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zaebeecee · 6 months ago

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Blitzø’s 13 ••

Written by @fletchingbrilliant and ZaeBeeCee

Chapter 1: The Mastermind & the Con Man

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•••

Ocean’s Eleven-inspired Hellaverse fic.

When Blitzø receives a credible and threatening letter from an unknown source, he has no choice but to put together a team of hellborn and sinners for a little heist. The target? Lucifer Morningstar. The reason? That’s for him to worry about.

[ major ships: Stolitz, RadioDust, Fizzarozzie, Moxillie, Chaggie ]

•••

“Alright, Buckzo, here’s yer personal affects. Got a list fer ya to check’n make sure it’s all there.” The bleary-eyed demon on the other side of the desk pushed a grey plastic bin through the hole in the bullet-proof glass that separated him from the rabble he dealt with day in and day out.

The top layer was his jacket. Blitzø raised an eyebrow as he removed that, then his pants; the only other things in the bin, besides his boots and gloves, were a couple of tokens for the arcade down his block, a postage stamp he’d stolen from a kid on the day he was arrested (and, weirdly enough, what he’d thought he was getting picked up for at first), and a small ball of pocket lint.

His eyes went from the bin to the list. There were a lot of slots to list possessions, but his were just CLOTHES, TOKENS, STAMP???, and LINT. Blitzø felt his eyelids lowering. “Can’t say they don’t keep thorough records,” he muttered, taking his clothes and moving to leave.

“Don’t forget to sign,” the demon said. Blitzø sighed and grabbed the pen, scrawling his signature on the list. He started to leave again, but, “Hey, don’t forget your things.”

“It’s trash,” Blitzø said, gesturing at the bin with his free hand.

“It’s your trash,” the demon answered.

Blitzø glared up at the officer as he slowly reached out, grabbed the items in one hand, and dragged his claws along the bottom of the bin as he gathered them up. “Can I go now, or would you like me to wash the bin out before I return it?” The guard actually considered it. Before he could speak, Blitzø curled his lip, flicked the bin back through the hole, and got the fuck out of there.

Fifteen minutes later, Blitzø walked out of the large metal gate that stood around the Pride Ring’s only prison (thank fuck he hadn’t been stuck in Wrath, where he would have died, or Greed, where the for-profit prisons never would have let him out), resisting the urge to flip off the guard that rolled the gate’s door shut. What a fucking day, and it was only about three in the afternoon. He had no money, he had no phone, he had no ride… so, basically, the same position he’d been in four months ago when he’d been arrested. He headed off in the direction of Imp City, wondering if his apartment was even going to still be his when he got there. Loona was, after all, an adult. There was nothing saying she wouldn’t have taken the opportunity to get her own place. There was enough in his savings to cover rent, of course—especially with Barbie refusing to go back into rehab—but if the hellhound was no longer there to pay it…

Blitzø bummed a cigarette off a gimp who was tied to a road sign, waiting obediently for his… whatever to come out of a bakery, and he took a quarter from a change bowl in a convenience store (the cashier told him he wasn’t a customer and Blitzø reminded her that it was a convenience store and the quarter was convenient). He was halfway through the cigarette when he managed to find a pay phone that wasn’t completely mangled and out of commission, and he slipped the quarter into the slot, holding the receiver between his head and shoulder as he dialed the heavy metal buttons with one claw, his other hand holding onto the side of the box.

Hey, Loona, it’s me. I got released today. …no, shit, that’s distant. Hey, Loonie! Didja miss me? Fuck, she’ll just say no. Uh… …fuck’s sake. This shouldn’t be so hard.

The phone clicked, and a tinny recording of Loona’s voice filled his ear, and suddenly it didn’t matter that he didn’t know what to say. Her voicemail message hadn’t changed since he’d first gotten her that phone. He listened to her talk until it beeped, and then he hung up, retrieved his quarter, and went back to walking.

The apartment building was the same as he remembered, and the spare key was hidden in the same place, which was a huge relief, because he didn’t really want to get caught picking a lock into his own damn house on his first day out of the clink. Of course, it wasn’t like Hell really had laws, per se; really, it seemed to be if you pissed off the wrong rich person, they could get you put away for a while, and prisons in Hell sucked. On the one hand, they didn’t have their Ring Prince to worry about, because Lucifer never went anywhere. On the other, this ring was full of sinners, and sinners meant overlords, and fuck overlords.

The apartment was lit by nothing but the red light of the late afternoon sky filtering in through the windows. Blitzø flicked a light on and took the place in, everything from the arrangement of the furniture to the smell of the living room feeling nostalgic after so long an absence. It didn’t look like Loona had left, judging by the breakfast dishes in the sink and the new poster for a band he’d never heard of pinned to the wall, but she’d clearly left this part of the apartment alone for the most part. He almost smiled when he saw that his pillow was still on the couch.

She sure does hate change.

Blitzø found his phone lying face down on the desk, and it was off; dead, he assumed, until he tried turning it on and watched the screen light up before informing him it was fully charged. That finally brought a smile to his face, imagining Loona charging his phone for him, then unplugging it and turning it off.

He had one missed call from Loona with no voicemail from the day he got arrested. Other than that, nothing but four month’s worth of solicitor calls and spam emails. But that was fine. He hadn’t expected anything different. Who was going to call him? Loona knew he was locked up, and had probably told Fizz (and their relationship was iffy when either of them were feeling volatile), and… of course… St—

Blitzø crammed his phone in his pocket and went into the kitchen, scrounging for anything he could eat that didn’t need any kind of preparation. He grabbed a package of raw red meat, apologized mentally to Loona with a promise to replace it later, and went to the couch to shove the whole thing in his face.

He was moments away from calling Loona again—he really, really didn’t want to get attacked if she came home and freaked because there was someone in the apartment—before a knock at the door jarred him out of his thoughts. He cursed his bad luck, because of course someone would come by to sell something the fucking moment he got home. Determined to ignore it, Blitzø got to his feet and threw the package away when they knocked again. And then again. He crossed to the door, wondering if he could get away with just opening it, shooting whoever it was, and then get back to his very busy schedule of jack shit.

“I know you’re in there, Blitzo,” a strange voice called through the door in the annoying sing-song of a service worker who liked their job too much.

Blitzø cringed and put his hand on the jamb. “Then you’d know that’s not my name,” he called back in the same tone. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying, pal. Fuck off.”

“I’m not selling anything,” the stranger said. “I just have a delivery. I was instructed to give it to you personally.”

With a thud, Blitzø let his forehead hit the door. “How long do I have to ignore you before you go away?”

“I’ll stand here all night. And I’ll keep knocking.”

“Fuuuuck,” Blitzø whined, unlocking the door and opening it to find himself face-to-face with a courier imp. “What?” The courier looked entirely unbothered. He offered a letter to him. Blitzø stared at it, then looked back at the courier. “Whomst the fuck?”

“Someone who paid a great deal of money to get this delivered to you in a timely manner,” the courier said. “That’s all I know.”

Blitzø narrowed his eyes, snatched the letter, and slammed the door before the courier could nag him for a tip. He carried it to the couch and threw himself over the back, landing in a laying position and holding the letter over his head. Too thin to be a bomb, and nobody paid for a hand delivery of anthrax or some shit. There was no identification on it, but the envelope was made of some nice fucking material, so whoever sent it was at least attempting to put on the pretense of wealth. He grabbed a corner with his teeth and ripped the side open as a private and somewhat petty display of disdain, then spit the strip of envelope onto the coffee table and withdrew the letter.

It was nice paper too, a single sheet that had been typed on what looked like a typewriter. There was no signature, but it was addressed to “Blitzø”, and whoever wrote this had taken the time to cross the ‘o’ out with a pen. He couldn’t tell if that was because they were trying to endear themselves to him, if it was sarcastic, or something else. Honestly, he didn’t care all that much, and his eyes just skated over the contents of the letter until he hit a word that made him sit up straight.

Stolas?

Blitzø stared at the word. It didn’t change. He went back to the beginning of the letter and actually read it this time. Then he read it again, and again, feeling colder and angrier through each mental repetition. By the time he was through the sixth read, he was hunched over with his elbows on his knees, his claws piercing through the paper. “Who the fuck do you think you are, you son of a bitch?” he whispered, but of course, no one answered him.

He looked at the short final paragraph again.

You may choose to ignore this promise, whether his fate is of no importance to you or you simply do not believe it to be true. But keep in mind that his blood will be on your hands as much as it will be on ours.

Blitzø picked up the envelope again and noticed that it wasn’t empty. He hesitated for a long moment, because he really didn’t want to know, before he tipped the envelope to the side and felt something sliding out. After a few seconds, the envelope spit out a polaroid photograph and two feathers, all three of which fell into his lap.

The photograph was of Stolas, asleep in his bedroom, and had been taken from inside the room. The feathers… he would have known those anywhere. They were Stolas’s, and judging by the ends of the quill, they hadn’t fallen out naturally. They had been plucked from him.

“Fuck,” Blitzø muttered, putting his head in one hand and resisting the urge to crumple the letter up in his hand. It was fucking ridiculous, that was what it was. He and Stolas hadn’t spoken in five years, not since he’d tried to rob the Goetian Prince and that had turned into… a… thing that had lasted a short period of time and that Blitzø himself had put a rather abrupt end to. Even if it was true—and he didn’t know that it was!—why would this douchebag contact him? Of all people?

And the demand… it was worse than insane. It was fucking impossible. It wasn’t something a royal could pull off, and this asshole was expecting it from an imp?

…no. They weren’t. At least, not alone. And that was why they wanted him, wasn’t it?

Blitzø’s mind reeled with possibilities. Thoughts. With planning, it wouldn’t be completely unworkable, but where in Hell would he find anyone at all who was willing to go on such a foolhardy mission? And for no fucking pay?

No, asshole, we leave the ‘no pay’ part out and figure out how to break that to them when we get out. If we get out. If I can talk anyone else into it. Or we’ll just take more shit and that’ll be their pay. Finding a fence can be their problem, not mine.

A plan. He needed a plan. Blitzø went to the desk and grabbed a notebook and a pen, mentally berating himself for the fact that he wasn’t just ignoring the letter and getting back to his miserable fucking day. He had the photo and he had the feathers, but neither of those things were proof that the threat was true. Then again… if it was true, and he ignored it… He sat again and began writing the incomprehensible scrawls and diagrams that meant nothing to anyone except him, trying his damndest to formulate anything close to a workable solution to this stupid fucking problem.

The sun had set when he finally sat back and stared at the paper. It was… a lot of pieces with a lot of preparation. And there was so much that could go wrong. So, so much. But it was a good plan. If it worked.

It will work.

My plans always work.

It fucking has to work.

So that was one step down. Blitzø took a deep breath and got to his feet, starting to pace as he went through the contacts on his phone and tapped Fizz’s icon. Blitzø kept pacing as he waited for him to pick up, and the moment he heard the click, he spoke before Fizz had a chance to say anything. “Please don’t hang up on me yet.”

•

Fizz waited a number of rings before giving in. He knew, he knew, if Blitzø was actually calling, he legitimately needed something. It could have been anything from life-or-death drama to an emotional breakdown, but it would be a need all the same.

He sank into the seat in his dressing room, chewing his gum louder on principle. “Okay, Blitzø, you got like a minute.”

“You are a peach okay so I got out of prison today, surprise, hi, and I have a fucking fantastic job idea that I am really going to need your help with. But it’ll be so worth it! Like, so fucking worth it!”

Fizz scraped a bit of lint from under his claw, holding his hand out to make sure he didn’t scuff any polish. “You just got out. Today.”

“Sure did!”

“And you’re already planning a big job. Today.”

“Sure am!” Blitzø had that tone that he got when he was either intentionally being suicidal or was honestly just that confident in a great plan, and it was never clear which it was. “Come on, you’re always down to stick it to the ruling classes, right? It’s just a little lift! A single, solitary, itty bitty little treasure.”

Fizz snorted. “Are you kidding me? There’s no such thing as a little lift with you… unless it’s a new fling.” Unseen by his friend he stuck out his own unreasonably long tongue. He knew Blitzø knew.

“Don’t stick that out at me unless you plan to use it,” Blitzø said with a chuckle that sounded genuine. “But I’ve got you curious now, don’t I? You want in. I know you do.”

He threw himself over the side of his chair, kicking his feet back and forth. The whir of mechanics was like a sad yet comforting song. His tailed hat tinkled as the bells brushed the floor.

“...fuuuuuuuuck you know I doooooooo. Fine. I’m in, bitch.”

“Fuck yeah! Lucifer’s not gonna know what hit him!” Blitzø exclaimed.

Fizz fell over with a shriek, taking the chair with him. He scrabbled for his thrown phone, stomach on the floor and feet tangled in the chair. “Lucifer??! What the everloving fuck are you thinking, Blitzø???”

“Ah, fuck,” Blitzø groaned. He clearly hadn’t meant to say that. “Fizz. Fizzle. Fizzy-Bizzy. Calm down. I told you, I have a plan, just… just let me come and explain it to you, and I promise, it’ll make sense. Are you…” He hesitated, just for an instant, and then continued in that forced casual tone he used when he knew he was navigating potentially sensitive territory and didn’t want to seem either conscious of that or emotional. “Are you still shacking up with that guy from the Lust Ring?”

Fizz’s stomach flipped. His false hand shook in its grip on his phone.

Don't cry. Don't. You knew it wasn't gonna last. You knew it wasn't anything more than a fling.

He's the King of Lust, for fuck’s sake.

“...nah. We split. Had to get back to Greed and all anyway, y’know?” He tried to fake a casual laugh.

If Blitzø noticed, he didn’t say anything, but his tone was a little too bright to be truly oblivious. “Ah, yeah, right. Guess that makes sense. So… you’re back in that apartment?” Blitzø’s distaste was audible—he’d never made a secret of how much he hated Mammon, as well as the Greed Ring in general—but he didn’t harp on it this time. “What time are you off? I’ll come by then, unless you think Mammajamma’s gonna flip his shit if he finds out I’m there.”

“Uhhh…” Fizz had pulled himself up until he was sitting on the floor with his knees to his chest. Rehearsals had wrapped up for the day. And how likely was it that he'd pull an impromptu press release? The new show was only in test mode so far… “I'm wrapping up now. But let’s… let's meet at the Faust’s Bargain Café. I'll get us a private room in the back.”

“Beautiful. I’ll head out.” Blitzø was oddly silent for a few seconds, like he was debating what to say. “…see you soon, Fizz.”

Fizzarolli hung up the phone and stared at it, knees splayed out on the floor and his feet on either side of his hips. He ignored the pressure behind his eyes and the way his throat was clenching. The photo on his mirror was staring down at him. Mammon with his arm over Fizz’s shoulder, both of them grinning brightly. Fizz would look at it constantly, trying to remind himself that this was his dream. It didn't matter that Mammon’s ‘nickname’ for Fizz was scrawled over it.

It was cute when he called him a cunt.

He sighed, staring at it again. When he glanced back down at his phone, he saw he had opened his photo album without meaning to. He scrolled up… and there it was. The one photo he'd allowed himself to keep. Their cheeks pressed together, their smiles so warm.

That’s what happy looks like on other people. Not me.

Maybe if this plan of Blitzø’s went well, he'd be able to bargain for a better contract.

And if it didn't… he'd probably be dead, so it didn't really matter.

•••

Fizzarolli made a point to leave work through the second back way instead of the main exit. It was his time to leave, but he couldn't count on Mammon to not stop him and surprise him with another Late Night Bonus Rehearsal™.

He used the back entrance for the café, too. It was bad enough being out in the world without someone he knew around when not many demons knew who he was, but after becoming the Famous Fizzarolli, it developed into a whole new nightmare. With a special tap on the door, he was allowed in and given his private room, along with instructions to lead Blitzø to him once he arrived. To pass the time he started making a castle out of glasses and silverware on the table in the cozy curtained nook.

Blitzø arrived after about thirty minutes, which meant he must have booked it from Pride considering the time of night. “Yeah, thanks, don’t touch me,” he was saying as he entered the room, waving his hands at whoever it was that escorted him back. It was always the same when they met up, and it clearly hadn’t changed; even with direct instructions from Fizzarolli, no one ever seemed to believe that Blitzø could actually belong in the same room with him.

Once the escort had left, Blitzø flipped off their back before he turned to Fizzarolli. He looked pretty much the same as he had the last time they’d spoken, clearly still taking better care of his coat than he was of his health, but he seemed oddly stressed. Of course, he’d just gotten out of prison, so that was probably to be expected, but…

“You look fit,” Blitzø observed with only the mildest flirtatious overtone as he pulled a chair out with his foot and slipped into the seat, keeping his eyes on his friend the whole time.

Fizz raised an eyebrow, stretching out to lounge on the cushy bench he'd claimed. Something is really wrong. “Fit and flexible, baby. Did some pre-drinking on the way here or what?”

Blitzø shrugged. “I drive better buzzed,” he said with a sharp smirk, hooking one elbow over the back of his chair. “And it wasn’t my car, anyway. I’m surprised you agreed to meet with me after what I said.”

“After which thing you said?” Fizz snorted. “The overly personal stuff, or the thing about pulling a job against the fucking king of everything?”

“Oh, the second part, I don’t give a shit if I was overly personal,” Blitzø said dismissively, waving his hand a little. Since he wasn’t bringing the topic up again, Fizz knew it was Blitzø’s way of apologizing, as inadequate as it might be. “And, besides, I don’t mean… like… robbing him, robbing him. We aren’t going to his actual residence or something. Just, y’know, lifting some shit from Lucifer’s Palace.”

Fizz pushed himself up to lean over the table, stretching his arms across its length with a teasing smirk. “And just what in the hell could be worth the incredibly stupid risk, huh? You were right, I just have to know.”

“Alright, catch this,” Blitzø said, leaning in as well and lowering his voice for dramatic effect. “Lucifer’s Palace, the Pride Ring’s only resort and ritziest vacay spot, is opening its doors officially for the first time in seven years. There’s some high-profile soirée shit going down there in a few months. They’re keeping the details for it on the DL, so I don’t know what it’s for. What I do know is that the place is gonna be packed. It’s also gonna be playing host to all kinds of sinners and hellborn, which we know always gets messy as fuck.” He smiled. “When you invite children into your house, you childproof it. And when you childproof your house, you take your most important shit and you put it somewhere safe.”

Blitzø pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen a few times, then placed it on the table to show Fizz. He had pulled up a VoxNet image gallery of the artifacts kept in Lucifer’s Palace, scrolling through them slowly.

“Every single one of these objects is usually on display in the Palace at all times. And, of course, very carefully guarded. But—and here’s the fun part—whenever the place has a large gathering of mixed company, there’s always the threat of them getting damaged or going missing as collateral damage from an inevitable blowup. So, protocol is that each and every artifact is removed from the floor and placed in a safe beneath the palace. The safe is, of course, Lucifer’s safe, which is both good and bad. It’s bad because, well, obviously. But it’s good because it means there will be minimal security devoted to watching it.”

Blitzø scrolled back up the list and tapped an item to bring up its page. It was a simple, gnarled staff, made of two different types of wood twisted together. The groove where the wood met was a deep red, like an open wound torn between the two of them. The description called it the Bastinade of Life and Knowledge.

“This staff is made of the wood from those two trees from that story of Lucifer and Lilith’s excision from Eden. You know, the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.” Blitzø caught Fizz’s eye and held contact. “I have a buyer for it. We just need to get our hands on it.”

Fizz felt the air leave his scarred lungs. He turned wide and disbelieving eyes to his longtime friend. So many different things flew through his head. Different problems, different dreads, too many things that could go wrong. Even success could mean some very bad things. “You can't be serious. Who– why– who is hiring you for this? Why did you say yes??”

“Whoa whoa whoa calm your fuckin’ tits,” Blitzø hissed, leaning in further. “As far as who, proprietary. You can’t be held accountable for shit I didn’t tell you. As far as why, because I have an incredible fucking plan, just like always. I’ve got a line on a backer, I’ve got a connection in security at the Palace, and I can get both the blueprints and the event schedule on both the guest side and the employee side.”

Reality was settling over Fizz with a detached sort of horror. His extreme expression flattened into one no one else ever saw. “You're really serious about this. You really intend to pull this off… and you're not gonna tell me why it's worth it to do something this stupid. So I've gotta ask… what do you got to convince me it's worth risking my very expensive ass?”

For once, Blitzø’s expression remained completely serious, matching Fizz’s for intensity. “I can’t do it without you,” he said in a rare and very open display of sincerity. “Both of us know that. If I go into this alone, I’m not getting out of it.”

Fizz froze. He stared at his oldest friend-slash-frenemy, scanning his face, searching for something aside from that harrowing sincerity. But that was it.

“Okay, Blitzø. I'm with you. Now who in all of Hell would actually back this insanity?” He was glad Blitzø wasn't asking him. The idea of hiding that kind of expense from Mammon was…

Blitzø actually winced, just a little. “Well… a sinner,” he said, holding up his hand immediately, like he could sense the oncoming protest. “I know. I know, but you have to admit, sinners would be the only ones who’d actually commit resources to shit like this. And there’s one sinner in particular, an overlord, who’s apparently something of an actual enemy to Lucifer.” He smiled a little tensely. “You listen to the radio much out in Greed these days?”

Fizz cringed. “You mean the All Day Torture Fest? It's not worth all of the nightmare fuel to get to the good… stuff… wait… you're not saying…”

“There are people who say the Radio Demon will do anything if it brings chaos to the House of the Morningstar.”

“You're on something new, my guy. There's no fucking way you should be messing with the Radio Demon. That guy is… I mean…” Fizz hugged himself, feeling suddenly cold. “...have you listened to his show? A bunch of freaks are practically addicted to it, so sometimes I can't avoid it.”

Like my boss.

“Hey, I have wide and varied tastes,” Blitzø said evasively, which was enough to tell Fizz that he had listened to it, but how he felt about it was anyone’s guess. “It’s kind of irrelevant, anyway. I already looked into other options, and the Palace has contracted VoxTek for security for the event, so all of the Vees are out of the question. And I don’t know of any other overlords who would be willing to back this besides one of them or the Radio Demon. But look, you let me take care of that part, okay? You don’t have to come.”

“Hey. You're the one who's actually interacted with sinners before. I want nothing to do with that. Have fun, don't die.”

Blitzø laughed. “Oh, bitch, I’ll be fine. Before I talk to him, though, I’ve got a couple of people I wanna get in touch with. I know someone who’s working at the Palace that I’m pretty sure will get in on this, and I met a guy in prison the time before this last one that I think I can bully into helping. He’s a pushover but he has quick hands.” He hesitated, then sighed, resting his elbow on the table and putting his head in his hand. “I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m gonna do about Loona, though. She wasn’t home so I haven’t even seen her yet.”

Fizz found his expression softening. There was not a nice way to ask this question. “Is she… She's still staying there, right?”

Blitzø nodded. “…well, I think so, anyway,” he amended, rolling his eyes slightly. “She’s at least using it for food and she made sure the rent got paid, but there’s no telling if she’s actually sleeping there or not. And if she is… she’ll be pissed if I don’t tell her about this, but I can’t just bring her.”

“Oh, she's not gonna like that,” Fizz chuckled.

“I know,” Blitzø groaned, slumping until his face met the table. He then sighed and sat up, schooling his expression in a way that Fizz could only see after years of experience. “I’ll figure it out. Are you hungry, or do you have to head straight back?”

He thought about it. “...Fuck it. I'm not technically scheduled and, oh, the reception in here gets so bad sometimes. Let's feast, bitch.” He didn't just silence his phone, he shut the damned thing off.

Who could say? Maybe the payoff would be big enough that he could consider some… adjustments to his career path.

•••

Next chapter

#my writing #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #helluva blitzo #helluva stolas #helluva fizzarolli #stolitz #hellaverse #hellaverse fanfiction #hazbin fanfic #helluva boss fanfiction

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lanawinterscigarettes · 3 years ago

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Slashers x vampire! s/o

A/N: hey guys! I figured I should write something Halloweeny since it's the month of October. Enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of murder, suggestive content

Billy and Stu

"You're lying, there's no way"

They both thought you were joking until you showed them your teeth

Billy would be fascinated by them and would want to know your opinions on vampires potrayed by the mass media

Whereas Stu would just make a lot of sex jokes

"So like, when you kill someone, do you get an automatic boner or..?"

Your date night would consist of you renting a bunch of vampire flicks and critiquing them in every way

"That's completely inaccurate, vampires don't sparkle when they enter sunlight, we just get bad tan lines. Do your research Stephanie Myers"

Billy would proudly listen to you rant and rave while Stu would egg you on

Stu making vampire jokes in public while Billy gets more and more exasperated

"Hey, what would you get when you cross a vampire with a snowman? Frostbite!"

"Stu"

"Yeah Billy?"

"Shut up"

They'd end up letting you go on kills with them if you didn't already so you could feed off of their victims

Both of them would get insanely turned on by the sight of you covered in blood, and ~things~ would ensue once you got back home

Jennifer Check

"Really? That's hot"

She'd immediately be super attracted to it

You guys would be the ultimate power couple at your school, intimidating pretty much everybody

She wouldn't ask you too much about your transformation unless you told her about it first, since she knows how painful it can be to go through something like that (especially against you will)

Like Stu, she'd probably ask you more sexual questions than anything else

"Does killing people turn you on? Like, do you get sexual gratification from it, or is it more of just a feeding thing?"

If you've been around for awhile, she'd want to know all the best ways to lure away potential victims

The two of you teaming up in order to get double the food

You guys have done it completely covered in blood next to one of your victim's dead body before, I'm not gonna lie

Getting revenge on the guys who made her the flesh eating demon she is today, and if you went through the same experience, you'd best believe she'll hunt them down and drain them of every drop of blood in their body

Complimenting each others supernatural attributes

"Your fangs look extra hot today"

"Why thank you, I was just about to say the same thing"

Setting a schedule for when to go hunt together so you can make sure the two of you are as fed as possible

"Huh...okay"

He wouldn't make that big of a deal out of it, to be honest

Part of him would be a bit skeptical, not because he thought you were lying, but because he didn't think that vampires existed in the first place

If you've lived for a long time, he'd be interested in your opinion on whether or not humans have a chance at becoming a better society as a whole or if they were doomed from the start

He probably makes fun of you if you wear only black (like he's one to talk)

You have a lot of midnight snack runs, him picking up a slushie from the Snappy Snack Shack and you picking up a random civilian to feed off of

Staying up all night long and groggily shuffling into school the next day

Him asking you deep questions about life and you being too tired to care about the answer

"Hey, what do you think happens when we die?"

"Well shit Jason I don't know, I've never died before now have I?"

"Technically you have, being immortal and all"

"...shut up"

Him killing anyone who dare insult you, and vice versa

You getting upset when he goes to kill someone without letting you tag along

"What, are you kidding me?! You wasted a perfectly good walking blood bag!"

You picking up on his bad habit of smoking, except your immortal so it doesn't affect you lol

Fucking each other in your car or on his motorcycle after you've just gotten back from a recent kill

Taglist: @langdonsreign @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl

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mercy-burning · 3 years ago

Text

Affection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Y/N decidedly hate each other. But when a near-death experience puts one of them in a coma, their mutual hatred might have to take a backseat— Or will it? Category: Angst / Happy Ending! + Humor and a lil bit of Fluff Content: Strong language, Reader is in a coma, mentions of injury, kissing Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one’s for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) September Writing Challenge, Enemies To Lovers! I have another one coming up as well, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head ever since I watched The Abyss with my dad and I had to get it out 😅 I hope you like it!!

———

I swear to fucking God, if this motherfucker really thinks he—

That was the last thing Y/N thought before she was knocked out cold.

With her line of work, it was natural to assume that she was thinking about the unsub, but unfortunately the criminal she and her team were tracking down was the farthest thing on her mind. Spencer would have chastised her for it— letting something else cloud her thoughts while she was in a dark alley, alone, and with a serial killer on the loose.

"You should be smarter than that!" she could hear him say in that high pitch he always carried when he was upset— especially with her. "If you don't get yourself killed one of these days, then it'll be the rest of us!"

Thinking about it made her blood boil.

"It's your fault," she wanted to tell him. "I had to blow off some steam because you were pissing me off!"

The only thing was... She couldn't tell him.

Well... She could.

He just couldn't hear her, because no one could.

It was like some stupid, cliché movie, where you found yourself standing over your dying body and having to choose whether to live or not. It seemed like the obvious choice, to fucking live, but... Y/N found herself wandering around her hospital room, yelling into the void and attempting to jump back into her own body.

Nothing was working.

And when Spencer showed up, his face red and his hair and clothes all messed up, she wanted to scream at him.

"Hey!"

Nothing. He was practically lifeless as he drifted to the chair next to her bed and sat down. It was nearly impossible to read from his expression and body language how he was feeling, and that alone was enough to make her angry again. (Not that the anger had really gone away since waking up next to her comatose body, of course.)

"Hey! Dumbass!"

Still nothing.

As Spencer just blankly stared down at Y/N's bed, she decided she'd had enough.

"SPENCER FUCKING REID, IF YOU DON'T HELP ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL HAUNT YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF ETERNITY, AND I'M GONNA LAY FAT, STINKIN' GHOST SHITS IN YOUR SHOES, DO YOU HEAR ME? AND—"

"I hate you."

It was a bold enough statement to stop Y/N in her tracks, no matter how quietly he'd mumbled it. She knew for sure that he didn't like her, after years of constant bickering and dirty glares and whatever else, but... The word 'hate' was like a knife that sliced through her joking rage and stopped the whole world around her.

If she wasn't already out of her own body, she just knew she would have felt her soul leave.

Spencer didn't hate anyone. Not that she was aware of, anyway. He found nearly everyone delightful, and vice versa... But for some reason, he hated Y/N.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual, I guess..."

"You're stupid, and reckless, and you don't think. And you're a goddamn nightmare to work with... You know what— You're a stone-cold bitch."

His words made her physically step backwards, and it felt like if she were a cartoon, there might have been steam coming out of her ears.

"Yeah, well jokes on you, you make it easy," she seethed. "Fuck you!"

"How... How dare you..." he continued, anger reddening his face.

Y/N watched as he balled his fists and leaned in a little closer to her body, his voice tight and strained. "How dare you walk into my life and boss me around and make it impossible to breathe... From the moment I met you, you've brought out this... this fire in me that I can't put out no matter how hard I try, and it's insufferable—You're insufferable, and I hate you, how dare—"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a shortness of breath. Spencer breathed in, loud and choked, and the next breath he let out was nothing short of a sob. His eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down them and his hands clutched the bedsheets with a vigor and rage that Y/N had never seen from him, even in all the years she'd spent visibly getting on his last nerves.

"N—No," she choked out, feeling her throat tighten. "Don't... Don't turn into a sappy mess on me now, do you hear me, Reid? You hate me, don't... Don't..."

"I don't hate you," he whispered, wiping his eyes and reaching out to grab her lifeless hand. "I hate that you make me feel this way, but... I could never hate you..."

She wanted nothing more than to be able to squeeze his hand back, to tell him, not even necessarily with words but with a simple gesture, that she was right there and wasn't going to go anywhere.

She just... had to figure out how to make that true.

Still, Spencer kept going, a small laugh bubbling up through tears and phlegm. "But I will hate you if you die, because I just know you're gonna come back and haunt me for eternity... Probably... shit in my shoes or something."

Y/N barked a laugh that was true and pure... Happy, even.

The genius may have acted like he hated her, but it turns out he knew her pretty well, perhaps even fondly in one way or another.

To think— All those years she spent seeing him sneer at her, feeling his glare burn into her soul, the amount of times she caught him making faces or inappropriate gestures behind her back, all of it... And the whole time, he was probably doing it with a little flicker of fondness deep within the confines of his heart, which he swore to fill with nothing but hatred for her.

The thought made the little flicker in her own heart burn brighter.

As she wandered closer to her bed, beside Spencer and in front of her own body, she reached her hand out to see if she could touch his face, to give him something...

Even though she had no luck, something shifted when he spoke.

"Just... Come back to me, please? I know I'm not good at apologizing, but if it means I get you back... I swear that I will make up every horrible thing I've ever done or said to you. Just... Please don't leave me."

He laid his head down in his hands and tried not to cry again, every said horrible thing replaying on a loop in his brain like some kind of taunt. He wished more than anything for a chance to make it up to Y/N, and now he might not ever be able to.

"You think I'd leave this mortal earth without getting the chance to kick your ass?"

Everything was so fuzzy and light and brimming with these high emotions that Y/N almost didn't realize she was saying these words and Spencer was hearing them. She almost didn't feel the warmth of her bloodstream beneath layers of skin, the beat of her heart slowly coming back to life at the sounds and smells of the hospital room.

She almost didn't realize that Spencer was grabbing her now, his warm hands covering her cold ones and bringing them back to life as well.

"Screw you," he breathed with absolutely no malice to be detected in his voice.

They shared a smile so bright, no one would have been able to guess that they never got along.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Not only was she stuck at home doing nothing while on suspension (Yes, it turns out that storming off into an alley and not paying attention while on the job, just because a co-worker pissed you off, can get you suspended by Chief Strauss), but Y/N was also being visited by a daily rotation of her co-workers and friends and family, and her house was nearly covered in flower bouquets and baked goods.

It was a nightmare.

The sentiment was nice, sure, but if she had to move one more vase, she was going to start throwing them.

God, maybe Spencer was right, I am a stone-cold bitch...

Thinking of him also put a little damper on her mood.

He hadn't been to visit her once... And she figured that after their nice little moment at the hospital, he'd at least stop by with flowers or an "I'm glad you're not dead!" call, but there was nothing on his end. Not even a text message or a letter.

But for all she knew, their small moment of kindness could have been a figment of her concussed imagination.

Please, she thought, if I brought it up to him he'd probably just laugh in my face.

Rather than a laugh, Y/N heard the bright sound of her doorbell, which normally would have meant a fun unexpected visit or a date she was getting ready for, but by now it only meant another vase of flowers or a pie from a neighbor she still didn't remember the last name to.

Either way, she answered the door with as polite a smile as she could muster, and instead of finding a vaguely familiar neighbor or acquaintance, she found Spencer.

Though, to be fair, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Well, this is a surprise," Y/N drawled, crossing her arms. "I don't even think you've ever been to my house."

She was surprised to see him nervous around her, rather than irritated. And she would have found it endearing had they not been practically mortal enemies from the moment they met... She was suspicious.

"O—Oh, yeah... I know, I just thought... I wanted to come see how you were doing... These are for you."

He held out the flowers, which were truthfully the pretties set she'd received, and it irked her. Because of course he of all people would be the one to tell which kinds of flowers she'd prefer.

"Thanks," she said, taking them from him and allowing him the space to come inside. "Watch out, it's a maze in here..."

While she looked for somewhere to put the flowers on display, she could feel Spencer looking around her space, probably profiling what he could behind a sea of flowers.

"Hm."

Y/N sighed. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just... I'm surprised this many people actually like you."

Despite the nature of his observation, she found it comforting. That level of playful contempt was what she was used to, and it brought a sparkle to her eye as she turned to face him. "Ha... I'm not a complete bitch, you know."

"Sure."

Between the growing grin on his face and the smirk forming on her own, Spencer and Y/N found themselves falling back into a familiar rhythm. And yet, something about it was still... different.

So much so that Y/N felt honest-to-God butterflies in her stomach when he approached, hands retreating from his pockets and head tilting off to the side. His expression held that look he got when he was trying to figure someone out, usually an unsub. She hated to admit it to herself, but a little part of her always found that side of him extremely attractive.

And now that it was right in front of her?

She didn't know what to make of it.

"What?" she snapped, looking for an excuse to hide any and all attraction she was feeling.

Spencer stepped back a little, breaking away from whatever trance he'd just been in. "God, why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You push away every single show of affection! Any time I'm trying to be nice, you just act like it's some big inconvenience to you!"

Y/N laughed. "Ha! That's what that was? Just now? When you insulted me, and then started stalking towards me with that look you get when you're interrogating an unsub? That's what you call affection?"

"That's not... That's not what that was!"

"Oh really? Then what was it?"

"It was part of the routine! Banter! Y—You know, that's our thing! We insult each other, and we act like we hate each other but we... We don't, really..."

The longer he went on, the faster her heart raced. This was the moment in the movie where he inevitably blurted out that he loved her, and in turn she would either kiss him or slap him, or slap him and then kiss him...

But Y/N was still feeling rather playful despite the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begging for some relief.

"Oh?" she prompted, taking a slow step closer to him. "We don't?"

Spencer seemed to get red immediately, and he avoided her eyes. "U—Uh... Well I... I thought... Maybe I read it all wrong, a—and I'm sorry if I did..."

She'd been getting closer meanwhile, and now they were practically toe-to-toe. He did his best to ignore her, taking a few steps back until she cornered him against the front door. And with the way he wasn't doing anything to get out of his predicament, she took that as his acceptance and took another leap.

"What..." she cooed, crawling her fingers up the front of his chest like a spider. "You like me? Hmm?"

When he finally looked down at her, she allowed herself to smile, albeit slowly and with calculation.

In a flash Spencer went from nervous to fed-up, weight seeming to visibly lift from his chest as he sank against the door. "You're messing with me..."

"It's so fun."

"You know what, screw you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maybe it is. What are you gonna do ab—"

She didn't let him finish.

In an instant, Y/N lunged forward and pulled him down for a kiss.

Even though she thought he might have tried to take control of the situation, he ended up surprising her with a wanton moan as his hands clutched at her sides, holding on for dear life. Their bodies and tongues collided in a mess of years worth of pent-up tension, chaotic and wild and fiercely beautiful in a way that put even the greatest first kisses to shame.

And of course, Spencer had to go and ruin it.

He pushed her away and looked almost panicked. "W—Wait, are you even cleared to do this?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching out for him again. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, you were in the hospital! I thought... I thought you were..."

She appreciated the sentiment, but with her entire body on fire from his touch, she decided she needed more of it. "Yeah, but I'm not... I'm very much alive, and you know what?"

He blinked back at her, watching carefully as she leaned in close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's because of you. You make me feel... more alive than I've ever been."

"And... You're not messing with me this time?"

With a laugh, Y/N shook her head and leaned up to brush her nose with his. "Nuh-uh... But if you'd like to, I'd love to mess with you in a more fun way. And maybe I'll even let you do it back..."

Spencer hummed, feeling himself gravitate towards her more with every passing second. "Deal."

He barely got the word out all the way before she was dragging him through the maze of flora and contained food and into her bedroom, where piece by piece, their hatred and fondness for one another combined to create the most exquisite of nights.

———

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @ssacalumsg0lden @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @b-a-utiful @jareauswifey @flipperpenguins @pansexualthing @donald4spiderman @awesomebooklover17 @shemarmooresfedora @izraahh1 @bakugouswh0r3 @singularityjc @xoxospencerreid @thatsonezesty13 @big-galaxy-chaos @mggskneescrews @youabitchhhh @spencersjello @moonlight-2-6 @starrylang @foreveryoungxx3 @spencerreidscoffeecup @morganwilliams @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @gubswh0re @mrsobrien888 @umbreonwolfy

TAGS NOT WORKING: @ayla-1605 @loveeee@2134 @emilyprsntiss

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #enemies to lovers

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winter-soldier-vibes · 4 years ago

Text

Where’s my white flag? (Bucky x reader)

Bucky x reader

Word count 2620

Warnings: Suicidal ideation, depression, worthlessness

Summary: Reader is on the roof experiencing suicidal ideation and Bucky talks her down from it.

A/N: Please, PLEASE, if you think this will do more harm than good, skip this one. I don’t want to harm anyone in their journey, but writing comfort helps me feel as if I am getting it. I hope that you can feel some too, because people do care. If you feel similar ways to this fic, please reach out, you're not alone. As always, my messages are open too. <3

Taglist: @buckys2thicc @abitgryffindorky @thatfangirl42

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

It was a gorgeous night, really. It was a warm summer night, a light breeze blowing your hair. The sky was clear, stars scattered across it. The moon was bright, and the streets weren’t too loud for New York. The buildings lit up the streets, and even in the busy city setting, it wasn’t as harsh as it could be sometimes. It really was beautiful.

Especially looking over it from the roof of Stark Tower.

You knew you weren’t doing yourself a favor, sitting with your legs over the edge gazing out at the streets below. You knew it wasn’t the best choice for your mentality. Not that you cared much anyway.

See, life had been less than kind to you recently. You loved your family, the Avengers, and being on the team. But one day, doubts and stress had crept in. you don’t know why or when exactly it happened but soon the bad days became bad weeks. It wasn’t long before a good day came as a surprise, and lately you had stopped hoping that they would come. You were used to this numb depression. That didn’t mean you enjoyed it.

But you never thought you’d ever be able to get out of it.

You knew the team loved you, you knew you were good at what you did. But even so, every night you somehow found yourself doubting your worth and questioning your abilities. You had been able to hide behind fake smiles for some time, but soon it became easier to hide in your room. No one to hide from, no reason to hide.

You felt like you were living on borrowed time. You didn’t know when living became a chore and not just...living. Most people will find work boring or basic chores undesirable. But for you the basics of living as a human had become too much for you. Exhausted from the slightest interactions or basic human needs.

Your emotions would slide from one extreme to the other or disappear entirely. Feeling too much or nothing at all. It’s one thing to be trapped in a place physically. It’s another when your body is the cage and somewhere you had lost the key.

Which is why you found yourself out here on the roof. Again. You’d been coming up here more and more recently, driven to desperation. You never knew if you would ever go through with it. If there would ever be a time you would actually jump, or if every time would be chalked up to getting fresh air. You put a lot of thought into it and this was the best way you could think of to end your pain. Yet even though you wanted to die, you never quite felt like you could ever do it.

Not necessarily that you wanted to die - more so you just didn’t want to live the life you had been given. It was too painful. And you were tired of fighting for something that had proved to you that it wasn’t going to work out.

You had people, a family. No matter how much you doubted your worth, you know it would have an impact on them. Tony would overwork himself in the lab. Natasha would shut down emotionally. Steve and Bucky would blame themselves even though it had nothing to do with them. They were the reason you had been able to stay for so long.

But they wouldn’t think that. They would only see that you were gone and blame themselves for not noticing. Even though they had been - checking in on you or having you sit out missions out of worry of the risks you took. They cared about you, and you didn’t want to hurt them.

But lately, the pain of everything building up had begun to outweigh the worry of the impact you would have on them.

It was better this way

They’d be better off

You wouldn’t be in pain anymore.

Just lean forward, close your eyes and -

“Y/n?” you heard a familiar voice behind you.

You let out a small breath before opening your eyes. You knew who it was. Without turning around you replied with a small “Hey Bucky.”

You looked up from the ground, still not looking at him. “Beautiful night isn’t it?”

Bucky started walking towards you nervously. He had noticed how withdrawn you had been but he never imagined….swallowing, he asked “What are you doing out here?”

You merely shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. You still weren’t sure how tonight would end. “Just clearing my head I guess.” you replied with. You spoke as if you were sitting on the kitchen counter with your legs dangling over. As if you weren’t over 1,000 feet above the city streets below.

Swallowing nervously again at seeing your feet dangling over the edge, he cleared his throat. “Can I sit with you?”

You nodded, still unable to look at him as he sat down next to you. You knew the emotion would be overwhelming if you did. He felt his heart rate pick up looking over the edge, knowing that a wrong move from either of you would certainly be lethal. “Do you want to go inside and talk?”

You were silent.

“Why don’t we move back a little bit, it’s pretty dangerous to be this close to the edge.”

“I know,” you said, finally meeting his eyes. “That’s kind of the point,” you said almost emotionlessly. Bucky looked back at you, eyebrows creased in concern. You held the edge of the roof in your hands tightly, knuckles turning white. You looked back down at the streets below. “You ever think about dying?” you asked suddenly, emotion starting to grow inside you as you felt tears prick your eyes from being so vulnerable. No going back now.

“Y/n, why don’t we go inside, we -”

“I know I wouldn’t want to drown” you looked at him and shook your head. “Slow and painful. Not for me. I’ve thought about pills but it isn’t always effective and I could just end up getting really sick, and depending on the medication it could be painful.” you laughed bitterly as tears filled your eyes, looking back out at the skyline. “Some people think you take meds and fall asleep but it’s not always like that. I know if I died I would want it to be quick. A gunshot, snapping my neck…” you paused for a moment, letting the tears spill over. “...Falling off a building.”.

Bucky could feel his heart pounding in his chest at your words, breaking at how casually you talked about this and how much thought you had given it. “Do you think about it a lot?” he asked, voice wavering from anxiety.

You swallowed dryly as you felt Bucky’s eyes on you. “A gunshot is the easiest. It’s messy, but it’s certain. But if I did that then one of you would be the first to find me, and no one would ever want to go in the training room again. It’s nearly impossible to snap your own neck. But if I jump…” you tilted your head back and forth a little. “The public finds me first. You wouldn’t be the first to see me.”

You took a deep breath and brought your eyes back to his. “I think about it every goddamn day.”

Bucky took a deep breath. You started to stand up and Bucky did too, nervous at what you were going to do. He reached out his hand to try to grab you but you swatted it away, walking away from the edge slightly and turning your back to him.

“Y/n, talk to me, let me try to help you.” he said. “Please,” he added, desperation threading his voice.

You turned around, arms crossed. “You can’t help me, no one can help me.” you shook your head. “Every day I wake up and it’s the same shit. It's the same tiring life and routine, over and over. It’s the same feeling 24/7. There’s no escape from it, there’s no break.” you started getting more passionate and put your arms out. “Even if I could get a break I’d come back to the same shit at some point. There’s no escaping my life and my feelings, I can’t turn off my mind.” your voice was rising through tears of frustration. “I don’t want this life anymore, okay? I want to die but I can’t do it. No matter how much I want to, I CAN’T! Where’s my fucking white flag?!” you shook your head again. “When do I get to tap out? I can’t do this anymore!” you shouted. “I’m tired of fighting for a life that I will NEVER have!”

Bucky looked at you sadly, knowing all too well the feeling of craving an escape. He walked closer to you, you trying to walk away. He grabbed your hand and you wrestled out of it. He came closer and grabbed you by your shoulders more firmly trying to bring you into a hug. “Get the fuck off.” you said, trying to get away, punching his chest. It didn’t affect him, and he just kept trying to hold you still despite your wrestling figure. Eventually your anger melted into agony, as you let out sobs against his chest, giving into the embrace.

“Please, just let me die…”

“It’s not your time yet,” he whispered.

You began crying harder and he held you protectively, whispering “I got you. It’s okay.”

He kept repeating that and hushing you, keeping his arms tightly around you, supporting you. “I don’t want to do this anymore…” you sobbed into his chest.

“I know,” he said, his voice cracking. He cradled your head against his chest. “I know.”

After standing there for a few more moments, he said “Let’s get you inside. It's going to be okay.”

And with that, he moved to pick you up, doing so with ease. You hid your face against his chest, trying to contain your cries. You were embarrassed to be so emotional. Luckily for you, your room was close to the elevator and seeing as it was early morning now, no one was roaming the halls.

He brought you into your room and sat down on the bed, still holding you in his lap. You were still crying, both from the situation and out of shame for being so vulnerable. He still held you tightly, whispering comforting words to you and breathing steadily. Eventually you were able to find your own rhythm, still crying softly. It wasn’t until now that you realized how badly you were shaking.

After a few minutes of silence, Bucky began to speak. “I just want you to listen, okay?” when you nodded he continued. “I know that you might not believe me but I felt the same way once. Remembering everything I did as the Winter Soldier and the nightmares, they just...wouldn’t stop. Remembering was the worst part. Knowing what I did, even if I didn’t have control, made day and night hell. I couldn’t make it stop.” Your eyes filled with tears, knowing how much he blamed himself.

“I couldn’t control the memories and the nightmares. I couldn’t avoid my metal arm. It was a constant reminder of everything they made me do. And I didn’t want to feel the guilt that I did. But death wasn’t the answer.” he guided your face to look at his. “Death is never the answer. The memories stay, but the guilt fades.”

“You are such a good person.” when you scoffed he added “I know these feelings and thoughts tell you you’re not but you are. I know it may seem like it will never end, but it can get easier. You don’t have to be okay, you don’t have to be strong for us. But taking away your chance at every future good experience by permanently preventing the bad ones isn’t worth it.”

Your eyes filled with fresh tears. “Sometimes it feels like it’s all about pros and cons. Like no good experience could outweigh the pain of all of this.” you let the tears fall and shook your head. “Life isn’t supposed to hurt.”

He hugged you tightly. “No one asks for pain, no one asks for this. It’s not your fault that you feel this way and it’s okay. But it can get better, I promise.”

You cried into his chest. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“There’s no right thing to do. You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here for you, and I know the whole team would be too if you needed them to be. You’re not weak, you’re not stupid. You’re going to get through this, because you are strong.”

“I just…” you started, shaking your head a little. “This was never supposed to happen. I don’t know why I can’t control it anymore. It’s been bad for a while but I was always able to function and push down this type of thing. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know where I went wrong.”

Bucky shook his head. “It’s not your fault. You can’t control it. These things happen, there doesn’t always have to be a reason. Emotions are what they are and our own minds can be our worst enemy. We know the best way to hurt ourselves, we know what our weaknesses are. Sometimes our minds take advantage of that.”

You moved to look at him. “How did you make it stop? You said it got easier, how did you do it? How do you turn it off?”

“It’s not quite that simple. I know deep down that I wasn’t in control. It was what HYDRA had created that killed those people, not the human I was before. And I tried to remind myself that I still had the person I was before HYDRA in me, somewhere. And slowly I tried to find who I used to be to help create who I could be. I don’t know if that makes sense -”

“It does,” you said as you leaned into his chest again. you squeezed your eyes shut. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. I’m always here to help you okay?” you nodded. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep, and we can talk in the morning, okay?” you nodded again, and Bucky gave you another hug before standing up. You lied down, you being too tired to care about changing out of your day clothes. They were comfortable enough.

Bucky, not wanting to leave you alone, went to go sit in a chair. He didn’t want to cross any boundaries. Before he could sit down though, you sat up and turned to him.

“Can you lay with me please?” Bucky nodded. “Yeah, of course.” He took off his shoes and climbed into the other side of the bed, giving you some space. You moved to be flush against his chest, his heartbeat soothing to you. “Thank you,” you said softly

“No need to thank me.” He said softly, wrapping his arms around you, making you feel protected. “I should be thanking you.” He added

“For what?” You asked, confused.

“For not giving up.”

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

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My Name Isn't

Summary: You find out the guys (Bucky, Steve, and Sam) have a bet as to who can kiss you first, so you confront them at Tony's team building karaoke night.

Warnings: some swearing and drinking

Word Count: 3187

a/n: This was inspired by my love of the classic using karaoke to express your feelings trope and the song My Name Isn't by LOVA. I did change the lyric "yours" into "doll" though because it made sense in the story.

"Not a chance, Wilson." Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve walked into the room, unbothered by the familiar sounds of Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes arguing.

"C'mon tin man, you afraid you're gonna lose?' Sam couldn't help but tease the super soldier.

"It's a stupid bet! Steve tell him it's a stupid bet." Bucky stared at his best friend, silently begging for him to agree.

Steve's tone could only be described as exasperated when he responded, "what is it this time?"

"I bet Barnes and Noble over here," Sam stopped talking to dodge the book Bucky threw at him, "that I could get Y/N to kiss me before he could, and he's too chicken shit to take the bet."

"It's a stupid bet!" Bucky was gearing up to throw another book when Steve chimed in. "I don't know Buck, it could get you to finally act on your feelings for her."

Bucky rolled his eyes, responding with his typical denial "I don't have any feelings, punk."

Sam and Steve shared an obvious "this man is lying" look before turning back to Bucky.

"Fine, Cap since Bucky won't take the bet, will you?" The mischievous gleam in Sam's eye shown through as Steve weighed his options.

"It is a pretty stupid bet, but I'm doing this for you Buck." Clapping Bucky on the shoulder, he turned to Sam. "I'm in." As Steve went to shake Sam's hand, Bucky gave in.

"Fine! Fine. All three of us. The first one to kiss her wins." Bucky reluctantly agreed.

"Now, what does the winner get?" Sam posed the question, mischief clear in his eyes.

The first time you had an inkling that something was afoot was your training with Steve and Bucky later that same day. Steve wasn't overly touchy or anything that would make you uncomfortable, this is America's Golden Boy after all, but he kept calling you "honey" or some variation of it. You'd throw a punch and rather than correcting your form in his usual commanding Captain voice, he would feed you a random compliment followed by a "try it like this hun."

You left the gym confused and with more energy than one would typically have after training with Steve Rogers. Luckily for you, Nat and Wanda noticed it too.

"What was that about?" Wanda asked as soon as the three of you were out of earshot.

"I don't have a clue." Your expression of complete confusion was enough to convince the two women you were telling the truth.

"I always thought Barnes had a thing for you. I wouldn't expect Steve of all people to try to mess that up. Especially with how obvious you are!" Nat chimed in. You've never regretted anything more than getting drunk and admitting your feelings for the brunette super soldier to the two women.

"Ugh, are the two of you ever gonna forget about that?" Your question was rhetorical as you nearly slammed the door to your room, but it didn't stop the two women from shouting "not a chance" and "only if you tell him" through the door.

The second time you noticed the weird behavior was the next day. You were running through some basic defense moves with some new Shield agents when Sam walked in with Bucky.

Now, normally Sam avoids you in the gym because he knows you'll kick his ass. All your time spent training with Nat mixed with your advanced perception skills meant you are a force to be reckoned with in the gym. This time though, he asked to spar before running through his typical warm up routine.

"You sure, Wilson? I wouldn't want to bruise your ego any further." You joked with him, unsure of his motives.

"Oh I'm sure, baby. Do your worst."

So you did. You had him on the mat in 4 minutes even, not letting the "baby" comment phase you until later in the night when you were with Wanda and Nat.

"First, Steve keeps calling me honey. Now Wilson is in on it with baby! What the hell is going on?'

The three of you shared identical shrugs, choosing to ignore it for now in favor of girls night.

Your days continued with the random comments from Sam and Steve. Of course, after the first 24 hours you noticed a pattern emerging. The two men would only use the pet names if Bucky was in the room. If Bucky couldn't overhear what was being said, everything was normal, but all bets were off if he so much as stepped in the room. It was constant affection and compliments from the two men.

You were thinking about the pattern you'd discovered, along with what it could mean, when Tony barged into the common room like a man on fire.

He surveyed the room, noting the presence of nearly every team member. The only three missing? Sam, Steve, and Bucky. You had a feeling they were most definitely up to something. "Oh perfect, most of you are here already! I have decided we don't do enough team building. Saving the world is stressful and we deserve to relax, so... drumroll please!" He waited for an extended period of time, until you, Wanda, and Vision gave him a lackluster drumroll. "That could use some work, but I'm not going to let it bring me down. We're doing karaoke! I rented out a bar for tonight, so clear your schedules ladies and gentlemen! We start at 8."

To say he was met with mixed results would be underselling the range of reactions. Nat looked ready to kill him. Thor was so excited, he reminded you of a golden retriever playing fetch. Most everybody else fell somewhere in the middle.

"Y/N, be a dear and let the three stooges know would ya? I don't know where they are and I don't feel like finding them." Tony didn't wait for a response before leaving the room just as rapidly as he entered it.

"I guess that's my cue. I'll be back and we can at least get ready together?" You looked to Nat and Wanda for confirmation before leaving to find Steve, Bucky, and Sam.

You checked Sam's room first because it's the closest to the common area, but there was no sign of life. Steve and Bucky's rooms sat similarly untouched. You went to the gym, the pool, the game room, and circled back to the kitchen but they were nowhere to be seen. Finally, you gave up the impromptu game of hide and seek asking FRIDAY where they were.

"FRIDAY, do you know where Steve, Bucky, and Sam are?"

"Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, and Lieutenant General Wilson are on the roof." The AI responded so fast, it had you wondering why didn't just ask her 40 minutes ago when their rooms were all empty.

"What the hell are they doing on the roof?" You huffed as you made your way back to the elevator.

"They are the discussing the terms of their bet." FRIDAY's response surprised you. You hadn't meant to actually receive an answer, but now that you did you were curious.

"What bet?" You continued the line of questioning as the elevator rose to the roof access point.

"The three made a bet to see who could get you to kiss them first."

Suddenly, all the pet names and compliments made sense.

"Son of a bi-" You cut yourself off as the elevator door opened, leading you directly to the three men in question. They turned abruptly, clearly caught off guard by anyone coming to the roof.

"Finally. I've been looking for you three everywhere!" You kept the new found information to yourself for the time being. "Tony decided we're doing karaoke tonight. We're supposed to be at the bar he rented out by 8pm." You smiled, taking in the slightly guilty expressions on each of their faces. Even if FRIDAY hadn't told you, it would be painstakingly obvious you caught them talking about you.

"Thanks doll, we'll make sure we're there." You felt the butterflies in your stomach at the pet name, but quickly shut it down. You wouldn't be giving in to their bet that easily.

"No problem, see you boys soon." You winked, pressing the button to bring you back to the main floor. You had a plan to make after all.

"Well, it's karaoke why don't you just sing a song to call them out on it?" Wanda suggested another idea as you all got ready to head to the bar.

"That could work. You just need the perfect song." Nat chimed in, quickly applying some mascara.

"Wanda, you're a genius, and I think I have just the one." You grinned, pulling the song up to play while you finished getting ready.

Upon entering the bar, you immediately started second guessing your plan. That is, until the pet names came out to play. Sam was back at it with calling you baby, and Steve right there beside him with honey.

When you put your name down to sing, Wanda and Nat were right there with you, hyping you up and providing some liquid courage. Four drinks in and you finally felt just tipsy enough to actually follow through with your plan.

With the encouraging words from Nat and Wanda playing through your mind, you walked up to the stage, pulling up your chosen song on the karaoke machine.

You decided to play the beginning of the song off as a coincidence, not wanting to clue the guys in too early.

"One, two, three have been staring at me. It's been going all night."

You made eye contact with Nat and Wanda, fully relying on the feminist in you to knock these guys down a few pegs. By the time the chorus rolled around, you were ready.

Making direct eye contact with Sam, you put as much sass as possible into the next line.

"My name isn't 'baby,' you cannot say whatever you feel like. I am not the things you call me."

Switching your target from Sam to Steve, you kept going with the performance.

"My name isn't 'honey,' I will always do whatever I feel like. Honestly, you don't know me."

Clearly the three of them realized you knew about their bet, but you were on a roll. Switching focus to Bucky, you switched up the words a little bit to put him on blast as well.

"My name isn't... doll. My name isn't... doll."

The girls must have filled in the rest of the group, because you now had Bruce, Thor, Vision, Tony, Pepper, Clint, Wanda, and Nat cheering you on. They were whopping and hollering in agreement with the lyrics.

"We ain't got the time for you messing around so cut the deal."

"Cut the deal!!" You heard Tony yelling out as an echo, shaking your head with a slight chuckle.

"So don't come here and say, 'boys will be boys.' Behind every act there's always a choice."

The three men in question at least had the decency to look ashamed of their actions. Of course, that wasn't enough for you to not put them on blast through another round of the chorus.

The high from calling them out wore off right around the line:

"Do you really think that you can get your way by playing the same game."

Singing those words made you realize exactly what just happened. You held it together, put up a front long enough to get through the last chorus. Singing the last line to Bucky, you felt like your emotions were all over your face. The annoyance that the bet existed. The pain at him being part of it. The love you'd been trying to hide. All of it felt like it was right out in the open.

"My name isn't... Doll. My name isn't, my name isn't... Doll."

You took a quick bow in thanks for all the applause, before running off the stage. You didn't stop at the table with Nat and Wanda, nor did you stop for the three men trying to apologize. You made it outside, running about five blocks before even taking in your surroundings. Noticing a McDonald's, you sent a quick prayer that the ice cream machine was actually functioning before ducking inside.

The team stood with mouths hanging open at your sudden departure.

"What the hell just happened?" Tony posed the question to the group, knocking them out of their stupor.

Bucky was the first to follow you outside, his panic growing when he didn't see you leaning against any of the brick walls.

"Where is she?" Steve asked, spinning in circles right alongside Bucky while the rest of the group filed out the door.

"I don't know!" Bucky turned on Steve and Sam. "I never should have agreed to that stupid bet. Dammit!" Running his hands through his hair, he took off down the street calling a quick, "I'll look this way" over his shoulder.

He moved quickly down the street, keeping his eyes peeled for your sparkly, dark red dress. He looked through the windows of the many store fronts as he passed them. About five blocks later, he was about to turn around, assuming you went a different direction when he saw the familiar golden "m". A memory from about three weeks ago was quick to flash through his mind.

The team just came back from a two and a half week mission yesterday, meaning Tony was bound to throw a party today. It went about the same as most Tony Stark parties go; a lot of schmoozing until most guests left and the team could actually let loose.

You let a little looser than normal at the after party. After the mission required you to pretend to be married to Bucky, you felt like you deserved it. It was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings from him, especially when he insisted on walking you to your room after the party.

In a last ditch effort to avoid any drunk escapades, you asked him to take you to McDonald's instead of your room.

"Please Bucky?" You asked, drawing out the words and adding a small pout for good measure. "I just want a McFlurry and some fries! Please!"

"Sure, doll. We can go to McDonald's." You jumped up and down clapping, hugging him as you praised him for being so kind.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the nicest, most perfect man to ever live. Let's gooooo!!" He smiled at your antics, leading you to one of the many cars Tony kept stocked, not quite trusting you to ride a motorcycle at the moment.

After getting the food, the two of you ate together in the car. You, of course, insisting he try dipping the fries in the ice cream.

Reluctantly, he admitted it wasn't that bad before driving the two of you home. He dropped you off at your door, receiving a whispered "thank you" and a quick kiss to the cheek from you.

He smiled at the memory before walking inside. He found you in a booth toward the back, unsurprisingly dipping fries into your ice cream

"Y/N, I'm so sorry." You didn't even look up when he started speaking, choosing instead to study the m&ms in your dessert. "Really. It was a stupid bet. Hell, I didn't even want to do it, but then that punk and birdman teamed up against me and I couldn't let them do it without me! It would've killed me to know one of them kissed you. It was so stupid and I should've just shut it down. I'm so sorry. You deserve so much more than that." He trailed off, waiting for you to say something.

You gestured to the seat across from you, pushing some fries toward him. "It was a stupid bet."

You waited until his mouth was full before asking "Why would it have killed you?" Watching him nearly choke on his fries was oddly satisfying.

"What?" He tried to deflect the question. You shook your head, passing him a napkin.

"You said it would have killed you to know one of them kissed me. Why?" You looked him in the eye as you ate another fry.

"Well, you see, I... um, maybe have um... feelings." It was his turn to stare intently at the m&ms. He mumbled a quick "get yourself together" under his breath before continuing. "I like you. Hell, I think I love you. I don't know when it started, but suddenly you are all I can think about. I worry about you constantly when your on a mission without me, even though I know you can take care of yourself. I see little things that remind me of you everywhere. Like yesterday, I saw a buttercup on the side of the road and I couldn't stop thinking about the time you spent a good twenty minutes ranting about how spring is the worst season."

Suddenly, you were on a tangent. "Because it is! It's always raining, it's muggy, it's always freezing in the morning and way too hot in the afternoon so you have to carry all these extra layers-"

"I love you. That's why it would've killed me. I don't even want to think about you with another-"

It was your turn to cut him off, doing so by leaning across the small table to kiss him. It was quick, but you still felt fireworks.

"I love you too." Your words were sweet, but shifted when you said the rest of your sentence. "I just have one more question." The smirk on your face made him nervous, but he was more than willing to answer anything.

"What do you get for winning?"

After talking with Bucky, you texted Nat and Wanda to let them know you were okay and the two of you were headed back to the compound. You beat everyone else back, but decided to wait for them in the common area.

Steve and Sam came in with their heads low, struggling to make eye contact.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. We never should have made that bet." Steve started, aware of all the eyes on him.

"Me too. It was stupid and thoughtless." Sam added on.

"It was, but you are forgiven." You reached for Bucky's hand, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Bucky told me the winner of your little bet gets to pick the music for all forms of travel on the next three missions." You grinned at their confused expressions. "Bucky, being the winner, has so graciously bestowed that gift to me now. Get ready boys. I'm talking High School Musical. Hamilton. I'll have the two of you singing Taylor Swift in the shower." You, along with the rest of the team, laughed at their expense. Their grim expressions had you smiling, "oh please, I know you secretly love it!"

"Now, I have to go to bed. I have a date tomorrow." You winked at Bucky before sauntering off down the hall, the cheers of your teammates following you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #marvel fic #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #tony stark #marvel

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raineydays411 · 4 years ago

Text

Ember

Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

Warning: Child neglect, swearing, angst, death

Summary: After being kidnapped by Hydra, Y/N does some reflecting on her home life. Especially her relationship with her father

italics = past pov

Bold= thoughts

Italic bold= ghosts

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You never thought your life would end like this. Alone, trapped in a Hydra cell, full of anger and resentment for the one man who was never supposed to break your heart. Of course, up until now you had been pretty optimistic your father would realize the error of his ways and miraculously spend years making up for years of missed recitals, ignored achievements, and multiple other offenses. You always forgave him because, hey the man was a member of the Avengers, what should you expect having Tony Stark as a father?

But right now, as you lay on the cold, damp floor, writhing in pain from whatever glowey nuclear shit those assholes injected you with, you can’t help but remember the mistreatment and neglect bestowed upon you by your father.

It was, it was September Winds blow, dead leaves fall

You’ll always remember that September day. The day your entire life had changed

You were only eight when Loki tried to take over New York. You and your mom were coming home from the store when all of a sudden, people around you started to panic. Looking up, you saw a large portal in a once clear blue sky. Creatures appeared out of no where, destroying anything in their way. Your mother, terrified, took you by the hand and headed for a near by building. But, it seemed that others had that idea as well. Before you knew it, your vision was overwhelmed by the bodies of citizens trying to escape the chaos outside. After a few seconds, you found yourself in a crowed parking garage and no idea where your mother was.

You never saw her again after that.

After three days of searching, the police declared her dead and you were sent to live with your godmother, Pamela Isely.

She was good to you. She held you through nightmares, told you stories about how your mother and her met, and even taught you how to take care of plants. The only complaint you had was that she would usually leave you alone every once in a while and come back with a lot of money, and occasionally, a loud blonde woman in a clown costume would come through the window and pinch your cheeks too hard. Other than that, you got adjusted to your new life quickly.

Four months passed and your life changed again. It was a cold September day, and you had just got home from school. As you walked into the apartment, you immediately felt a tension in the air, and you saw a man at the table with your Aunty Pam, who looked extremely uneasy and pale. They stared at you until your Aunt spoke.

“Y/N...you’re going back to New York.”

Those words alone made the floor fall from underneath you. You had just settled down. You finally felt comfortable without your mother in the world and now this?? Then the man cleared his throat, causing you to snap back into reality.

“Y/n, my name is Tony Stark”

You knew that name, he was the man in the metal suit who helped save New York. You didn’t care at the moment though, you just wanted to know why you were leaving your aunt.

Ignoring Tony, you looked at your aunt and whispered,

“ Did...did I do something wrong?”

Immediately, Pams eyes filled with tears as she quickly gathered you in her arms and responded with a loud,

“Oh no, darling of course not”, She then proceeded to tell you the uncomfortable looking man at the table was in fact your father, who up till now you had never met. In fact, you never even fathomed the idea of having a father as your mom had always told you that you were a gift from some fairies she helped. You turned to the man who quietly sat at the table and looked over the man who was said to be your father.

He was definitely a handsome man. He wore a fancy looking suit and some tinted glasses even though he was inside. His hair was dark brown and messy, as if he was tugging or running his fingers through it. His skin looked to be am olive color but it was hard to tell as he looked kind of pale in the light of the small apartment you called home. You thought it was odd he hadn’t said anything other than introducing himself.

“ Is it true? Are you really my dad?” You asked in a quiet voice.

He finally spoke, “Yeah kid, I’m your dad”

To you, I did surrender

Two weeks, you didn’t call

It’s been two weeks since you were taken by Hydra. Two weeks since you were injected with that mystery substance. You didn’t die, at least you don’t think you did. But you didn’t exactly feel alive either. You were colder than usual, like your body temperature lowered. You slept longer than normal especially the first three days after you were injected. The guards had to wake you up just to get you to eat. But the most worrying symptom of all is that your eyes were the same shade of neon blue as the liquid that was injected into your body. And everytime your eyes turned blue, something weird would happen.

For example, the first time you noticed your eyes were blue, you woke up from the first long sleep.The second time, you thought you heard voices, screaming in agony and despair.This was odd because you were the only one in that cell block. As you came back to reality, you realized that you could see other ghostly figures in the once empty cells, and that you were floating three feet above your bed.

Within the two weeks you were in that cell, you learned that that day you were injected, your heart did stop for an hour until you miraculously sprung back to life with a loud gasp, scaring the absolute shit out of the Hydra guards that were tasked with disposing your body. That would go through physical changes as well. Your once brown skin would change to a pale ghostly blue. And your black kinky hair would change to a shocking neon blue to match the color of your eyes.

For two weeks, you learned the ins and outs of your newfound powers. Two weeks of being pushed to your absolute limits by power hungry scientists. Two weeks of learning the names of the dead around you in those cells.

It took two weeks, to realize that your father truly didn’t care about you.

And looking back on it, you should’ve known

Your life, goes on without me My life, a losing game

It had been a year since you had moved into the Avengers Tower with your father. It had taken you a while to warm up to the team and for the team to get used to having a child around. But once you all got to know each other, it was like having multiple aunts and uncles. Especially because you were around them more than your own father.

Unfortunately, once you had settled in and gotten to know everyone, Tony had locked himself away in his lab. Tinkering on a new project for weeks on end, ignoring his responsibilities as a new father.

Now, this didn’t really affect you till you started school. Tony had forgotten to pick you up multiple times, causing you to wait for hours on end till either Steve or Pepper realized that you hadn’t come home and rushed to the school , only to see you waiting on the front steps talking the ear off of the unlucky teacher who had to stay behind to wait with you.

Of course word got around that Y/N Stark was being forgotten at school everyday, thus prompting the kids at school to taunt you everyday after school.

“Where's your daddy Y/N??”

“I bet he leaves you here so you can get kidnapped so he doesn’t have to look at you”

“Your own dad doesn’t even love you”

Once you got to middle school, you joined as many after school clubs to hide the fact that there was no one to pick you up. And a small part hoped that it would be enough to gain your fathers attention. But it didn’t happen.

“Daddy! I made the volleyball team!”

“hmm, oh that's great kid, can you pass me that wrench”

“Dad! I’m in the robotics club”

“Y/N I’m really busy right now”

“ Hey dad...can you help me with--”

“Not now, go ask Pepper”

No matter what you did, you could never get his attention long enough. Nothing you did was good enough. You never got so much as a “welcome home” or a “ have a good day at school kiddo”. And you were fine with that. You were, because you knew that even though he didn’t show it, Tony Stark really did love you.

But you should, you should not doubt me You will remember my name.

After learning the extent of your powers, which included; flying,the ability to talk and see the dead, energy blasts, floating through walls, and the ability to shut off your powers at will. You decided it was time for you to make plans to escape.

You’d like to think that you were really good at pretending.

You did it on a daily basis, really. You pretended to be happy, not to notice Tony’s neglect, like you didn’t see the pity glances the rest of the team gave you. So convincing your captors that they finally broke you down wasn’t really a challenge.

“....fine..i’ll help you” You said in a tired weak voice.

The two guards were startled at first, not expecting you to speak so suddenly

“You..what?” The younger of the two asked in a suspicious tone.

“I said I want to help you” you repeated a little louder.

The first guard looked to the second, obviously confused at your sudden change of heart. They had a silent conversation with their eyes, as if debating on whether this was a trick or not. Finally, the older of the two turned to you and said,

“This better not be a trick, Stark.”

And with that, he started to unlock the door to your cell.

“Okay, now I can either fight them now and make a break for it, or I can wait till i get to the--”

Your thoughts were cut off by a loud wailing, piecing your ears and automatically giving you a headache. Wincing in pain you look around the empty cell blocks and try to locate the spirit that’s making all that noise. When you see it, your heart breaks. It’s a young boy, around your age. The first thing you notice about him is that he had white hair, kinda Danny Phantom. As you continued to stare at the boy, his head suddenly turned and you both made eye contact, the movement startling you enough to make you jerk in the hold of the guards

“ HEY, eyes forward!” shouted the older guard. “There's no way out, if that's what you're looking for’ He said in a smug tone.

“I said I wanted to join you, why would I want to escape?” You reply, irritation dripping from your words.

“Just don’t pull any tricks kid.”

God does he have any other lines, you think to yourself mentally rolling your eyes. Sounds familiar.

Oh Ember, you will remember

Oh Ember, one thing remains

“Y/N I’m busy, go as--” “I know, go ask Pepper”

“Oh kid, I’m sorry I forgot” “ yeah, I know”

“You’re on the volleyball team” “ yes dad. For four years now”

“Y/N! I’m gonna be in the lab with Peter so try not to bother us.”

“Y/N me and Peter--”

“Good job, Peter”

“Hey Peter--”

God were you tired of that name. You never ever felt the feeling of envy and anger as much as you did when Peter came into your life.

In fact, you were still healing from almost losing your family you found in the Avengers. Your dad didn’t want you around the “traitors” as he privately called them, so you were secluded. Watching them from afar and yearning for the comfort of hearing Steves pre-war stories, helping Clint pull off the most ridiculous pranks, helping Wanda teach Vision how to cook, and most of all you missed talking to Natasha. She reminded you of your aunt Pam, mainly because they both had red hair. You hoped that your father would understand this loss and step up now that you really needed a connection, but no. He decided that Peter Parker deserved all his attention. So you stopped trying as hard.

Oh Ember, So warm and tender You will remember my name

You walk into a room with a singular table and no windows. Sat at the table was a bald man writing in a notebook. The two guards lead you to the table and make you sit opposite of the bald man. He looks up at you and smiles.

“So, Ms. Stark has finally decided to comply?” He asks in a smug tone. You roll your eyes and answer back in a sarcastic tone,

“Yeah yeah, just cut the crap and tell me what you want me to do.”

The bald man just smiles and looks at you, as if trying to read your mind to figure out your motives.

“Well”, he says, leaning back into his chair. “Lets get down to business.” He then proceeds to talk about the process of join his team and what you will be doing. But you don’t hear a word of it. Because you were going to escape this hell hole one way or another.

“Well then, lets get you changed.” said the bald man. “Yeager, Jennings, take our guest to to her new room.

“Huh so they do have names.” You think, as they pull you out of the chair and into the hallway. Walking back into the cell block, you make eye contact with that white haired boy again. He’s quiet as he watches you walk back to your room, then he disappears.

You finally get back to your cell and notice a pair of black spandex, black halter top, grey boots and some black gloves on the floor. Changing into them, you take your hair into a pineapple with a hair tie they had given you. Looking into the piece of metal you used as a mirror, you changed into your ghost form. Suddenly, you hear a male voice behind you.

“Don’t let them know you can do that.”

You startle and turn around, only to see none other than the white haired boy. He looked equally as startled as he realized you can see and hear him.

“Why not?” you asked, changing back to your normal self.

“Because, they won’t ever let you leave.You’re already the first one to survive the injection. If they realize you can go ghost, they’ll do everything in their power to control you.”

Your mind flashed to Bucky. How Steve told you that they kept him. Brainwashing him over and over till he just became a weapon. You were not going to let them do that to you. You looked back at the boy.

“Can you help me get out of here?” you asked hopefully. The boy looked at you and said,

“Well I’ve got nothing else to do.” You let go a sigh of relief. You were about to say something when you heard Yeager and Jennings walking down the hallway.

“They’re coming” You whisper, “ what do I do?”

“This base is small. All the people here are the only ones who know about it. They’re all going to be in the training room you’re being taken to. Wait till you get there, phase into the floor to the basement and blow up the heater. That should cause the whole building to cave in”

You again don’t get to respond, as the two men finally get to your cell and unlock it. You walk out of the cell, head held high and allow them to lead you to the training room. Despite the look of confidence, you were dreading the next few moments.

“So how come I’m the only one here?” you ask, even though you know the answer. The older guard looks at you and says

“You’re the only one who survived.” You fake a look of shock and look forward as if the news made you uneasy. And it did. It made you mad that these people didn’t care that they were murdering innocent people. They couldn’t hear the cries and the wails of agony these poor trapped souls emitted. In a way, it was ironic. Back at the tower, you were the poor soul nobody could see. And now you were surrounded by them.

Your heart, your heart is rendered Your loss, now bear the shame

This was the last straw. There was only so much you an take before you broke and this was it.

Tony didn’t intend for you to hear it, but god did it hurt all the same. One phrase shattered your whole world.

“You know Spiderling, your kinda like the kid I always wanted to have.”

An tense silence filled the common room. The first time in months you were able to see th eteam and they had to bear witness to this. Of course they did, who else would give you that stare full of sorrow and pity. You barely even noticed though. You were too busy looking at the “heartwarming scene.”

“that's such bullshit” Oh, how you wish you had a camera if only to capture the look of pure “oh shit” painted on Steve's face.

“What..what was that kid?” Asks your father. You turn to him, a fury in your eyes that nobody has ever seen.

“THAT IS ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT.” You scream. “ FOR EIGHT YEARS I HAVE TRIED SO HARD FOR YOU TO LOVE ME. EIGHT YEARS I JOINED CLUBS, GOT THE HIGHEST GRADED IN CLASS AND FOR WHAT?”

Tony and Peter look at you in shock “Y/n..wha..what are you talking about?” Peter asks in a baffled voice.

“Oh eat shit Peter! You know exactly what I’m talking about! Do you not find it weird, that your new mentor spends every single second of free time he has on you and not with his daughter?? Or are you so needy for some sort of parental validation that you don’t even care??”

Deep down you know it’s not Peters fault. Hell, you two probably could have been good friends if your dad wasn’t such a tool.

“Hey kid, I don’t know what's gotten into you, but that was way over the line.” Said Tony in a stern voice. Your eyes harden.

“Oh, did I hurt your poor little spiders feelings?? I didn’t even know you cared about other peoples feelings Tony? Or is it just your daughters that you ignore ?”

“What are you talking about? I don’t ignore you, stop being so over dramatic.”

OVERDRAMATIC?? DO YOU REALIZE THE ONLY THING YOU KNOW ABOUT ME IS MY NAME??” You are now sobbing. “ Do you even know my favorite color? How old I am?”

Tony looks at you, eyes wide.”Y/N...” You cut him off

“Just forget it. I understand now. I will never be important to you. Not like Peter apparently is. I just wish it didn't take me eight years to figure that out.” And with that, you run out of the room, tears running down your cheeks and ignoring the calls of your father, the team, and Peter.

You run for a few blocks and cry in an alleyway. not the smartest idea but you were too upset to care. And as you cry, you don’t notice the dark shadow behind you before its too late and the world goes dark.

Like dead trees, in cold december Nothing but ashes remain

The hydra base was now engulfed with flames. Your body was tired from phasing through the walls, and your head hurts from those energy blasts. But one thing brings some happiness in your heart as you watch all the souls that were trapped there realize they are free. All but one, the white haired kid. He walks up to you.

“So you did it.” He says with a smile. You smile back.

“Yeah I did. Thanks to you.”

“Blue suits you.” he says with a blush. You squint at him for a second and let out a chuckle.

“Thanks” ,You’re both silent for a few seconds, watching the souls leave. You speak up again.

“Why aren’t you leaving like them” You question him.

“I don’t know, I guess my time here isn’t up.” he says looking out at the horizon. You nod and look at around trying to figure out where you are.

“So, what are you going to do next” he asks. Your body stiffens as you are filled with resentment.

“I’m going to visit my father.” You say, eyes glowing a neon blue.

You will remember my name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: HI!so this is my first ever fanfic! i hope anyone who reads this enjoys it!! Let me know what you think and what i can improve on!💕

#tony stark x daughter!reader #danny phantom #fanfic #marvel #marvel x reader #reader insert #tony stark #tony stark imagine #peter parker x stark!reader #the avengers #poc reader #avengers x teen!reader #x reader #danny phantom x reader #steve rogers x reader #crossover #poison #poison ivy

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nctsworld · 4 years ago

Text

the yuletide boyfriend

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ your one wish this year is to not be single during the holidays. yangyang, as your best friend, takes it upon himself to be your temporary boyfriend. soon enough, both parties begin to wish this new arrangement could last beyond the holidays. // part of the x-mas in ncity collection WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ implied ‌anxiety attack (during the first part of dec 24th – skip if need to), smut, mutual m*sturbation, couch s*x, angst, miscommunication, swearing RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ this is my longest fic to date and also... might be my worst b/c i feel like the angst plot points don’t really make sense... but i hope y’all still enjoy!!!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

NOVEMBER 30th

“So, anything special on your wishlist this year?”

Your best friend, Yangyang, asks you as you two sit next to each other on one of the many plush lounge couches in the Psychology building. It’s the usual lunch spot where you meet with him during your break between lectures.

The Psych building held much sentimental value for both of you because you met in Psych 101 during first year. Fast-forward three years later, neither of you expected to be the close friends that you are today.

Chewing your sandwich, you ponder on his question for a bit. Through the transparent glass walls leading to outside, you see the trickle of students heading towards the building since class is about to start for the noon round of lectures. A couple, you assume by the tight hand-holding and nose kissing, giggles as they enter the building, glued to one another by the hip.

“Not really.” You drop your head downward to your lunch container, smiling to yourself. “I’m honestly just happy to have Mark in my life, especially at this point in the year.”

Yangyang nods in accordance and smiles too, understanding the story behind your sentiment.

The boyfriends you’ve had since first year have always broken up with you before the holidays, right before the end of November. Since you only became close during second year, Yangyang’s been around for two out of three of your cursed holiday break-ups.

To have Mark, your latest boyfriend, be with you and it being already December tomorrow, it was truly a blessing for you and a silver lining that maybe this was the year to break the curse. Yangyang was grateful too, wanting you to have the utmost happiness.

You take another bite of your sandwich and tilt your chin toward the ramen eater.

“You?”

Yangyang slurps a few more noodles before he answers.

“I mean, the new Playstation would be nice,” he hums, mouth full.

Pointing the tip of your sandwich, you joke, “I’ll get it for you, but only if we share custody over it.”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head during a mid-slurp. “You know I can’t promise that.”

Both of you laugh in unison, living in the calm before the oncoming storm.

DECEMBER 5th

The E-Sports club for the university is hosting a party tonight and because Yangyang’s on one of the professional teams, he asked a few weeks ago if you and Mark wanted to attend. Of course you accepted; Mark also had some friends in the club.

However, when you text Yangyang in the afternoon, stating a change of mind, he knows something’s off.

Half an hour before the party starts, Yangyang decides to visit you. Thankfully you both lived on campus, but even if you lived across town, he’d still bus out to see how you were doing. He does it all the time to visit his family, anyway.

In the living room, the two sudden knocks at your door startle you. Peering through the peephole, you see the usual sight of your best friend, his lips curled upward and thumbs tucked in his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

It feels like an eternity for him when you unlock your door. The hinges squeal as you open it hesitatingly, your face barely appearing through the agape crack.

Immediately, his smile dissolves. Your face is drained and blood-shot eyes avoiding his own confront him.

Yangyang has only seen you cry twice in the three years he’s known you:

Once, when you were freaking the fuck out over potentially failing a course (but, on the upside, you ended up passing the final to save your grade).

The second time was at his house for a family dinner, when his mom accidentally added too much hot chili sauce to her homemade beef noodle soup (let’s just say you weren’t the only one crying that night).

Those were tears of dread and physical discomfort.

But this… this was crying he’s never seen from you before. His chest collapses inward, fearful of the reason behind your tears.

His voice shakes as he asks, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Neither of you are major huggers and only exchange them on the rare occasion.

However, this situation screams the necessity of it, so Yangyang lunges towards you, the collision swinging the door out of the way. His arms embrace you like a large, warm blanket. Comforting and safe.

Despite the affection, emptiness has taken over your body. Tonight, you’re a dead, empty shell of who you normally are.

You feel weak to the bone, but you muster up enough energy to scarcely raise your arms over his back to return the hug. Your eyes are dry from all the crying you’ve done all day, but apparently you have more tears left in you to spare.

Your eyelids snap shut and your jaw clenches.

“Mark broke up with me.”

Your words are muffled into his shoulder, but Yangyang hears it crystal clear.

You break down, sobbing out of control over the statement.

As aforementioned, Yangyang’s been around for your last two, now three, break-ups. Sure, he’s aware of how grumpy and distant you can get, but you never cried in front of him. You made an effort to never have him see you at your lowest point.

And yet, here you are, drowning him in your misery. Guilt washes over you for drenching his bomber jacket, but Yangyang couldn’t give two shits. His arms squeeze tighter while he rubs your back tenderly.

After several minutes pass and your waterworks abate, you peel away from him. You sniffle and rub your nose with the back of your hand.

“Sorry about cancelling last minute.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” he whispers soothingly.

“I’m just… so fucking frustrated.”

With fatigued eyes, you drag yourself back inside your apartment. Yangyang discreetly closes the door behind him and hurriedly uses his feet to push off his shoes. As he does so, your mouth begins to run off while you slowly pace around aimlessly.

“Fucking done with boyfriends, especially when they think it’s so fucking awesome to keep breaking up with me right before the holidays.”

He kicks off his last stubborn shoe and catches you raking your hands through your hair, pulling it back firmly. Your lips are trembling, along with your entire frame.

“Like I get that I’m horrible and needy and emotional—”

His mouth opens, wanting to cut in to disagree with you with all his heart, but he clamps it back shut and swallows, allowing you to blow your steam off.

“—but can’t they wait until the fucking new year? I don’t know, or maybe just don’t date me in the first place! I don’t know, I don’t fucking know anymore. I’m just cursed, Yangyang...”

You flop down onto the couch and sink into the ocean of shiny pleather, shutting your eyes and trying to stop crying for the nth time. The deep sting behind your eyelids pain you, but it pains Yangyang more to watch the events unfolding ahead of him.

Unsure of what to say, Yangyang walks around the room. His gaze falls on your laptop screen and he frowns at the mostly bare Word document that stares back at him:

“WISHLIST: -KEEP ONE (1) FUCKING BOYFRIEND DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON!!!!!!!! GOD FUCKING SDKMFLDS”

There are a few more lines below it with more profanities and keyboard smashing. He quickly darts away, a pang of guilt striking for invading your privacy.

Then, he turns to you on the couch again. You’re now covering your eyes with your forearm, pressing your lips together. His chest twists and his throat is arid as a desert.

You’re in shambles and he’s dying to pick up the shattered pieces of you, wants to glue you back together. On a regular basis, Yangyang’s a talking machine and can talk your ear off for hours, but right now, he doesn’t know what to say to you in your current state. He second-guesses himself, wonders if he’s even that great of a friend if he can’t comfort you in your worst times.

Blowing out a long sigh and removing your arm, you speak aloud, “You should get going to the party.”

Like awakening from a deep slumber, you rise up sluggishly and sit up on the couch, slouched over. The other figure in the room steps closer to you.

“Sorry about your jacket, by the way,” you say. Your body is still, but your glazed eyes move to the dark spot on the middle of his shoulder. He glances at it and shrugs.

“It’s better like this anyway,” he says with a gentle smile, and the tight knot in his heart softens at the flicker of your own smile, albeit a small one. Unfortunately, it fades in a few seconds. “I don’t want to leave you like this, though.”

You stare at the used, crumpled balls of tissues scattered on the living room table. Some also ended up on the floor. Break-ups are shit and 98% inevitable, but you know you’ll eventually get over it. You always do.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

He raises an eyebrow, as if asking, “Are you sure?” The lack of a worded reply causes you to notice the question written on his face.

“Go,” you plead with a feeble laugh. “Have fun for me.”

Both of you head towards your front door again. Crossing your arms, you lean your head against the door frame and attempt a smile for your best friend.

“Thanks again for checking up on me.”

Yangyang nods with a half-smile, half-pout, “Of course.”

You give him a departing wave prior to sealing your door.

Usually, Yangyang would bus from your place to the student union building, where the party is being held. Instead, he zippers up his jacket and stuffs his fists into his pockets, opting to bear the early winter chill to walk his thoughts off. His blazing self-doubt burns at first, but he overcomes it by focusing on ideas to fix your accursed dating rut instead.

Halfway through the walk, a light bulb moment occurs. A plan begins to brew on the surface of his mind and he thinks on it for the rest of the week.

DECEMBER 11th

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Yangyang.

Finals started already, so classes were done for the semester and thus, your lunch meet-ups halted too. On top of that, since you were simultaneously moping and studying, you hadn’t really texted him much, nor had he, besides the occasional check-up text on how studying was going and random memes. Yangyang knew you preferred time alone to heal and he respected that.

He also thought six days was enough time to get yourself back on your feet.

Yangyang’s at your front door once again, but this time with two bowls of his mom’s beef noodle soup in tow.

“Long time, no see,” you greet. Your tone is chipper, but your eyes look heavy, which could be partially from studying, Yangyang thinks. His smile deepens, content that you seem a lot better than the last time he visited.

“Delivery for two,” he raises the bag in his hand.

“And if I told you I already ate dinner?” you playfully retort.

The boyish man shrugs defeatedly, “Then I’ll tell my mom you hate her cooking—”

“You didn’t say it was your mom’s, Yangyang. Oh, my God,” you gasp, half-mockingly. You rush to grab the bags out of his hand and stroll towards your tiny kitchen. “Start off with that next time.”

As you remove the containers from the bag and onto the granite countertop, Yangyang shuts the door and takes his shoes off.

“So, I’m gonna be upfront and say that I may have come here with a proposal.”

“Changed your mind about the shared custody of the Playstation?”

“I’m still considering that one.” Finally in his socks, he slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it onto the couch along with his jacket. He stands next to you by the counter. “But it’s on the same page as that. Remember that day we were talking about wishlists?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum as you rip off the lid of one of the bowls. Blatant wisps fly upward and you inhale the savoury aroma, followed by a heavenly sigh.

“Last time I was here… I might’ve seen what you wrote on your laptop.”

Your expression immediately changes into full-on cringe. You bring a palm over to your face.

“Oh, God. Let’s not talk about that. That was just weepy, lonely me talking.”

Yangyang pops off the lid for his bowl and steps into your kitchen, rummaging through your drawers for chopsticks. “So you’re telling me you don’t want a boyfriend for Christmas?”

Your hand flies off your face. Eyes widening, you spew, “Do you have a boyfriend in your pocket, ready for me to have?”

In your open hand, he places a pair of chopsticks into it. “Well, actually, I was thinking—”

Sternly, you point the chopsticks at him. “Don’t you dare set me up with your friends.”

He counters and points his at you, “Even better than that.”

With your interest piqued, you slide yourself onto the counter stool and mix the noodles around, anticipating to hear Yangyang’s fantastic plan. Your friend sits on the other stool, facing you. He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath.

“Why don’t I be your boyfriend for the holidays?”

You freeze, and the noodles’ drips above your bowl are deafening to both individuals. Laughing awkwardly, you break your frozen state to drop your chopsticks and turn your head to look at him.

Sputtering, you say, “What?”

Unnerved, his mouth pinches to one side, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place. This was stupid, so stupid, but it’s out in the open and Yangyang already dug his grave—he may as well lay in it.

“Well, for one, it’s something on your wishlist that I can easily get,” he pauses mid-sentence, glancing upward in thought. “Well, really, fill? Is that a better way to put it?”

He continues, eyes back on you, “And two, I’m not setting you up with a stranger or someone you wouldn’t be comfortable with. I assume you know me well enough that you’re comfortable around me?”

Yangyang lifts an upturned palm and raises an eyebrow, waiting for a response to his assumption. Petulantly, you shake your head playfully and stick out your tongue at him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze drops down to the floor for his last point. His voice lowers.

“And, I don’t know, we’d just hang out like we usually do during that time, except we’d do more couple-y things.”

Realizing the implication of his words, he widens his eyes. “I mean, we'll do whatever you’re comfortable with, obviously. We don’t have to do any of the physical stuff—”

You burst into a giggle at his rambling and hold a hand out, cutting him off. “Okay, Yang. I get it.”

Yangyang watches your next moves carefully. You’re peering off to one side and picking at the tips of your fingers. After a minute that feels like forever, you nod slowly.

“I guess you have a point. We are sorta like a couple already.”

Your best friend sighs in relief, grinning that you’re not outright rejecting the idea.

“So,” you meet his eyes and bunch a shoulder up towards your ear. “We’ll just be a couple until what, New Year’s?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs indifferently. “Whatever you want. It’s your Christmas wish.”

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief that you two are actually making an agreement for Yangyang to be your temporary, holiday boyfriend.

Honestly, it’s a little crazy... but maybe it’s the perfect thing to get your mind off of Mark and the handful of holiday exes hanging above your head.

“Okay, since my last final is on the 21st, let’s start ‘dating’ then and we’ll play everything by ear, see how it goes.”

Yangyang bobs his head eagerly. “Sounds good, soon-to-be girlfriend.”

He sticks a hand out for you to shake. You take it firmly, sealing the deal and flashing him a grin.

“Soon-to-be boyfriend.”

Although the night goes on like usual between the two of you, you couldn’t deny how ecstatic you are to finally have a boyfriend during the holidays, even if it was technically your best friend as a stand-in.

DECEMBER 21st

Tonight’s your first date with Yangyang.

That sounds weird to say, you admit to yourself, but it’s the truth.

After you stroll out of your last final of the semester, Yangyang’s waiting for you inside near the main exit of the building with several layers on, including his hoodie over his head and a knitted scarf underneath. His attention leaves his phone and he stuffs it into pocket as he notices you heading over.

“Hey, girlfriend,” he welcomes you, beaming.

You snicker at the unfamiliar label. You wonder if you’re going to get used to this, even if it’s only for two weeks.

“Hey, boyfriend,” you grin harder as the word falls from your lips, trying your best not to outright burst into laughter. “Where we heading off to?”

Although you said both of you could play the dating by ear, Yangyang’s been keen on scheduling plans for the upcoming days. You told him he didn’t have to, however, he insisted by saying that he wouldn’t only be a horrible boyfriend, but a horrible friend if he couldn’t make the next weeks fun for you.

Yangyang was anything but a horrible friend, and the fact that he was willing to be your holiday boyfriend to make you happy proved it further. Nevertheless, you gladly let him take the reins.

“I was thinking the movies tonight? See the latest Marvel film?”

Concurring to the idea, you scurry towards the bus stop and are movie-theatre bound to the nearest one off-campus. Arriving at the theatre, Yangyang and you buy your tickets and a popcorn to share, then head into the respective auditorium where the movie is playing. Since the movie’s been running for a couple of weeks, the auditorium is fairly empty, giving you two the chance to snag perfect middle seats with nobody else is in the row.

Up to this point, aside from the name-dropping of boyfriend and girlfriend, this feels less like a date and more like any other hang-out with him. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing awkward.

But that changes during a third of the movie.

You’re both so immersed by the screen that neither party notices the other’s hand when both of you reach for the popcorn in Yangyang’s lap at the same time.

A jolt runs through as your hands brush together. The duo’s eyes tear away from the screen and flit to the action happening in real-time. The touch lingers for several moments.

“Sorry,” you quickly mumble, drawing your hand back slightly, but still hovering over the popcorn.

“Uhm,” Yangyang licks his lips and visibly gulps under the screen’s bright glare.

He whispers, his voice almost cracking, “As your boyfriend, can I hold your hand?”

Okay, this is just your best friend, acting as your temporary boyfriend, asking to hold your hand. No big deal, no big deal at all.

Yet, the thunderous knocking in your ears, louder than the explosions blasting through the theatre’s speakers, suggests otherwise.

You don’t even register it, but you’re already nodding in response. Your breathing slows to the rate of Yangyang’s hand inching over. At the anticipated contact, you gasp softly. His smooth fingers clasp over yours. Since the arm rest in the middle of you is positioned upward, there’s no obtrusion and you relax, letting your hands mingle in between the empty space.

Without looking at one another, both of you smile bashfully to yourselves as you try to continue to focus on the screen.

After a while, because you aren’t exactly holding hands, you spread your fingers, hastily doing so because you don’t want him to think you’re breaking the interaction, and twist your palm to properly interlock hands with him. You give Yangyang’s hand a warm, gentle squeeze. He does the same and even strokes his thumb against your skin.

Talk about playing everything by ear. Who knew you’d be hand in hand on the first date?

You attempt to not think much on it, but Yangyang’s hand in yours feels... so right, like your hand was made for this, for his to hold. Like you should’ve done this way sooner.

And if Yangyang’s thoughts could be heard, he’s thinking the same.

Despite the mutual fear of sweaty palms, neither of you desire to let go, so much that you not only hold hands during the rest of the movie, but throughout the bus ride back to campus and all the way until he escorts you to your front door.

With a certain charge in the atmosphere, you exchange sweet good-byes. That night, after the culmination of stress from finals and your worries of your holiday exes, you finally have a peaceful sleep, looking forward to your date with Yangyang tomorrow.

DECEMBER 22nd

“Babe, how do I look?”

“Very pretty, honey.” A bundled up Yangyang winks at you from behind his phone.

The second date is an evening at a Christmas light festival at a botanical garden on the outskirts of town. The lights illuminate so strongly; there was a glowing dome-like hue over the location that seemed to reach the dark sky as you got off the bus.

When stepping foot into the garden, all the encompassing lights mesmerize you. Lights on the various greenery, lights as decorative art pieces, lights lining the pathways. Different shades of colours and shapes engulf the massive area.

Yangyang’s currently in the middle of taking your photo near an arch tangled with dark blue, gold, and white bulbs. All night long, you’ve been mockingly using endearing terms, but, despite the frigid air, your cheeks heat up over something else he just said.

“You think I’m pretty?” you genuinely ask, breaking your pose.

He lowers his phone a bit, his jaw dangling.

“Uh, I mean,” he giggles awkwardly, nodding softly. “Yeah.”

Yangyang never told you, but he initially sat near you in Psych 101 because he thought you were the most stunning girl in the class. And sure, he was a little disappointed at the time to find out you had a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you two couldn’t still be friends. Other than the first few weeks he had a crush on you, he’s never thought of you as more than a friend.

But those feelings are resurfacing, hitting him in the chest like a bag of bricks, due to moments like this one—you’re batting your eyelids, gaze straying elsewhere, and adorably chewing on your lower lip.

“And you’re not just saying that as my holiday boyfriend?”

Pouting to one side, he shakes his head cutely. “Mm-mm.”

On the flipside, the beginning with Yangyang for you was strictly platonic. You were dating Haechan at the time you met him. When Haechan broke up with you later that fall, you kept a distance from dating for a while, heartbroken from the high school love gone sour. During that period, you never told him, but you did run through the possibility of dating Yangyang since you got along so well... until you met Jaemin earlier the next semester, who stole your heart. Ever since then, you’ve never seen Yangyang under that light again.

Despite that, you can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that you’re single and technically dating him, you embrace the fact with open arms.

Beaming as bright as the lights, you tug him by the end of his puffer jacket’s sleeve to bring him closer to you.

“C’mon, handsome, let’s take some pictures together.” Prickles rise under Yangyang’s cheeks from the off-hand compliment.

Holding your phone up in the air at about an arm’s length away, the side of your heads touch to prepare for a few selfies. When you finish capturing them, Yangyang’s hovering over your shoulder as you scroll through to glance through the photos.

“We look good together,” you comment. “Don’t you think?”

In sync, your heads turn to meet each other. Your eyes waver from the blatant clouds of your breaths and over to his lips. The clouds become rapid bursts as you begin to lean forward. So does Yangyang.

“Do you guys want a picture together?” someone suddenly asks. The abrupt voice drags you both apart instantly, crushing the moment into pieces.

“Sure,” you peep, fumbling to hand your phone over to the stranger.

Posing, Yangyang’s hand rests around the middle of your back, which is the norm when you take pictures with him, but he pulls you in snugly. You smile even wider, relishing in the new-level of intimacy and allow yourself to be truly content among his presence.

“You guys are such a cute couple,” the stranger gushes while they return your phone prior to walking away.

“I guess we are, huh, babe?” you jut your tongue out in jest at him. This time, you indulge in the endearing term without a sliver of mockery.

Yangyang copies you, jutting his tongue out further than yours, and seizes your hand to continue the tour around the gleaming garden.

The almost-kiss isn’t mentioned for the rest of the night, nor is it acted upon, but both individuals dwell on the near occurrence before sleep that evening, staring longingly at their bedroom ceiling.

DECEMBER 23rd

For the third date, you find yourselves at the campus’ dedicated ice rink arena to partake in ice skating.

You’ve skated a few times in the past, but you’re by no means a pro. On the other hand, this is apparently Yangyang’s first time, and he’s already skating circles around you.

“Show off,” you grumble as he does another lap past you. Your gloved hands are splayed out in front of you, careful not to fall flat on your face.

Turning on his blades, he rebounds over to you.

“Sorry,” he pants. His raised cheeks glow an adorable shade of pink. “This is really fun when you get the hang of it.”

Yangyang intertwines his fingers with yours before you can say anything. “C’mon, take my hand.”

At first, it was sweet to skate alongside your holiday boyfriend, notwithstanding the few times you almost trip. As the minutes pass, you think you’re getting the hang of it, but suddenly, Yangyang unleashes your hand and glides ahead of you, abandoning you to slide at a swift pace that is definitely out of your comfort zone.

“Yangyang, what the fuck?!” you screech, completely disregarding the handful of surrounding parents with their kids, the former sending daggers your direction. Your ankles struggle to make a T-shape to stop, but the struggling only somehow makes you move faster.

As he spins to face you, now skating backwards with ease, he says, “See, you got the hang of it-oomph—”

Air’s struck from his lungs when you crash into his body. Thankfully, Yangyang skids his blades harshly against the ice and is able to steady and support you within his arms.

“You little fucker,” you gripe, lightly punching him in the arm.

He chuckles blithely, “Sorry, but it was kinda funny, you gotta admit.”

You breathe a large huff, which makes you note how your hair is falling over your face after the catastrophe. You’re about to lift your hand to rearrange the strands, but Yangyang beats you to it and is in the midst of tucking them behind your ear.

The knocking in your ears reappears with a vengeance and the physical source of the knocking is thrashing violently against your chest.

Your scorching breaths fuse in the refrigerated rink as Yangyang eliminates the inches of space between, his plush mouth ultimately converging with yours.

You have to constantly remind yourself to breathe under Yangyang’s intensity, and remind yourself that you’re in a public space and shouldn’t be making out like this.

But everyone’s skating around the couple, daring to not disrupt the affectionate display.

God, you don’t know when was the last time you’ve been kissed like this. Have you ever even experienced a kiss that was a fraction of this? Yangyang daintily cups your cheeks like you’re glass, but his lips press ruggedly into yours, inflaming your entirety and melting any existence of your figurative fragility.

You ignore the echo in the back of your mind that reminds you he’s your temporary boyfriend.

The Talk will inevitably occur, but your future self could deal with it. Presently, you’re too caught up, drowning in Yangyang’s embrace.

DECEMBER 24th

On Christmas Eve, Yangyang decides to bring you to an outdoor Christmas market.

Understandably, since it’s the day before Christmas, the place is absolutely packed. For the first fifteen minutes or so, it’s joyous being immersed in the Christmas spirit with the assorted little shops and their respective products. You’re holding Yangyang’s hand tightly, pointing and half-shouting over the bustle about the items that catch your eye.

Unfortunately, someone accidentally bumps against your arms and your hand is gone from his.

Swivelling your head, searching through the crowd, it occurs to you that you officially lost Yangyang.

Your feet come to a halt as your hand attempts to dig into your jacket pocket to pluck your phone out, but the moving crowd forces you to constantly follow the stream.

You yell for him, but words can’t materialize. Your windpipe tightens. Your breath is becoming shallower and shallower. Blood pulses in your ears alarmingly, blocking out the clamour from around you. Your mind’s running everywhere without control.

Where is your boyfriend?

No, scratch that, he’s not your actual boyfriend—where is your best friend?

Did he leave you? He would never.

Right?

But what happens when all of this is over? Will you still have your best friend?

You’ve avoided The Talk long enough, but you didn’t expect to catch feelings for him. Not like this.

Maybe you’re just destined to be alone.

Is this how it feels to actually lose him?

Tears fight your vision. You hear a faint call of your name, but you can’t urge yourself to turn around, sinking only further into the sea of anonymity. You’re just a face in a crowd, all alone, with no one who cares—

Yangyang grasps you by the arm and maneuvers you aside to a less busy area behind one of the vendor stands.

“Oh, God, thought I lost you there—”

You cut him off, hugging him with all your might and stuff your face in his chest cushioned by the downy layers of his winter jacket. Yangyang immediately drapes his arms securely around you, reading your uneasiness.

“Hey, I got you. I got you,” he soothes, running a hand through your hair. “God, not my best idea. Sorry for bringing you here.”

You shake your head, wordlessly informing him that it’s okay. You’re just glad to be with him again.

“Wanna go home?”

You nod solemnly, and Yangyang zips you out of there in minutes with his arm tucked by your side, ensuring he doesn’t lose you in the crowd again.

Fortunately, the jitters mostly disappear when you arrive at your place in the late afternoon. You’re in the middle of rummaging through your keys to unlock your door.

“Sorry I didn’t have anything else planned for today,” he mumbles, leaning with folded arms against the wall.

“Did you...” You insert the correct key and turn the lock, clicking the door open. Your gaze lifts to match his. “Did you wanna maybe have dinner with me tonight? I was thinking of ordering pizza in.”

The grin that reaches his eyes is a sufficient answer for you.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He hangs his arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss atop your head.

After chomping down pizza and playing a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. on Yangyang’s Switch, you peer over to him on your living room couch while he’s figuring out which character he should play next.

The little mental voice in the back of your mind prods you, reminding that you should really, really have The Talk soon. The Talk that you swept under the rug at the start by saying you’d play everything by ear.

Four dates later, and the thought of this ending scares the living daylights out of you. This not only including the interim relationship, but the dire possibility of the friendship itself too. Is it possible to go back to how you were, flipping it off like a light switch?

But the internal voice is smothered as you’re drawn to his pouting lips in thought. His pouting, oh-so kissable lips. Following the ice skating kiss yesterday, you only shared a good-bye kiss when he dropped you off. Since then, you’ve been itching to have his lips on yours again.

Yangyang eventually detects your lack of focus and finds you gawking at his mouth. Your gaze dashes to his eyes, blinking innocently, but then his eyes flicker to your mouth.

The tension in the room snaps. You two carefully throw the Switch controllers off to one side and attach yourselves together. Unlike the crashing of your bodies at the ice rink, this one is purposeful. Deliberated, as his forehead presses into yours and his tender caress carries your cheek. Your body plummets backwards until Yangyang pins you completely into the couch.

Initially, the lip-locking is gentle and mild. Your fingers lay in the vicinity of his angular visage and sturdy upper frame, in contrast to his hand curling around your waist in a light squeeze.

Soon, hands traverse to other regions—his back, your thigh, his stomach, your ass. Each touch seeking, craving, whining. Tongues slinking and dancing with appetite. Your bodies buzz for more.

Open-mouthed kisses transition from the damp lips to each other’s necks. The touches dig deeper, thriving with hunger. Your back bows, body curving into his. Grinding ensues and his robust desire is blatant against your own pulsing passion.

“You don’t happen to have any condoms on you, do you?” you groan upwards to the ceiling.

He retracts from your neck to swing his head side to side, grumbling a “Sorry, we can stop...” yet you interrupt his apology by cupping his covered length. The guttural groan he exhales into your lips makes you shiver with pleasure.

“Doesn’t mean we still can’t have fun with our hands...” you say slyly.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasps, smirking, before diving in again to taste your mouth.

Clothes are stripped with the assistance of each other, leaving you with only your bra on while Yangyang opts to be completely bare. He tops your body in the same position once more.

On the couch arm rest, your head is perched with his hand clutching the space next to it for leverage. Both figures are too scatter-brained to delve into the exquisite nudity of one another, hands flying desperately to your respective arousals.

Your pretty fingers wrap around his possession almost exactly when he dips two digits into your warmth. In unison, two sharp, quiet gasps pierce the room.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he hisses observantly. You’re so overwhelmed by the bliss that you can’t assemble any sort of response.

Your mouth’s parted to one side, chest soaring with each plunge. Through his clouded vision, he ambles over your curves and lines and yearns to see your breasts, but he respects your choice of keeping it on and opts to ambush the expanse with kisses. Your chest is launched further into his mouth and Yangyang assumes you’re enjoying this.

Fearing friction burn, you drop him from your grip momentarily, swiping a few licks over your palm. When your hand pumps him again, now drenched with saliva, grunts reverberate against your skin.

“Yangyang?” you whimper, causing his face to pull away from the temple of your body.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m-I’m close.” And he can attest to it; the contractions around him are increasing, harshly squeezing his fingers.

“Same,” he pants.

Your best friend flicks his wrist with ignition, securing your waves of elation. You attempt to do the same, but it’s difficult when he’s also sloppily thrusting himself into your fist, so you simply clench your grasp harder. His features pinch and choppy moans dribble as he yields to his climax, gushing himself over your stomach.

Still sucking in lungfuls of air, Yangyang kisses you tenderly before removing himself to clean up the mess he made.

Following the clean-up, while putting on your clothes, Yangyang expresses how he should get going since it’s getting late.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you pipe up.

His mind races, debating on whether to leave or not, anxious to blur the lines of your relationship even further.

Sure, he’s your temporary boyfriend, thus staying over at your place shouldn’t mean anything. But this agreement is ending next week, and he’s questioning if you two can stay just friends after this, knowing that he’s going to want more. Yangyang has had a taste of the what if, and it’s now irrevocable.

He wants you all for himself. Selfishly, but deeply.

For the sake of keeping this a great thing for you, he shoves his thoughts aside. This is all about you and for your benefit, anyhow.

“Uh, sure, I can take the couch like I always—”

“Yangyang, you just put your fingers inside of me,” you snicker, snagging him by the hand to your bedroom. “C’mon.”

The rest of the night is relatively chaste with some kisses and touches here and there. Eventually, you fall asleep facing each other with your fingers interlocked, excited for the big day tomorrow.

DECEMBER 25th

Normally on Christmas, Yangyang and you spend it with your respective families, but coincidentally, both of your families, your parents being retired and all, ended up vacationing this year, leaving the two of you to spend it with each other.

After getting up around noon, Yangyang heads to his place to grab his gift. He takes longer than you expected because, as it turns out, he also went home to grab baking goods he bought beforehand since he wants to make butter cookies with you today.

The cookies end up fine, but the mess is another story. Besides the chaos on the counter, your faces and aprons are splotched with flour (you swear he started it, but he disagrees and stands his ground that you’re the perpetrator). With a damp cloth, Yangyang aids you to clean, but not forgetting to wipe your face and giving you pecks over your cheeks and nose.

The baking and aftermath occupies most of the afternoon, so dinner comes in the form of fancy, romantic instant ramen for two. Afterwards, you two sit in your living room and start to exchange gifts.

Yangyang hands his over to you first. From the size of the gift and the crumpled, oddly-shaped wrapping, you already can guess it’s a stuffed plushie of a cute animal to add to your never ending collection. You hug it tightly with a large smile.

“It’s so cute, thank you!” you squeal, but you change your expression in an instant to a serious pout. “But you can’t steal this one like you did with my Ice Bear plushie.”

“Hey, I didn’t steal Ice Bear, I just forgot to give him back.” You roll your eyes sarcastically and he laughs. “I’ll bring him over tomorrow, if it makes you feel better.”

Then, when it’s your turn, you head into your bedroom and come out with a large, white shopping bag. His eyebrows raise, unsure of what could warrant a gift this size.

“For being my holiday boyfriend,” you grin, placing the bag in front of his feet.

Despite the hugest smile on your face, his heart sinks at the label for a second, but he blinks and wills himself to look inside the bag.

His eyes shoot open, so much that you’re scared you might have to stuff them back into his sockets.

Yangyang slips the box out of the bag with precision and stares at it speechlessly.

It’s the new Playstation.

He shifts his eyes toward you. You’re swaying on the couch, pleased by his reaction.

“Your parents paid for most of it, so I can’t take all the credit.” Sticking a finger in the air, you add, “You just gotta promise to share custody with me though—”

A hand behind your head yanks you into a deep kiss. He’s not the only one left speechless on the couch. He places the top of his head against yours.

“You’re crazy, but I love—” He quickly catches himself from saying something he might regret. “—I love it so much, thank you. Now I feel bad for getting you only the stuffed animal...”

You shake your head softly, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone.

“Thank you for everything.” Your eyes twinkle. “I couldn’t have asked to spend the holidays with anyone else.”

Carefully, like a newborn baby, he safely situates the boxed Playstation to one side and nabs your lips with his again. The scene feels like repeat of last night as your bodies wrestle passionately on the couch.

“Not to be presumptuous,” he mutters between the kisses upon your neck. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation. “But I also grabbed condoms from my place when I stopped by.”

His words sends the two of you leaping towards your bedroom. Under the dim lighting, you fall into the bed as Yangyang pares your layers off, one by one. With each peel, his lips roam the revealing bare skin. You swear he has kissed you from your literal head to toe when you’re fully nude in front of him.

Your companion drags his shirt over his head, throws it off to your floor, and immediately targets in onto your nub with his mouth, finally satiating his craving from last night.

Fingers thread into his hair and over his flexed back. His tongue swirls and his teeth lightly tug on your perkiness, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And he still isn’t even inside you yet.

After leaving love upon your other bosom, Yangyang fumbles with the condom, forgetting which way it should go on. Giggling, you perch yourself onto your elbows and assist him. Rolling it over his possession, you recline yourself back and spread your legs for him.

Pensively, he sticks his tongue out as he adjusts himself between your sex, easing himself into you, and upon the full impact, you meet his gaze head-on. His stare makes you feel vulnerable and exposed beyond the physical plane.

But, unlike the others you have been with, you trust him with everything, like you always have, and be free with him. Losing your inhibitions and submitting to your whims, you entangle and become one with Yangyang.

Behind his hazy vision, Yangyang’s simply thinking how beautiful you are, how he can’t imagine anyone else under his touch but you, how he is willing to give up anything to make you smile.

Well, in this case, he’s willing to give up anything to make you pleased.

However, it doesn’t seem like he needs to do much because you’re howling his name and clinging onto his skin and the sheets in a frenzy, like you’re about to die of exhaustion.

You perish a few times under him before he finally reaches his little death himself, convulsing into the sheath.

When air’s replenished into your bodies, you rest on his chest under your blanket. Glancing up at him, you move some of his tousled hair off his sleek forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Yangyang,” you whisper, snuggling him with a satisfied smile.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he whispers back, giving you one last peck before you both drift into a deep slumber together.

DECEMBER 26th

Last night took so much out of the both of you, you don’t get out of bed until about the middle of the afternoon. Yangyang doesn’t have anything planned for today since it’s Boxing Day, since the crowds might be crazy wherever you go, so it’s officially a chill, rest day for you both.

When you step out of the shower in fresh clothes, from behind the couch, you watch Yangyang gaming on his Switch.

The little voice in your head looms, prompting that now is the time to have The Talk, and speaks up on your behalf.

“Do we have to end things next week?” you croak.

You see Yangyang’s shoulders stiffen, then he pauses the game and turns around to face you. His gaze follows you as you step closer to the couch, opting to stand.

“Uhm.” His Adam’s apple bobs and he shrugs. “It’s up to you, it’s your—”

“Yangyang, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking what you think, how do you feel?”

His lips press together and he’s staring at the floor. You can tell the gears are moving, but you can’t read his expression clearly.

“I’m down for whatever you want to do,” he says slowly, eyes still averting yours.

That’s a I’m-your-best-friend answer, you deduce. Not a I-want-to-be-your-actual-boyfriend answer.

He adds, stuttering, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing this a little longer if that’s what you want—”

Your face scrunches in annoyance. “Did you just sign up to be my short-term boyfriend so you can fill my empty heart?”

His eyebrows crease with confusion. “I mean, I never want to see you unhappy.”

“So it’s pity dating then?” you lash, raising your voice.

“No, I—” Yangyang bites down on his tongue, almost letting the one word slip out again. He blows out a lengthy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I care about you, so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

You’re defining his words as an affirmation of friendship and as an underlying rejection of your love.

You need to know for certain.

“Do you love me, Yangyang?” you blurt. “As more than a friend?”

This is it, Yangyang thinks. This is your chance to let her know how you feel.

But the distress written on your face makes him wonder if he should even go through with it, and it’s intensifying with every passing moment that he’s not speaking.

If only he knew your distress was deepening because you took his hesitance as absolute rejection.

Your heart is breaking because of him, and he technically wasn’t even yours to begin with.

You smack your lips together and gulp a few times, trying to make the huge knot in your throat disappear.

“You know what, maybe let’s just forget this arrangement and leave it all behind and forget about the sex and—”

“You wanna stop this?” he utters quietly.

The word “this” hangs heavy in the air. This, carrying the weight of not only being the temporary agreement, but also your friendship.

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears beginning to blur your eyes. “I think I do.”

DECEMBER 28th

Two days have passed since you last saw Yangyang.

That day before he left, Yangyang, feeling guilty for how events unfolded, wanted to give back the Playstation, but you insisted for him to keep it. In spite of everything, it was a Christmas gift to him from you and his parents.

But both of you weren’t sure if the shared custody promise was going to be held up.

In hopes that things would eventually get better and heal itself, Yangyang thought it’d be best to leave you alone for a while, like how he usually did.

And maybe he was right to do so, but this time is different.

Because he’s on the other end of the stick now; he’s the one who broke your heart.

Under regular circumstances, whenever you needed space, he was always ready to be there by your side.

But Yangyang’s uncertain if you’re going to let him comfort you this time.

And you’re uncertain if you even want him to.

DECEMBER 30th

Today, Yangyang finally makes the move to get in touch with you, texting you to call him, but you don’t, so he leaves a voicemail later in the evening.

“There’s a New Year’s party I’m going to tomorrow,” he starts off, then spews the specific details.

There’s a pause and you hear shuffling in the background. You assume he’s pacing around.

“I know you ended our agreement, but I wouldn’t mind fulfilling my end since New Year’s is the last day tomorrow. I’d be really glad if you came to the party with me, whether it be as my friend or my girlfriend.”

Another pause.

On the other end, Yangyang rubs his palm over his face, considering whether or not he should say it. If you picked up the phone call, he was going to do it anyway, but this just felt improper. He wants to say it when he knows you’re listening in real-time, so he ends off the message with:

“I miss you. So much.”

DECEMBER 31st

It’s 8:40PM. Before Yangyang buses out to the party, he’s back at your front door for one more shot. His fist taps at your door, cognizant that you wouldn’t be elsewhere since your other friends are out of town for the holidays. Despite that, you don’t come to the door. Nevertheless, he speaks to you through the wooden barrier.

“Hey, I know you want to be left alone, but I just wanted to see if you changed your mind about the party.”

Still no answer. He lets out a sigh and prays the following will incite a reaction from you.

“About the question that you asked me that night...”

He closes his eyes and allows his mouth to carry him.

“I do. I do love you. As both my best friend and more. I’m sorry if I hurt you that night by not saying anything, but I love you so much and I think we should give us a shot.”

Still no answer. Yangyang continues.

“Look, I know it’s scary and crazy to date your best friend. I’m scared too, but you know what? I’m okay with being scared. I’ve watched you gone through those assholes over the last few years and maybe you’re scared I’ll end up like one of them, but unlike them, I don’t think you’re horrible or needy or emotional—you’re beautiful, intelligent, and strong for putting up with all those fuckers.”

He leans his forehead gently against the door.

“And even if we ever do break up, and this is a big if because I’ll always try my hardest with you to make it work, I’ll still be your friend. I promise. You won’t lose me ‘cause I need you in my life. I gotta keep my end up for the custody of the Playstation, right?”

A smile breaks over his face from his joke, but still. Radio silence.

“Can you at least say something?” he begs.

After a few minutes, realizing he needs to probably give you more time to be left alone, he departs and heads to the party.

Originally, you actually were planning on attending the party to see Yangyang to make-up with him.

Unfortunately, out of all the days you had to take a late afternoon nap, it had to be today.

And you overslept. Big time.

At 10:55PM, you scramble awake, realizing you’re absolutely late to the event. Since the party’s downtown, you know calling an Uber or Lyft there would be fast, but tonight’s the worst night for any share riding service and there aren’t any available drivers. Thus, you have to manage with busing there.

It’s 11:40PM when you finally reach downtown, but the bus can’t take you all the way to the core centre where the party is; hordes of people are out on the streets and traffic is dreadful. God, you’re going to be cutting it close to midnight, but you make a run for it.

You’re grateful the party is on the second floor of a small building because you slide in right through the entrance at 11:58PM. You rush to call Yangyang’s phone, hoping he’ll pick up as you try to find him in the scattered groups of people.

You begin to holler for him in hopes he can hear you, but the countdown is happening, drowning out your voice. Thirty seconds left until the clock strikes for the new year.

When his number finally goes to voicemail, you redial his number. Suddenly, a hand grasps you by the wrist.

Yangyang looks at you, dumbfounded.

“When did you get here?”

The harmonious chanting around you floods your surroundings.

“Ten, nine, eight...”

Getting closer to him, you practically scream into Yangyang’s face, trusting he’ll hear what you’re about to say.

“I know Christmas is over, but I want to change my wish.”

“Seven, six, five...”

“I know you might not feel the same and I know things might not work out.”

“Four, three, two...”

”But I wish to date you past New Year’s until whenever, however long we last.”

“One...”

“I love you, Yangyang—”

The one you love snatches you by the waist and your cheek, stealing your lips at the last millisecond before midnight.

“Happy New Year!”

A wave of noisemakers, clappers, and hollering erupt around the room. After it dies down a bit, Yangyang shocks you with a scolding.

“Why didn’t you say anything when I came over?!”

Confusion rushes over you. You realize he probably came by when you were sleeping.

“You came over?!”

“Yeah, I confessed my love for you.”

“Wait,” you blink blankly, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Your love?”

“Yeah,” he nods, giving you his cheesy, adorable smile. “I love you.”

“As more than a friend?” you clarify.

“Babe,” Yangyang’s thumb caresses your cheek. “I don’t think I could ever go back to wanting less with you.”

Your lips tremble with relief as your gaze melts in his.

“And, anyway, who else am I going to share the Playstation with?”

“Well, I mean, you do have Hendery, Xiaojun, Winwin...” you start to count his infinite list of friends on your fingers.

“Yeah, but I need you so I can constantly beat your cute little butt at games.”

“You do not constantly beat my cute little butt at games, I’ll have you know that I beat you at—”

Yangyang shuts you up with another kiss, the one of many for the rest of the night.

JANUARY 2nd

It’s your second morning at Yangyang’s place. You’ve only done it a few times now, but you realize that waking up in his arms is one of the greatest feelings in the world, second only to his kisses.

In his bed, spooning you from behind, he grumbles into the nape of your neck, “Morning, girlfriend.”

Half-awake, you mumble back, “Morning, boyfriend,” and sink deeper into the curve of his body.

Content, you finally broke your string of cursed holiday break-ups for good.

And all it took was to be with the one who was in front of you all this time.

2K notes · View notes

eddiemunsonssoulmate · 3 years ago

Text

Late night devil, put your hands on me

Pairings: Dabi x Hero!Reader

Words: 7.7k

Summary: It was supposed to be a relaxing Saturday night while your roommate was out on a date. Finally some peace and quiet from all the work of the last few weeks. Just you, your bathtub and a good book. Too bad someone had a whole other idea.

Rating: M for Mature & F for Filth

Warnings: Mentions of dubcon, rough sex, choking and a lot of other things. It’s Dabi, you know what’s coming.

Also on: AO3

A/N: How much would I let a man ruin me, level: Dabi. This was supposed to be short and filthy and now it’s long and filthy. Enjoy!

Ain't no one else who can burn me like that

“Have fun and good luck with your date,” you yelled from the hallway when your roommate was almost out of the door.

“Thanks, I’ll need it,” was the only reply you got before the door closed.

Your roommate had been nervous all day long, so it was no surprise to you that words were a little short right now. You just hoped it would go all right, it had been quite some time since the last date.

Which also meant you finally had some peace and quiet on your own this Saturday evening. During the week you two barely saw each other because of work so you would normally spend the weekend together which can be quite exhausting at times.

But today it was only you, a good book and a bathtub. The hero business was always buzzing, there was always a criminal to catch at some corner and the last couple of weeks had been tiring your body out so much that your agency had given you off for this weekend.

Being a sidekick was hard enough in such a renowned agency and you had the tendency to work too much, rarely looking after yourself. They barely had to kick you out yesterday evening and ban you from the agency for the weekend.

You were happy they did, really. Your body needed the rest.

As you were walking through your room, trying to gather the things you needed for a relaxing bath you kept thinking back to the last few cases this month alone. Two attacks from the League, kidnapped children and people getting set on fire for seemingly no reason with no pattern. You didn’t get the League sadly but could at least solve the other two cases.

The one with the children strained your body and your mind the most. It had been hard seeing all those kids in danger, almost getting drowned in acid as an empty threat from the villain. Your team had been able to get everyone out alive, thankfully. But all those crying and terrified children that would have a hard time getting back to their lives...it had been different.

You closed your eyes and shook your head. You shouldn’t think about such things when you are trying to relax and actually forget about work for once.

With a fresh towel and your book under your arm you walked over to the bathroom where you had the water running. It had been quite some time since you actually had the time to take a bath. Normally it was just showers and mostly not even long ones.

You took your clothes off and dipped into the water, letting out a sigh as the hot water moistened your skin.

You leaned back into the tub and closed your eyes for a moment, simply enjoying the warmth around you on this rather cool fall evening.

When you felt comfortable enough to reached over to grab the book you were currently reading, almost halfway done but still so much to go.

It was a fantasy story about love, revenge and a lot of faeries. It was a nice read and you actually really loved the story, you just didn’t have enough time to read it on a regular basis so your plan was to read as much as you could this weekend. You should be able to finish it because as soon as you were caught up in the story again, you knew you couldn’t just leave it be anymore.

As you were reading your book you really did get caught up in it again, the story drawing you in and-

Bang.

Your head shot up from the lines in front of you, eyes looking towards the closed door of the bathroom room. A frown was forming on your face, there clearly had been a loud noise just now.

Was your roommate back already? Did the date go to shit? Was it another bird that flew against your window? It had just happened three days ago so what were the chances?

“Back already?” you hollered with a slight teasing tone on your lips. You would be happy if your roommate had been able to take his date back to your place already but you highly doubted it. It had been barely twenty minutes, you had only been in the bath for roughly ten.

There was no answer. Maybe it was really a bird or something fell from the table. Maybe it had been one of the neighbors in the hallway in front of your apartment but it sounded a little closer.

You shrugged and turned your head back to the book in your hand, trying to find the line where you were when you heard steps. You quietly put your book down and listened in closely.

You swallowed and took a deep breath. There wasn’t enough time to jump out of the tub and get dressed so you readied your quirk while your naked body was still in the water, the bath foam the only thing hiding you.

The handle of the door was pushed down and you were about to set your quirk off when the door opened wide and you were met with blue flames, briefly wrapping around your hands and burning them so you couldn’t use your quirk.

Blue flames.

You hissed in pain and put your hands under the water quickly, trying to cool them down. It wasn’t a bad burn but it still hurt.

“Calm your quirk, doll. It’s just me and we know how far you get every time you used it,” the black haired man said almost annoyed while standing there, leaning against the doorframe with that stupid smirk of his.

Dabi.

“What the fuck are you doing here? In my apartment? Don’t you have people to burn somewhere?” you snapped back at him and he put a hand on his heart, acting like he was affected by your words.

“Oh my, doll. Your words hurt me. I just wanted to visit my favourite hero on her day off,�� he told you with a wolfish grin on his lips as he took a step forward. His blue eyes were looking you up and down and only then you realized once more that you were actually naked.

Your relationship with Dabi was...complicated, to say the least. It had started a few months ago when you were chasing him once more, deep into the forest and him setting trees on fire as you two passed through.

Your quirk had been almost useless against him but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try to catch him. When he had suddenly vanished only to show up behind you, it had been the turning point.

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

Strong arms wrapped around your middle, pulling your back close to his chest. He put his hand around your throat and you could feel the heat radiating from them, seeing small blue flames dancing along his skin.

“Such a sweet girl, following me wherever I go,” he whispered against your ear and you knew that he could snap your neck within a second when you moved now.

“Let me go,” you growled as a weak warning but he just laughed against the skin of your neck when he started to nuzzle it, squeezing with his hand a little.

“What a weak protest. You actually like this, don’t you?” His voice was venom that was dripping into your body and you clenched your jaw.

“The others will be here soon,” you replied, ignoring his comment.

You had met him a couple of times before, never catching him and you couldn’t deny his handsome features, especially those icy blue eyes of his but that wasn’t something you would admit to anyone. He was a villain, you were a hero. He killed people, you saved people. Simple as that.

Your eyes widened when the hand that was wrapped around your middle moved upwards and squeezed your right boob.

“What the-” you started but he squeezed your neck once more, preventing you from getting enough air.

“Shut up and let me enjoy this moment alone with you,” he growled before he spun you around, pressing you against the next tree. His hand was still wrapped around your throat, one of his knees now pressed between your legs.

A chuckle left his throat when he looked at you as you were gritting your teeth, trying to think of a way to get out of this.

“Don’t act so strong, little hero. I’m not going to hurt you that bad, you’re too precious for that,” he growled as his lips were so close to yours that you could feel them brushing against you ever so lightly when he spoke.

You couldn’t deny the attraction, the pull that made your body relax.

Something he noticed, of course.

“Good girl.” He licked his lips, looking at you like you were his prey that he had been hunting down. You for sure felt like that right now.

“y/n!” Suddenly someone yelled your name and Dabi let out an almost feral growl of annoyance while looking around, trying to find the person but from the sound of their voice, they must have been still quite far away.

You tried to answer but felt the fingers around your throat closing tightly once more.“Too bad, I was hoping to have more time with you. Well, maybe next time,” he whispered against your lips before sealing the kiss.

The villain was kissing you and there was nothing you could do about this, except gasp in surprise which he only took as an invite to invade your mouth with his tongue, tasting him and the faint metallic taste of his tongue piercing inside of you.

And as if you didn’t have a mind of your own, you kissed him back only to feel him grin against your lips only a second later. He had what he wanted and you knew it.

What a fool you were.

“Such an obedient doll,” he said with a chuckle when he pulled apart, leaving you breathless and feeling filthy at the same time. “I’ll be back for you.”

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

And back he came. Multiple times. He was pestering you over and over again and you didn’t stop him.

You gave yourself willingly to him and didn’t even know why. He was a dangerous man that had no problem killing you if he wanted to. Had no problem with killing everyone you loved just to get what he wanted and yet, you couldn’t stop it.

Whenever you saw him he was ready to stuff you full with his massive cock, splitting you apart and you were always begging for more.

Maybe it was the feeling of doing something forbidden that was always pulling you back to him. Maybe it was the fault of his eyes that sometimes had a hint of sadness and you just wanted to find out more. The burn scars of his body didn’t come out of nowhere after all but you would never dare to ask. It was all physical after all.

“Cat got your tongue?” he barked at you and got you out of your trance, realizing he stood right in front of the bathtub now, towering over you. “It’s not nice to ignore your guests, you know.”

You bit your lip from keeping the reply inside, still trying to ignore the pain on your hands.

“It’s not like I invited you. How did you get in anyway?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant while his crotch was so close to your face. You kept your eyes on his but that wasn’t making it any better. His eyes were one of the biggest selling points after all.

“Balcony, it wasn’t that hard to just melt the lock,” he said with a shrug as he crouched down in front of you, face now on the same level. For a moment you wondered how he even got up here, you didn’t live that close to the ground but he probably had his ways. For some reasons the League of Villains were always able to show up in the most unexpected places and they had been seen using portals before even though you doubted he would use portals for such occasions.

“I hate you,” you replied, just thinking of the damage he had done to your door only to get in. You had no idea how to explain a melted lock to your roommate and there was not enough time to switch it out before they would notice.

“I know, that’s why this is so great.” While he said ‘this’ he gestured between the two of you.

You hated him.

You should just gather new strength with your quirk and at least distract him so you could grab clothes and leave.

You should kick him out, inform your colleagues so they can catch him. You should do something and yet you didn’t do a single thing when he let his hand run over your arm with a featherlight touch that was so unlike him.

You didn’t do a thing when his hand dripped below the water, tracing around your breast, your nipple, along your stomach until the center of your legs.

What a fool you were. A naive fool that couldn’t keep her physical needs in check. It wouldn’t be that hard to go out and find a decent man to just get your needs satisfied with.

And yet here you were, with one of the most dangerous, most wanted villains of your generation and you would let him do anything to you.

Kind of pathetic if you would really think about it but thinking was out of the window when his fingers find your clit under the water and you lean your head back with a moan.

Whenever he touched you it felt so electric, you had no explanation for any of this. You were nothing but a toy to him and you didn’t even complain.

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled when he watched how your body started to squirm, you arching your back so your boobs were outside the water. “And I’m barely touching you.”

You knew, for fucks sake. He was only rubbing small circles against your clit and yet you already felt like you were on fire.

One of his fingers dipped inside of you and you let out another moan, opening your eyes again to look down, watching how he was pumping one finger in and out of you, then adding another one.

“You’re so wet,” he chuckled and you turned your head towards him. His other arm was resting on the side of the bathtub, his head on his arm, looking almost innocent if it wasn’t for that wolfish grin on his lips that made you afraid he would just eat you up any second.

He was pumping three fingers in and out of you now and you were barely able to hold it together, your legs were moving on their own, splashing water around more than necessary until he pulled his hand away suddenly and your whole body stopped.

“What?” you said in confusion and heard his laugh, shaking his head and simply putting his hand in front of you, spreading his fingers apart and you could clearly see your wetness coating his fingers. He dipped his hand under water once more to clean them.

“What what?” he replied as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. Fucking bastard.

“I-” you stopped yourself, biting your lip. Your body was burning hot and you just wanted release but that’s just what he wanted to hear.

“You what, doll?” He grinned at you and watched you taking deep breaths, trying to calm your body down but with him so close that turned out to be quite the challenge.

“I want to cum,” you mumbled, barely audible even to yourself. God, you felt so ashamed even thinking about this.

“Excuse me? I must have water in my ears, what did you just say?”

Gods, you hated him. You hated that smug smile, that teasing tone, that pleased look in his eyes that he had when he got close to getting what he wanted.

“I want to cum,” you said again, this time louder and clenching your jaw in anger. You didn’t just hate him, you also hated yourself for this.

“Why didn’t you just say so, princess?” he chuckled and stood up, opening his buckle. You looked at him confused and he caught on, shrugging with his shoulders. “Well, you have to earn it first.”

Of course he wouldn’t just let you off the hook that easily.

His pants and underwear dropped to the ground and he let out a relieved sigh when his cock sprang free, not straining against the fabric anymore.

“Open up,” he told you and you sat up straight in the tub, feeling a cool breeze especially around your breast, only causing your nipples to grow more. Something he clearly approved of because his cock started to twitch at the new sight that you were giving him.

Dabi took his cock in his hand, pumped it a few times before ligning it up with your open mouth.

“Tongue,” he demanded and you pushed your tongue out, letting him put his dick it. He let it rest there for a moment before pushing inside of you slowly and you closed your lips around him.

“Hm, that’s good,” he said with a low moan falling from his lips and you got to work. After all this time you had figured out what he liked, figured out how to be careful of his piercing in your throat so you didn’t hurt yourself or him.

You shifted a little in the tub, trying to take him deeper and reaching forward to fondle his balls.

He let out a choked gasp and leaned forward, hands resting against the tiled wall of your bathroom while he tried to hold himself steady. For some reason it made you proud that you could do this to him because he always did way worse to you.

Wet sounds were filling the bathroom, sounds of the water splashing a little as you were moving around and sounds of your lips and tongue swirling around his cock, making him moan from time to time.

But suddenly he grabbed the back of your head without a warning and pushed his dick deep inside of you.

“C’mon, be a good doll and choke on it.” His words were ringing in your ears when he was hitting the back of your throat, tears gathering in your eyes and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t be dumb, you have a nose for a reason,” he reminded you and you tried to breath through your nose before he pulled back out almost completely, only to push forward with more force and there was nothing you could do against it. You simply took his dick as far in as you could, opening your jaw to its maximum and yet, it still felt like it wasn’t enough.

He did this a few times and after one more big push and his tip once again tickling the back of your throat you felt his hot semen spilling down your throat and you were struggling not to choke.

When he pulled out you were coughing, trying to catch a breath, some of his cum still on your lips.

You heard how he started to hum when he picked his pants back up and you looked at him with widened eyes.

His eyes landed on you once again as he was about to close his belt. “I really like this sight of you, you know. Wet, messy, my cum still on your lips.” He chuckled, more to himself than to you.

The black haired man noticed the look on your face and he tilted his head a little to the side. “Hm? You want to say something?”

Obviously but you couldn’t. Your throat was still burning from the ruthless attacks only seconds before and you were trying to catch a breath to even form a sentence.

“I thought-” you started but had to stop, swallowing hard. He was once again just standing in front of the tub, looking down at you with that cold look of his. “I thought you’d...give me release.”

“Are you saying you don’t want me to go, princess? Because it really sounded like you wanted to get rid of me when I arrived.” He tried to hide his grin but you saw the edges of his mouth twitching, the staples moving ever so slightly, giving him away. Not that he would mind. He knew exactly that you were at his mercy and he knew that you knew.

“Gods, I ha-” Once again you stopped midway when you saw how his eyes darkened and you swallowed the rest of the sentence. “Can you please not go?”

“That doesn’t sound really convincing, maybe try again?” He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze fixed on you and it almost felt like he was trying to drill a hole in you with his look.

You took a deep breath. “Can you please stay and...fuck me?”

“Are you begging for my cock, doll?” Dabi asked and started to smirk again.

You hated this, him, you.

“Yes, please fuck me with your cock. I need it,” you said without thinking. You were tired of thinking, tired of fighting this. It had been a lost fight from the beginning, you knew this and even worse, he knew this too.

“My, why didn’t you say this sooner?” he replied with a chuckle and looked almost a little too gleefully for a second. “Up.”

“Up?” you repeated his words back at him and looked at him confused.

“Out of the tub, doll. You’ll get all wrinkly otherwise and as much as I’d love to leave bruises on you, I’m not interested in having them on myself. Meet me in the living room.” With that he left the bathroom so casually as if he would live here. As if he wasn’t a dangerous villain.

You got out of the bathtub, legs a little weak. You used your towel to dry yourself and thought about putting on clothes for a moment. That would be the perfect time to get back on track, to gather your things and get out. He was distracted and you would have your chance to get away from him.

Only problem, you didn’t want to. The pull was too strong. It was something feral that was boiling in your stomach, something raw that you couldn’t stop.

Your clothes were ignored and forgotten as you made your way over to the living room. Only dimmed lights were on and you saw how the balcony door was opened a bit, letting cool air inside.

It made you shiver so you wrapped the arms around yourself.

“Cold?” he asked and you spotted him in one of the dark corners. “I actually appreciate the look.”

Dabi walked towards you and pinched both of your nipples at the same time, already hard from the cold and now even harder. Arousal was building up between your legs again.

It felt quite humiliating to stand in front of him like this, naked in dimmed light. If your neighbors would look carefully they might even spot what was going on through the big windows of your living room.

Normally you only had quick fucks with clothes on, simply pushed down to the knees and ankles, him forcing himself inside of you, trying to get as much out of the little time you had together.

But this? This was different. You didn’t just have fifteen minutes, you probably had at least two hours or however long it would take for your roommate to return. A lot of things could happen during this time.

You felt the heat radiating from his body, standing so close to you but he was fully dressed and not naked.

“Tell me again, doll. What is it you want from me?” You weren’t sure if he just loved his own voice so much or if he only wanted to hear you say filthy things. Maybe a bit of both.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to clear your brain. Thinking wouldn’t help now. You just had to give in to your urges. Forget who he was, who you were.

“I want you to fuck me,” you replied after opening your eyes and he took a step forward, causing you to take a step backwards out of instinct. One more time, two more times, wall behind you.

The cool wall was not really comfortable against your back but the heat in front of you was close to burning your skin. You wondered if he had activated his quirk without the flames to cause this heat or if it was just your body reacting to him.

“Are you sure you can handle it, doll? It won’t be like the other times. We’ve got time. I’m going to split you apart and make you mine, there’s nothing to stop me this time,” he growled, his voice so deep and dripping with lust.

He put his hands next to your head, trapping you with his whole body. It sounded almost like he was asking for your consent, not something he would normally do. He liked to take the things he wanted.

“What if I say no?” you blurted out, surprised at the words leaving you but the curiosity was too strong. Curiosity also killed the cat.

He grabbed your chin with his right hand and forced you to look him deep in the eyes.

“Can you?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and his blue eyes looked at you so intensely that it felt like he was looking directly into your soul. As if he could see that you would not refuse, could not refuse.

“Please use me.” You didn’t directly reply to his question but your words were enough of an answer.

Without wasting another moment he pressed his lips against yours. You felt relief and your body relaxed, even more so when you opened your mouth and let him in. He always kissed like he was a dying man and maybe he was. You didn’t know, wouldn’t know if you asked him. It was not your place to know.

His hands started to wander over your naked body, groping your breasts, then down to your ass, fingertips running through the slit of your ass before grabbing your cheeks and hoisting you up, pressing you more against the wall, all of it without breaking the kiss.

“You really are special, you know?” he said when he pulled away from the kiss and you tilted your head, asking what he meant without using words.

Dabi started to kiss along your neck, licking and sucking the soft skin there. “You’re so defiant, so rebellious whenever we fight and yet here you are, acting like my willing slut.”

He was right about this but you couldn’t explain it to him because you didn’t have an answer to yourself. You knew it was wrong and yet, you still wanted him, all of him.

Thankfully he didn’t expect a reply to his words, not that you were able to answer the moment he bit down hard on the flesh of your neck, bruising and almost breaking the skin there.

The villain in front of you was marking you. Marking you as his and people would probably see the mark at some point, asking you questions and you had to make up a stupid excuse. You couldn’t tell anyone the truth.

Your legs were wrapped around his middle and you could feel his cock once again straining against the fabric of his pants, pressing against your center, begging to be freed.

Dabi growled against the wounded skin on your neck, a feral sound that left his throat and you felt how his hands got hotter while holding your ass. You tried to ignore the pain that was slowly growing stronger and suddenly, it stopped.

He lifted his head from your neck to look at you and you leaned forward into another kiss, wrapping your arms around him.

The black haired man started to move with you in his arms, carrying you across the living room before dropping you without a warning, turning you around and pressing you against the window next to the broken balcony door.

You only had a moment to prevent being pressed completely against the glass, hands in front of you.

“That’s not how we play, doll”, he said, followed by a disapproving ‘tsk’ and he took your wrists, pulled them towards him and put them on your back so you were completely pressed against the cold glass in front of you.

Thankfully it was rather dark in your room but you were sure if some people from the apartment block over there or even just from the street, they would be able to spot you.

You felt humiliated once again, pressed against the window with your cheek , nipples on display for everyone.

“Imagine all those people being able to see you now,” he said with a dark chuckle behind you, hands grabbing your ass before pressing his chest against your back, towering over you and also getting a good look on the street below you.

You were pretty high up here but not high enough to not get noticed.

He slipped a hand to the front and ran his fingers through your folds. “Looks like that turns you on.”

You were almost embarrassed with how wet the thought made you. You didn’t want it to happen and yet, when he was saying those things to you, you couldn’t stop being aroused by that.

Dabi lifted his wet finger to your face and used his free hand to grab your hair to pull you back a little. Even though your hands were not held in place anymore now, you let them rest at your back, they were still trapped with his body anyway.

He lifted your face and held his wet finger in front of you. “Lick.”

Without another thought you opened your mouth to let your tongue swirl around his long finger, licking your own juice off of him.

You felt filthy and used but loved every second of it.

He let go of your hair and you put your face back against the glass, letting the cold glass cool you down for a moment before he grabbed your hips and pulled you back roughly. This time you had to use your hands to brace yourself against the window or you would have fallen over.

You felt the tip of his cock dancing around your entrance and you hadn’t even noticed that he had taken off his pants once again. God, you were really dazed with lust and need if you couldn’t even notice this. So much for not letting your guard down around a villain.

Without a warning he pushed deep inside of you, making you scream in surprise and you had to bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself. The balcony door was broken and open after all, they would not only be able to see but also to hear you.

“You feel so good, doll. My cock buried deep inside of you. Is that what you wanted?” You felt his piercing rub against your most sensitive spot inside of you and you moaned, nodding slightly.

“Yes, it feels so good,” you replied, trying to keep your voice down, afraid you might give someone outside a clue about what was going on in here.

Dabi started to pull out and push back in, first with a slow rhythm, actually giving you time to get used to his thickness, time you normally never had. During your usual encounters he would leave you split open and with a burning. Not that he cared. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling but it made you remember him for days afterwards.

This time was different. He let you adjust, giving you time and you wondered what plans he had in that sick mind of his.

Your hands started to get sweaty against the glass, slipping down millimeters from time to time whenever he pulled out of you and pushed back in.

It didn’t take long for his rhythm to get faster and all you could do was moan and take him. With every thrust he hit the right places, his hands gripping your waist tightly, fingernails digging into your skin.

Soon enough you could only hear the slapping noises of skin meeting skin, his balls hitting against your from behind.

Suddenly a loud slap rang into your ears and the pain came only a moment later. It wasn’t the normal pain of getting spanked, it burned.

You gasped in surprise and saw blue flames from the corner of your eyes when you turned your head around.

“Don’t hold back with me, princess. I want to hear those moans.” It wasn’t a request or a reminder, it was a threat, the blue flames speaking for themselves.

You hated yourself for actually liking it.

When he pushed deep inside of you with the next thrust you let out the moan he wanted to hear, trying to forget that you were right in front of a window, that the door was open, trying to forget everything but him and how he made you feel.

“That’s it. Stop thinking. I’m the only important thing that exists for you, my little doll.”

You repeated his words in your mind over and over again, letting him fuck you hard from behind, letting him take control over you. It felt good to let go for once.

Your mind was taken back to reality when you felt how he started to massage your butthole from behind.

Once again you turned your head to look over your shoulder, your gaze meeting his and he started to grin. His thrusts had become a little slower while he kept rubbing soft circles around the sensitive skin of your back entrance.

“What are you-” you didn’t get to finish the sentence when he started to slowly press a wet finger inside. You weren’t sure if it was your own wetness or just spit.

“I told you to stop thinking. Are you deaf or just a brat?” He sounded way more aggressive but even this tone sent more arousal down your core and you felt yourself getting even wetter. Something he must have felt too with his cock buried so deep inside of you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled and he nodded, pushing the finger inside deeper. It burned but not as much as your cheek that he had slapped moments before. It was a different kind of burn.

“I can actually feel my cock from here,” he said with a chuckle and wiggled his finger inside your back entrance, causing you to moan loudly. It was a completely new sensation for you. You had done it yourself before but this...this was different.

You closed your eyes and your legs started to get weak when he picked up the pace again, one finger buried deep inside your ass. The whole feeling had shifted, the penetration felt completely different now and you were barely able to handle it. He was really fucking you stupid at this point.

When he added a second finger you moaned loudly, not sure if it felt good or if it was just discomfort, you weren’t sure of anything anymore at this point.

His hips snapped at you roughly and you could feel wetness running down the insides of your thigh.

“You sound so sweet when you take all of me.” He sounded so amused, knowing he had you at his mercy, there was nothing you could do at this point. “But I want more. You better not resist or it will hurt.”

Without having the chance to even process what he said he pulled out of you, leaving you to feel horrible empty. You started to whine, almost desperate noises leaving your mouth and when you tried to look back you felt it.

His wet tip at your ass as he started to push it in. You wanted to protest, wanted to say something but you tried to focus on relaxing so it wouldn’t hurt.

It hurt anyway, his thickness was too much for you.

You were a sobbing mess by the time he had all of himself buried inside of you, his piercing rubbing against you on a whole other level now.

Tears were in your eyes but to your surprise, he didn’t move. Let you adjust once more.

“Good girl,” he replied and stroked your back. It was actually comforting, something you had never felt with him before.

When you sobbed once again he slapped your ass hard, only making you whine louder.

“Don’t be like that now. I’ve told you I’d split you apart. You gave yourself willingly to me,” he said with a slight edge in his voice. He was right, of course, you just didn’t expect it to be like that.

He was rough and yet gentle. He made you sob and moan at the same time. You wanted this, you had agreed to this and after a long moment of silence and adjusting, it actually started to feel good.

Dabi must have felt how your tights rings started to relax around himself because he patted your cheek he had slapped before almost gently.

“See, not too bad. Better brace yourself.” He pulled out of you slowly only to slam it back inside and your body surged forward, pressing back against the window, your hands stopping the collison.

“Well, actually,” he started again and grabbed your wrists again, pulling them to himself once more and pinning them on your back like before.

Once again your face was pressed against the window, your back was arching so far back it almost hurt but the feeling of satisfaction that was soon added to your rollercoaster of emotion was overshadowing everything.

The way he was buried deep in your ass and kept fucking you hard from behind felt so good, made you feel alive, made you forget the world around you.

“You’re such a willing slut if you want to be. Not a single thought in that mind of yours right now, pressed against the window with no care in the world if anyone sees you now or not,” he said and watched you in your state. You almost felt high from the feeling, his grip on your wrists was strong, his words were dripping sex to you in this moment.

“Do you want to be seen by people, doll?” he asked and you swallowed, trying to form a thought to answer his question.

“I don’t care, just fuck me. Fuck me hard.” Your reply was music to his ears and he was happy to give you what you wanted.

His hips started to snap against your behind, his dick going outside and back inside almost forcefully. You moaned loudly now, not holding back anything anymore. It felt too good, everything had become such a haze.

You had never felt this way with anyone before and you knew that was his way to make you his, to claim you, to make you come back for more.

You knew you would.

He reached forward with a hand and pinched your clit for a moment before letting it wander towards your breast, stroking them for a moment until his hand closed around your throat.

You swallowed hard and he growled behind you.

“Stop being scared, it’s annoying.” To emphasize his words he gave you another, single hard thrust that made you squeal, a sound he could feel against his hand that was comfortably wrapped around your throat.

“You’ve been so good, don’t ruin it now,” he mumbled and you barely heard it between your moans and the sound of wet skin.

Your body was sweating already and you could barely breathe, even less with his hand wrapped around you.

Dabi suddenly pulled you back, making you choke briefly with his hand. The angle of his cock changed and without even realizing it, your tight rings clamped down around him and you came, wetness coming out of you and running down your thighs.

“Anal orgasm, hm? Never seen that before,” he chuckled and sounded almost proud but you weren’t sure if he was proud of you or himself.

You felt his cock twitch when you were clamping around him and he already sounded out of breath with every word that left his mouth.

“I’m close, doll.” At least one warning this evening but the tone in his voice told you he wanted something. You knew exactly what it was.

“Please, come in my ass. Claim it, it’s yours,” you moaned out between sobs and quick breaths, breaths you weren’t able to take anymore when his hand tightened around your neck, pressing yourself back roughly against him.

You felt dizzy when you felt his cum seeping inside of you. It was still so much even after you had swallowed quite a bit before.

Your insides became hot when he painted you with his cum and you whined, trying to catch a breath but he didn’t let you.

Only when the world started to spin and became slightly black at the corners of your eyes did he let go of your throat and you immediately took a deep breath.

“Don’t pass out on me now, princess.”

Your chest was heaving and you tried to get as much air in your lungs as you could. He pushed you forward slightly and pulled out of you.

Your own wetness was running down the insides of your thighs while his cum came out of your other entrance.

He chuckled slightly and slapped your ass, something that made you realize how weak your legs actually were. You were about to meet the floor but he caught you without any effort.

“Got you better than expected,” he told you with a grin that you didn’t see but heard.

Dabi lifted you up and carried you over to the couch, putting you down on your stomach. When he wanted to turn around he stopped you.

“Stay. I want my cum to stay in your ass, just as a reminder,” he said with a cheeky wink and you felt exhaustion washing over your body.

For a moment he vanished from your sight and returned fully clothed to your sight. He crouched down in front of you and pushed some hair out of your tired face.

“Cat got your tongue again?” he asked, trying to provoke you into saying something stupid as you always did.

“Shut up,” you mumbled weakly and he laughed at your weak attempt. A dark laugh but different than before.

You wanted to say so much more, so slap him for making you almost pass out, yelling at him for being so rough but you just couldn’t. Your body and your mind were tired and you didn’t have the energy to fight it. That would have to wait until your next meeting.

“Don’t worry, I’ll see myself out. I’ll even use the front door this time.”

You just hummed in approval, hoping he wouldn’t seal anything on the way out. Tiredness was coming over you and you barely felt how he threw a blanket over your naked body before you fell asleep.

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

“I’m back,” you heard the familiar voice of your roommate while you slowly woke up from your slumber.

You smiled slightly when waking up, a yawn leaving your mouth when he started to turn around on the couch.

It took you way too long to realize where you were and why you were there.

Still naked on the couch, covered only with a blanket with Dabi’s cum in your ass. Balcony door still melted, imprints of sweat against the window next to it, and the bathtub was still filled.

Your roommate walked into the living room and turned the light on maximum from it’s dimmed state.

“Date was okay but I don’t think she is the girl for me,” the young man you shared your flat with replied and he was looking at your widened eyes.

He squinted his eyes at you and took in the surroundings. He wasn’t stupid. He would know. The state you were in would give it away if not anything else.

The small grin tugging at the edges of his lips told you that he knew.

“Looks like someone had fun on their own while I was gone. Please clean that up tomorrow, I don’t want to sit on any bodily fluids,” he replied and waved with his hand, a blush forming on your cheeks.

“Of course,” you replied, still tired. All you wanted was for him to go to his room so you could either fall back asleep on the couch or make it to your bedroom. When you shifted on the couch, it was clear that you would go nowhere. Everything hurt and your legs were still weak.

Suddenly his two colored hair peaked back out around the corner, followed by his face and he grinned at you again.

“Actually, I’m quite jealous. I wish my date would have gone that way,” he told you with that bright grin of his and you threw a pillow after him.

“Go to bed or I’ll give you a scar that matches your other one!”

You only heard the young man laugh as he made his way down the hallway and you waited until you heard the telltale sound of his bedroom door close.

Once again you shook his head, mind filled with Dabi as you fell back into a deep slumber.

It was only the next morning that you noticed all the hickeys on your neck and the imprint of his hand on your ass that he burned in on there. It wouldn’t be permanent but it would for sure be there for a few days.

'Cause I'm a sucker, I'll do 'bout anything

#Dabi x Reader #Dabi x y/n #Dabi x You #Dabi #touya x you #touya todoroki #my hero academia #dabi imagine #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #dabi fanfic #smut

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beccascribbles · 4 years ago

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hcs series detailing what it is like to be a manager for the various haikyuu teams

karasuno | seijoh |

warnings - swearing, karasuno being their usual selves with the addition of a chaotic manager

word count - 1.7k

being their manager was chaotic enough without the addition of the new first years

you were a second year, joining as a manager in your first year at the insistence of ennoshita, who had not wanted to deal with the likes of tanaka and nishinoya by himself

however, while kiyoko was the calming presence that warmed the boys hearts, you were her more chaotic counterpart

often, you could be found playing pranks on the boys, filling the club room with volleyballs, hiding the bibs

kiyoko was the one to rope you in, stop you from messing around too much, especially when your pranks had increased after the broom incident. you had just wanted to cheer everyone up, but it had only annoyed them

daichi had become irritable and snappy, while sugawara, despite the smile, looked exasperated

tanaka was the only one who didn’t seem too annoyed, giving your hair an affection ruffle

anyway, with the arrival of the new first years, you were determined to turn over a new leaf, make a good first impression

that plan didn’t work out

expecting it to be tanaka, ennoshita, kinoshita and narita walking towards the gym, you had hidden yourself in preparation to scare them (how you managed to mistake the sound of two people for four was beyond you but you did)

you leapt out from your hiding place, letting out a loud roar only to be greeted by a blonde beanpole with glasses and a freckled boy cowering behind him

you then proceeded to let loose a torrent of swear swords

“shit. fuck. sorry. shit. i can’t believe i did that. can we start over?”

you stuck out your hand towards them, the blonde looking at it with disdain while the other moved forward and grasped your hand

“i’m l/n y/n, and i’m one of the managers of the volleyball club,” you said, giving his hand a firm shake, a grin on your face. “this wasn’t how i planned to introduce myself. i thought you were the second years and i wanted to scare them. i promise i’m not always like this.”

cue sugawara piping up from seemingly nowhere, the rest of the team trailing behind, “don’t be fooled. she’s always like this”

“kiyoko is the responsible, lovely manager,” sighed tanaka, causing you to shoot him a glare, “and y/n is the chaotic one but we love her anyway”

“speak for yourself,” scoffed daichi, the ruffling of your hair as he walked past enough to tell you he was only teasing

“rude,” you mumbled before turning back to the two first years with a grin. “anyway, what are your names?”

the freckled one gave you a grin in response, introducing himself as yamaguchi and saying he was pleased to be playing for the team. the blonde refused to reply, walking past with a haughty tilt to his chin, though yamaguchi was quick to introduce him as tsukishima

but you were quick to wear him down, his coldness towards you gradually thawing the more you talked (although he insisted you were just being annoying)

he clearly wasn’t that annoyed as he would often share his music playlist with you

yamaguchi was quick to warm to you after the little scare. you were one of the first he told about wanting to learn the jump floater serve and happily encouraged him

meeting the monster duo of kageyama and hinata went much smoother, considering you had bribed sugawara for information on the pair before you met

the key to kageyama’s heart was milk, so when you introduced yourself and gave him a cartoon, he already knew you would be a great manager

honestly the boy is probably going to become a bit attached to you, constantly asking you to toss the ball to him to practice

definitely asks you to help tutor him as well if he knows you are good at school. kageyama feels far more comfortable with you than tsukishima

hinata was just a literal ball of sunshine, enthusiastically greeting you

probably comes to look up to you a lot and will help you play pranks so long as it doesn’t interfere too much with volleyball practice (you teach him all he needs to know, and enlist his help in executing the great balloon fiasco at the end of your third year)

all the third years definitely see you as a little sister

daichi is fiercely protective over you, steering you away from any volleyball boys who show an interest. literally stares down kuroo when he speaks to you at the training camp

sugawara is definitely the more relaxed one, sitting with you as you gossip about boys. he knows about all your crushes before anyone else. has let it slip on occasion but only to tease you (and to see the way daichi will immediately list off everything wrong about the person and why they don’t deserve you)

asahi is so soft for you. if you’re thirsty, he will scramble for a water bottle. you’re feeling tired? he will give you a piggyback. you don’t even need to ask him directly as he will just do it on instinct at this point (although he was very hurt after you told him off for abandoning the team)

you and the second years are the ultimate friend group, equal parts bitchy and calm

your group chat is constantly pinging, whether you’re in class or not (this is mainly due to tanaka and nishinoya being very bored and deciding to play games together. you will occasionally join in if it’s bowling or pool)

kinoshita and narita know all the gossip. they are your gossip buddies. tanaka walked into a wall while staring at kiyoko? they’ve got photographic proof and a whole video

if you want to know who’s talking shit about who, go to them. honestly, it pays to be quiet sometimes. the stuff daichi lets slip when he thinks no one is listening…

ennoshita is the group mum. he’s responsible for getting you all to practice, though this mainly includes tanaka and nishinoya. the rest of you are very responsible

in ennoshita’s mind, however, you are clubbed in with the two idiots. he believes that without his constant reminders, you’d never be anywhere on time. this is true but you aren’t going to tell him that

the dynamic between you, tanaka and nishinoya is so chaotic. for one, you’re all simps. you indulge their kiyoko obsession and they will listen to you thirst over the people you find attractive. no judgement goes on in these simping sessions, though you do use it as ammunition when you annoy each other

also definitely overprotective of you as well, though constantly show you and the other managers off to other teams to demonstrate karasuno’s superiority

kind of pisses you off and, while kiyoko walks off with yachi, you will hit them on the backs of their heads and tell them to shut up

they would prefer it to be kiyoko but both ultimately agree that you are hot when you are angry so will find out ways to do it more often

yachi and you get on well. personally, you think she’s an adorable mess (the perfect compliment to your chaotic energy)

though she is mainly kiyoko’s responsibility (daichi agreed with kiyoko when she said it would be better that you didn’t show yachi the ropes), you are the one to make her feel more at ease with voicing her opinion. she’s seen you rant at the boys enough times to know they won’t be offended

team sleepovers are a mess (honestly, you wonder why you still host them. answer - team bonding and tradition)

after hinata and kageyama tried to play volleyball with a cushion in your living room, resulting in sending a coffee table and all the glasses it was holding clattering to the floor, you refused to hold them at your place

this is also the reason why daichi, along with kiyoko, requested permission to hold a sleepover at the gym every two months

truth or dare gets crazy, though daichi draws the line when you are dared to strip and run around the school

“tanaka,” he barks, shooting the boy a glare, “that is very dangerous. it is cold. do you want y/n to get hypothermia?”

he will look sheepish and amend the dare to something a bit more tame and school friendly

there is always arguments on who gets to sleep where. when nishinoya and tanaka tried to sleep either side of kiyoko, daichi declared, while ennoshita pulled them away, that boys and girls would slip on opposite sides

you poked your tongue out at a pouting nishinoya and tanaka. you got to sleep next to the love of their lives. you were oblivious to the pout hinata was sending your way. he’d wanted to sleep next to his senpai and was now sandwiched between tsukishima and kageyama

sometimes you will prepare snacks for the boys, much to their horror (while you like to pretend you can cook, rock hard rice is not edible)

surprisingly, the only one honest about it is kageyama, who will hold the food away with a frown. “what is this shit?”

he’ll be hit over the head by tanaka, who shoots you a scared look. he was too slow and kageyama is now at risk of your anger

you plaster a sickly sweet smile on your face. “i won’t be tossing to you for extra practice today”

the worst punishment you can give him. he has to secretly ask the others until yachi finally agrees, too soft for her own good

you and the team are like a family, a messy family that argues and fights, but a family none the less

when the third years left, you may have shed a tear while you were crushed in a group hug and made them promise to keep in touch (which they were obviously going to do)

and, when you and the second years left the year after, you promised that you would keep in touch, that you’d be waiting to see kageyama and hinata on the world stage, threatening tsukishima to ensure he would reply to your messages, crushing yamaguchi and yachi in a hug. ennoshita had to pull you away otherwise you probably wouldn’t have left

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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago

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Family’s Hard (Kristie Mewis x Reader)

Request: part 2 of the fic with Kristie that you post today! Maybe something with the r and Kristie both getting call for the national camp and we see a bit of what happen at camp with mal. pt 2. Maybe with both the reader and Kristine on the USENT roster and the fallout with Amal because of the reader being there. part 2 of the reader and mal meet up again joined by the team

Pt. One

You had never been more unhappy while staring at a plate full of pancakes in your entire existence. You loved your typical practice meal (and your girlfriend of almost a year’s hand on your thigh while you ate it), but you weren’t enjoying the disapproving glare you were getting from across the table. She had been like this the moment you stepped off the plane, and you feared she wouldn’t stop until camp was over.

It wasn’t like you decided to sit at this table to annoy Mal. Kristie wanted to sit with Sam, and you weren’t about to brave the dining room all by your little lonesome (plus you liked the team's Tower of Power and enjoyed watching the siblings banter).

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, pushing your chocolate chip pancakes around the plate, and keeping your eyes trained on your fork.

“You ok?” Your girlfriend asked, her lips caressing your ear. You didn’t miss the way your older sister's nose scrunched at the looseness between you and the older midfielder.

“Just tired. The flight from Houston was super long,” You mumbled, shrugging lightly.

“You sure?” Kristie nudged your cheek with her nose and squeezed your thigh. You had been jittery since you left your shared apartment in Houston to head for camp and no amount of reassuring from your girlfriend seemed to be helping.

“Psh. The flight home from France was exhausting, and then we had to get ready for good morning America. That was crazy, right Sammy?” Mal said with a wicked smile, completely cutting you off. Your mouth clicked shut and Kristie squeezed your thigh again (her jaw working overtime to prevent the scathing comment from leaving the tip of her tongue).

Mal had been impossible since you stepped foot into the hotel the USWNT had commandeered for camp. She had swung between outright bitchy and underhanded reminders of Jill's preference of her over you all day and Kristie was getting sick of it. Your shoulders slouched a little more with every remark, every jab clouding over a little bit more of your sunshine.

“That was pretty crazy,” Sam nodded, watching you and her sister carefully. She was trying to run as much interference as she could, but it seemed your sister wanted to make you as uncomfortable as possible. Almost like she was trying to drive you off the team.

“Definitely not as crazy as that party right after we won. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much champagne in my entire life. Not even after we beat Texas,” Mal added, and you shivered at the memory, wilting under her glare.

It was your freshman year (and coincidentally Mal’s senior year), and the first time the two of you had ever really played against each other. UCLA decimated your team and took over a frat house to celebrate. From what you heard, it was one of the biggest parties Texas A&M had ever seen.

Kristie sighed, wrapping the arm that was on your leg around your back, rubbing soothing circles. You leaned into the touch, still playing with the food on your plate, trying to hold your tongue and not rise to Mal’s prodding.

“From what I hear there was a lot of alcohol after Houston won the challenge cup,” Sam nodded, sharing a look with her sister and side-eyeing her friend.

“That was just beer, Sammy. It wasn’t as classy because no one cares about an arbitrary chaos cup win, especially after we won the World Cup. It’s all about scale,” Mal continued, completely ignoring the glare Kristie had pointed at her, enjoying the way you were squirming in your chair.

You shoved your plate away, giving up on eating. You didn’t want to be here.

“I'm sure. I’m gonna go. The uniform staff wanted to see me anyway,” You mumbled, just loud enough for Kristie to hear you (or so you thought).

Mal’s vicious smile grew. She just couldn’t seem to help herself when it came to you. You were always chasing after her, and this time she had done what you couldn’t. She wasn’t ready to give that up yet.

“I’d tell you to switch names, but all I can suggest is to pick a number you can actually live up to,” She sneered.

Your entire being froze and you blinked owlishly at your older sister (taking comfort in how Kristie's arm tightened around you). 13 had been your number since high school, but you knew that Alex was a vet and you weren’t stupid (or disrespectful) enough to even dream of trying to take it. You knew you would never be even close to the level of Alex Morgan.

You had accepted that and Instead chosen a different number, one you were proud to wear. You had no control over the last name on your jersey (until Kristie and you decided you wanted to get married, if you wanted to get married, and that was still pretty far off).

“Come on. They wanted to do a quick check-in with me too,” Kristie said, standing and dragging you with her out of the room, her eyes sending daggers towards your sister. She was done watching you collapse back into yourself.

****

Sam stared at Mal’s Cheshire Cat grin, her mouth agape. She didn’t understand why your older sister was being like this, or how she could continue eating as though she didn’t just rip you apart. (And at this rate someone had to stop her before Kristie killed her).

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sam said, leaning forward and resting both elbows on the table.

Mal shrugged, taking another sip of her orange juice. “What? I’m just being realistic,”

If you didn’t want to hear stories about their triumph at the World Cup, or how awesome the party was afterward, you could just find yourself a new seat (and take your girlfriend with you- you always did have to outdo her).

“You were a little harsh babe,” Rose said softly, patting the forward's hand.

Sam scoffed loudly, shaking her head. “She practically crumbled under that last comment,”

It was painful to watch your shy bean self withdraw back into the shell her sister worked so hard to crack. Even if you had Kristie here to support you, she wasn’t sure how long you would last without bursting into tears or getting into a screaming match with your sister. You were under enough pressure as it was.

“She’s just overly sensitive. If she wants to play in the big leagues she’s going to have to learn to stand up for herself,” Mal rolled her eyes.

It was a going joke in your family that Mal got the brains and beauty, while you just got the leftover emotions. Ever since you were kids, she had been the extroverted one saving you from bullies and being the “good example” that her parents wanted her to be. But this was her thing, and she didn’t want you horning in on it. (It was also a slight protective instinct too. She would rather be the one giving you shit than the media. They were ruthless and you would probably never forgive her. The road to hell was paved with good intentions after all.)

Sam sighed, taking in how Mal’s eyes tighten just a touch beneath her nonchalance. As much as she wanted to pretend she didn’t care about you, it was obvious that she did. The questions now were if she was willing to have a change of attitude and if she would even be able to repair the damage she had already done.

“Just be careful with how far you push her, alright?” Sam said thoughtfully.

Mal rolled her eyes again, any care she may have felt disappearing. “I know what I’m doing Sam,”

“I really hope you do, because I remember what it was like to always be trying to live up to your older sister and how difficult that was. And Kristie knew when to cut me some slack,” Sam said, raising her eyebrow at the younger woman.

She really hoped she could get through to her before Mal lost you, and Kristie kicked her head off.

*****

You sighed into Kristie's lips, enjoying the way her hips pinned you to the wall and her tongue explored your mouth. You weren’t one for public displays of affection, but she had dragged you into an abandoned corner of the hotel after your sister's clear display of disdain.

You guessed an upside to being at camp with Mal was your girlfriend's desire to cheer you up. You always responded better to physical contact (which was why Kristie used it to help you calm down all the time).

You hummed as the hands under your shirt made their way up to cup your cheeks, her fingers tangling in the baby hairs at the back of your neck. She let the kiss continue for another minute, before pulling back, so her lips were just barely ghosting over your own and your foreheads were touching.

You futilely tried to push off the wall and chase her lips, only for her to chuckle and pull back so you couldn’t reach, keeping you pinned with her hips.

“Ah, no more kisses until you say it,” She mumbled, her breath fanning across your lips.

You whined. You loved how supportive Kristie was, but you didn’t want to do this right now. You didn’t want to go through your normal reaffirmation routine. Not after the shots, Mal had taken at you.

“But-“

Kristie chucked at the keening whine again, shaking her head (both at how adorable your pout was and because she was standing her ground). She learned a long time ago that the best way to stop your mental spiraling was for you to say how worth it you were. “No buts. To get what you want you gotta say it,”

You huffed, I ally opening your eyes to look into Kristie’s determined blue. She raised her eyebrow at you.

“I’m an amazing person, no matter what anyone says,” You mumbled, looking away from your girlfriend. She hummed, using her thumb to tilt your chin back up.

“And?” She asked, a smile playing on her lips. Your pout deepened. You were set to start and Mal had made you feel bad about it. Now Kristie was trying to get you to admit that you deserved the opportunity.

The two of you stared at each other for a long minute, and you debated in trying to get back to the kissing again, to not say the last part of your mantra. Kristie's thumb ran soothingly over your cheek as if she was reading your mind. “Come on babe,” she said softly.

You bit your lip, finally giving in. “I shouldn’t feel guilty about opportunities I receive,”

“Good,” Kristie smiled, leaning back in to connect your lips. You smiled back into the kiss. Maybe things weren’t so bad if you got this treatment after your sister was mean to you, even if Kristie was trying to get you to finally confront her about her behavior. “And for the record, you can always say you’ll have a cooler last name later,”

*****

This was getting out of hand. Very out of hand. You hit the ground again, your face scraping against the turf after another bad tackle. You groaned, pushing yourself up off the turf and brushing yourself off, ignoring the hand of the defender in front of you in favor of taking the hand your girlfriend offered.

Kristie glared at the blond defender, very pissed off that she was pushing you so hard. “Fucking watch it Sonnett, another tackle like that and I’ll beat your ass myself,” Your girlfriend growled, brushing a stray piece of turf off your back.

Emily shrugged, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. “Just trying to test the Rookie. Need to make sure she can handle a little pressure,”

She liked you, but with the pressure, Mal was putting n you, she thought that they were all going to go hard. To show you exactly how difficult this game could be and how much you needed to work to be on their level.

“I think Mal is doing enough of that on her own,” Kristie raised her eyebrow at the woman, still rubbing the turf off your back and cringing at the new burn. If this hadn’t been a teammate’s doing, she probably would have killed them by now. Ripped them limb from limb for touching you, but you didn’t need that. You needed her support and not her overprotectiveness.

“She actually needs to be able to play against Canada,” Sam said, patting her back. Emily shook her head. Mal was right. She would rather be the one to go hard on you and prepare you than some random defender who didn’t care at all.

As far as she was concerned, Mal’s plan was still in effect and you were going to have to pull some trick to get past her again.

****

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Kristie threaded a ball through the gap between Becky and Julie, straight to you. You turned, taking advantage of the gap in the backline, dribbling across to try and get a clear shot.

You didn’t see that gap collapsing. You didn’t see Emily and Midge racing towards you until it was too late. There was a loud crunch as you were caught between the two defenders, and tumbled to the ground.

The reaction from the rest of the team was instant. Kristie raced over, followed closely by Sam. Both women kneeling down next to you, trying to get you to roll over. It seemed that another blue blur was already laying into the two defenders.

“Lay the fuck off my sister,” Mal yelled, shoving Sonnett back from where her shifting form was standing over you.

Emily held her hands up in defense, stumbling away from you. “I’m just trying to keep the intensity up, exactly like you are,”

Mal growled audibly, stepping up to the taller defender and wrapping her fist into her shirt. “It’s different. She’s my sister and I’m the only one who gets to fuck with her. Got it,” she said her voice deadly calm.

Emily nodded rapidly, her eyes wide as Mal straightened her shirt, patting her shoulder. Emily backed away slowly, her hands still extended, terrified that Mal (and your girlfriend) would decide to actually kill her.

Mal nodded once the offending defenders were far enough away from you, before turning in your direction.

You were finally on your feet, shifting awkwardly and rubbing the back of your neck.

“Thanks,” You mumbled as she approached.

She smiled, pulling you into a very strange hug.“You got it, kid. I love you, even if you’re not as good as me yet,”

She let you go and winked. You smiled and trotted off back to your position, warmth filling you. Sure you weren’t on the best terms, but you were sisters and the act was like a white flag. A truce.

Kristie caught Mal’s arms as she passed. “Learn to lay off a little bit. I don’t want to have to hurt you,”

Mal nodded. You were family mad the only one who got to mess with you was her. She would kill anyone else who tried and she was glad you had gained two protectors.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #kristie mewis imagine #kristie mewis x reader

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realcube · 4 years ago

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secretly dating the haikyuu!! boys 🤫

summary: you’ve been dating your partner in secret up until now, when their team finds out

characters: hinata, oikawa & bokuto

thanks to anon for the request 💗

tw// fem! reader, sexual references, swearing

Shōyō Hinata

he kept the relationship a secret bc of noya IEFBEVAGLEB

ok ok lemme explain

you said jokingly once that you were into shorter guys in response to hinata asking something lovey-dovey along the lines of ‘what did i do to deserve you? 😍’

and hinata has been on edge ever since pfft

i mean, he just thins noya is such a cool guy and an awesome upperclassmen- why wouldn’t you want him?

but he couldn’t afford losing you to this teammate so he did everything in his power to make sure that you never crossed paths with nishinoya- which included not telling his team about you

it was so hard for him as well bc he wanted to show you off to his teammates so bad especially stinkyshima 🥺

but he couldn’t :((

you never really inquired about it though, even when he’d get all weird when you’d come pick him up from practise

then the faithful day arrived, when kageyama watched you stroll into the class, hand hinata something, place a kind kiss on his cheek before taking your leave

he didn’t question it though- he couldn’t be bothered lol

the only time he ever brought it up was 2 weeks later in the changing room when tsukishima was making fun of him for being unable to ask out a girl for an upcoming dance

so kageyama retorted with ‘it’s not like you get any girls either, shittyshima! even hinata gets more action than you!’

hinata’s blood ran cold and he froze

tsukishima hummed in response, prodding kageyama to elaborate, ‘i saw him kissing a girl in class the other day-- have you ever kissed someone before?’

although that last part was meant to be a dig, it sounded more like a genuine question

yamaguchi peered over his shoulder to join the conversation, ‘is that true, hinata?’

hinata stood frozen for a little while longer before releasing a heavy sigh, ‘yes. but please don’t tell anyone else.’

‘why not?’ tsukishima pried.

‘none of your business, stinkyshima!’

that nickname was what prompted tsukishima to stroll out of the changing the room and disguise ‘hinata has a girlfriend’ behind a cough in front of the whole team

‘you said you weren’t going to tell anyone!’ hinata yelled, slightly red from the fact everyone was now staring at him - including coach ukai, takeda, kiyoko & yachi

‘what? it was just a cough.’ tsukishima snickered but promptly received an elbow to the stomach from yamaguchi

daichi rubbed hinata’s back while reassuring him that he didn’t have to tell them anything he didn’t want to but meanwhile, hinata’s eyes were fixated on nishinoya

‘i- i do have a girlfriend.’ he stuttered, figuring that he wasn’t going to be able to hide it forever — plus, he felt foolish for not trusting you to begin with. ‘her name is (l/n).’

yachi choked on her water, ‘she sits next to me in class!’

ngl yachi probably had a lil’ crush on you at some point but these are just headcanons, not a full blown fic so i cba to write a love triangle

‘cool’ hinata murmured in response before continuing, ‘she said that she will come see me after practise today so i guess you’ll see her then.’

by now, most people were shooting hinata comforting smiles and muttering their congratulations but those were all drowned out by nishinoya and tanaka’s loud offers

‘wow, hinata. you really got a chick before your senpais. i’m not sure whether to be proud or jealous!’ tanaka said, wiping an invisible tear from his eye

‘proud, ryū! we clearly did a good job in teaching him how to make advances on the ladies.’ nishinoya cheered before turning to grab hinata’s shoulders and pull him close, ‘now, hinata, if you ever need advice remember that you can come to us! we’re kinda professionals when it comes to relationships and stuff!’

hinata nodded rapidly, his lips slowly curling into a smile as he wondered; what was i so worried about? of course (y/n) would never cheat on me and noya would never make moves on my girlfriend

when you arrived, you were rather confused when hinata greeted you with his usual vigour rather than his hasty, rushed greetings for when you met him after practise

also, you were perplexed as to why many peeping eyes were staring at the pair of you from the gym door as he peppered your face with kisses - and why was one of them Yachi?

‘uuh, shō, are those your teammates?’ you inquired, gesturing to the peepers behind y’all

hinata peered over his shoulder and chuckled at how ‘discreet’ they were being,’uh- yeah.’

suddenly, yachi and sugawara popped out from behind the walls, ‘hello, (l/n)!’ they both yelled in unison

you smiled, looking at them and realising this was probably the first time you’ve ever been acknowledged by his teammates

‘hi, yachi and--’

hinata hastily whispered in your ear, ‘sugawara.’

‘sugawara!’

hinata finally got to introduce you to all his teammates and he was so hyped

he had a foolishly wide grin on his face the whole time

he’s just so happy that the person he loves can finally meet the people who help him do what he loves

Tōru Oikawa

y’all kept the relationship secret bc you didn’t want to get nasty glares from oikawa’s fangirls and he didn’t want to get teased by iwa so it was a win/win

although you had to be cautious when showing PDA, it didn’t mean y’all didn’t do it at all

there was just something about knowing that what you were doing was risky, which made you want to do it even more

so sometimes y’all would do that thing where you arrange certain times to ask for the bathroom during class so you could see each other in the corridor

and since it was during class, there was virtually nobody else in the hallway

so y’all would literally just go for it

kissing as if you had never experienced human affection before

but since you both were so into it, you’d never notice kyōtani walk by, on his way back from the principal’s office

he’d even let out a low scoff every time

but you were both just so in the moment that you’d never even notice

word spreads fast in the seijoh boys’ volleyball club, though

but slightly slower when it starts with kyōtani

like what reason does he have to tell anybody about what he saw? he doesn’t want to relive those events

but during a bitching session with yahaba, he spilled about oikawa and you since the captain had been working them extra hard lately, as if he was the coach tsk

so ofc the gossip spread across multiple bitching session from yahaba, to kunimi, to kindaichi, to watari, to hanamaki then finally to matsukawa

(iwaizumi didn’t get to know bc firstly he didn’t join in with bitching sessions and secondly, everyone knew that iwa would just immediately tell oikawa and that would ruin all the fun)

it got to the point where almost everyone on the team knew about you and oikawa so whenever he would walk into practise, a chorus of low giggles and whispers would spread across the gym

this had been going on for about a month now and at first, oikawa was too self-indulged to notice

but after a bit longer, he kinda noticed and brought it up to iwaizumi

‘hey, why does everyone start acting weird whenever i walk into the room?’

iwaizumi rolled his eyes, shoving a ball against oikawa’s chest, ‘what? no, they don’t; stop being so paranoid. now, throw me some sets.’

that was enough reassurance for oikawa to ignore it for a while but then hanamaki accidentally made one of the jokes a bit too loud

oikawa fell face first into the gym floor after tripping over his lace and the whole gym seemed to erupt into laughter

‘hah!’ matsukawa wheezed, ‘stop kissin’ the ground, tōru!’

‘mwah, mwah!’ yahaba teased

hanamaki suddenly chimed in, ‘yeah, save that shit for (y/n)!--’

silence spread like a plague across the whole gym room

it was only broken when iwaizumi let out a clueless, ‘huh?’

oikawa quickly scurried onto his feet, ‘how do you know about (y/n)?’

hanamaki chuckled awkwardly as he looked left to right for help but was just met by blank stares, ‘uh- she’s- erm, in my homeroom class.’

obviously, oikawa didn’t buy it

‘who told you about me and (y/n)?’ he inquired in a sinister tone of voice, his glare seeming anything but kind

‘watari!’ he yelled accusingly, pointing his index finger at the poor libero

after all eyes shifted onto him, watari wasted no time in redirecting everyone’s attention onto kindaichi, ‘it was turnip-head who told me!’

‘well, it was kunimi that told me!’ kindaichi shouted with no hesitation

kumini crossed his arms over his chest, ‘yahaba told me.’

yahaba’s eyes widened at the sudden accusation before turning to oikawa and defending himself, ‘mad dog was the one that saw you and (y/n) kissing in the hallway!’

mad dog glared at the pinch server, then turned to oikawa and shrugged

oikawa was livid DIUVBEVILS

‘YOU ALL KNEW ABOUT ME AND (Y/N) BUT DIDN’T TELL ME?! HOW LONG HAVE YOU GUYS BEEN GOSSIPING ABOUT US FOR?!’

yahaba took it upon himself to reply, ‘mad dog only told me about a month ago-’

‘THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON FOR A WHOLE MONTH?!’

faint hums of ‘yeah’ and ‘uhuh’ were heard across the gym hall

‘wait-’ iwaizumi cocked his head to the side, ‘are you dating (y/n)?’

this inquiry was only met by blank stares as oikawa pinched his temple, wondering what he should do now

‘why did you try to hide your relationship for so long?’ kindaichi asked before kunimi added, ‘yeah, can we finally meet her?’

matsukawa rolled his eyes, ‘she literally goes to our school; meet her in the hallway or something.’

oikawa shook his head, quickly shutting down matsukawa’s idea, ‘i’ll ask her to come over after practise today but be on your best behaviour.’ he sung, quickly grabbing a ball and going back to practising receives

everyone was rather shocked at how fast the captains’ demeanour changed

while you were at your own club, you got a message from oikawa asking if you wanted to meet his team

you had already met most of them outside of volleyball but you figured now was perhaps a good time to introduce yourself as oikawa’s gf to rub it in /j

before you arrived, oikawa made it explicitly clear that they weren’t to tell anybody about the relationship or else oikawa’s fangirls would come for you

they all agreed and patiently waited for you to arrive

honestly, iwaizumi was probably the only one with pure intentions when it came to finally meeting you — as he simply wanted to see the girl who has oikawa’s heart

the rest of them of the other hand 🙄

matsukawa and hanamaki planned to have a competition to see who could seduce you first

watari, kindaichi and kunimi wanted to just tease oikawa in front you

and yahaba was going to try get you to tell him all the gossip about oikawa 😈

(kyōtani left early)

so needless to say you were hardly charmed when you formally met the bunch of boys oikawa spends his time with

‘so are you free tonight orrr?’ hanamaki questioned, promptly getting a slap to the back of the head from both oikawa and matsukawa

‘makki, a lady like her shouldn’t be spoken to like that,’ matsukawa pushed his friend aside, ‘watch this: hey, sweetie. what is a gal--’

matsukawa got the same treatment as makki except this time it was kindaichi pushing him away, ‘so how much is oikawa paying you to play his girlfriend?’

you couldn’t help but giggle, especially as you could see oikawa from over his shoulder, shooting him the deadliest glare

kunimi poked his head around kindaichi arm to look at you, ‘i’m guessing ¥3000 an hour.’

‘(y/n) is worth way more than ¥3000 an hour!’ oikawa yelled from behind the crowd of boys surrounding you

yahaba hurried forward, slipped his arm around your waist and escorting you a few paces away from the others to whisper in your ear, ‘does oikawa have any embarrassing childhood pictures?’

you snickered, leaning in and whispering back, ‘yeah, i’ll send them to you on instagram.’

ok. although they weren’t the most charming- they were definitely a fun bunch lol

Kōtarō Bokuto

a secret relationship w/ bokuto has hardly a secret lol

plus, the ‘secret’ part is only gonna last MAX a month ✋

he tries to ‘act natural’ around his teammates but it’s a bit- too natural

he’ll come back from a make-out session with you, lipstick smeared across his face and just be like ‘hey y’all! ✌ good vibes today’

or when he’d take off his shirt to reveal the scratch marks on his back, that he wasn’t even aware of

or the hickeys that he wouldn’t even bother try to hide

so the whole team were aware that bokuto had a partner- they just weren’t sure who it was

but they didn’t really mention anything to bokuto bc they srsly didn’t care which left bokuto under the impression that he was sneaky as hell

akaashi was kinda upset that bokuto didn’t tell him about you tho but he kept that to himself

everyone was silently curious as to who bokuto was dating but none of them actually spoke up about it

until one day, konoha was chatting to komi, thinking they weren’t being listened to since bokuto seemed preoccupied with practising spikes, ‘psst, komi. i saw bokuto walk home with (y/n) the other day, i think she might be the one he’s da--’

but bokuto develops super-hearing when you’re involved

he was now looming over komi and konoha in what felt like a blink of an eye, ‘what did you say about (y/n)?’ he asked in a rather gruff voice

both boys were taken back by their captain’s sudden change in mood but komi managaed to stutter out, ‘oh- konoha just saw you walking home with her the other day; you both make a very cute couple.’

all sense of menace or threat was washed out of bokuto’s tone as his lips formed a bright smile, ‘awww, thanks! we do-- wait!’

bokuto cut himself off and the boys started snickering, ‘so it’s (y/n) that you’re dating.’ komi stated the obvious, this time loud enough for the whole gym to hear.

bokuto couldn’t help but face-palm, his sweaty hands making a loud, wet slapping noise against his skin. ‘ugh! i wasn’t supposed to tell you that.’ he grumbled, eyeing everyone in the gym that was sending him astonished looks

after a while of sulking in his emo-mode..with help from akaashi, bokuto finally tried to see the positives in the situation

‘well, maybe today she can finally meet you all.’ bokuto murmured, eyes full of hope which could hardly be seen passed the strands of his deflated hair that hung in front of his face

‘sure.’ akaashi shrugged, seeing nothing wrong with this idea

there was a lot of things wrong, though

firstly, you were at your own club which finished ten minutes after practise ended, which means bokuto had to use his puppy-eyes on everyone on the team to convince them into staying for ten minutes extra

secondly, bokuto was so hyped that you were finally meeting his teammates, an introduction for each person took like 5 minutes

bokuto inhaled sharply to catch his breath from the last introduction he just did, ‘ok next, this is washio, he’s one of our middle blockers bc he is so damn tall - say hi, washio. his eyebrows might make you think that he is a meanie or something — that’s what i thought at first — but he’s really not. he offered me some of his lunch after i forgot to bring money that day so he’s definitely a good egg. he’s also a really good blocker and he has similar hair to me so i think that’s why he’s so good. also, he’s really good at making tea.’

ok now imagine that but for every. single. member.

he also gives you an extra ass intro too lol

‘(y/n), this is onaga. onaga this is my beautiful, stunning, flawless girlfriend (y/n) — she’s the sweetest person ever and she give the sweetest kisses on the face of this earth.’

please don’t be embarrassed he just loves you so much

#haikyu x reader #hinata x reader #oikawa toru x reader #bokuto x reader #hinata x you #hinata fluff #hinata x y/n #oikawa imagine #oikawa scenarios #bokuto fluff #bokuto x y/n #bokuto x you #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#hinata hcs #oikawa hcs #bokuto hcs

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heyheyloki · 4 years ago

Text

Why Stop Now

Summary: Reid starts getting jealous when witnesses start to hit on the reader.

Spencer Reid x M!Reader

Word Count: 2677

The case before the BAU team was getting tedious, to say the least. It was one of those cases that needs witnesses to actually get a step ahead of the unsub who left basically no evidence behind. It was surely pissing off the team, but it pissed you off the most. You were someone who needed control, someone who couldn’t stand the taunts of others. That was profiled about you when you first joined, but you didn’t have a probably showing that side of you off at times. So, at that point it was just a simple fact that surrounded your complex personality.

“This shit sucks,” You hissed out as you slammed your hands against the table, looking at the pictures of the victims. Searching eyes hoping, praying that you had for once missed something. “This is seriously pissing me off.”

“You know you didn’t miss anything. I don’t know why you’re looking at them.” A voice called out from behind you. The footsteps they took now clear as day as you watched Spencer Reid come to your side.

“You’re only going to stress yourself out.” He said in a sweet, mellow tone that made you take in a few deep breaths.

“I know,” you uttered out before turning to him. One hand still on the table to hold your weight. “I just want to help these girls and I can’t do that until I find more things out about our unsub.”

Reid’s face leaned to the side a bit. A small frown on his lips as he stared at you with soft, kind eyes. “I know you do, but you aren’t going to get anything more from them.”

You press your lips together, frustrated at the situation before you. “So what? I have to wait for another woman to die to catch this son of a bitch?

Reid looks down for a moment before saying softly, “Well, we have another witnesses in here, Hotch asked me to come find you.”

“Again?” You asked in a groan. “Please don’t tell me they’re gonna make goggly eyes more at me than actually answer the questions.”

“That’s why Hotch asked me to get you. He wants you to ask them some questions.” Reid informed you. “I’ll stay with you, if you want.”

You gave a soft smile at the taller male before you pressed your hand against his shoulder, rolling it down before making soft motions with your thumb against his chest. “You’re sweet. I appreciate it, Spence.”

He nodded his head, grabbing your hand that flushed against him. He squeezed it a few times as you watched the most faint blush you’ve seen on him appear against his pale cheeks. It was heart-warming that you were still able to make him blush the way he does by such a simple expression of affection, especially since you’ve been together for a little more than a couple of months now.

“It’s no problem.” He stated before quickly leaning in and planting a soft kiss against your cheek. A giggle immediately coming from your chest as soon as you felt his hot lips against your cool skin. In all honestly, physical contact at work between the two of you was never a thing. Even by if it was just the two of you at yours or Spence’s place, the most you guys did was a kiss here or a few cuddles there. And honestly, you had to make the moves a couple of times given Spencer and his issue with physical contact. He did get used to your touch fairly quickly though, and he enjoyed it.

When you both approached the witnesses that was sitting near your desk, she looked you up and down, the look in her orbs pure lust. She was a short woman with voluptuous build. She wore a simple white crop top, sporting high waist jeans. It was obvious what kinda aura she gave off. It was both responsible, yet at the same time, someone who liked to have fun.

The ends of her lips quickly churning up at the side of you. Her legs quickly crossed over one another, her mouth slightly open as she chewed her gum.

Spence immediately read her like a book, but he tried not to show his growing irritation. He knew you were good-looking, and he knew people would look. Though, it was just annoying at how much it was happening at one day. Especially at work.

“Hello, ma’am.” You said with a smile before introducing yourself. Your hand then gesturing to your boyfriend before saying, “And this is Doctor Spencer Reid. We’ll be taking your statements today.”

The lady didn’t respond at first, but instead take in your handsome features for a moment before saying, “You can take a lot more then just my statement, baby.”

You gave a soft chuckle as you cupped the back of your neck. It did catch you a bit off guard, but not so much any more since this has been happening for around three hours now. You did, for some reason unknown to you, look over at Spence. The look in his eyes made you frown. It wasn’t anger, but rather, extreme discomfort.

“Right,” you hummed out before sitting on the edge of your desk. Spence taking a step to move closer to your side.

“Can you take me from the beginning? What did you see?” You asked in a stern toning, telling her not to play around anymore.

Her eyes played with yours for a moment before agreeing to answer your questions. It was okay at first, she didn’t seem all that distracted like the others before with your presence, but after getting mid-way into her story, her hand started to dance along your desk. It was obvious how close it was getting to your thigh, both to Spencer and you.

It was like a spider trying to go after its prey. Overall, it was uncomfortable, but you knew you had to focus on her story before even thinking about her hand. It’s one thing if it was just approaching, but another if it actually touches you.

“I mean, the dude was weird, sure, but I didn’t think he’d be kidnapping and killin’ girls, yanno?” She asked, her fingers creeping their way across on your outter thigh.

Your body flinched on instinct for just a moment before you immediately moved your leg, now standing up next to Spence. You could see the small disappointment in her face, but you could honestly care less. You got her story, so now you were finished. At least, that’s what you thought.

“Thanks again, ma’am.” You stated with a kind smile for Hotchner’s sake. You then took out your card that held your number and name, moving it in her direction as you said, “If you think of anything else, doesn’t hesitate to call.”

She gazed at the card for a second before taking it. And while normal people would take it right away, she held on and swiftly moved her hand to touch your own. Her thumb moving in circle, suggestive movement along the top of your hand. You didn’t know if she caught on that you already were taken and trying to do it discreetly since the card was in the way, or just doing it for the fun of it.

“Believe me, sugar, you’ll get a call from me.” She stated in a seductive tone. “You don’t mind some calls at, well, before bedtime, right?”

Then, she did that and it was like everything stopped. Both for Spence and you.

She smirked.

It was one of those smirks that really made something turn within you that was pure fear mixed with uneasiness. The uneasiness coming from your wonder on how Spence was doing. You knew he had trust in you, as you did him. Though, even you would break under all this reckless flirting. Especially at the work place where it was unprofessional to engage in public displays of affection.

“No, sorry, ma’am.” You stated sternly. Your face devoid of any sweetness you might have shown before. “Please, just anything related to this case and nothing else.”

You watched carefully as a bitter sense took her over before she stood up abruptly and said, “Fine.”

And with that, she left. Honestly, you felt so relived that you let out a deep sigh from your lips, unaware of how much air you kept built up in your lungs.

“Glad that’s over,” you huffed out. Your body turning to face Spence, your mouth hanging out a bit to speak once more. Though, when you saw his face, it was like your veins became invaded with ice. You couldn’t move, and if you did, you felt like you’d break.

His eyes blasted directly into yours, almost completely shutting down your sharp-mouthed tongue that got you into trouble with Hotch frequently. They didn’t carry anger, nor sadness. It was something that made your chest tighten, knees completely weak. It made your heart skip a beat, almost breaking a rib with how hard it pounded for that split moment.

“Spence?” You mumbled out. “Something wrong?”

“They kept making passes at you,” he uttered out. His voice barely even audible.

“They did.” You stated. You didn’t know where this was going.

“And I was right here. Right in front of them. Next to you. It was like they didn’t even care if they were making a move on you while I was around.” Spence ranted on, his tone of voice growing more and more irritated as he went one.

“Spence, I don’t think she even knew I was dating someone. Much less having that person be standing right next to me.” You explained kindly. You get how he felt, you did. So, you just planned on trying to make him feel better in any way you could.

Though, as you were about to step forward and maybe grab his hand to reassure him that everything was still alright, he moved first. His tall figure stood right in front of you, barely even a foot away. His face slowly inching towards you despite where you both were.

“Come with me for a second,” he whispered, his hand slowly moving down your arm, that feeling alone causing goosebumps to graze your skin before he held your hand within his.

“Okay.” You agreed, wondering what you were even doing.

He didn’t even have a smile perk up on his lips when you agreed, but instead stared you up and down. Slowly, carefully his eyes traveled your body. You shied your head away as you let Spence lead you into the changing rooms the officers use in the morning after their shift was over.

You noticed Spence make sure no one was inside before his long, slender fingers locked the door. You couldn’t help but remain still, trying to wrap your head around his sudden change in demeanor. You knew he was jealous, it was obvious to anyone. But it was odd at the same time since he was never one to start much of anything, still, in the end when he backed you into the lockers, you weren’t complaining much.

“Spence, you sure?” You mumbled under your breath as you flickered your eyes between his own and those soft lips that slowly approached yours.

He didn’t answer you with words, but instead gave you answer when he pressed his lips against your own. You were quick to wrap your arms around his neck, taking one of your hands and lacing it through his long, curly locks and the other resting on the base of his jaw. You thought it would be a few sweet kisses and than back to work, maybe even some jealous words, but the moment he started to play with the end of your shirt you knew this was going in a completely different direction.

To keep his lips to yours you moved your hand that rested on his jaw over to his own, guiding his hand under your clothes. You groaned into the kiss at the sudden chill that ran up your spine when your hot skin collided with his rather chilly fingertips. It was an intoxicating feeling, one that made you desire more.

When he got the hint that you were okay with his touch, you noticed how quick the atmosphere changed. Within mere seconds he started to push himself more against you, giving you little room to escape with your back flat against the lockers and him on you as well.

Spencer’s hand start to slide more up your body, feeling every inch of you that he desired. His touch was both full of affection yet the lust you noticed as well was undeniable. It was as if he revealed something that he had kept hidden within himself for a long time now, and you were happy that he felt like he could share that side of himself with you.

Though, as the sinful urges started to start showing their true colors, the need for air started to dominate. When Spencer unlocked his lips from your own, your breath got stuck in your throat. The look in his eyes was nothing to just brush off as passion. It was like something darker took over, something that he needed to chain down almost all the time. His chestnut orbs held a film over them that was swirling with red, as well as a need that only you could fulfill.

In a swift movement, Spence’s head moved lower, his lips aiming at something different this time around. A soft gasp escaped past you when you felt his lips latch onto your neck, kissing, biting, and sucking at your skin. It felt good, so good that you suddenly moved one of your legs up and wrapped it around his hips. His free hand that wasn’t exploding your body gripped onto your thigh, holding it in place.

The more he ravished you, the louder you got. At first it was simple heavy breathing but you swore he was aiming at all of the weak spots on your neck and collarbones that turned you into a mess before him. Though, you didn’t think you were so loud for him to suddenly growl, “Try to keep quiet. We don’t want to get caught.”

Your eyes widened a bit before you leaned your head to the side shyly. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I don’t enjoy hearing you,” he mumbled, his words peaking with more embarrassment than a pure teasing tone.

You nodded, your hands moving down his back and gripping hard onto his shirt as you allowed yourself to be swallowed up by the pleasure he was giving you. You really don’t remember how much time passed, maybe a few minutes, maybe ten. Still, by the time both of you calmed down and made sure to get your fill from the other, someone started to knock on the locked door.

Both of you two looked at each other, some fear running through your orbs before hearing the familiar voice of Derek Morgan say, “If you two don’t hurry up, Hotch will find out and get mad.”

“Shit,” you groaned as you tried your hardest to flatten out your now disheveled shirt.

“Sorry about that,” Spence said shyly as he scratched the back of his head, wondering if he should try to help you or not.

You let out a deep sigh before planting a soft kiss on Spence’s cheek, his face heating up in a mere seconds. “It’s okay. C’mon, we should get back to work.”

“Right..” His voice trailed off in a shy manner, his fingers lacing with yours once more as he returned the favor. This time, placing a soft and chaste kiss upon your lips. It was full of love and affection, something that made you hum lovingly into.

“Hopefully we don’t get anymore witnesses.” You groaned as you walked ahead, flattening your hair.

Spence couldn’t help but laugh at your words before following behind you back into the professional setting. Luckily for the both of you, Hotch never found out, or he made it seem like he had no idea. Still, you had your doubts since Morgan and Garcia were almost relentless in teasing your boyfriend and you for a straight week.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid fluff #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x male reader #male reader #x male reader

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kevindayscrown · 3 years ago

Text

One shot of Kevin not knowing how to show he cares (ft KevNeil)

Display of emotions had always been a tough matter for Kevin. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been on the receiving end of affection, or the last time someone had shown him he cared. His mother had died before he even turned ten, and the following years were a haze of constant pressure, punishment, repeat.

His only outlet was panic or anger, depending on the situation.

After his hand broke and everything he knew was stripped from him, he realized that there had been comfort in the known and familiar, even in an environment such as the one in the Nest. He had already been taught that his hands and his body in general must be preserved in a perfect condition, so he could keep playing.

That was the only show of care he had ever received in his years as a Raven. Even if it wasn’t genuine care for his wellbeing, but for his ability to keep playing, to keep being an asset.

Which was one of the reasons why he had a hard time displaying his care himself. Of course, part of it was because of the game, but when it came to certain people, it was a lot more than that.

The first game of the championships was against the Breckenridge Jackals. They always played dirty, and it was especially hard and tiring for Kevin and his still recovering left hand. After their game against the Ravens last year, he was using it a lot more often, but tough games like that one always put a strain on it. Thankfully, because of the new sub strikers they had recruited that year, he was able to play only during the first half.

Neil, stubborn as always, had talked it out with Wymack to play both halves. Kevin didn’t put much of a fight, because Neil was quickly rising to become one of the best strikers among the Class I teams, and worthy enough to stand by Kevin’s side both in the eyes of the fans and the rankings.

Kevin watched from the benches intensely during the second half, green eyes following the red head as he run up and down the court almost effortlessly. Whenever he pulled something stupid, Kevin would bang the plexiglass wall and Neil would get the message.

That didn’t mean he would always listen though.

Kevin had warned him to reserve his energy for the last half and give it his all in the last few minutes. However, Neil had tired himself out, and with that, his patience ran thin as well.

He had possession of the ball and was heading for the goal. Kevin watched him, but also had his eyes on the Jackal that was fast approaching. He somehow hoped that Neil would pass the ball to Robin, but instead the red head tried to maneuver and get himself out of the tough spot. Having tired himself out, he didn’t quite achieve that.

The Jackal slammed him hard against the wall, and Neil’s hand got trapped between the bodies and his own racquet, hard enough to echo against the court.

The referee blew his whistle immediately, but Kevin was faster as he called for a sub to take Neil’s place while the paramedics checked on the striker’s hand. Kevin rushed to where Neil was now sitting, with ice pressed up against his wrist.

“Are you fucking deaf?!” Kevin called and tugged at the grated part of Neil’s helmet so he would look up at him, blue eyes piercing green ones. “I’ve warned you time and time again. Don’t pull shit like that. If you fuck up your hand-,”

“Kevin,” Dan started but he completely ignored her as he harshly tugged his glove off. The scars were perfectly visible, white and thick, a harsh reminder of that night.

“You have no idea what you are risking,” he hissed. “How many times will you have to find yourself in this position before you learn your lesson?”

Kevin was beyond himself, waiting for a response, only to get a stale “I’m fine.”

Kevin stared at Neil, trying hard to not snap at him where everyone could see them. Neil didn’t understand what losing everything could do to him. Not just for his Exy career. The last thing Kevin wanted was to see Neil go through something like what he had; months, years of hard work to get back to where he had been. All the disappointment and the exhaustion, physical and mental. So many close calls to giving up.

Wymack told Kevin to focus back on the game for now and surprisingly, Kevin cut the scolding short, which surprised Neil. In fact, Neil had never seen Kevin react this vividly. Sure, Kevin was always loud and pushy, but this kind of anger had taken the younger striker by surprise.

The Foxes won the game that night, but it didn’t feel like that in the atmosphere that had been created. Kevin was awfully quiet, not even bothering to go on a rant about what had gone wrong that night, like he always did.

Neil wasn’t particularly good with those kinds of confrontations, so he didn’t try saying anything either, even as the two of them retreated to their dorm room. Kevin showered, read a bit and then went to sleep without uttering a single word, leaving the red head in a state of confusion.

Neither of them had ever known anything else but fear and anger and hurt. Any other emotions had always been cast aside, neglected, pushed down. How were they supposed to allow them to resurface, even if they desperately needed to?

It took days for them to be forced to figure it out. Neil’s hand was indeed fine, he had just been advised to rest it for a week or so. However, all Kevin could think of were the countless what ifs. What if Neil’s hand had been broken beyond repair? He told himself that the logical explanation behind those persistent thoughts was Exy. Always had been, always will be.

And yet, it wasn’t.

“You are an idiot,” Neil finally said, after his first practice playing again. The locker rooms were empty, and it was just the two of them, packing up their things.

Kevin shot a glare at him after he was finished pulling a shirt on.

“I’m the idiot?” He demanded and banged his locker shut. “You are reckless Neil. You don’t give a fuck. This has to stop eventually.”

“I’m not going to risk your precious line up.”

“It’s not about the line up!”

The silence was deafening. Neil stared at Kevin and then his gaze was drawn by the hand, the now exposed scars,

“I don’t-,” Kevin stopped, trying to find the right words, but it felt as if they were stuck in his throat. He tried to force them out, clenching his hand tight, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Neil understood. It was one of the benefits of not being able to communicate verbally. They had to rely on different signals to get messages across. This was what it was all about.

He stood up from the bench and walked over to him. He grabbed Kevin’s hand and tugged harshly, enough to get his attention and make him look at him. The shorter striker then intertwined their fingers, trying to make this gesture a bit more affectionate and reassuring.

They said nothing as Neil leaned his forehead against Kevin’s shoulder, and Kevin closed his eyes, remaining silent as well. Touches were a bit easier, for reasons Kevin did not understand, but he still took it and gladly embraced it whenever he could.

“I’ll try,” Neil eventually said and then looked back up at Kevin. The latter nodded slowly.

“I’ve heard that before.” He sounded serious, but Neil knew him enough to be able to decipher it as Kevin’s attempt at teasing Neil. If anything, it was amusing, because anyone else would think Kevin was annoyed and angry – as always – but Neil knew better.

“Put your gear back on,” Neil said with a vicious grin and tugged at Kevin’s hand once again. Kevin raised an eyebrow and let him, until he was no longer standing in front of his locker. He watched Neil open it and toss the uniform and padding at Kevin.

After a couple more hours of intense practice, the two found themselves in the shower, sharing a stall as they washed the sweat away. Neil long ago had grown comfortable to put his scars on display in front of Kevin. He knew he wouldn’t judge nor nudge nor pity him. He understood, to a certain extent.

It was still mostly quiet, or with occasional banter, but this was their way of saying;

‘It’s okay.’

‘I’m here.’

‘It’s going to be alright.’

And it was a step forward to figuring it out.

#all for the game #aftg #neil josten #kevin day #kevneil #the foxhole court #tfc #the raven king #the kings men #dan wilds #david wymack #aftg fanfic #andrew minyard #matt boyd #palmetto state foxes

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notmrskennedy · 4 years ago

Text

Noticed

Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

A/N - Howdy! Here’s another little something from my drafts. It’s a draft and a half again so be gentle with it. Also, I’m touch averse and I would be so happy to find someone I wasn’t upset with touching. But c’est la vie! I hope y’all enjoy!

Summary - The touch averse agent starts getting touchy....

W/C - 2.5k

Warnings - none I think, but lmk if there is something

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If Morgan was being honest with himself, he thought you were dying. Or maybe ill. Or so feverish you’d abandoned every single principle you had. Because he’d been there that first day of yours, waltzing up from the coffee machine to see you nervously trailing behind Hotch. It was painful to watch, he remembers, so terribly nervous you’d envy the kid on one of his bad days.

He had smiled at you and stirred his coffee and remained optimistic that someone so obviously terrified would be a decent field agent. (You’d been decent and then some, especially in an interrogation room). There’d been one non-committal wave—distinctly reminiscent of a certain genius—and the first full sentence of, “I’m sorry, but I just don’t do the touching thing. Handshakes included.”

Every little touch plagues you. You’re six inches away at all times, lest someone accidentally bump into you or get the wrong idea that you might be willing to brush shoulders. There’s no friendly pats. No high fives. Certainly no hugs. Garcia is furious in her attempt to loosen you up—to no avail—but Morgan knows better than to push. Something makes you hate skin to skin contact and he’s not looking to share trauma stories with you. Not yet.

So this, Morgan thinks as he wanders into the bullpen while stirring his coffee, is a sign that you’ve lost your mind.

He watches as you carefully extend one palm to one Dr. Spencer Reid. Perched on the edge of his desk, you’re a regular fixture, just another cute figurine to add to the collection. It’s the end to some wild discussion he could hear in the kitchenette, full of flailing limbs and butchered sentences. Everyone always thought it was cute, if you stripped away how irritating it could be.

This is the point where you two are caught up in whatever moment you’re having, so much so that you extend an upturned palm between the two of you. Reid threads his hands through his hair, stunned at your peace offering. Or maybe an offering of something more than friendship. Morgan assumes its something more; not only because you have the softest grin he’s ever seen, but because your fingers are practically begging the kid to hold your hand.

Reid’s careful in how he asks his question—Morgan doesn’t know what it is, but he can just tell. The wide eyes. The scared contemplation. The are you sure parting the kid’s lips.

Grinning and blushing, you just wiggle your fingers. Murmur something that Morgan isn’t allowed to hear. Something only for Spencer. There’s surprise before he grips onto your hand, wriggling all ten combined fingers together. You giggle as you spin him around in his desk chair and get tangled up.

Dropped jaw and grinning, Morgan can’t believe you, so touch averse you, are willing engaging in such risky behaviour. There’s a weird few moments when he wants to remind both of you to wear protection in such endeavours.

And as he’s wondering if hands need condoms, the two of you let go and move on like nothing’s happened. You go back to punctuating your points with your flailing hands. Spencer goes back to distracting from his blush with paperwork.

Morgan goes to get more coffee, trying to stop imaging that you two were his kids, growing up without his consent. And maybe also the hand condoms.

It’s shortly after JJ’s wedding—about midnight as the cleaning crew are picking up the straggling drunks—both Hotch and Rossi notice. They’re leaned up against the bar, each smoking a cigar, watching a slightly tipsy you teach an awkwardly sober Spencer Reid how to swing dance.

It’s no secret that you and Reid get on like a house on fire, two nerds that couldn’t shut up about whatever weird ass shit was on your brains. Rossi never made much move to care. Hotch was too stressed to think about what the pair of you did off company time. Everyone, them included, imagined that what time you did spend together was three feet apart. In museums. Wherever. No one questioned what kind of weird nerd shit you did, especially stuff that they couldn’t really be bothered to care about.

Now, they’re forced to carefully consider the implications of how touchy you’re getting. With Reid.

He’s even more gangly and uncoordinated than normal, as Hotch and Rossi watch on, getting thrown around like a rag doll. It’s kind of adorable, Rossi thinks and shares a well meaning look with Hotch. The two of you would be cute and he’s hoping that you do get together. Rossi always knows about these things, even if Hotch is positive that you two are just friends. And as two professional gentlemen do, they made a bet.

Twenty bucks.

Your laugh—one that no one gets tired of hearing—echoes around Rossi’s whole yard, even into his house. Reid’s voice is about two octaves too high as you spin him around on his wobbly feet. You go from three feet apart to chest to chest and back again. Rossi remembers high school dances vaguely and Hotch absently thinks about Hayley’s old infatuation with Grease.

Rossi takes another long drag from his cigar, grateful for the indisputable proof that you two are shacking up. There is no way that two people so touch averse could be touching this much without prior exposure. The yard is a ruckus of both of your laughters, year after year of awkwardness falling off you both in sheets. They’re no denying you two shut in nerds are finally having some fun.

It’s warming both Hotch and Rossi’s hearts.

And their bet.

Penelope notices next. Who knew that such a simple interaction could leave her speechless? Stammering and stuttering over not even a full minute of insanity.

She didn’t know how she’d gotten sick, or what she’d come down with, but the only thing that was keeping her in her work chair was you. And the endless buckets of soup that you kept pouring down her throat. Without a case—thank god—for the last couple days, all that you’ve done is sit in the bat cave, keeping her and her soup warm.

It’s as you are finishing some corny ass joke that she thinks how sweet you are. How loving. Penelope’s love language has always been touch—she’s given too many hugs to count—but it’s taken her a minute to figure out yours. And as she stares into the chicken soup in her hands, she realises that it’s everything you do for her. Your love is literally palpable.

It’s in the bright keychains you bring back. Or the crazy pens. Or the way you always drive her home after drinking.

As she’s opening her mouth to tell you, tell you just how much she appreciates everything, when Reid pops his head in, whole body following. He’s got too much of a grin this early. But when he’s far enough into the room, he spreads his fingers out over your shoulder and squeezes. Says something about a case and you follow behind him with a wave of your hand at Penelope. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like Penelope hasn’t been the one furiously trying to break you out of your shell. The predetermined first to get a hug in the office.

You’re still up and still waving and by the time she’s got her wits about her, she’s asking, “You let Reid touch you?”

The empty room and the closing door don’t answer.

JJ is nearly the last to find out. Well, your little touching relationship with Spencer has been the only topic of gossip between anyone for the last six weeks. They can’t believe they hadn’t picked up on the little bits of affection passed between the two of you.

Hand touches. Shoulder squeezes. Quick brushes. The mystical hug Morgan claims he once saw.

For the rest of the world, you and Spencer were nothing but friendly. Maybe even best friendly. To the team of highly trained profilers who had been friends with the pair of you for a combined 15 years, this was marriage material. This was you and Spencer screaming the pair of you had eloped.

You two crazy kids had to be together, but the team was left to sussing it out for themselves. Neither of you two would ever say anything, never give anything up. But surely, the three of them—using Penelope would be cheating of course—could figure out when you two had started up. Because you had to have. There was no way all of this was just friendly.

And it isn’t. That much is clear when JJ gets a phone call from you while she’s looking a crime scene over for what feels like the gazillionth time. Some un-sub with the usual cocktail of daddy issues, anger issues, and a healthy dose of narcissism.

It’s rare you call anyone without good reason. You aren’t the type to just chat—everyone has speculated you got enough of that from Spencer. And once JJ says hello, you start bawling.

You’re sobbing and JJ has no idea what to do.

“Y/n, y/n,” she tries, hoping you’ll calm down enough to breathe properly. “You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s—it’s Spencer,” you hiccup. JJ can hear you sniffling into your sleeves. Can hear the blinkers go as you change lanes. “He’s not answering—not answering his phone. And he said he’d—that he’d call, but he hasn’t. And JJ something’s wrong.”

By the way your breath hitches and your sobs crackle into the phone, JJ knows exactly how bad it has to be. Spencer, however, is supposed to be following up a lead with Emily. Some paint huffer in his mom’s garage—nothing more than a routine witness report. She almost can’t believe something would go wrong.

“What happened? Where are you?”

“JJ,” you sniffle before the flood gates open again, “I can just feel it. Something’s wrong.”

JJ’s mind scrambles. As much as you played it off, you had a sixth sense. Every time, every countable time, someone got hurt, you knew before it happened. You had a gut for these things and JJ didn’t want to think about how bad this was going to be. How bloody. So she scrambles for her car and doesn’t wait for the other detectives to figure it out.

JJ’s halfway to the witness’s house when you make it there yourself. You’re still on the phone, doing a horrible attempt at trying to keep each other calm. You’ve traded the sobs for hiccups, thankfully. JJ can hear you climbing the porch stairs. She’s taking corners at 65 miles an hour.

Nothing seems fast enough when JJ hears the phone clatter to the floor and the shout of “oh my god, Spencer!”

Nothing is fast enough when you’re sobbing out, “You can’t die on me like this.”

Nothing is fast enough when JJ quietly but distinctly hears, “I love you too much for you to fucking die, Spencer Reid.”

Spencer Reid always thinks he’s the last to find out. He’s blunt and oblivious and thinks too much to just see what’s in front of his face. He was so sure they had all seen how in love he was, just how desperately he was clinging to the hope they wouldn’t notice. If they didn’t notice, you wouldn’t. Not while wearing the same sort of blinders he wore.

But once everything had come out? He was positive everyone else had known. That he’d come into work one morning and there would be a cake engraved with the words, “Congrats on Shacking Up!”

It never happened. No cake. No lights. No surprises. No one seemed to know or notice or anything. Spencer and you went on like nothing had changed—it really hadn’t anyway. He liked to laugh when you told him the two of you had been practically dating since the first time he’d offered to take you to a Korean film festival.

Two years later and he’s become very aware of you. And also the ache. All of the very dull and consistent ache in his body. Another scar to add to the collection, he bitterly thinks, out of anaesthesia enough to know that he’s in a hospital. That he’s been hurt. That someone’s holding his hand.

It’s calloused and soft and just perfectly latched onto his. A hand he’d waited to hold for too long. One that he’d be holding for the rest of his life.

Attached to the hand is you, sleeping haphazardly between his bed and a plastic chair. Your fingers are tangled in his, head rested on the crook of your arm and the bed. There’s too much of you curled up in a chair. It’s one of his favourite bits about you, just how dedicated you could be. How you were always there when he woke up and always would be.

He smiles and chuckles despite the pain in his ribs. You wake with a start, one startled gasp followed by a shuddery exhale as you realise again where you are. That nothing��s changed. That everything’s changed.

Through lidded eyes, he watches your eyes light up, matching you grin for grin. He watches the anger flash across your face for not even a second, and he knows exactly how bad you want to murder him for scaring you so bad.

Instead, you press frantic kisses to the back of his knuckles, message fully received. You missed him. You’d been terrified. You’d cried so hard, he can still feel the salt on your lips.

“Spencer,” you breathe, giving his hand one more kiss for good measure and pressing his knuckles to your cheek. “God, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“I’m alive, y/n, I promise,” he whispers back. Hoarse and adorably okay. It’s one thing to expect to get shot going after un-subs. It’s another to get attacked by a PCP addled grandmother.

He wiggles a finger against your cheek. Even though he can’t see your red rimmed eyes or the dark tear tracts on your cheeks, he can feel the tear that pools on his finger. But before he can reassure you one more time, you shush him and tell him to get some sleep and that you’ll both worry about this later. Maybe over jell-o.

He grins.

The team, visiting the next morning, doesn’t have the heart to wake up either of you. Reid looks happy for the first time in—years—with you carefully curled into his side. Sure, there’s a scratchy hospital gown and some pesky lines overriding everything, but it’s cute. No denying that. Thank god you two knuckleheads are finally being open about it. Even if you’re sleeping.

Emily smiles to herself as she readjusts her sling. Morgan and JJ are trading exclamations of shock, while Hotch passes Rossi twenty dollars. You readjust and Reid’s arm moves to rest across your cheek. JJ isn’t subtle when she takes a photo, sniggering.

Emily is even less subtle when she snorts. “I guess I can finally let the cat out of the bag.”

Everyone perks up; she swears she sees Reid open an eye.

“Nearly six months ago, y/n drunkenly confessed to dating Reid. She’s a real wild card on tequila, let me tell you.”

“You knew?” Morgan screeches, “and you didn’t say anything?”

Emily shrugs, winces with her busted up shoulder. “Does it matter? Didn’t we all know?”

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