaking all the time. This was always going to happen.

“Almost, Steve,” she stresses the second part of Steve’s name.

“Steee-vie?” Eddie frowns, looking a bit frustrated that his mouth isn’t cooperating.

“I like Stevie,” Steve says, heading over to them.

Eddie nods, “Ste-vie,” he says proudly, “Stevie love?”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve wedges himself between Eddie and the arm of the couch, then Jon files in and sits on the floor, making room as the coffee table gets shifted. Joyce

Hopper and Mike squeeze onto the other couch, “here kid,” Hopper passes an envelope across.

Out of it fall a drivers license, a passport, a birth certificate. Steve is caught for a second looking at the little picture of Eddie in his wig, and he guesses it works well enough. You have to really squint at the little picture to figure anything is up with it, and even then Steve figures he knows so he's looking for it, and the picture is obviously Eddie. He reads the details on the license, “Edwin!” He says, suddenly outraged, “Munson?! Hopper what the-”

“It’s what it said on the paper!”

“It did not say ‘Edwin’-”

“Eddie is not anyone's name kid, Eddie is always short for something else-”

“Edwin though?!”

“It was the first thing that popped into my head-”

Steve feels Eddie take the stack of papers out of his hands to inspect them, “and Munson? It said Mon-son! With an ‘O’!”

“It did not!” Hopper digs around in his pocket for the scrap of paper Steve had handed him along with the photos, “here, Munson.”

“That’s an ‘O’!”

“Well it looks like a ‘U’!”

“Stevie,” Eddie says carefully, “Stevie love, drive car again now?”

Steve looks over, Eddie’s carefully turning the pages of his new passport, inspecting his license, reading his birth certificate, like all of it is the most precious things he’s ever seen, “yeah,” Steve sighs. “Yeah, yeah of course.” Eddie beams at him.

Hoppers eyebrows are practically in his hair, “what does he mean, ‘again’?”

Part twentyfive

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #ao3 author #mermeddie #mermaid eddie #upside down creature eddie #Fish Guy Eddie #creature eddie munson #creature

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vanishingstarrs · 7 months ago

Text

twenty something ( k. bakugo x reader, established relationship, just soft and pure vibes, down bad bakugo ) ( it was my bday on friday and i wanted to write something short and sweet, self indulgent for sure )

You didn’t care for birthdays.

You had never made a huge fuss over your own, anyway.

The last birthday party you remember having was back when you were still obsessed with fairy princesses and only spoke in broken sentences, likely only five.

Since then, it had really only ever been small dinners and hardly any presents. Your family never really had the means to do anything huge and you told yourself you never minded, that all you ever cared for was the acknowledgment of the day. And that was never skipped or glanced over, there was never a lack of love and you always felt grateful for another year.

It was true, you did feel that way and after the war those feelings only grew. You were more appreciative than ever, even more so for all the new friends and loved ones in your life.

Your boyfriend, Katsuki, especially.

And though you weren’t expecting anything, your boyfriend had other ideas. He’d come over the night before to make you dinner and give you a few gifts he’d gotten you. You swooned over his attention to detail, he cooked your favorite meal and got you things he knew you’d love.

“Katsuki…”

“I know.” He sighed,“You might not wanna accept it, I know how you are, you think it’s too much, but I’m not returning it.”

He stood up, walking behind you and pulling the intricately detailed locket from the box you had just opened, he unclasped it and moved your hair aside to secure it onto your neck,“Open it.”

You listened, opening the locket and feeling your heart swell.

Your boyfriend had not only gone through the trouble to get both your initials engraved on the back of the necklace, but he’d already gone ahead and selected two of your favorite pictures. One was just your favorite photo of him and the second was one of you two together from the first date you’d gone on together. It’d taken you so long to convince him to take that picture with you and as a result was now one of your favorites.

“Thank you, my love.” You looked up and kissed his cheek,“I love it very much.”

“Just thought you should have something, just in case…”

You gave him a look,“We don’t think like that, love, but I appreciate the sentiment you were going for and I’ll cherish it, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” He gave you a small smile,“Alright, you can open the rest, this was the only major one, don’t worry.”

You smiled and shared another kiss before proceeding to go through the rest of the gifts he’d gotten you. You worked in the hospital and he’d gotten a few things that would be useful; a few cute pens, a new pair of comfy shoes you’d been wanting to try out since your feet were always killing you, and a brand new water bottle (your last one got crushed after you accidentally ran it over with your car) and with it he’d also gotten tons of adorable stickers to decorate it.

You smiled big when you pulled a Hello Kitty plush out of the next bag and he rolled his eyes like he hadn’t been the one to purchase it.

“Don’t think I’m feeding your addiction to that weird ass cat.” He scoffed,“Just thought this one was actually kind of cool.”

Cool was an understatement.

Hello Kitty was known for lots of collabs with many of your favorite shows and characters, but this one? This plush was dressed in your boyfriend’s hero costume and the tag on it had his hero agency’s name on it so it was definitely official and not just some knock off.

“Didn’t even know they made these.” He explained,“Don’t remember approving that shit.”

You blushed,“I might’ve seen the papers on your desk one day and signed for you…”

“What?!” He stood up, shocked.

You shrugged,“I didn’t know they were actually going to go through with it, Sanrio teases lots of collabs so when I never saw it in stores I just guessed they went a different route.”

“When were you even in my office?” He asked, curious instead of upset.

“About a month ago, baby, remember? You were asked to patrol last minute because Eijiro’s wife went into labor and we had planned to have lunch together so I ended up dropping off food just in case you got a chance to stop and eat. I think your assistant, what’s his name, dropped off the papers and since I saw the logo on it… and well, I couldn’t help peeking.” You told him the story, feeling slightly guilty.

He rolled his eyes,“You’re lucky I don’t give a shit about that kinda stuff, otherwise I’d—”

You gasped suddenly,“Oh. My. God! Baby, what if they ask you to do a photo shoot with Hello Kitty, herself?! Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

Your boyfriend couldn’t help chuckle at your excitement,“I suppose it would be, a little bit, and I promise if that happens you’ll be on set with me that day, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” You gave him a big kiss and he handed you one final bag.

“Last one.” He said.

You rose an eyebrow at him as you peeked inside,“A dress? Do we have an occasion?”

“Only the best day of the year.” Katsuki took your hand and pulled you up to give you a hug,“I wanted to celebrate with you today because I’m a selfish bastard and I like having you to myself.” You felt him check his watch,“It’s officially midnight and officially your birthday.”

He pulled away slightly, holding your waist with one arm and placing his other hand on your cheek, making you immediately lean into the warmth of his touch. The kiss he gave you was gentle and full of so much love, you already knew this was your favorite of all birthdays just for the fact that you were spending it with him.

You opened your eyes and his gaze gave you butterflies, you felt like you did on your first date.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

“Thank you, Katsuki.” Your cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much.

“And I lied.” He said,“I do have one more thing for you, but it won’t be until later. We’ll sleep soon, and I’ll have a few more things to take care of before it, but I’d like you to take my card—”

“Baby, no…” You began to deny, he’d already gotten you enough.

“Yes.” He insisted,“You have a dress, all you need to do is find some accessories. Get some shoes, buy a new purse, hell buy yourself the whole store, baby, go fucking crazy. I’m asking nicely, and I’ll make sure you get something, trust me. And I want you ready by three, got it?”

You knew arguing with your boyfriend was pointless, that was one bad thing about the both of you, you were equally stubborn and fighting only ended when you got tired of it.

“Fine.” You relented.

True to his word, you went to bed soon after the gifts. Your boyfriend brought an overnight bag and you were happy to have him hold you in bed. When you woke up, however, his side of the bed was empty and in its place lay a birthday card.

You picked it up, smiling at the design he’d gone with and pictured him standing in front of the display for a long time before deciding. You opened it and out fell your boyfriend’s credit card, you rolled your eyes and set it aside to read the contents of the note.

Happy birthday, my pretty girl. I know you’re new to celebrating, but I plan to change that soon. You deserve the world and more, I’ll do my best to make sure you get it.

P.S. Please enjoy this breakfast (see nightstand) and be dressed by 9. Mina will be stopping by to ensure you shop for all your needs.

P.P.S. I love you.

You quickly turned and found the aforementioned breakfast, a cup of hot coffee, and a beautiful bouquet of tulips decorated your nightstand. You smiled and snapped a photo, sending it to your boyfriend along with a thank you.

He must’ve just left to take care of whatever he was planning.

You tried not to think about it or your nerves and overthinking would definitely kick in. You ate your food and sipped your coffee in bed while checking and responding to any birthday messages, picking up immediately when you saw your parents calling. You almost teared up when they started singing happy birthday and laughed along with them, asking if you’ll see them later in the week for your annual dinner. They agreed and you finished the call with ‘I love you’s’.

By the time nine rolled around, you were ready and right on time was Mina’s knocking on your door. You opened it and got greeted with a hug.

“I heard free shopping trip and here I am!” She cheered,“Ready to do some damage?”

“Not quite.” You blushed,“What do you know about his plans?”

She shrugged,“Sworn to secrecy, dude, sorry.”

You scoffed and laughed as you said,“Whatever happened to chicks before dicks?”

You’d met Mina as a result of dating Katsuki and ever since then you’d hit it off with her as much as you had your boyfriend, you never really had too many close girlfriends and she was a very welcome surprise into your life.

“Doing this for my chick.” She elbowed you teasingly,“So grab ya bag, girl, we have places to be and money to spend!”

You listened, grabbing your purse and reluctantly taking your boyfriend’s card as per his request.

It didn’t take long for Mina to decide which stores you should head into. It did, however, take more than a few for you to actually want to buy anything. It wasn’t that you didn’t see things you liked, but it was hard for you to accept your boyfriend was paying for you.

You’d been brought up to be independent and though you knew the importance of being taken care of, it was hard not being the giver for once.

A pair of shoes eventually caught your eye and Mina caught on quick, calling over an associate with a mischievous smile,“My friend would love to see these in a size seven, please.”

“Right away, miss.”

The woman left to find them and you sighed,“I don’t know, Mina.”

“Girl, please, your man literally is begging you to spend some of his money and you’re hesitating? These shoes are to die for and he explicitly stated you should get some to match your dress. We already got a few cute pieces of jewelry, I think these would match perfectly to those.”

In the end, Mina convinced you. Or the saleswoman did, when she revealed the shoes you were trying on would actually go on sale next week and that she’d be happy to adjust the price for your special occasion.

For once, you’d been happy to reveal it was your birthday and you walked away even happier with your bargain made.

“That was so nice of her.” You beamed as you followed Mina around a purse store she liked.

You definitely didn’t need one of those, but your eyes wandered aimlessly to pass the time.

“Mhm.” She agreed before holding up a bag,“And how hot is this bag?! C’mon, Bakugo would want you to have this.”

You regretted turning around as you actually really liked the one she’d been trying to show you,“Nope, got a bag, but thanks.”

“And you have shoes and jewelry, babe, the whole point of this trip was to treat yourself.” Your friend countered. She was right and you hated it.

You sighed,“I know, but I bought stuff already…”

“A few inexpensive sterling silver rings off that lady’s booth outside and a pair of shoes marked way down from the original price, this would be an actual treat.”

“Yes, but… I mean he already got me this nice necklace and the dress and all the other little things, plus he’s planning who knows what, I don’t think I need a new purse, mine may not be designer but it’s held up and it’ll be fine for a while longer.” You explained.

“He has the means to,” Mina walked up to you and pulled your current bag off your shoulder to replace with the one she was trying to convince you on,“Plus no one ever needs a new purse, it’s a want and it’s okay to have those, you know.”

You remembered the birthday card. You deserve the world and more…

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you sighed. Mina walked up behind you and wrapped her arms around you, smiling and raising her eyebrows,“So…? Whatcha gonna do?”

She drove a hard bargain.

“You need to consider you might be in the wrong field.” You pushed her playfully as she looped her arm through yours and led the way to the cash register. Your heart might have actually broken while swiping your boyfriend’s card across and your fingers were definitely shaking as you typed in the pin for it.

You knew your boyfriend received alerts for any purchases, especially big ones, and you were just about ready to turn back around when you heard your phone ping, assuming the worst. He had to be pissed at that one.

k (ृ ु*`ω´)ु: Glad to see Mina’s doing her job, don’t you dare feel guilty. You deserve this and more. 🧡

You looked up to find Mina glancing at you and smiling,“Told ya.”

The last purchase you made was with your own money as you’d run out of your favorite blush and needed to replace it. You enjoyed lunch with your friend and she drove you back home where she proceeded to stake claim on your bedroom floor to get herself ready with you.

“You’re really not gonna tell me?” You asked your friend as you applied a light layer of foundation.

“I’m sure you could guess…” Mina shrugged as she curled her eyelashes,“But I really can’t say, all he told me was to take you shopping and keep you busy until three. He’s having a car pick us up.”

“You don’t even know?!” You turned around, shock written all over your face.

Mina snorted,“No, I’m trolling you, I totally know.”

“Ugh.”

You got ready in silence, save for some music Mina decided to play from a small portable speaker she brought with her.

Once the clock hit three, you were officially an anxious wreck. Your phone pinged.

k (ृ ु*`ω´)ु: Your carriage awaits.

You made sure Mina was ready and that you weren’t forgetting anything before heading out, finding your “carriage” was your boyfriend’s car and he stood by the passenger door, holding the door open for you with a lazy smile. He was wearing nice clothes too and your eyes stuck to him like glue,“Wow.”

“Wow yourself.” He gave you a quick kiss, careful not to smudge your lipstick.

Mina fake gagged,“You two are disgusting.”

“Shut up and get in.” Katsuki told her before turning back to you, eyes soft,“You ready?”

You released a deep breath,“I guess so… I mean what am I even ready for?”

He smiled,“Don’t stress, just go with it. You’re about to find out anyway.”

It was hard not to, and you were sure your palms were sweating more than his as Katsuki always held your hand while driving.

You were quick to recognize the drive back to his house and relaxed a little bit, deciding he was right. Enough was enough, why not just go with it? You had amazing friends and an even better boyfriend, you deserved to get treated nicely. And he would never plan anything you weren’t ready for or wouldn’t like, as proven by the night before and the morning of shopping.

You didn’t see any cars or anything parked outside his house and you narrowed your eyes at him,“What’s going on? Seriously.”

He said nothing as he got out and opened your door for you, extending a hand out and helping you out of the car in your fancy new clothes and accessories. “Close your eyes.”

“For?”

“Please.”

Mina nudged you from behind and you obliged quickly.

He held your hand and led you with one hand on your lower back as you dutifully kept your eyes closed, you heard the jingling of keys and figured Mina must be unlocking the door for you.

“Watch your step.” Katsuki warned you and you felt him help you regardless as you stepped into his house.

Not one second of warning was given before it happened.

“Surprise!”

You opened your eyes immediately, hands going up to your mouth as you found your entire group of friends in your boyfriend’s living room, wearing party hats and blowing noisemakers. Streamers and balloons littered the room and a cake with your name on it sat on a designated dessert table. You almost cried when you spotted your parents and two brothers in one section.

“Happy birthday, baby.” Katsuki whispered in your ear before you were tackled by your family first, then your friends, and even some of your work family had shown up to wish you another happy year.

You felt a little overwhelmed at first, but slowly you relaxed. It hit you how happy you were, how much joy had been brought on by everything your boyfriend had done. You hadn’t experienced this type of celebration in a long time and it was nice to be seen by those who you held dear. Your boyfriend hardly left your side as you spoke and got around to saying hi to everyone. “Don’t let him go.” Your mother even whispered into your hair as she hugged you tight and gave you kisses,“Good ones are hard to come by.”

“He’s the best.” You agreed with a huge smile.

You eventually split up as you spoke with a few of your friends and even some of his, happy to catch up with Kirishima’s wife.

You held her son and spouted baby nonsense to him as she spoke your ear off about how her husband and Katsuki had been thick as thieves planning the day months in advance, and how she’d even been roped into calling people and checking on their availability. You thanked her for being part of it and looked up to where the two men now stood away, somehow still looking mischievous. You didn’t doubt they might even already be planning the next thing.

The night went by in the blink of an eye.

You saw friends you hadn’t seen in a while, learned the hard truth of standing awkwardly in front of a cake while everyone sang happy birthday to you, ate amazing food and cake, had a couple drinks, and lastly opened a few more gifts from those who had brought one. (You may or may not have received a few more Dynamite x Hello Kitty collab items).

Katsuki held you from behind as you watched your and his friends mingle together,“Did I do a good job?”

“I don’t know how I’ll top it for yours.” You said back, turning around in his arms, placing yours around his neck,“You did amazingly, I never thought I would have this one day.”

“For the rest of your life, I promise you will.”

You didn’t know why, but it felt much heavier when he said that. Like he wasn’t just promising you a lifetime of birthday parties, but like he was promising something else. You thought back to the way he smirked at you across the room when you saw him talking to Kirishima and your heart skipped again. There was no way. You’d only been together for a little over a year…

And yet…

Nah.

You pushed those thoughts away and allowed yourself to be happy in the now.

In his arms.

You kissed him,“I love you.”

You really couldn’t have asked for a better day, surrounded by the people who loved you— or for a better boyfriend, who made you feel seen in both little and big ways. Who went out of his way to ensure you were always happy and loved. You might just have a new favorite day of the year and it was all thanks to him.

“Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

Yup, you officially loved birthdays.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #i love him your honor #ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ #vanishingstarrs

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canthelpit0 · 7 months ago

Text

Silent

Pairing: Matt x reader

Wordcount: 1.8k +

Summary: you’ve always quietly watched the triplets, silently wishing you could be a part of a group like them. Until you and Matt talk for the first time…

Warnings: selective mutism, anxiety, crying, angst, praise, no use of y/n, no oc

(Disclaimer: I’m not mute in any way. This was a request from an anon that I accidentally deleted. Hope you like it ! Requests are open)

I developed selective mutism pretty early on. My mom says that I didn’t talk even back in kindergarten.

But it’s been years now.

I can talk, and I can’t shut the fuck up for the life of me. I talk a lot, even have full conversations with myself.

Just not at school, or around new people. God, especially not in school.

It’s not like I want to be the ‘ weird’ mute kid. I would love to talk and make friends, I just physically can’t open my mouth and talk.

It even took months for me to utter simple words to my therapist, tho by this point I’ve known her for years and I’m pretty comfortable.

There are these triplets in my grade. We’ve always gone to the same school, but I don’t think they ever noticed me.

Well the first time I noticed them was in first grade, because there were three of them. Of corse my six year old self didn’t understand the concept of multiples back then, and I really wanted to ask, and talk to them. I really thought they were cool.

The first time I interacted with any of them tho was when I was in fourth grade and Nick had asked to use my dark green pencil since he only had light green and needed both dark and light.

Back in fourth grade I wasn’t just selectively mute, but also really shy. So I’d just looked down and stared at the desk giving him a small nod.

In freshmen year I shared a class with Nick again, he asked me for a pen, wich I gave to him.

Despite not having talked to him once in my entire life, he remembered my name. Wich isn’t too shocking since we’ve always been around each other, I was just kinda in the shadows.

He actually gave me that pen back. Most other people would’ve forgotten and just taken it, but Nick didn’t and I appreciated that.

I only ever interacted with Nick those two times. despite sharing a few classes with both Chris and Matt over the years, I’ve probably never even held eye contact with either of them.

I’ve been watching everyone.

Bullying isn’t really a thing. Sure there were some hurtful comments by jocks here and there but it really wasn’t as bad as in the movies.

Besides I think most people forget i even exist so they don’t even bother bullying me.

I’ve had my eye on Matt for a while. Not in a weird way. But Matt seems to pretty obviously have anxiety too. I don’t know if he’s open about it, I’m not in his friend circle.

But every time I’m feeling overwhelmed and we’re in the same room, I unconsciously glance at him to see if he feels the same or if I’m just going crazy.

Chris seems to be the loudest and most extroverted one. And while yes, Nick seems pretty extroverted too, Chris seems more… random? Bold?

I sulk in the back of the class my lips pulled into a tight line as I try to get myself together.

There is literally no reason for me to be feeling like this. Honestly no one has tried to talk to me today, nothing happened, I just feel so overwhelmed.

I raise my hand just slightly. I make eye contact with the teacher. Mrs. Evans. I literally love her, she’s so kind.

Her son is apparently mute too.

When I was diagnosed with selective mutism they thought it’d be a great idea to make me learn sign language just in case, and that’s just what I did.

Since Mrs. Evans son is mute, her son, as well as her and her husband also learned sign language.

So whenever I needed something I could sign to her. Not that I wouldn’t be too embarrassed too.

Our eyes lock. Everyone was working on some paper I should also be doing, but I’m too busy hyperventilating.

I let my hand drop on my desk and glance at the door quietly asking if I can go to the nurses office since I was too tired and ashamed to sign it to her.

She gives me a pitying smile but nods. I hate pity, but then again that’s better than getting told im faking.

I look around the class of students. I get up, as quiet as I can. I pack up my little stuff and quietly walk to the front of the class. I nod in appreciation and walk outside.

I stare at the ground while I walk down the hallway. I sigh.

I feel my eyes start to water and I bite the inside of my cheek.

Honestly I should probably go to the nurses office to get checked out, just so I can leave. But I don’t think I can handle communicating with another human.

I feel like I’m about to break down. I continue to walk down the hallway clutching the straps of my bag harshly.

I consider if driving home even is a good idea seeing as I’m about to have a mental breakdown. Or-

Suddenly I bump into someone.

I close my eyes trying not to cry right then. I don’t know who I bumped into but I want to apologize, but I know that I can’t, and since I don’t know who I bumped into I don’t know if it’s someone who’ll be mean about it or-

I’m taken off guard by a gentle brush to my upper arm.

“You’re good, it’s okay” I hear a soft voice say. I can feel my lip quivering, I feel like if I open my eyes the tears brimming at my waterline will actually fall.

“can you open your eyes?” It sounds more like a question, and that voice sounds painfully familiar but I can’t quite place it.

I want to tell him that I can’t, that I’ll cry if I do and I’ll feel even more embarrassed. But my curiosity takes over me.

So I slightly blink open my eyes. I don’t open my eyes fully, just enough to see the person through my tears.

It’s Matt, looking down at me all concerned.

I blink my eyes open. at the sight I watch his expression relax just slightly.

He himself looks overwhelmed, and honestly I don’t know if it’s because of how I’m acting, or if he had a shitty day himself.

“You okay?” He sighs slightly. I watch as he licks his lips and swallows thickly.

I take in another deep breath trying to calm down. I nod just slightly, but while I do the tears in my eyes finally spill.

I feel my hot tears run down my face. Matt’s eyes immediately widen and his mouth opens slightly like he thinks it’s his fault.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no please don’t cry.” He holds up his hands in front of my face as if he wanted to wipe my tears away but was holding himself back because he didn’t know my boundaries.

He looked miserable, like he was about to cry himself. And I just know that something this wouldn’t have him emotional like this on a normal day. At least I don’t think it would. But he seemed to be overwhelmed as well.

I scrunch my nose slightly sniffling in response. I glance back up at him and the sorrow in his eyes makes me want to sink into myself. I breathe out shakily.

Before I know it I’m bringing my hands up to my face and covering it. I tilt my head forward trying to stop crying, because crying in the school halls is just pathetic.

“I’m sorry. Fuck- can I touch you?” I hear his frantic voice. I appreciate that he asked first. I want a hug, but then again I don’t know Matt. But he just seems so genuine.

I overthink not responding to his question. My thoughts spiral at the sound of the sweet nothings and apologies leaving his mouth, only being back round noise.

Matt seems to notice that I’m starting to spiral. I feel his hand tenderly touch my wrist. I flinch slightly, and as soon as I do I feel him retract his hand.

Everybody deals with anxiety differently, some people like to be physically grounded others liked to be comforted some other way and I just knew that Matt was trying to figure out what to do without overstepping.

I’d tell him that it’s okay, or that he can hug me, but I literally can’t speak and I feel too embarrassed to let him see my teary face.

“I’m sorry, I’m-“ I hear Matt let out a breath. I know an anxiety breath when I hear one, he is panicking.

I decide to bite the bullet, what’s the worst that can happen. I look up slightly and peak through my fingers.

His hands are up and frozen. He looks almost frantic, Matt looks like the only way he knows how to ground me is by hugging me or something, but he seems unsure if that’s okay.

Despite myself I let out a little nod. Matt lets out another breath but this time he actually touches me, and I don’t flinch.

He holds my wrist and gently pulls my hands off of my face.

I let out a shaky sigh. I can’t help it when I let my head fall forward.

“It’s okay.” He says sweetly under his breath. He puts his hand under my chin as he picks my face up. Our eyes lock. I see the way Matt is also crying, tears running down his face too and I relax just a little.

He never seemed like the type to make fun of someone for crying, but especially not now.

“You wanna go to my car?” He says softly, not in a way where he is forcing me to do anything, but rather offering.

And honestly as upset as i am I have to weigh my options. Would I rather cry in the school hallways or in Matt’s car?

The best option would be to go to the bathroom, but Matt wouldn’t be able to come with, and honestly I would feel too bad leaving him alone at this point.

So I nod.

I feel Matt’s arm go around my shoulders as he hugs me for a moment. He turns me, and starts walking in a way where his arm is still around my shoulder keeping me close to him.

We walk out to the parking lot. I watch as Matt unlocks the car and opens the door for me to enter.

And by this point, if I go out this way so be it…

Before i can even register Matt is also getting into the backseat next to me.

We just look at each other for a moment. He breathes out another anxiety sigh.

“You want a hug?” And with that I don’t really know if he’s asking for me, or to comfort himself. But regardless I nod.

I feel his arms come around me and I sink into the feeling of his hug.

I’m uncertain if by tomorrow he’ll act like this all never happened, or if he’ll try to get to know me, because I’ve been wanting to know him for a while and I would more then gladly let him.

Masterlist

A/n: I know this is really short and I’ve been uploading a lot of angst recently. But I’ve been feeling sad, and every time I do write smut it’s for Kinktober. Soon you’ll get smut tho. Also this ended up a lot like crybaby. <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life

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adrienneleclerc · 8 months ago

Text

Meet The Family

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles decided it was a good idea to meet Y/N’s parents before his next Grand Prix, and it turned into meeting the entire extended family.

Warning: bad writing, spelling and grammatical errors, Spanish

A/N: this is the first time we have an established relationship between Charles and Y/N, yay! Their meet cute is inspired by how Billy and Camila met in the show Daisy Jones and The Six

Y/N met Charles at the supermarket in Monaco. Charles was in the produce aisle when someone came behind him.

“Hi, excuse me, can you…?” Y/N started and Charles turned around.

“Sign something for you? Um, I don’t have a pen, do you have one?” Charles asked.

“Uh, I was going to ask if you could move over so I could get some spinach. Or if you could grab the spinach for me, either way, I just need spinach.” Y/N said. Charles felt embarrassed and handed Y/N the spinach. “Thank you.”

“Sorry, but you don’t know who I am?” Charles asked.

“Should I? I’m not from here.” Y/N said.

“I could tell by the American accent. I’m Charles Leclerc.” Charles put his hand out and Y/N shook it.

“Y/N L/N. So tell me, Charles Leclerc, why should I be asking for you to sign something?” Y/N asked teasingly.

“Sorry about that, I swear I am not conceited, it’s just a lot of people in Monaco know me for what I do and I’m always approached with things to sign.” Charles said.

“Okay, and what do you do?” Y/N asked.

“I’m a formula 1 Scuderia Ferrari race car driver.” Charles said. Him and Y/N started walking around the supermarket together, not wanting to block anyone.

“Ooh wow, a race car driver, that’s pretty big. I’m not really into sports in that way. I could bump into a New York Yankee back home and not even know it.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled. “So tell me why are you here at the supermarket? I assume you would have a private chef that takes care of all the cooking and grocery shopping.” Y/N said.

“You would think that, but I mainly have to cook for myself. I am on a strict diet so I have to buy whatever Andrea tells me I should buy.” Charles commented.

“Who’s Andrea?” Y/N asked.

“My personal trainer.” Charles said.

“Makes sense, you are a high performance athlete after all. I gotta continue my shopping, but it was nice meeting you.” Y/N was going to walk away when Charles held on to her wrist gently.

“Before you leave, how about you give me your number. I could invite you to a race and make a formula 1 fan out of you.” Charles suggested.

“Wow, has that line ever worked?” Y/N asked.

“You tell me, this is the first time I’m using it.” Charles said. Y/N smiled, very flattered that the good looking monegasque wants her number.

“It’s working, i think it’s because of your eyes, maybe a little because of your dimples, but mainly that accent.” Y/N says, Charles gives Y/N his phones and she added her number.

“Remember that you’re the one with the accent in Monaco.” Charles said. Y/N gave him his phone back and Charles checked the contact information. “Let me take a photo of you for your contact.” Charles said, Y/N nodded and pose for the photo. “Beautiful, I’ll text you later.” Charles said and Y/N waved goodbye before heading to a different part of the supermarket to get what she needed.

Now it’s 6 months later, Y/N is definitely a Formula 1 fan, always rooting for Ferrari, but she’s also rooting for Checo and McLaren. Y/N was in her apartment cooking when she heard the door open and it was Charles with his luggage.

“Muñeco, did you come here from the airport? I thought you were going to come back tomorrow.” Y/N said, approaching him to kiss his cheek and help him inside.

“I was, but I have a surprise for you. You know how you said you’ve been missing your parents?” Charles asked.

“And New York in general, but continue,” Y/N said.

“Well i have arranged for us to go to New York and I can meet your parents.” Charles said and Y/N stayed silent. “You don’t like the surprise, chéri?” Charles asked sadly.

“No no no, it’s not that, it’s just…I never told my parents I had a boyfriend.” Y/N admitted as she walked back to the kitchen to continue cooking.

“What? They don’t know about us?” Charles asked. “How do they not know about us?”

“Well they don’t follow me on social media, obviously, and I don’t really call them often because if the time difference.” Y/N said, stirring the pot of pasta.

“Are you sure you miss your parents?” Charles teased and Y/N hit his shoulder playfully.

“I do, i miss my mom’s cooking, you have no idea how much I miss my mom’s lomo saltado. It sucks that your strict diet doesn’t allow you to eat some of the more delicious meals from my culture.” Y/N said,

“You and food. You think you can call them today and tell them about me?” Charles asked.

“Once it hits like 4pm over there, I’ll call. My parents should be home by 3 but I want them to chill a little before I bombard them with a monegasque boyfriend.” Y/N said.

“Would it be a FaceTime call or a regular phone call? Should I be with you when you tell them? I am so nervous.” Charles admitted.

“You’ve had other girlfriends before.” Y/N said.

“Yes, but I already knew their parents one way or another, do you know how small Monaco is?” Charles asked.

“I’m aware. I’ll call them and let you know when to come in and say hello.” Y/N said.

“Sounds good. I’ll stay and eat with you. I’ll stay until our flight to New York.” Charles said.

“When is our flight?” Y/N asked.

“In 3 days.” Charles said.

“Okay, that gives me enough time to pack. Are we flying private?” Y/N asked.

“Oh darling, of course we are.” Charles said.

After eating, they were watching a movie and Y/N checked the time, it was 10pm, it was 4pm in New York.

“Hey muñeco, Im gonna call my mom, okay.” Y/N said. Charles nodded, moving away from her on the couch. Y/N FaceTimed her mom, waiting a few second until she picked up.

“Mi niña, y este milagro? Por qué me estás llamando? Pasó algo malo?” My girl, and this miracle? Why are you calling me? Did something bad happened? Y/N’s mom, Elena, asked worriedly.

“Ay Mami, no pasó nada malo, te lo juro. Papi está contigo?” Oh mom, nothing bad happened, i swear. Is dad with you? Y/N asked.

“Eh sí, permítame un segundo. Enrique! Ven, tu hija nos está llamando!” Uh yeah, give me a second. Come, your daughter is calling us! Elena yelled and Enrique came into frame.

“Hija, cómo estás? Que milagro que nos estás llamado.” How are you? It’s a miracle you’re calling us Enrique said, Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Sí lo sé, es un milagro, pero les estoy llamando porque tengo noticias. Tengo novio.” Yeah, I know, it’s a miracle, but I’m calling you because I have news. I have a boyfriend Y/N said.

“Mira eso, otro milagro.” Elena said. “Y cómo se llama, que hace?” Look at that, another miracle. What’s his name, what does he do?

“Eh, pues aquí está. Charles, come introduce yourself.” Oh well, he’s here Y/N turned her phone so Charles is in frame.

“Eh hola, me llamo Charles Leclerc.” Charles leaned into Y/N’s ear and whispered “they speak English, right?”

“Yes, we speak English, Chuck.” Enrique said.

“Its Charles.” Charles corrects.

“Bueno Charles, what do you do?” Enrique asked.

“I am a formula one driver for Scuderia Ferrari.” Charles said.

“Anyway, les llamé para decirles que vamos a visitarlos en unos días. Así puedes conocer a mi novio mejor, él de verdad quiere conocerlos, no sabes lo emocionado que estaba cuando me dijo sobre el viaje.” I called to tell you guys that we will be visiting you for a few days. Like that you could get to know my boyfriend better, he really wants to meet you, you don’t know how excited he was when he told me about the trip. Y/N said.

“Está bien, vamos a preparar tu cuarto para que pueden venir, adiós, mi niña.” Alright, we’ll set up your room so you can come over, bye. Elena said and she hung up.

“They hate me, don’t they.” Charles said.

“You are the first boyfriend I ever told them about. You are my first boyfriend so it’s normal.” Y/N said.

“You have no idea how much I love being your first.” Charles kissed her. “Do you think I’ll be able to win over your parents?”

“I think you will, what’s not to love about you? Beside the fact that you don’t put on sunscreen.” Y/N said

“Ha ha, mon ange. I have a good feeling about this trip, it’ll be fun to see where you grew up.” Charles said.

Charles and Y/N we’re on the plane to New York.

“Do you think your parents would like these gifts? I’m having second thoughts.” Charles said.

“Muñeco, please calm down. My mom has always wanted a Dior bag and I’m sure my dad would appreciate that Rolex you got him.” Y/N said.

“Maybe I should have got him a Richard Mille, it would be like a statement, ‘i make enough money for your daughter to never work again’, I think all parents want that for their daughter,” Charles said.

“Well they also don’t want me to depend on a man so the Rolex is perfect. A little bit about my parents, my mom, Elena, is a housekeeper, my dad, Enrique, is a City worker, he’s an electrical engineer. My mom loves handbags, she has a whole collection which we usually get from the outlet mall. Both my parents grew up ‘poor’ back in their countries, but it’s all good now, they’re working class people. My dad is really into cars so maybe you could talk to him about that.” Y/N said. Charles was typing on his phone. “Are you taking notes?” Y/N giggled.

“Yes! I’ve never been this nervous before,” Charles confessed.

“Relax, muñeco, they are going to love you.” Y/N kissed him, hoping he would relax. Charles pulled Y/N onto his lap and they stayed like that for the rest of their flight.

Charles got a rental car from the airport, he chose an Audi, and drove to her parents’ place.

“You couldn’t have picked a cheaper car?” Y/N asked.

“Compared to what I drive, mon ange, this is the cheapest car I could have rented.” Charles said, parking the car.

“Nope, I’m parking, get out.” Y/N said, taking her seatbelt off.

“My parking is getting better.” Charles said, getting out of the car.

“It’s still not good, muñeco.” Y/N said. She got into the driver seat and parked the car, she got out of the car. “Can you get our bags, cariño?” Y/N asked. Charles kissed her before opening the trunk to get their bags. They made it up the stairs and knocked on the door. The door opened to reveal Elena.

“Ay, mi niña, It’s si good to see you again. Come in, come in, leave your stuff, we were just leaving.” Elena said, moving to the side, Y/N and Charles walked into the house.

“What? What do you mean you were just leaving?” Y/N asked. Charles left their luggage in the living room and sat on the couch while Y/N and Elena talked in the entrance.

“It’s Saturday, princesa, your Tia Hilda is having a carne asada to celebrate her son graduating high school.” Elena said.

“But mom, can you please get to know him first before we go? We are always early and I know you hate helping Tia Hilda with the decorations.” Y/N said.

“Tienes razón. So Charles, tell me about yourself. Enrique!” Elena said, walking into the living room, sitting on a chair opposite of the couch. Y/N sat beside Charles.

“Well i am 26 years old.” Charles started.

“Really? Y/N here is only 21.” Elena said. Enrique walked in and sat on the other chair.

“Yes, I know Mrs. L/N, but we have a lot in common and I believe we are good for each other.” Charles said, holding Y/N’s hand.

“Interesting. When you were dating Giada and Charlotte…” Enrique started.

“Papi!” Y/N exclaimed, surprised that her dad would look up Charles’s dating history.

“Did you say the same thing to their parents?” Enrique finished.

“With all due respect, sir, each relationship is different, those relationships were in different points of my life. I don’t see myself breaking up with Y/N any time soon. For right now, she is what I need in my life, she understands me, comforts me, she feels like home. I guarantee that anything Y/N has wanted I have to her, but she doesn’t depend on me for anything. De verdad amo su hija y espero que nos podemos llevar bien.” I truly love your daughter and I hope that we could get along Charles said. “My teammate and friend is Spanish so I learned a little. I learned more when I started dating Y/N.” Y/N looks at him with heart eyes, she is so in love with him.

“You seem like a good guy, it was really big of you to come all the way to New York to meet us.” Enrique said,

“Thank you, I actually have gifts for you.” Charles said, opening the luggage to pull out the Rolex to give to Enrique and the Dior bag for Elena,

“Oh it is beautiful, thank you, Charles. Now let’s go to the carne asada, Y/N, tell him how to get there, we’ll see you in a few.” Elena said, putting the bag away while Enrique puts on the watch. Y/N’s parents left the house and Y/N starts looking for her house keys.

“Found them, let’s go.” Y/N said, they left the house and locked the door,

“Mon ange, I barely survived meeting your parents, do you really think I can meet your entire family?” Charles asked, they started walking to the car.

“I believe in you, oh and you can’t say you’re on a diet, that’s offensive.” Y/N said, getting into the car.

“What?” Charles asked as he got in the car.

“You’re gonna have to eat what they’re serving, I’m sorry, you’re eating rice, grilled steak, chicken, ribs, hamburgers, hot dogs, shrimp if we’re lucky, you’re break your diet today.” Y/N said.

“Ugh, Andrea is going to kill me.” Charles started the car and followed Y/N’s direction to the house.

“Yay we made it, I wonder if Christina is here.” Y/N said, getting out of the car after she parked it.

“Who’s Christina?” Charles asked,

“My cousin. Well, my mom’s friend’s daughter, I call her my cousin.” Y/N said. She opened the gate to enter through the backyard,

“You just open the gate?” Charles asked, closing the gate behind him.

“Yes.” Y/N said looking at him, she then saw some cousins and aunts and uncles. “Hola hola!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Y/N!” The family shouted, all of them getting closer to her for a hug.

“Quien es el güero?” Her Uncle Hernando.

“El güero es mi novio, this is Charles Leclerc.” Y/N said. She heard a scream.

“No way, you’re dating Charles Leclerc, you could have told me.” Her cousin said,

“Charles, this is Christina, my cousin, he’s an F1 fan.” Y/N introduced them,

“It’s nice to meet you, Christina.” Charles said, shaking her hand,

“Oh my gosh, I am such a huge fan. When Lewis becomes your teammate, can you bring him over? Like Can that happen?” Christina asked.

“Maybe, I’ll ask the next time we plan on coming to New York,” Charles said.

“Yes! I made picarones, we’re supposed to have them later but I guess I can make an exception for il predestinato.” Christina said, leaving them to get a picaron.

“You’re gonna like it, it’s so good, she better bring me one.” Y/N said, a few moments later, Christina came with the picarón. Charles took a bite,

“Mm, it’s delicious.” Charles said, moving the picarón to Y/N so she could get a bite.

“Mm, best batch yet, Chris,” Y/N said,

“Thank you, I’ve been practicing,” Christina said.

“Everyone, it’s time to eat!” Archie, Hilda’s husband.

“Okay so don’t serve yourself the sauce, please don’t, okay?” Y/N said,

“Why not?” Charles asked, sitting at the table,

“Because it’s spicy.” Y/N said.

“I like spicy food, chéri.” Charles said.

“This is Mexican spicy, not white people spicy.” Y/N said.

“I think I can handle it, I’m gonna have some rice and shrimp off the grill.” Charles said, getting up to get a plate and serve himself some Mexican rice, grilled shrimp, and added salsa on the shrimp. He sat down and took a bite of the shrimp. “Hm, it good.” Charles started coughing and fanning his tongue. Y/N stifled her laugh while standing up to get a beer from the cooler. She opened the bottle and gave it to Charles who’s eyes were tearing up.

“Are you okay, muñeco?” Y/N asked.

“Why is it so spicy?” Charles asked.

“I think Monica was angry when making it.” Uncle Eduardo said. Monica hit his shoulder.

“I wasn’t angry.” Monica said, taking a chip to dip in the sauce. “This is good, I don’t know what y’all are talking about,” Monica said.

“So Charles, you drive for Scuderia Ferrari? You must be away a lot.” Archie said.

“Yeah, I’m away a lot, but Y/N comes with me to some of the races when she can.” Charles said, sipping the beer.

“Yes, the Suzuka Grand Prix was great, loved walking around Japan, was so much fun.” Y/N said, eating food.

“That’s good, that’s good.” Archie said.

“Yeah, and next weekend we will be in Spain.” Charles commented.

“You think you’ll win?” Mauricio, a cousin, asked.

“I hope I win, but it’s more than certain that Max will be in P1.” Charles admitted.

When they were finished eating, Charles played soccer with Y/N’s younger cousins, letting the younger cousins win.

“He’s really good with kids.” Christian told Y/N.

“You’ve seen all those posts about him with kids, it’s no surprise.” Y/N said.

“You seem really happy with him.” Christina commented.

“I am. I was worried about him meeting everyone, but I think it turned out better than I imagined,” Y/N said, watching the little kids tackling Charles to the ground and he’s just laughing.

The carne asada ended and Charles and Y/N were in the car.

“I think your family likes me. I’ve been invited over for Christmas.” Charles said and Y/N laughed.

“You think your mom would be okay with you spending Christmas in New York?” Y/N asked.

“Well she could come with us, and Arthur, Lorenzo, Charlotte, I want our families to meet each other.” Charles said.

“All in due time, muñeco.” Y/N said.

“I like when you call me muñeco.” Charles said, kissing Y/N.

“Okay, muñeco, let’s go, my parents are probably waiting for us.” Y/N said, Charles kissed her one more time before driving home.

The End

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