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deadmanscity-writing · 5 months ago

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Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

Request: N/A (Wasn’t requested)

Scenario/Background: Reader accidentally timetravels/replaces her doppelganger (Because I’m in love with that trope). Also, this is placed in Episode one of the third season: when Robin first appears.

Reader can be anywhere from 16-18 years old.

I’m also going to try to write /most/ of the episode this time, and not die from pausing, unpausing.. “Wait.. what did they say?”

In this fanfic, Stranger Things is still a show.

Doesn’t follow the exact story, since it is in Reader’s point of view, so it may throw you off just a little bit.

H/T(C) = Home Town(or city)

!!WARNING!!

Actions of assault in the beginning, and mentions of it later on…

11:54.34pm:

H/T(C), [state/province], [country].

June 28, 2024 (1/6/2024):

Walking outside, with a silent hum, from a celebration of my friend’s seventeenth birthday. As I pick at the long sleeve I decided to wear on this warm night, I hear scuffing of shoes against the pavement behind me not even a minute after leaving the building.

Feeling oversuspicious at the probability of being followed, I hasten my steps.

Why’d the parking garage have to be so damn far away..!

Turning the nearby corner, I feel the person grab my hair from behind me. They swiftly throw my head against the bricked wall I stood next to. Nothing turning from it, minus a likely concussion and a future headache, I turn around to face the person, almost as instinct. Before I even get a glimpse of anything above the belt- “such a pretty thing…”- He smashes my stomach with their boot, and my face with his knee.

With a grunt, all that I can sense is ringing in my ear. I slip into the abyss as my body turns limp.

—Timeskip: eleven hours, thirty-six minutes, five seconds: 11:30.39am—

June [2?], [!??4]

Location [UNKNOWN]

Shit… I squint open my eyes. Where am I..? I sit up, looking around. I’m behind what is likely… a mall. Did he just dump me? Damn. Standing up, I run the back of my hand and arm under my nose. Dried blood either falling off, or attaching itself to my sleeve. Fuck… “This is honest bull.”

Remembering my bag, I turn my head, rapidly looking for it. I spot it in the general area I once laid.

I drop to a kneel. Opening it, I try to look for the small amount of aid supplies I usually carry inside. “How I hate the extra luggage, but I’m so glad I brought you.” I whisper to the inanimate object.

Finding the alcohol wipes, I bring out my phone, turning on the camera to aid me in cleaning myself.

“You!-” I groan, spotting the bruising on my right eye, “motherfucker…” At least it’s not swollen.. I end up roughly cleaning the bloch of dried blood under my nose, and the rest of my face. And throwing my phone into my bag.

Honestly.. These aren’t as bad of injuries for getting beaten. Well. More so, nothing is broken…

Remembering the sunglasses in my bag that I keep forgetting to take out, I rummage for them, eagerly I put them on to hide the blackeye.

Huffing, I get back up, swinging my bag over my shoulder. Walking to the front of the building, I instantly decide it best to go inside.

Not knowing where to go, I head down the escalators, spotting… a certain ice cream parlor. Looks like I gotta keep a little secret.

June 28, 1984

StarCourt Mall. Hawkins, Indiana

I wandered to other stores, buying new clothes, accessories and stopping to eat a couple times. I will tell ya’, inflation is a bitch. So glad I took cash with me. These damn prices are heaven!

Already with changed clothes, putting my old, teared, and bloodied clothes in a completely separate bag from the already few I hold. I decide it best to either wander or sit, waiting.

All until it reached 21:27pm (9:27pm). That’s when I saw the party. The main five. All of them walking inside. When they reach the bottom of the escalator, Lucas gives Erica a short lecture when he spots her with friends. Of course, I can’t hear them with the current distance. But I know what they’re saying.

Soon, I detach myself from the wall I was leaning on, following them to the ice-cream parlor.

Instead of following all the way to the counter where Mike, may I add, obnoxiously rings the bell, I stop and go to a table. Setting all my bags down, soon setting myself down too.

“Hey, dingus! Your children are here!”

“Again?” Steve slides open a window connecting to the back room. “Seriously?”

Mike just looks at him before ringing the counter bell one more time.

Steve leads them to the hallways connecting all the departments shortly after.

I set my head on the back of the seating close to the wall.

After just sitting for a couple more minutes, I decide that I want to talk to at least one of them: Robin, or Steve? I ponder. I don’t feel like thinking about the interference with the plot right now. I just want to talk.

I get up, but as soon as I do, the power goes out. I forgot that this happens.

“That’s weird…” I hear Steve. I then hear him flickering the light switch behind him. Over, and over again.

“That isn’t going to work, dingus.” I then hear Robin’s voice.

“Oh, really?” He says in response, flickering the switch faster, while looking up, facing the lights to see any reaction from them.

“It really isn’t.” I speak up.

The power then came back on, almost as soon as it went out.

“Let there be light.” Steve says smugly to Robin, who silently mocks him. He then turns to me, keeping the same smug look.

I look at him with a straight face, in return, before a wave of paranoia hits me. All I do is shiver, and he raises an eyebrow at me.

I raise an eyebrow back, “What?”

“Nothing.” He says nothing more for a few seconds, “So-”

I check the time on my watch. “Shit..” I mumble to myself. It’s nine fifty-eight.

I turn around. I was wanting to try and figure out a place to stay before ten, but it’s almost that time… damn it all. I guess… I can risk it. I don’t want to stay with Steve, but he’s also my best bet right now. I just… need to make it.. extremely clear. Or, I can ask for a ride to a Hotel. Just- something!

I turn back around to face him. “Hey! Um,” I quiet myself immediately after realizing my raised volume. “I’m, like, extremely new here, in town. I got dropped off here from the bus, and this is also my first day here, so… I was wondering if, um, you could drive me to a nearby hotel..? If you have a car. You don’t have to though!” There are… SO MANY HOLES IN THAT! What the fuck! Now I’m praying he’s stupid as some of the show betrays him to be!

“Oh, yeah, sure. I don’t mind!” Not even a second later. No hesitation. He is… that stupid. Okay.

“Thank you! You’re a lifesaver!”

He grins. Wow… maybe, don’t inflate his ego too much next time…

—Timeskip: Twelve hours, fifteen minutes, zero seconds: 11:14am—

The next morning at the mall

I figured it best to not wear my sunglasses today.

“Alrighty. One scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck twenty five. Here ya’ go.” I see Steve smile at the girl from where I sit. He looks at her shirt, “Purdue. Fancy,” I cringe.

“Yeah. I’m excited!” She response, giggling.

Steve types something in the register, “Yeah, you know I considered it. Purdue. But then I was like, “You know what? I- I really think I need some real life experience.” You know, before I hit college. See what it feels like. I don’t know.” He grabs her change from the register, “See what it’s like to earn a working man's wage. You know wh- uh.” The register rings. It’s broken. And… He’s freaking out. “Hold on. Sorry.” He then continues his story. “I think that’s, like, really important.” The two girls just look at him. Smiling at his failed attempt at flirting with the one in front.

“Yeah. Totally.” Gotta love sarcasm, but damn.

“Yeah! Anyways, this is like, so fun.” He forces a short laugh with her. “We should, kinda like, you know, I don’t know, hang out?” He hands her her change. Either her failing to catch it, or him having poor hand to eye coordination; it wounds up falling. “Oh- sorry about that. Uh- I don’t know.” He puts his hand on the counter, trying to appear more confident, hoping for the outcome he obviously wishes for. “Maybe next weekend, or,” He waits.

“Yeah, I’m busy.” She reaches to put the change in her purse.

“Oh- that’s cool. I’m actually- I’m working here next weekend.” He gestures. “So… the following weekend is better for me,” He says defeated, but hope still underlines his tone.

“Ah- no, I’m sorry, I can’t. Okay.” She says. What’s with the bitchy tone?.. I eye her, rolling my eyes. “Thanks.”

Steve tries to speak up as they walk away, “I could- this is my first day here.” I then eye him with a raised brow.

He huffs in defeat.

Robin rolls to the opening of the window. Almost as if on cue. I smile at what she’s about to say. “And another one bites the dust.” She slides her white board in view. Steve turns around to face her, scuffing at the sound of her voice. “You are O-for-six, popeye.” She places a tally mark under the words ‘You suck’.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can count.” Steve says agitatedly, while nodding, arms crossed.

“You know that means you suck, right?” She says in a teasing tone.

“Yep. I can read too.” I can tell Steve is tired from all Robin’s teasing with his rough tone he carries towards her.

“Since when?” She teases him even further. Almost as if she’s trying to knock him over the edge.

“Hey?” I get up from where I sat, walking up behind Steve. “Do you think you can put another one on there? Make it O-for-seven?” I ask, in a mocking tone.

“Oh, dingus got dusted not six- but seven times?” She looks to him, playfully shocked, before looking towards me, “Now, dingus’ friend, who was this unlucky lady?” She asks with the same tone.

“Me. When I was hitching a ride with him last night.”

“Wow… dingus, you don't know when to quit, do you?” I breathe out a short laugh.

“Sorry, Steve,” I pat him on the shoulder before leaning on the counter. “Your oh-so-sweet co-worker has to know.” My tone, similar to Robin’s.

“It’s this stupid hat!” I sigh, shaking my head. “I am telling you!” Robin sighs at his complaint too. “It is totally blowing my best feature!..” It really isn’t the hat.

“Yeah,” Robin moves the board, locking her hands, placing her arms to lay on the wall under the opening of the window. “Company policy is a real drag,” she shakes her head. “Y’know, it’s a crazy idea,” She looks up at him from her position, “but, have you considered..” She shrugs, blowing up her cheeks before continuing, “Telling the truth..?” She basically eyes him.

“Oh, you mean that I couldn’t even get into tech, and my douchebag dad is trying to teach me a lesson? I make three bucks an hour, and I have no future? That truth?” He speaks with dual honesty.

I move as I hear the clacking of heals, back to my seat.

Robin grins before pointing out to Steve, “Hey, twelve o’clock.”

Steve follows, “Oh shit, oh shit. Okay. Uhhh… Goin’ in. Okay, I’m goin’ in-” just before he turns around,”-and you know what?” He reaches to take off his uniform hat, throwing it behind Robin, “Screw company policy.”

“Oh my god, you’re a whole new man.”

Steve begins to walk away backwards, “Right? Oo,” he does a small dance. He turns around as me and Robin laugh at his actions. “Ahoy ladies! Didn’t see you there!” He practically screams, causing me and the girl he is speaking to to jump. He places both of his hands on the counter top. “Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me?” He says with great enthusiasm. “I’ll be your captain. I’m Steve Harrington.” He loses a little volume near the end.

The girls laugh, “Oh god,” I hear one mumble.

“Can I get you guys a little taste of cherry suebly?” He butchers the last word, sorbet. “No? Anybody? Banana boat?” He takes a look at all of them. “Four people, four spoons?”

Robin slowly slides away, cringing as she does so. I get up as she does so, walking behind the girls, and proceeding to the back room, Steve doesn’t seem to care.

Steve continues, “Anybody? It’s hot out there.”

Once I get through the door, I see Robin has put another tally, “O-for-eight..? He really is desperate.” I walk over to close the window. Sitting down at the table in the middle of the room after.

“Yeah. By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask; what’s up with your eye?” She points to her own.

“Oh, I-” I touch the fading bruise “It’s nothing. Just some weirdo kneed me in the face.” Robin, thankfully, doesn't pry. “But- uh- anyway-” I take a deep breath, “I get the whole “girl crazy” thing, but he doesn’t seem like the type.” I rest my head on my palm, facing Robin. “I feel like everyone gets the same feeling after breaking things off with either their first relationship, or first love.”

“Really? Who's the boy that broke your heart?” She raises her brow with a sarcastic smirk. She then sits in the chair next to me, “Would love to hear about it.” She keeps her taunting tone.

“You wouldn’t know him,” I say in a similar tone to hers. “But, the feeling is like, you get so used to being in a relationship that you feel out of place when you’re not in one. Some people try to give it some time before actually doing that, to avoid a rebound. But after some time, they’re either content but still want a relationship, or just… content with being single ....”

Robin boredly hums to my rant in response.

“I hope you know I avoided going on a long ass rant, just for you.” I grin playfully.

She looks back at me, “Ah, yes, thank you for saving my ears.” I smile in place of a laugh at her reply.

“I rant a shit ton. Not even when I’m nervous, usually when I’m happy, or ‘forcing’ someone to listen to me. But I hate that I sometimes stutter, or accidentally skip a word, or even make up one in some scenarios.” I shrug.

She shakes her head with a slight smile.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fem reader #robin #robin buckley #stranger things #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #stranger things x reader #reader x character #reader x canon #x reader #stranger things season 3 #stranger things fic #stanger things fanfiction

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whispdoodle · 11 months ago

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Stuck like a tattoo.

synopsis: Nicholas D. Wolfwood considers his life as mundane as possible, and at this point doesn't expect any surprises. Naturally, all of that gets thrown out the window the moment he meets a small but feisty distressed damsel with a truck problem right in front of the coffee joint where he works.

WARNINGS: the series will be rated as Explicit later on, as the plot develops! NO WARNINGS for this chapter, first meetings and dork galore ahead!

Pairing: Meryl Stryfe x Nicholas D. Wolfwood

No. 1

The only other thing accompanying the unusually annoying sound of a traditional alarm clock are the groans of a clearly disinterested in waking up man and the rustles of the bed sheets. The mattress dips underneath the weight that is now firmly pressed to the edge of the bed. Nicholas hits the clock, yet it rings still. Don't test me, motherfucker. He hits it again, more forceful, and this time the alarm dies out. God, that is the shittiest way to wake up. He knows it. Just as much as he knows how badly it affects his mornings. But, it can't be helped. The first day he was supposed to get to work, Nicholas set an alarm on his phone. Thing is... considering the damn thing is touch sensitive, and considering this dumbass usually falls asleep with his phone in his hand after using it, I believe it is needless to say that Nick simply slid the turn off button as soon as the alarm began to blare while turning around in his bed.

So that option had to go, obviously.

While the traditional clock is a kick in the nuts, it definitely does its job. Nick reaches out for it, and squints while trying to make out if he even set the thing correctly. '5:02'. Alright. So he DID set it right. His free hand swipes across his tanned face, a rather exasperated exhale rolling off his tongue. C'mon Nico, nothing else to do but move your ass. And he does just that. The clock is nonchalantly tossed onto the sheets behind him, and the grumpy 'adult' slowly rises to his feet. Like a senior with scoliosis, if you can picture that. He stretches, his voice cutting off as his bones creak in every frequency a bone can make. The fact he even listened to Milly last night and thought 'yeah let's drink the clean 20%, what's the worst that can happen!?' makes him think there's something to it when Livio calls him a dumbass.

Because that DEFINITELY wasn't a smart decision, he'll admit that free of charge. Ugh, whatever. It's not like he can call in work and say 'sorry, can't make it today. I've got a bitch of a hangover because I can't say no to my bestie'. If that's not getting him thrown out right onto his ass, then he's gotta be Harry fucking Houdini.

That in mind, Nick simply fixes the crotch of his boxers and lazily waddles out of his bedroom.

The squishy corridor is blessedly dark and filled with happy snores coming from within the room opposite of Nick's. Still a whole while before the big guy has to get up, Nick simply tip toes past the room and into the living room/kitchen/entrance. Yup, the apartment definitely wasn't the biggest out there. But at least paying the rent didn't hurt as much as it usually would. And most importantly...

As soon as his foot presses to the fake wooden flooring of the kitchen, a warm press of a furry fat rubs against Nick's ankle. The adorable black feline looks up at her owner, pupils dilated at maximum, making her charm even more irresistible than ever. She meows, like she even needed to work extra to ensnare Nick in her cute spell. He knew exactly what she wanted, actually thankful she waited patiently for him to get up without the encouragement this time. The encouragement being Kuroneko laying her belly on his face until he starts suffocating, which does startle him awake. Shocker, I know.

Better to give this little criminal what she wants before she switches her tactics to arson.

The rest of his morning is extremely bland to be honest. Kuroneko gets fed, leaving towards Nick's bedroom afterwards. Planning on nesting in his unmade bed, if he had to guess. He eats his own breakfast: warm toast bread with jam and cheese, gets dressed, grabs his wallet and phone and with a heavy heart leaves. Almost 6 around the clock, and despite his shift starting at 7, well... the bus ride IS a long one. But at least he makes it to the stop on time today. If he missed the damn bus, again, his manager would definitely get his ass again and he'd spend the rest of the shift being coddled by Milly. AGAIN. Don't get him wrong, he absolutely adores that woman. But she really has to ease up with her motherly instincts. She worries, he gets it. But Nick's a big boy. And the last thing he wants is for someone as sweet and kind as his best friend to waste her mental health on him. She's been an angel for both him and Livio ever since they've met, and so far? He didn't do squat to repay that kindness. The fact she still sticks around is just another proof there's not an ounce of malice in that girl's heart. Too good for this world, one might say.

So dizzy from sleep, Nick almost misses his stop. This time of year, it was still fairly dark outside, even at this hour. Still a hefty walk away from the café, Nick checks his phone for time: 6:24. Alright, that's actually not bad. He should be there about 10 minutes early. Should give him enough room to prep the machines and slip into the apron. He's also gonna have to check the produce for-

"God damn it!"

If that doesn't cause his entire body to straight up jolt. Nick absolutely freezes in place, frantically looking around for the source of the noise. And surely, he finds it, as soon as there's a slam of a head against a truck that parked right in front of an empty loft. "I wanna die..." Yeah darling, you're not the first, you won't be the last. No reason to scream about it though, giving some poor pedestrian a near-death experience.

And just as he was about to pray to whatever god was going to listen to please, PLEASE let him pass unnoticed... "Oh! Hey, wait! You there! Th-The black dressed... person!" She was waving. Waving, for him. With so much vigor Nick was almost certain that another flap of that wrist will cause it to fly away for the winter season. He hated this. He just wanted to get to his shitty work, make shitty coffee, and then get back to his shitty apartment. Where, oddly, life was a bit less shitty. Yet when he turned towards the clearly distressed damsel, and saw those pathetically sad puppy eyes, which he SWORE were sparkling, well...

He sucked in a breath, scrunched up his nose, and walked over. Whoever she was, the lady was practically hanging off the truck's hood while her distress slowly changed to relief the closer he got. So not only was he expected to help, but it was already set in that girly's tiny mind that he was the solution to all her problems. Not that he minds turning out to be a disappointment. The guy had plenty of practice for that.

...might as well.

Half an hour, a piss poor excuse to his boss and one fixed tire later and finally there's some semblance of peace and quiet. Despite the café being open, 7:30 is usually the most unproductive time around these parts. And thank the Lord in Heaven for that, because if Nico was to deal with people somehow knowing how to do his job better than he does this early in the morning, then he wouldn't have even gone to jail. People with the kinda thoughts that sometimes go through his head are just stuffed in a straitjacket and tossed in a safe room.

"Oh, I needed that." Comes in the voice of the only other living being in the shop, currently occupying one of the green leather stools by the main counter. Between her hands is grasped a single white mug with a leaf print at the bottom, a faded brown for a color. Like an afterthought, his boss says. Like a shitty coffee stain, Nick corrects in his head. The drink currently residing within isn't the grandest of his creations, but it seems a lukewarm cappuccino on coconut milk with caramel syrup and cinnamon powder is good enough for the missy. "Well, glad ya like it." He honestly didn't have much else to say. When Meryl was done introducing herself and thanking for the help with a flat tire, somehow the conversation turned to her mentioning she didn't have her coffee yet, not an actual breakfast. Whatever the latter meant, Nick had no clue, but since the cafe was literally across, well... he offered. And that's how they got here. With Meryl attending to her long time coming drink, and to a white cheese and pastrami sandwich waiting on the side.

"Mm!" Nick's attention turns, from the glass he's been setting with the rest on display, back on the woman with a mouthful of that sandwich she looks desperate to swallow before saying anything. She sure looks like a strange one, at least strange for someone dressed like her to be so well-mannered. Don't get him wrong, her neatly cut hair and a pair of minimalistic golden earrings definitely sold the 'I'm a woman on top' kinda feel. It's everything else that didn't really add up, from the half-cut grey top more displaying than exposing the hibiscus-patterned tattoos down the length of her entire right arm, to the shorts that were so short they would be enough to cause a crime rate to rise on an instant. Well, if it weren't for the solid black stockings at least, but even those were torn in places, and these tears? Yeah, definitely self-made.

"...done?"

It's her voice that gets his head outta his ass, the man blinking twice before his tongue turns from lead to an actual functioning muscle once more. "What?" The way this single word comes out makes him sound like he just woke up from a daze, a mental cringe in his part for that one.

"I said: 'Are you done?' because you've been kinda ogling me for the past 2 minutes." And at that moment, Nick thought to himself 'yeah, that's fair'. Because as much as he wants to pretend like he's having none of that, well... he's pretty damn sure his sights were set directly on her god damn thighs by the time she caught him, which, by the way, have no shitting right to be so ample on somebody this, uh... small. "2 minutes?" He asks, head turning towards the clock on the wall behind him, though he shifts his attention back to Meryl way too quickly to make it look genuine. "Pretty sure it's been at least 4."

He doesn't miss how that makes her smile.

"Ha. Ha. Look at me, laughing so hard my side's cramping." This girl can go ahead and serve her monotonne, sarcastic answer left and right, Nick encourages it in fact. Hell, he'll contribute to the attitude, so long as he sees the dimples in the corners of her mouth to make their appearance every damn time. "Shit, that's a dangerous thing, doll. Let me know when you start losing balance on that stool." Taking another sip of her coffee, Meryl's brows crease and her eyes narrow: suspicion painted all over that expression. "Why? So you can come to the rescue and be a knight in shining armor?" Her lips trail her upper lip as she's done talking, cleaning up the mustache of sweet coconut milk foam that formed there.

Cute, he notes. Actually, scratch that, very cute. Ridiculously so, in fact.

He scoffs, a mock expression akin to both a sarcastic insult and something along the lines of 'are you dumb' message. "So I can get the phone on time and record it?" And call him a brat with an inflated ego, he does not give a shit. And would you want to know why? Because the way Meryl snorts into her mug, trying to conceal that ridiculous smile with it as she practically dives half her face inside, is absolutely worth it. He might even admit - and he knows just how crazy that makes him sound - that perhaps this morning isn't as miserable as he expected it to be.

"Wait." Meryl's fingers move across the screen of Nick's phone, pinching at the center and spreading out after. "Your cat's name is 'Kuroneko'?" The way she raises her perfectly picked out eyebrow at him with that sly smile tells him everything. He is, most definitely and without a doubt, about to get shit on. "I... Look, before you start, yeah: the name's Japanese. But I didn't pick it, my little brother did. He watches anime, said it suits her." If this thing actually costs him a chance with the cute tattooed girl he met like an hour ago, he's never letting Liv forget the betrayal he felt at that moment. Meryl actually chuckles, it's a small thing and short at that, but it does make her shoulders hiccup. "I mean... yeah! Yeah, the name DEFINITELY suits her!"

Okay. At this point, Nick's curiosity definitely overtakes the awkward shame. He has to know. And so, he pulls out his phone. Types into the translator, sets the translation from Japanese to English and... "You... are shitting me." The way Meryl tried ever so diligently to choke down her own laughter was all the answer he needed: this was real. This was real, and his brother was a stain on the society for this. "So, um..." She talked with the barely contained laughter just oozing out of her tone, smiling like a complete dork while leaning forth onto the counter propped by her folded forearms. "Did you realize-"

"Did I realize that my fucking black cat's name is 'black cat'!? YES I'D SAY I DID!" That was the last encouragement Meryl seemed to need in order to absolutely let loose. The wheeze that followed was nothing short of amazing. Like an old vacuum cleaner from the 90s. Once it's swallowed so much dust all it does is choke- you see the picture, right? She nearly falls off the stool, she does! So keen on enjoying the miserable shame that Nicholas has to endure because of Livio. Though, let's be real... if he really did mind, he wouldn't be laughing alongside her.

"Fucking Christ, calm down wheezy G." And well, it does seem to only break the woman further. "WHEEZY-!" She repeats, before bursting into an even more maniacal laughter. Nick will say this: first time he saw her? This is definitely NOT the kinda attitude he expected her to have. Meryl seems so... free with how she acts. If she's happy, then she's happy. No matter how ridiculous it makes her look, it feels right for her so she just does it. Ah, well... Nick at least would never consider a trait like that ridiculous.

If he'd have to use a word, it would be... admirable.

The rest of the day fades to the fog, really. Meryl has to leave to get some stuff for her studio, and afterwards Nick stops smiling as genuinely as he did with her. He just works through his shift, makes some overpriced brews, and after 4 p.m. his late night shift comes to dismiss him and he goes home. That's pretty much every day, Monday to Saturday for this guy. Wake up, work and go home. Except tonight, he does smack Livio across the back of his head, saying 'you know what you did' before leaving the dumbfounded bear of a man to his lonesome.

The ball of fur spitting nightmare makes herself comfortable the second Nick's ass lands on his bed. Her belly is already up and on display, and the man doesn't even hesitate to start rubbing at the hairs that definitely need a good grooming at this point. The day wasn't horrible. In fact, it wasn't even bad. Because seriously, how can he pretend it's been bad? When in his free hand he's already holding the stick up note with Meryl's number on it? Honestly, Nick was always less than optimistic when it came to meeting strangers. He knew how to leave things without the relations going sour, but if he were to choose then he'd rather the meeting never happened in the first place.

But not with Meryl. He'd say for he wished wouldn't realize he was walking by this morning, she definitely made it worthwhile.

He'll call her. He has to, right? He should, at least. Kuroneko purrs, enjoying how Nick's doubling his efforts while spoiling that one particular spot underneath her right arm. She gave him that number, so it wouldn't be weird to call her. He thinks. He... hopes?

He overthinks. But that's a sure sign this whole thing really is worth the anxiety he knows it'll bring about.

He will call her. That's the one promise he's not breaking.

Thank you all for reading! This is the first chapter to come for the MerylWood series that I'm working on currently! I wanted to do something based on the coffee shop/tattoo artist AU for the longest time! Hope y'all liked the first installment! Sharing and liking helps the algorithm, so I'd appreciate it ✨

#trigun au #trigun meryl #trigun wolfwood #trigun stampede #meryl x wolfwood #meryl stryfe #nicholas d. wolfwood #merylwood #squidsniaki

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loousir · 3 years ago

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[Gorgon] Some Secrets Should be Said

Gorgon Male x Unaware/Oblivious Male Reader

Eros

Warnings: Tiniest ammout of homophobia/racisim, smoochin in a supply closet, YOU MAY BE IN HIGHSCHOOL BUT YOU ARE 18

Masterlist

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

It was an early Monday morning. The usual early birds were arriving at school, you being one of them. Rumor was going around of a new student getting enrolled. There were only three high schools in this small town; One for monsters, one for humans, and one for both. You were enrolled in the one that shared with monsters. The overall relations in the school were good, other than the typical high school antics.

You had just been dropped off by your sibling and we're walking into the building. A few people smiled your way and you smiled back, heading to your first hour. The teacher was a Satyr and she was a bubbly as ever, happy to see you in the morning. "Good morning (Y/n), we have a new student coming today." Your ears perked up and you looked over to her.

"Ah, we do? So the rumor was true after all?" She laughed and said, "Yes! He's gonna make a bit of history here." You became confused at her statement as you walked over to your seat. "What do you mean by that?" You asked setting your bag on the table. "I might get in a bit of trouble for telling but..." She walked over, her hooves clacking on the floor as she did. She leaned in on the table, "He will be the first Gorgon to be enrolled into the school!"

She seemed overly excited about the new student but you smiled at her enthusiasm. "You seem awfully happy about that. Is he in our class?" You asked, sitting down in your chair. Her smiled seemed to get wider as she nodded. You paused for a moment and leaned back. "Does that mean he's gonna sit by me?" She nods again. "Yep! You are the only one without a table partner. I'm sure you'll be fine. He's a nice kid." She ruffeled your hair and you swatted her hands away. "Auntie, you know I'm taken right?" She isn't your biological aunt but she's very close with your mom so you call her it for fun.

She laughed and walked away saying, "He's a cute one." You sighed and rolled your eyes as you pulled out your phone. You opened Snapchat and sent a message to your boyfriend.

You took a cute selfie, looking down at the phone while your forehead rested on the table.

Aunties super excited about our new student.

Ngl, I kinda am too. She said he was a Gorgon and I think she's onto my facination with cute snakes xx

You sent the snap and put your phone face down on the table before resting your face on your bag. A minute or so passed before you got a message back.

It was a black screen but he usually sent one. Admittedly, you have never seen him but you respected that since you fell in love with his personality, which was charming as ever.

Don't go cheating on me now ;)

I might just have to show you I'm cuter xx

You smiled and took another selfie.

So that means I get to see you then??? Game on babe xx

You smiled as you sent it. Yeah, it was cheesy flirting but it made you happy none the less. A few seconds later he messaged back with another black screen.

Hmm, I just might lol

You sent that you love him too and put your phone in your pocket. Smiling slightly as you looked up to see that some other students were starting to show up. Soon enough, the first bell for class to start rings and students filter in, taking their seats. Five minutes later, you still haven't seen a certain Gorgon as the final bell rings, saying anyone who wasn't there was late.

Gotta get to class, message you when I can

Love you xx

Mrs. Hucksburry stood at the front of the class, writing some last minute things on the board. "Alright class," Most of the students quiet down at her words. "As you may have heard, we have a new student today! I want you to treat him with respect as he is one of us," She said referring to her fellow monsters. "He is the first of his kind to be enrolled into our schools system." Right as she finished speaking, the door opened to show a rather handsome face and a the obvious 'hair' that came in the shape of several small, darkly colored snakes that seemed to form some sort of style.

He wore rather nice and stylish clothes, very 90's -esk. Mrs. Hucksburry smiled more and looked over to him. "Good morning Mr. Lamollot, glad to see you made your way here." He smiles a cute and almost shy smile, making a pair of girls in class giggle. You watched and tuned out what they were saying before seeing he was looking at you.

You waved to him as he walked over to your table. "I'm guessing you're (Y/n)?" You smiled and nodded, "That'd be me." You put your bag on the floor next to the table and he quietly sat down next to you. "I'm Eros by the way." He was quiet when he spoke as class had officially started. You pulled out a notebook with a pen/pencil and made a message page.

You have the same name as my boyfriend!

You tore the paper out and slid it over to him while he was getting his own notebook and pen. Notes were handwritten on the board since the projector broke and hadn't been replaced yet but no one seemed to mind. The paper was slid back over to you.

Really? What are the chances of that?

His hand writing was nice for a boy and you looked out of the corner of your eye to see him smiling. You smiled too and wrote back.

Who knows but I think it's cool

You slid the paper back and he took a minute to slide it back but you patiently waited since you would have done the same. He didn't write anything on it.

You seem pretty chill Eros, wanna hang out at lunch? Also can I see your schedule? • 3 •

The paper was passed back for the fifth time during class and all it said was his schedule along with a "Sure!" underneath. You told him that the two of you share the same schedule. WhAt A cOiNcIdEnCe.

You looked over to him to see him looking at the paper. He looked up to you and you smiled. Eros smiled back and took the paper to ask.

Do you have early release too?

You read it as he wrote and he looked up to you. You nodded and he wrote again.

Wanna go chill at the park?

You shrugged and nodded again when he looked up to you. He smiled and nodded as the two of you went back to working on class work. You hadn't noticed it before but, his snakes seemed to be interested in you, which you thought was cute.

--- Skip to Break ---

An hour and a half had passed and the two of you had talked a bit throughout the time. The bell for break just rang and you got up with Eros. The two of you walked out to the hallway. "Let me make a stop by my locker real quick then we can go to next hour and chill there for break." He nodded and leaned against the locker next to you when two girls walked up to him. They were the same pair from first hour.

"Hey Eros, wanna hang with us at lunch?" The "leader" asked, standing in front of him. "Yeah that'd be like, totally cool if you did." Her buddy said, standing next to him. "Oh, sorry, me and (Y/n) al-" She cut him off with a scoff. "Oh you mean halfie? That kids got an imaginary boyfriend. How about you just ditch him and come eat with us." Eros looked over to you to see you had tensed and slowed your movements.

The girls focus turned on you, making you bite your lip. "Do you think you could not ruin this guy? He's like, super hot and doesn't need to be tainted by you." You looked away and felt a vibration come from your phone. You took the chance and opened it to see a message from your boyfriend. She smirked, "Did your 'boyfriend' text you? What'd he say?" She asked in a taunting tone.

You ignored her and opened the message. It was a new picture of the "super hot" guy standing next to you looking down to his phone.

Wanna dip babe?

These bitches are annoying the fuck outta me lol

The three of you looked up to him surprised as you closed your locker. He awkwardly smiled and said, "Guess I had to ruin that surprise cause some bimbos wanna fuck a gay guy." He laughed and walked over to you, grabbing your hand. You were speechless.

How did I not connect the dots earlier? Am I really that dense?

"It's a shame too. I was considering being friends, until you insulted my boyfriend, that is." He locked your fingers and looked back at the two. "Go suck a dildo, whore." Eros flipped them off and walked off with you around the corner, looking for a private spot. "Anywhere there won't be eavesdroppers?" He asked quietly. You nodded and lead him to a back room.

You opened the door with the key you had and let you go in first. The room was pretty nice considering it was useless. You turned on the light at set your bag down, Eros doing the same. "Are you really my boyfriend?" You asked stepping closer to him. He blushed and nodded, "I... I think so... I kind of ruined the supr-mm!" His eyes widened as you connected your lips to his. You pulled away and were about to speak when he connected them again, pressing his body into yours slightly.

He pulled away and you smiled, a blush was covering your face. "I've wanted to do that for so long." You said looking up to him slightly. "Me too." He said, hugging you close. "Why did you lie to me about being human?" You asked, resting your face on his chest. "I was... Scared of how you'd react if I told you the truth." You pulled away and looked up to him. "Are you kidding? Look what I was missing out on!" You said, making gestures to him.

Eros smiled and laughed. "I have a question for you though," You tilted your head slightly. "Why did they call you halfie?" You looked away and brushed back the hair around your ears. The tips of them were pointed much like an elf's but not as long. "My dads an elf. They like to use it as an insult since they're full and I'm not..."

Eros smiled again and nuzzled his nose to the crook of your neck. His snakes were gently booping their noses against your cheek as if giving you small kisses. You giggled at the sensation and he hummed to ask what was so funny. "Your snakes are cute." You said gently intertwining your fingers with them. He gently kissed your neck and rubbed your sides. "Well, they love you just as much as I love you." He said closing his eyes and hugging you.

You smiled and removed your hand to cup his cheek and make him look at you. His golden eyes were half lidded as he did. "Well," You said almost mocking him in away. "I love you and your snakes too." His eyes closed as he leaned in and yours did the same, both of your lips connecting again.

Eros pressed himself into you as both of you kissed. You pulled away first for air and he kissed your cheek and jaw lightly. You checked your phone when he pulled away he asked. "I'm curious how you got a key to a janitors closet." You leaned up to him and kissed his cheek. "My biological uncles the principal and he gave me the room to chill if I need to. It's usually where I would hang out for lunch but I dont really need to anymore since early release and all."

He "ooh'd" and nodded. "Makes sense. Wish I had a place like this at my old school." He looked back at you and his eyes went to your hair while you were checking something on your phone. Eros almost hesitantly brushed his fingers through your (h/c) hair. You jumped slightly at the sudden touch but enjoyed it none the less. "We have 4 minutes by the way." You said closing your eyes and leaning into his hand.

"Your hair is really nice. It's so soft." He smiled when you did and he gently kissed your nose while removing his hand from your hair. You tried your best to make it look like how it did before. "Sorry." He said gently with a small laugh. "Don't be, let's head to next hour so we can get this day done with and hang out." He nodded at your words and you grabbed his hand as the two of you grabbed your bags and quietly made it to the class you're meant to be in.

--- Skip to End of Day ---

The last two hours of school they had went by pretty quickly. The bell for lunch and early release seniors rang, making most people rush to leave or go to lunch. You and Eros lagged behind, waiting for the halls to clear a bit. He gently grabbed your hand as you finished putting your bag on. "Do you wanna go to the park or my house? I have a car so it doesn't matter too much on which you pick." He said with a small laugh.

You blushed and shrugged, "I would probably like your house since it's kinda cold out right now..." The two of you walked out of the class, hand in hand. The pair of girls from earlier watched with hatred/jealousy as the two of them walked out together. They were all going the same way so they got to see Eros walk you to his 1969 Blue Camaro.

Eros unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you to get in to which you gladly accepted. You set your bag down by your feet and buckled as he set his bag in the back and got in. "I hope my dad isn't home." He said closing his door and starting the car. "Why do you say that?" You asked as he buckled his seat belt.

He sighed and leaned back on his seat. "He doesn't actually know we're... Y'know, dating. Or if he does he has no clue you're a guy..." You nodded and looked to him while he backed out from the parking lot. "We can still go to the park. I'll survive I'm sure." You said softly. "Plus I kinda wanna wear your jacket..." You mumbled the last part while looking away but he heard and smiled, acting as if he didn't hear.

"There's one close to my house we can go to. It's pretty cool if you wanna go there." Eros said while stopping at a light. "That sounds good." He smiled again and looked over to you before looking back at the light. Seeing it change to green, he stepped on the gas again and headed to the destination.

---

The ride was comfortably quiet other than the occasional comment about something in the passing scenery. "Ok, we're here." Eros said, parking his car in the relatively empty parking lot. "I've never seen this place before. It's really pretty." You said as the two of you stepped out.

"Yeah. It's pretty quiet here. I usually hang out here after school. I have never been home "on time" since I got a car 3-ish years ago." You smiled and held his hand as he locked the car and put the keys away. "I'll take you to my favorite spot. There's all kinds of secret areas thanks to the trees." He said with a slight child like glee. You giggled like the school boy that you are as he dragged you along through a beautiful walkway that was shaded by the trees. "Gods it's so pretty here." You said under your breath.

You walked for what felt like forever before he shifted to stand behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist. He removed his hand to show one of the few non blank pictures he sent. "Oh wow." The winter sun was shining over the neighboring town, giving a good idea of just how small it was. "We have a cliff?" You asked suddenly, making Eros laugh and hug you close to his body.

Eros smiled as he took a turn off the path and up a small hill. He stopped and gently let go of your hand, covering your eyes. You reached up to remove his hand but he stopped you. "W-what are you doing Eros?" He giggled and started walking, making you grab onto him afraid of running into something. "Eros?!"

"Don't worry babe. I promise it's nothing bad. I know you'll like it."

"Kinda crazy right?" He said before resting his chin on your shoulder. You nodded as his snakes gently booped you're temple and cheek again, making you smile. You reached up and gently placed a hand on Eros' cheek, rubbing your thumb against his jawline. "Wanna sit down? I have two and a half hours before I have to be home." You nodded again and he pulled away, leading you over to a fairly large tree.

He took off his jacket and tossed it up onto a branch before jumping into the tree himself. You were surprised before he reached down to help you up. "C'mon, it'll give us some privacy just incase anyone comes over here." You somewhat hesitantly took his hand and he helped pull you up onto the thick tree branch. He leaned back against the trees core, letting his legs hang down and inviting you to do the same against him.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence again while he hugged you close, resting his head against your shoulder. "I love you. A lot." He mumbled softly into your ear. You smiled and held onto the top of his hand that was holding onto your stomach. "I love you a lot too." You mumbled back. "Oh and, do you wanna wear my jacket now? I noticed you were shivering ever since we started walking."

You blushed and looked down to the tree branch and ground below it. "I didn't think you heard me say that..." He giggled and leaned forward a bit, grabbing the jacket off the branch it was hooked on to. You moved forward and he helped you put the slightly bigger jacket on. You snuggled into the lingering warmth, taking in his soft cologne.

"Your jacket smells good babe." Eros chuckles and pulls you against his chest again. "Well, it's got my favorite cologne on it so if course it smells good." You smile and let your head fall back against his shoulder and he kissed your temple.

"So. Do you wanna explain yourself a bit?"

-----

3261

Minimal spell/grammar checking, also set up for a part 2?

#mxm #monster x male reader #male monster x reader #x male reader #monster male x male reader #monster male #oneshot

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kpop---scenarios · 3 years ago

Text

Revenge Is A Bitch (1)

Pairing: Nichkhun x Reader | Jaehyun x Reader

Warning: Eventual smut, cheating, angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Surprise! It's now a series. Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

Summary: You're life with Nichkhun was amazing, until you went to visit him on a business trip, where you meet Jaehyun, a friend and coworker of your boyfriend. Things escalate quickly from a little flirting in a club, but things get even worse when Nichkhun finds out. "

Y/N." Nichkhun growls. "Give it back." He says, trying his best not to smile. You stand on the other side of the couch, his phone in your hand as you stick your tongue out at him.

"You want it back?" You ask.

He nods his head.

"Then come get it." You yell, laughing as he charges for you, bursting out into laughter as well. Sometimes you were needy, especially when you felt like he was paying more attention to his phone than you. You giggle and scream as you run around the couch, Wooyoung sitting on the couch watching the two of you in disgust. Nichkhun grabs you, pulling you into him, peppering your face in kisses. You stop fighting him and he sets you down as you both continue laughing. You give him back his phone and he slides it into his pocket before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"I love you, beautiful." He whispers.

"And I love you." You grin, placing a kiss on his lips.

"And I'm gonna be sick." Wooyoung groans, leaving the living room as the two of you laugh at his annoyance and disgust of your love. It had been two years of just pure bliss and happiness with Nichkhun, something you never thought you'd ever find, until you found him.

A few hours later, you were sitting on the edge of the bed with your arms crossed as you watched Nichkhun pack a bag. As usual, a last minute business meeting came up, and he was taking off for a week.

"Babe, where's my blue suit? The one with the stripes.. yanno?" He yells from inside the closet. As much as you didn't want to help him, you begrudgingly stood up, shuffling towards the closet to help him find the suit he needed. You roll your eyes as you walk in, and Nichkhun is on one knee, holding a ring pop, making you laugh. "I'm sorry I have to leave my love, but with this ring, I hope you remember that I love you, and I can't wait to come back to you and marry you one day." He grins.

He always knew how to make you feel better and put a smile on your face. Some days you swore he knew you better than you knew yourself. You take the ring and stick it on your finger as he stands up.

"Now, I actually do need my suit." He laughs.

"You mean the one that's hanging right in front of you?" You giggle, taking it off the rack and handing it to him.

"My savior." He grins, putting it carefully in his bag.

"Toothbrush?" You ask him, beginning to list off the items he needs.

"Yes!" He exclaims.

"Underwear? Socks? Passport? Wallet? Casual clothes?" You ask.

"Check, check, check.. where's my passport?" He asks worriedly. Despite only going to a different city, he still needed it.

"Nightstand, left hand side." You sigh. He quickly leaves the closet, going to his nightstand as you zip up his bag, bringing it into the bedroom.

"Like I said, my savior." He grins.

"I'll call you when I land." He says before answering his ringing phone. "I'll be right down."

He gives you a quick peck before heading through your lavish apartment, with you following behind him, watching him walk out the front door, leaving you alone.

It had been a few days and you still hadn't heard from Nichkhun. This really wasn't unusual for him, considering he got very busy with work but he hadn't even sent you a goodnight text in the last 3 days, and that made you really sad. So you decided to do something about it. With a plan in your head you went to sleep, knowing you had an early morning ahead of you.

When you woke up, you booked your last minute ticket, and began packing your bags. You felt a frisson of excitement skate across your nerve endings as you zipped up your bags and waited for your ride to the airport. You very rarely, well actually never had surprised Nichkhun, but this time it felt right. It felt like it was going to be a wonderful surprise.

After a smooth flight, you caught a cab, and told him to go to the hotel Nichkhun was at. You felt like nothing could go wrong, this was the perfect plan, with a perfect execution. You paid the nice cab driver, who also took your bags from his car for you and you went into the lobby to wait for Nichkhun. You called his phone a few times, but he didn't pick up. You look around the fancy hotel and observe a couple who seemed to not be able to keep their hands off each other. You loved that for them. You smiled to yourself, imagining you and Nichkhun being that publicly annoying. You wished you could show your love and passion the way they were. The way they touched each other, it spoke of passion and need and familiarity.

You looked at your phone that has now gone to voicemail six times, you glance up once more and see the faces of the couple that enter the elevator with tears in your eyes.

“Welcome to Club Arriba! What can I get you to drink?”

"6 shots of your strongest liquor." You yell, slapping the credit card that Nichkhun had given you for emergencies. Clearly this was one, and so was the lavish hotel room, and the room service you had ordered before coming to the club.

"You got it." The bartender smiles, sliding the cars off the bar. You stand there waiting for your shots when three girls approach you.

"I love your dress." One giggles. You hold up your finger, asking for a moment before you quickly, and quite professionally down four of the six shots you had bought.

"Thank you." You grin. You turn to the bartender and wave him over. "Four more shots for me and my new friends." You yell, taking the last two shots on the counter.

And like that, you had made friends with some really nice girls, who bought you drinks too. The four of you were dancing, laughing and having a great time when you feel a pair of hands land on your hips. You look behind him and see an extremely handsome man smiling down at you. You don't mind, you enjoy the attention, besides it wasn't like you were getting much these days anyways. You move your body closer to his, swaying your hips to the beat of the music, while smiling at your new friends, who were also dancing with others. As you were getting more into it, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist. You look up and see a man that you absolutely recognize trying to pull you away from the other man that had begun groping you.

"What are you doing?" You ask. Glaring at the man. You know him.. from.. Nickhun's office. "Jaehyun?" You ask. He looks at you surprised that you remembered his name. He pulls you away from the man, through the crowd to a secluded hallway. He swings you around, pushing you against the wall as he crosses his arms.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asks. "You're in a relationship with my good friend and my boss." He hisses.

"Mhm, are you sure you're as good of a friend as you think you are?" You ask, tilting your head to the side.

"I don't understand what you mean." He sighs.

Of course he doesn't. No one knows, you didn't even know until this morning.

"What do you want, Jae? Should I blow you so you don't tell my precious Nichkhun?" You ask, pouting.

"I would never do that to Nichkhun." He deepens. "I'm going to have to tell him about this." He finishes.

You shrug your shoulders, pushing yourself off the wall. "Do what you gotta do." You say. “You know what I’ll help you tell him." You say, taking out your phone. Jaehyun stands there, watching you, unsure of what you're doing. You turn around with snapchat open, and kiss him on the cheek before snapping a picture before he moves away from you.

"What the fuck are you doing? Do you realize that this looks fucking bad?" He yells.

"I've seen the way you look at me when I come into the office. Do you want a taste Jae? Would you like to feel me gripping you while inside me? How about how wet and warm it would feel to cum inside me? So good." You whisper into his ear.

Jaehyun moves back from you, looking partially offended, and partially turned on from what you said. He doesn't say anything to you, he just walks away, and you watch him disappear into the crowd. You adjust your dress and throw your shoulders back and walk back to your new friends.

As you continue to dance, you can feel eyes on you, raking your body up and down. You look around and see Jaehyun leaning against the bar, his arms crossed as he watches you. The way your hands roam your body, the way you lick your lips as you watch him. You can feel his guard being let down as he begins to inch closer to you. The rush of victory flows through your body as he walks towards you.

"Let me take you home." He says, offering his hand to you. He slides Nichkhun's credit card back in your purse and he weaves the two of you out of the club.

"Are you trying to get in my panties, Jaehyun?" You ask, looking at the handsome man.

"I'm just taking you home." He says.

The two of you are standing outside your hotel room as you put your key in and open the door to your large suite.

"Don't tell Nichkhun I'm here." You say, walking inside, Jaehyun following you.

"Let's just get you to bed." He sighs.

You stand in front of him, pulling your dress off, dropping it on the floor. You're almost naked, in front of your boyfriend's good friend, feeling nothing but lust and attraction for this man.

Jaehyun takes a deep breath. "Fuck it." He whispers, crashing his lips onto yours, pushing you onto the bed. Your fun starts now, and soon Nichkhun will know that revenge is a bitch.

#jaehyun #nct jaehyun #nct smut #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun #2pm #nichkhun #nichkhun smut #2pm smut #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop writing #kpop imagines #kpop icons #kpop smut #jaehyun x reader #nichkhun x reader

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iheartreiner · 2 years ago

Text

"It was always you"

(Not my GIF)

Dallon Weekes x Reader

Angst

Set in the V&V Era minus Dallon, you are the keyboardist, multi-instrumentals, and backing vocals for P!ATD.

"So yeah guys life's pretty good.." Dallon says to his phone on an insta live. You look at him tears welling up in your eyes from the statement. "Yeah its been pretty smooth these last couple weeks. Haven't had many issues popping up-"

You run out of the room into the bathroom before he could finish his statement and slam the door. You start to sob silently so Dallon doesn't hear you.

Dallon hasn't really spoken to you for a couple weeks for no apparent reason but when he did it was to be an asshole.

After you let all your tears go you walk out of the bathroom and back into the livingroom. Dallon didn't even look up as you walked by and go to your shared bedroom.

He had been your offical boyfriend for about a year and nothing like this had ever happened.

You grab a guitar off the wall and start playing chords as loud and as hard as you can in frustration. Tears start falling again.

"One moment." Dallon says to the phone and sets it down. He walks into the bedroom "Can you stop being obnoxious for once in your life?!" He says in a yell whisper so the phone doesn't pick it up. You raise your head up to him "Will once you stop."

"I could never match yours."

You throw the guitar to the side and Dallon go's back to the livingroom to continue the live "Sorry guys had to adjust something."

You grab a backpack and start throwing stuff in it. You put your guitar in its case and throw it over your back.

You walk into the livingroom and stare at Dallon. After several seconds until he looks up. He sighs "One second guys gotta take care of something."

He stands up and towers over you "Why are you so dramatic?!" He keeps his voice low.

"Me?! I'm not the one who keeps ignoring the person you said you would love forever!" You say loud.

"Its not like we're married!! We live together! I've had a lot going on!"

"I don't care you can at least tell me if you hate me!"

"Maybe we just shouldn't be together anymore.."

"What?"

"Yeah. We've grown apart. I loved you but-"

Tears start stinging your eyes and run over to the couch and throw his phone across the room "Well I mean sure! You care about random strangers more than me so fuck you Dallon! You can just go and get 45 cent jobs in an alley way that's all your worth!" You scream with tears still falling.

He looks at you shocked but then runs after his phone. A lot of his viewer left but not after commenting things like "Fuck boy" and "Dip shit.". Some of course say that your a crazy bitch and that they are single.

"Goodbye Dallon." You say between sobs. You were about to run out the door but first steal the bass he was playing on the live.

"[Y/N] wait!" He yells. You were already out the door. The bass wasn't he worry. "I'm sorry." He whispers to himself before ending the live.

---

You walk over to Brendon's apartment he shares with Spencer. You bang on the door several times loudly until one of them answers the door.

"God damn it's 10:30pm!" Brendon says before he sees its you "Oh sorry [Y/N] I- what's wrong?"

You sob "I- he-"

Brendon takes you into the apartment and hugs you "Tell me later."

Spencer walks out of his room to see what happened "Whats going on?"

You just break out in more sobs. Spencer puts his hands up and doesn't speak again. Brendon puts his hand on the back of your head so your head is in the crook of his neck "Its gonna be ok..". He rubs your back.

"We have a third room you can stay in if you need it."

You nod. "Dallon-" you say and that's all you get out before getting into a sobbing mess again. Brendon hugs you again and leads you to the room.

"Whats with the bass?" Brendon asks. You shake your head and put all your stuff on the bed "Thank you." You say with a voice crack. Brendon nods "No problem. Tell me what happened in the morning?"

You nod.

~The next day~

You get up and look at your phone just to see a picture of Dallon as your lockscreen followed with several texts from him. You block him as tears start welling back up.

You walk into the living corridors where Brendon and Spencer sit. "Morning!" Brendon says in a happy tone. You continue to walk but hold your hand out as a wave.

You go to the bathroom and look in the mirror. "No wonder Dallon broke hated you." You say soft and tears well up again. You shake your head "No.. he didn't deserve you. He didn't deserve this face, this personality." You try to make your self cheer up. You force smile and wipe tears so Brendon and Spencer don't have to see you in that state.

After you get your self together you walk about and go to a recliner silently.

Brendon and Spencer look at eachother awkwardly.

"What happened honey?" Brendon says sweet and calmly.

You wipe your eyes again "Dallon hasn't been talking to me much for weeks and we finally broke. He said he's glad he's not me and that we've grown apart. He cares more about random strangers than me anyway. He hates me." You start crying again.

"He doesn't hate you, if he doesn't know what he had. He didn't deserve you anyway." Spencer says to cheer you up. You nod wipe your eyes "Thank you." You say softly.

"We can go over there and get some of your stuff." Brendon says. You shake your head eagerly. "We can go in." Spencer responds to your disapproval. "No you don't have to do that." You say assuring him.

"No we have no problem doing anything for you."

"We can go now even." Brendon responds. Spencer nods.

~At Dallon's house~

Brendon knocks on the door. Dallon answers after a few seconds. Dallon's eyes were puffy from crying. "Hell are you crying?" Brendon asks pushing past him. "[Y/N]?" Dallon says hoping you were with them. "She's not here. Why would she want go see you anyway." Spencer says before walking past him and follows Brendon.

Brendon start just putting a bunch of stuff in a bag. Dallon watches "Tell her I'm sorry. It's been a lot these last few weeks I didn't know how bad it had impacted her." He says and starts crying again.

He and Brendon do the 'bro hug' thing "Will do.".

~Back at the apartment~

You are sitting in your room hugging the bass. Brendon sees you doing that and is immediately saddened after seeing both of you. "Dallon says he's sorry." He's says handing you the stuff. "Sure he is." You mumble under your breath.

~Weeks later~

You've been living with Brendon and Spencer. You haven't really had many things career wise you've had to do so it's been pretty chillatious. Brendon and Spencer have took care of you and made sure you ate.

Before Ryan and Jon left they had asked you if you would go to their new band. You considered it but ultimately declined after you saw the impact the split had on Brendon and Spencer. You were glad you stayed in Panic! now.

Today you have an acoustic performance for a radio station. These were always fun...

You only had to do backing vocals as Brendon would cover the acoustic guitar part.

You get to the stations set up and sit silently. "You sure you can do this?" Spencer asks quietly. "Yeah.. it's not like I'm dying. Only inside." You respond. Spencer nods.

You and Brendon were going to duet the songs. The station gave you the list of songs There were five of them and they went straight through you. "Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off", "Northern Downpour", "When The Day Met The Night", "New Perspective", and of course "I Write Sins Not Tragedies".

"Can I do this?" you asked yourself. Well you were gonna find out.

You sang all the songs in duet form and as soon as you were done with the last song you stood up and just walked away before anything else could happen.

~Dallons POV~

Dallon saw the performance in his YouTube feed. He held back tears as soon as he saw you. You didn't look as full of life.

The first song was I Write Sins. You and Brendon did the face to face thing which Dallon always laughed at but not this time. The song didn't really get to him, hearing your voice did. The next one however it was different.

It was Lying Is The Most Fun. You looked straight at the camera when you sang "You know it will always be me." It was as if you have sang it straight to him. Dallon had tears falling.

Then there was Northern Downpour. That song is just sad in general but him hearing it come out of your mouth after what happened made it sadder.

Then you sang New Perspective. Dallon felt every word go straight through his heart especially when you sang "Who cares divine intervention I wanna be praised from a new perspective but leaving now would be a good idea so catch me up I'm getting out of here."

Last was When The Day Met The Night. It was like the story of the both of you and Dallon so hearing you sing it he lost it and started sobbing again.

He sees you leave the set as soon as you finish singing and has an idea why. Him.

~Your perspective~

You sit backstage wiping your eyes before tears fell.

Brendon and Spencer came back to you as fast as they could. "It was like the whole set was about Dallon!" You sobbed. Spencer hugs you "Its ok. It'll be alright." He rubs your back as you sob.

You walk out to the car Spencer and Brendon guarding you from pictures as you were embarrassed about the entire situation.

You get to the car and sit in the back seat.

"So [Y/N].." Brendon says driving.

"What!" You yell not wanting to speak.

"See its that time of the month.." He mumbles under his breath to Spencer not expecting you to hear it.

Spencer chuckles.

"You asshole! I can be mad any day of the damn month!"

Brendon and Spencer tense up as you yell at them.

"Brendon have you even had a girl long enough to know what happens? How did they even get it through both of your bone heads?! You both can preform but you're both dumb as fuck! Do you even want me living with you? Dumb fucks I could take you both in a fight any day! Pull over lets go right now!"

"Me and Spencer are going to this performance thing at a bar tonight. Come with us?" Brendon says trying to de-escalate the situation to prevent homicide or even more distracted driving.

"No." You yell back "Why would I want to that that would be rather embarrassing going out in a public bar with you both!"

Brendon looks at Spencer not knowing what to say. Spencer motions in a way to say I don't know. Brendon motions back that he doesn't know and to say something.

"Oh yes you are." Spencer says "You need to get out and around. You can't stay locked up forever. We could be like you dads?"

"What the fuck?" Brendon mouths theatrically to Spencer.

"I don't know?!" He mouthes back in the sane fashion.

You don't respond.

As soon as you pull up you storm passed them both and into the apartment.

~Later, at the bar~

Spencer and Brendon drug you out of the apartemnt and to the bar bit not without a fight.

You follow either of them around just depending on where they go.

About an hour later the music begins. You watch in admiration for some of them and really enjoy it until you hear oh so familiar names.

"Next up we have Dallon Weekes and Ryan Seaman!" The announcer says.

You start to walk toward the door but Brendon catches you "No. You have to listen."

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do!"

He drags you back to Spencer fighting you

"Your not my dad!" You yell.

"Yes I am!" Brendon realizes what he said to late "I take that back Im your brother figure!"

"I don't care!"

Brendon eventually drags you back before it starts.

"Hey so I'm Dallon Weekes and we are gonna be singing a song my friend wrote called "Always". I'm also dedicating this to a girl that probably wants to set my house of fire and murder me so yeah go's like this."

You look at Brendon and Spencer and then back to Dallon. You try to tip toe away but Brendon and Spencer have their eyes on you.

When you actually listened you could feel the emotion in every lyric he sang. After the first chorus tears started to form. Did he still love you? That's all you wanted.

The performance felt so genuine and you just wanted to give him a hug and tell him it's all better now.

After he finishes he walks off. He didn't see you. Brendon and Spencer lead you back stage where Dallon was on his phone.

There were tears in his eyes as well as yours. You immediately ran up to him and started hugging him. "[Y/N]?!" He said exicted and immediately returned the hug. "Yeah!" You say with tears running down your face. You continue to hug and tear up for several moments.

"I didn't think you'd ever forgive me." Dallon admitted.

"I didn't think I ever would when it happened."

Dallon wipes your tears away "I was going through a lot and regretted everything Insaid immediately. I'm so so so sorry I didn't mean anything said or that I called you. I don't think I could ever get tired of you."

"I don't care." You say and kiss him and wipe his tears.

When you turned around Brendon and Spencer were already gone.

"Can I come back." You say and start tearing up again.

"You shouldn't ever have to ask that baby. Yes, you are always aloud its your house too."

You smile "I love you."

Dallon smiles back "I love you too."

You and Dallon walk back into to the audience area close together. You find Brendon and Spencer and they are happy with the outcome.

After you get all your stuff from the apartment you go home with Dallon and finally get to sleep in your bed.

"It was always you." Dallon whispers to you thinking you were asleep. You were glad you go to here those four words coming from the love of your life.

This ending sucks that's all I've got say. This was also really long so.

23 notes · View notes

brattyfics · 4 years ago

Text

Like That

Pairing: Rio x Black!Reader

Summary: You and Rio get to know each other better. Loosely based on ‘Like That’ by Doja Cat.

Warnings: Smut.

Word Count: 3.5K

Installments: Say So | Like That | Talk Dirty

And baby, I want it, and I'll just be honest 'Cause I just can't front when I look at you

About six weeks have passed since Rio declared himself your man, and you quickly learned he took the title very seriously.

He was busier than usual with ‘flipping his game,’ and you were busy preparing to transition your shop, but you saw each other often despite time constraints. You agreed date nights at least once a week were a must, but when you couldn’t see each other, Rio made sure to end nights with a phone call. Virtually falling asleep next to him gave you butterflies, reminding you just how exciting new relationships could be. It took prodding, but he told you made-up bedtime stories and the boring details of his day. In return, you shared things about yourself— childhood memories, the crazy things your mom did to embarrass you. He was sweet and attentive, and you found it refreshing to be with someone who was just as infatuated with you.

On your second date, he took you to his favorite restaurant, a fancy sushi place with expensive rolls. He taught you to hold chopsticks the wrong way the way he did and even fed you across the small table, a couple of unfortunate rolls falling apart due to his prodding. You tried your best to hide your amusement at the pensive look on his face. For whatever reason, Rio thought of himself as a sushi connoisseur, but it was clear to you that he was still learning.

“You’re no better than me!” He admonished when he noticed the way you held your chopsticks. Like his technique, it was incorrect, but it worked for you— sort of. “I never said I was.” You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face any longer. “You’re the one who comes here weekly. I thought you were a professional, and we’re in the same boat.” He folded his arms on top of the table as he insisted you were wrong, but secretly he found your teasing endearing. Later that night, he called and gave you a cheesy line about loving to see you smile.

The following week, you had lunch at a mom-and-pop soul food restaurant that served the best cornbread and peach cobbler in the city. The owners, an adorable older couple, Donna and Gene, and servers alike stopped by your table to meet Rio. Donna gushed over Rio, showering him with compliments and extra cornbread. “Girl, he is cute!” She told you, failing miserably at whispering. He smirked as you rolled your eyes, but he handled the attention well, being friendly and personable even when Gene kept going on and on about changes to the menu, one chef to another.

A few days later, he called you up randomly and asked you to get ready and ride with him somewhere. “What should I wear?” You asked, hoping for a hint. You could hear him smile as he said, “It doesn’t even matter, ma. You always look good.” The occasion had turned out to be ‘Foodtruck Friday.’ Barbecue, kebab, taco, ice cream, and other miscellaneous food trucks were parked in a spacious lot in Downtown Detroit. You settled at a picnic table and shared several plates of food as you discussed the possibility of your own mobile ‘Mad Batter’ shop somewhere down the line. It got you thinking about the future.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” You asked the dreaded question in between bites of a colorful Korean fusion taco. He stiffened as he considered the answer. “What is this, a job interview?” Sometimes you saw peeks of bossman Rio rather than the Christopher Castillo you were getting to know. It happened seemingly out of nowhere when you asked questions he felt were invasive.

You looked up from the panko-fried shrimp, red cabbage, shredded carrots, and tasty orange sauce wrapped up in a flour tortilla with a frown. You had two choices: respond in the way he had or make light of the situation. So, you said, “Kinda. You’re auditioning for a spot on my roster, so...”

He stopped chewing the half-eaten dumpling and swallowed hard. “That’s not funny.”

“You better start taking the interviewing part of the audition more seriously then.” You wiped your fingers on a napkin, and he gathered your hand in his own, wearing a look you couldn’t decipher. “You got it, ma.”

You played a game of mini-golf at the local arcade. Rio stood tall behind you, holding you by your hips as he corrected your stance. You purposefully arched your back, brushing against him just slightly. “Like this?” You looked over your shoulder with the most innocent look you could muster, but his eyes were glued to your ass. “Yeah, just like that.” He answered in a low tone without looking up. You giggled as you took your swing, adding a wiggle for his benefit. You pretended to care about the ball as it glided across the bright green tarp towards the hole. “How was that?” You chirped, looking down the lane.

“I can’t even lie. I don’t care about the game right now. I just wanna watch you.” Your aim was terrible, and the ball never went in the hole without several attempts, but he insisted you finish playing the course. You teased him about it for days after despite his claim that he actually enjoyed the game because it was one of Marcus’ favorites.

“Stop lying! You just wanted an excuse to openly watch my ass.”

“Why you always gotta call me out?”

You shopped a cozy health and wellness store with hundreds of cool little trinkets for sale. Neither of you had been there before, so you took your time exploring, stealing unexpected kisses from the other. Rio took full advantage of the size of the store, pulling you by the hand and holding you close to his side.

He frowned at the large collection of shiny crystals. “A rock, really? What does anybody need with a rock?”

“It’s not a rock!” You hissed, head whipping around as you hoped the owner didn’t hear him.

“What is it then? It looks like a rock to me.” He picked one up, turning it over in his hands.

“It’s a crystal!”

“What’s the difference?”

“It has healing properties...” Rio snorted but strung his arm across your shoulder and listened intently as you read the info cards to him. When it was all said and done, he bought an aventurine stone to apologize to the owner for prosperity, well-being, and good luck.

The next day, he disappeared with no warning. You had been worried sick until Mick let you know he was busy handling something. It would have only taken a minute to tell you that, so you were (understandably) pissed. He showed up at the shop several days later like nothing had ever happened. “What’s up, mama?” The greeting that usually melted you grated on your nerves. All of your feelings about the situation bubbled up to the surface. It was hard to find the right words— you were still getting to know each other, so how mad could you be? At the same time, how little did he think of you to not say anything? Finally, you settled on, “I can’t do the disappearing act.”

Rio wasn’t used to answering to anyone, not even his child’s mother, about his whereabouts, but he put his palms up in surrender when he saw the serious expression you wore.

“You’re right, mama. That’s my bad. It won’t happen again.”

And it hadn’t.

But knowing ahead of time only made it a tiny bit easier, especially when he didn’t have a set return date. You were going on day seven (the longest you had gone without seeing him since you started dating) when he called to say he made it home and wanted to see you. Your heavy heart swelled with relief. You missed him way more than you probably should have, so you insisted on a night in at your place, wanting him to feel relaxed and at home instead of on guard somewhere public.

It had been a long six weeks without sex while he romanced you with delicious food and beautiful words. It wasn’t an easy task, but you knew as soon as sex was thrown in the mix, you would be done for, either destined to be his or ruined by him. It was a scary thought, but distance had indeed made the heart grow fonder, and you cared about him enough to take a chance.

He was set to arrive within the hour, but you were still unsure of what to wear, frantically rummaging through the dresser for something cute and comfortable. You let out a frustrated groan when your phone started to ring, thinking Rio might have come early, but when you look down at your phone, you see your best friend’s name and face. You swipe quickly, accepting the FaceTime call. “Hey, girl!”

“Hey, stranger!” You pick up the phone, so you can look at her. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” She replies with just as much sass. “I haven’t talked to you in what— two weeks?”

“We talk—“

“—text.”

“Okay, fine. Text. We text every day. What are you talking about?”

“That’s not the same.” She insists even as you remind her of the ridiculous amount of time you spend trading memes and food pictures with her.

“Anyway, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to decide what I’m going to wear between this, this, or this.” You move the camera around, showing her the different options. A black-and-white tank and short set with ‘Being cute is not a crime’ in a cute font. A fuzzy grey sweatsuit set with hearts, or a simple cream hoodie with matching shorts.

“Um, what’s the occasion?” You giggle at the look on her face, knowing she thinks none of the above are appropriate for wearing outside of the house.

“Movie night in.”

“You need help picking an outfit for movie night with yourself?” Her face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, is it movie night with yourself?” You try to be casual about it, shrugging your shoulders in response. As usual, she sees through your bullshit and goes straight into an interrogation. “Oh, bitch. You been holding out on me!” She asks you five questions in a row without stopping to breathe before settling on one. “Who?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. “...Rio.”

“Rio?” She frowns. “Like the guy we work for, Rio? With the eyebrows and the neck tattoo, Rio?”

“Yes, that Rio.”

“Wow.” You wince but decide it’s best to get it over with. “What? I know you, so I know there’s more where that came from.”

“I don’t know what to say! From what I can tell, he’s a decent dude, I guess, but you know what he does. You definitely know what we do for him! You don’t think that could be a problem?”

“It’s messy, for sure, and I can admit that, but I’ve been thinking about getting out anyway...” She nods. “Then, I guess there’s nothing else for me to say about that. You’re both grown, and you know what you’re doing.” She was your best friend, which meant she’d always give her honest opinion, but wouldn’t berate you about your choices. Just like that, you return to your regular discussion topics, everything from warehouse gossip (yes, even in the business of crime, there’s a rumor mill) to new music releases. Before you knew it, forty minutes had passed, and Rio was calling your phone. You promised to call her more often before hanging up.

You sing your ‘hello’ into the phone, hoping Rio can’t detect the shakiness in your voice as you clumsily pull on your bottoms.

“Hey, mama. You about ready? I know you’re sensitive about your space and all that.” He was referring to the fact that he had never been past the doorway of your home. Your home was your sacred place, so you were extra careful about who came in and what energy they brought. It was always nerve-wracking to let somebody into the space that you cherished so much.

“Yeah.” He picks up on the hesitancy in your voice. “Are you sure?” You nod your head as if he can see you before telling him yes with a giggle. “Alright, well, I’m outside. Can I come in?” You bite your lip, butterflies fluttering in your tummy. “Yeah, I’ll come unlock the door.” He whispers his thanks, and you take a moment to force yourself to relax. When you meet him at the door, you do so with an open mind and heart, taking in his appearance with a goofy grin on your face. As usual, he’s dressed in all black, wearing a well-fitted t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s casual but still so high quality and attractive.

“Hi.” You breathe out like a dork when you realize you’re staring. It helps that he seems just as mesmerized, stepping forward to envelop you in a tight, warm hug. He sways you from side to side before pulling back, his hands resting heavily on the top of your ass. He settles for a quick peck on the lips because he has something to say. “You’re as pretty as ever, darlin’.” He says earnestly, shaking his head as he steps back to look you over once more.

“Kiss me again.” His hands cup your ass as you devour each other in the open doorway. You forget your surroundings. “Damn, ma. Can I at least get inside before you jump my bones? I don’t mind giving your neighbors a show if that’s your thing, but…” You turn to hide your embarrassment, leaving him to close the door behind you as you gesture around the room as if you’re in an episode of MTV Cribs. “... here’s the living room. The kitchen’s through the arch. The bathroom’s over there...” He follows you with his red as you point.

“And the bedroom?”

You snort. “The tour stops here for now. Sit down.” Your tone leaves no room for argument. He settles into the soft couch while you grab the snack tray from the kitchen. Homemade popcorn, chocolate-covered pretzels, and dried fruit gummies are on the menu.

“All this for me?” His arms snake around your waist so that you can curl up into his side. “What we watching?” You grab the remote. “I saw a trailer this week that caught my attention. I’ll play it for you.” He didn’t care what you watched as long as he got to be close to you, so it didn’t take long for you to get the movie started. He stole glances at you when his knuckles brushed against your bare knees under the blanket. You’re embarrassed at how wet the small action makes you, so you stretch out across the couch and place your bare feet in his lap, silently planning your revenge. The movie may as well not be playing because you couldn’t be less interested in the plot as you lightly stroke him through his sweatpants with the balls of your feet.

“Ma...” He warns, watching you in the low lighting. He’s come to learn you like to tease, but he doesn’t think he can take it, not tonight. “Hmm?” You hum innocently, loving the strained look on your face. He doesn’t move even as you sit up on your haunches and kiss him. It’s slow and long in the best way. He pulls you to sit in his lap. His hands roam your body as you grind down onto him, relishing in the feeling of the soft skin on your tummy. He sighs into your mouth as one hand finds your bare breasts.

He pulls away to talk shit. “No bra? You just knew I was gonna put out, huh?” He pushes the cotton material up so he can see you properly. “Perfect.” He murmurs into your skin. You let him kiss and lick and suck on your nipples until the pressure you feel below is too much to handle. You’re a quivering mess when he finally helps you pull the cotton material up and over your head. It lands on top of the television behind you, but neither of you notice.

You nudge him until he removes his own shirt, and then he lifts his hips to help you when you begin tugging on his sweats. They puddle at his feet while you spread your legs wide, desperate to get your hands on him. “I could cry right now.” You admit honestly when you finally see him, biting your lip. He arches a brow. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing, darlin’?” His hips jerk when you take him into your hands, the cold temperature surprising him.

“It’s definitely a good thing.” You whisper excitedly, staring with wonder as he hardens in your hands. He barks out a laugh, stunned by your ability to make him laugh, even with his dick in your hands. “That’s really nice, ma. I feel real special.” Your eyes meet, and silent promises of all the filthy things you’re going to do to each other are exchanged. “You should. I’m about to change your life.” He throbs in your hands, loving that you find small ways to challenge him.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.” He wraps his arms around you in preparation to get up, but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don’t wanna.”

“No? What you wanna do then?”

You answer him by slipping to your knees. You spit on his dick, stroking him up and down slowly. He watches you closely as you lower your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip. It takes a lot of restraint, but he lets you do your thing, slowly working him deeper into your throat. He closes his eyes as he concentrates on lasting, but he can’t turn his ears off, the obscene smacks painting a vivid picture for him. When you swipe your tongue across his balls, he moves to stop you, grabbing your shoulders. Fire dances in your eyes as you realize you got him where you want him. “I don’t wanna.” You repeat.

“You are a brat.”

You release him with a pop. “The biggest.” You admit, swallowing him once more. He groans, thinking he can’t believe you’re the same sweet girl who bakes in a frilly pink apron and begs him to tell her bedtime stories.

“I want you to fuck me now.” He stops you before you can bend over the couch. “Slow down. I want you on your back, darlin.”

You throw his earlier words back at him. “That’s nice. I feel really special.”

“You should.” He mocks you, instructing you to hold your legs wide. He wastes no time licking and sucking you as enthusiastically as you had done him. “You’re so pretty. I could eat this pretty pussy forever.” He compliments as you squirm in his hold. “You’d let me, huh?” You shake your head frantically. “No! You’d drive..me crazy!” Payback is a mother, especially when Rio’s the one dishing it out. “Wait, wait—“You whimper, clawing at his shoulders.

“What?” He cajoles. He almost wants to laugh at the distressed look on your face. “I want you.” You pout, trying to sweet-talk him.

“You have me.”

“Not like this. Inside.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Mhm.” You swallow, watching as he fumbles around with his pants searching for a condom. He opens the golden foil packet with expert fingers, positioning himself in between your spread legs. “You don’t have any pointers for me now?” He drags his tip up and down your slit, slowly pushing his way further. Teasing. You shake your head. “No. Just fuck me.”

“That ain’t polite. You gotta say please, mama.” You scowled, but he didn’t budge. “Please.” You pleaded with the sweetest tone you could muster, sighing as he gave in. You cursed at the stretch, him at the way you squeezed him. “You feel…” He couldn’t find the words, so he buried his face in your neck, trying to gain some composure. You caressed the back of his neck sweetly. “You feel good too, baby.”

His hips stuttered forward, and you gasped as he worked himself deeper. You grasp his shoulders tightly, your nails embedding themselves into the soft skin.

“Yes!” You squeal.

“Like that?” He grits out, struggling to keep his rhythm.

“Yes, just like that!” You cry, moaning as he pounds up into you. His lips find yours again, and it’s bliss. Then before you can stop yourself, you’re calling him Daddy like it’s his given name. He groans into your sweaty neck like he’s in pain.

“You’re so nasty.” Overwhelmed and breathless, you whine your protest, “You’re nasty. Look at what you’re doing to me.” His eyes shift to where you’re connected. You’re creaming all over him and leaking down onto the couch, but you can’t bring yourself to care about anything other than coming. You do just that, mewling as you make an even bigger mess between your legs. He whispers filthy things into your ear as he finishes, grunting at the way you seem to be sucking him in even deeper.

“That was—“

“—unreal.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you can bring yourself to move. Your sweat-covered skin sticks together. You swipe your hand against your forehead while he pants.

“I wanted to ride you at least once tonight, but after that, I’ll be lucky to make it to bed.”

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903

RIO TAGLIST

@xsweetdellzx

#good girls rio #nbc good girls #manny montana #rio x reader #rio x black!reader

616 notes · View notes

ratofthemedievalsewers · 3 years ago

Text

Heart of Steel - Part I

DBH Connor x Male Reader

Word Count: 2.5K+

Content warning: Minor injury detail, PTSD, language

Original game dialogue I got from this video:

https://youtu.be/32Np9LKI1Vg

We were attacked in the night.

After returning from a mission back to an outpost several miles from the red zone, we removed our gear save for a few pouches on our belts we could bother with later. Our team leader set up a fire while the SQ800s, CyberLife commissioned combat androids, began loading up the trucks with extra artillery and resources. A job that could have waited until morning, but Alpha always gave the androids something to do. He said that they creeped him out when they would just stand there in a dormant state, waiting for their next mission to be given to them.

"You know what I'm going to do when I get home?"

"Here we go again."

"I'm going to get me a WR400," Foxtrot; not everyone's favourite but he certainly kept us entertained when there was nothing to do.

"Uh-huh and with what money are you going to be using to pay for this WR400? A military salary definitely ain't gonna cut it." Echo always called out Foxtrot's bullshit, he was the only one that had the patience to deal with him.

"Fine, my birthday is comin' up, if you put towards two-thirds of what it costs we can share. How does that sound?"

"I am not sharing anything with you, I don't know what diseases you carry." Their constant back forth sent chuckles through the group.

"Alright, that's enough you two. It's getting late and past everyone's bedtime, I want you all awake by O-five-hundred at the latest," Alpha would often stop them before Foxtrot would take it too far, but he could never hide the twitching smile on his face.

"Yes sir," Foxtrot mock saluted as he stood from his seat around the campfire. "Hey Echo, that offer is still-"

One moment Foxtrot had a wide grin on his face, the next there was a hole in his head between his eyes, the sound of gunshot ringing in everyone's ears.

"SHOTS FIRED! GET TO COVER NOW!"

"FOXTROT IS DOWN! I REPEAT, FOXTROT IS DOWN!"

It was dark, we couldn't see where they were firing from. The android was the only one still standing, firing off in random directions as they were gunned down. The next was Delta, shot in the left shoulder, then the throat. My gun was back in my tent and there was no chance of me getting it. Stupid.

"MEDIC! GET TO DELTA! NOW!"

"GRENADE!"

I heard the thump by my feet before I saw it. You would think it would be terrifying, to know you're staring death in the face, but for a second it was peaceful. My body was cold and I already felt like a corpse, the Rigour Mortis freezing me in place, just softly gazing at what would kill me.

Something grabbed me before the grenade exploded, saving my life but destroying the android.

The bedsheets were crumpled and soaked in sweat again when my eyes shot open. It was hard to breathe, the panic was still running through me and closing up my throat at the memory.

In; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four. Out; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four.

It took a few minutes for me to remember where I was. That I was home and that I was safe. Out of nervous habit, I gripped my dog tags, they were wet from the sweat that had soaked through my shirt in the night.

"Shit." It was four in the morning, there was no chance of getting any more sleep and the station wouldn't be open for another two more hours at the least. Saying that; Fowler wanted to speak to me first thing, which never meant anything good for anyone.

It was aching again at the joint. The biomechanical component always felt itchy where it joined at the elbow. Anytime I would have that dream I would scratch at it in my sleep, it was like my subconscious knew it didn't belong. It knew my rotting left arm was still in the desert somewhere being picked apart by vultures.

It's almost ironic; to be saved by an android and then to have part of one attached to me. I hated it.

*****

"Morning Cyborg, you look like shit." Gavin was forever pleasant to talk to.

"Fuck off, Reed." He constantly hovered around the coffee machine, hogging it like it was his newborn baby. "Is Fowler in yet?"

"Not yet, you in trouble?" He took his time making his coffee, exceeding in being the department's resident asshat. "Did he catch you looking at porn on your work terminal again?"

"I'm pretty sure that's only ever happened to you." Not wanting to be reminded of his previous escapades I got no response. Gavin let out a small huff before moving to the side with his fresh cup of coffee, freeing up the machine.

"Officer (L/N)." Oh for fuck's sake.

"Sir?" Captain Fowler stood outside his office, his coat half soaked from the rain.

"My office, I need to speak to you." He didn't give a second glance to me before turning and letting the glass door shut behind him.

"Ha, good luck cyborg." Shooting Gavin the middle finger, I followed Captian Fowler into his office.

"What was it you wished to talk about, sir?" Feet shoulder-width apart, back straight and hands behind my back; habits from the army were destined to die hard. Often I would find myself moving my hand up to salute before leaving the presence of a superior, something else for Gavin to make fun of.

"You're aware of the deviant cases I've assigned to Lieutenant Anderson, correct?" Fowler sat at his desk, wet coat now hung on its rack, but there was slight dampness to his suit blazer where his coat had been left open.

"Yes sir. I believe he's being accompanied by a prototype RK800 from Cyberlife."

"That's correct. I'm sure you're aware that these deviancy cases are on the more..."

"Dangerous?"

"...Unpredictable side. Now, I can't exactly issue a gun to a prototype android if it's going to be in the field and, while I value Hank as a police officer, his record is on the rougher side."

"Captain Fowler, with all due respect, I don't believe-"

"Office (L/N), with all due respect, you don't have an opinion in this matter. I want you to accompany Lieutenant Anderson in these assignments just in case a deviant becomes too much for him or this android to handle. You've certainly got the skillset for it and you're not unfamiliar with working alongside androids, unlike quite a few officers in this department."

"I understand that, but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say I don't want to hear it." Captain Fowler didn't give me a chance to argue as he stood and walked to his office door, the annoyed look on his face worsening. "Hank, in my office!"

I let out a sigh before Captain Fowler turned back to his desk. Through the office wall made of glass Hank reluctantly made his way towards us grumbling something under his breath at the request, the RK800 model obediently following behind him like a little, lost puppy. Hank sat in the chair opposite Fowler while the android stood next to me, giving a small smile as a greeting.

Captain Fowler was the first to talk, "I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day. We've always had isolated incidents, old ladies losing their android maids and that kind of crap... But now, we're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like that guy last night. This isn't just cyberlife's problem anymore, it's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before the shit hits the fan. I want you to investigate these cases, alongside officer (L/N) and see if there's any link."

"Why me? And why do I need a god damned partner? A stupid android is already too much. Why do I gotta be the one to deal with this shit?" Props to Hank for trying, but arguing with Fowler was like talking to a brick wall. "I am the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case! I know jack shit about androids, Jeffery. I can barely change the settings on my own phone."

"Everybody's overloaded. I think you're perfectly qualified for this type of investigation," They were already starting to blow up at each other.

"Bullshit! The truth is nobody wants to investigate these fuckin' androids and you left me holdin' the bag!"

"CyberLife sent over this android to help with this investigation and I've given you (L/N) as well. You've got a state of the art prototype and a leading police officer to act as your partners."

"No fuckin' way! I don't need partners, and certainly not this plastic prick and some action hero fucker."

"Nice working with you too, Lieutenant Anderson," I said under my breath, not intending for the others to hear. Connor turned his head slightly in my direction, I could see his LED blink yellow for a moment before going back to its bright blue.

"Hank, you are seriously starting to piss me off! You are a police lieutenant, you are supposed to do what I say and shut your goddamn mouth!"

"You know what my goddamn mouth has to say to you, huh?"

"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that, so I don't have to add any more pages to your disciplinary folder 'cause it already looks like a fuckin' novel! This conversation is over."

"Jeffrey, Jesus Christ! Why are you doin' this to me? You know how much I hate these fuckin' things. Why are you doin' this to me?" Most of the department knew why he had such a distaste towards androids, no one could necessarily blame him. Ever since losing his son Hank had become completely different as both a person and an officer. Admittedly, Fowler was harsh on him, but if he wasn't then Hank would drift.

"I've had just enough of your bitching. Either you do your job or you hand in your badge. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." Hank left in a strop, letting out his frustration on Fowler's office door.

"Well then..." Connor was quick to break the tense silence. His voice caught me off guard, it was smoother, more human than any android's I had heard before. The SQ800's voices had always been more robotic than other models so it had been a shock when the androids back home had sounded so normal, it felt like that all over again. It was jarring. "I won't keep you any longer. Have a nice day captain."

Connor left and I followed behind, giving a small nod of dismissal to Fowler despite him still looking at his terminal screen.

The android went straight to Hank either oblivious or ignoring the lieutenant's current bad mood, granted there was never a time the bastard was in a good mood. Heaven itself could rain down on Detroit and he'd huff at it like a hair in his food.

"I got the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant. I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that. In any case, I'd like you to know I'm very to be working with you." Ever the enthusiast.

"I'd give in now. You're talking to a toddler in a fifty-year old's body and the toddler is having a hissy fit." I half sat and half leant against Hank's desk, using my arms to support my weight.

"Apologies, I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Connor, I am the android sent by CyberLife." He turned to me, a gentle and manufactured smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to be working with you too, officer (L/N). I'm sure we'll make a great team."

"Er... (Y/N) is just fine."

"Is there a desk anywhere I could use?"

"No one's using that one." Hank points to the desk opposite him, while still sulking like a child.

"Gasp, it speaks," I said in a sarcastic tone while turning to Hank.

"Fuck off. I've already got an android on my ass, I don't need you on it too."

I grabbed a terminal pad before perching myself back at the edge of Hank's desk while Connor got comfortable at the empty one. The light at the side of his head flashing yellow for a moment like he was hesitant to speak."You have a dog, right?"

"How do you know that?"

"The dog hairs on your chair. I like dogs. What's your dog's name?"

"What's it to you?" Hank shifted in his seat, "...Sumo... I call him Sumo."

"Under all those shitty shirts and questionable stains there's a warm, beating heart," I say more to myself than the other two, skimming over the recent case files sent in by Fowler.

"Officer (L/N)... (Y/N), knowing that we'd be working together I read your academy and field records. You have quite an interesting background."

"Oh yeah, then you understand that I may be a little driven to get these cases over with. I can't say I'm a fan of you terminators."

"I understand you have a... warped view of androids due to what you've experienced, but I hope you understand that I am your partner and not your enemy."

"Connor, you're not my partner, you're cyberlife's latest gizmo for us kick around." I sigh, turning to sit at my desk adjacent to hanks, taking the terminal pad with me. "Just look through the deviant case files. Terminals on your desk, knock yourself out."

They're nothing but machines. They are not your friends.

"Two-hundred and forty-three files, the first date back nine months. It all started in Detroit... And quickly spread across the country." Connor had only connected the terminal moments before.

"Don't work your CPU too hard," I mutter under my breath, catching a quick huff of amusement from Hank.

"An AX400 is reported to have murdered a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation." Hank was doing his best to pretend Connor didn't exist, but the android was persistent. Connor stood from his chair and made his way into Hank's personal space.

"Uh, Jesus..." Hank turned his chair away.

"I understand you're facing personal issues, Lieutenant, but you need to move past them and-" For an android, Connor has some balls on him.

"Hey! Don't talk to me like you know me. I'm not your friend and I don't need your advice, okay?" Hank's mood had soured like milk, it wouldn't be long until Fowler was adding another page to Hank's disciplinary folder.

"I've been assigned this mission Lieutenant, I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working."

"Connor, you're just gonna-" I had wasted my breath, Hank had already stood and was grabbing onto Connor by the collar of his Cyberlife jacket and slamming against the screen next to his desk. "Hank!"

"Listen asshole. If it were up to me, I'd rather throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off... or things are gonna get nasty."

"Hank," I placed a hand on his shoulder to try and lightly pull him away from Connor but only earned a nasty side-eye. "Leave off him, you don't get paid enough to replace him."

"Lieutenant... Officer (L/N), uh... sorry to disturb you," Looks like the tin can was saved before Hank could knock the light out of him, "I have some information on the AX400 that killed that guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district."

"I'm on it." Hank didn't glance back when he dropped Connor's collar. The puppy dog look on his face almost made me feel bad for him... almost.

"Come on, WALL-E. Don't want to keep the old man waiting."

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #dbh fanfic #dbh x reader #dbh x male reader #connor x male reader #connor rk800 #male reader #m! reader #connor x m!reader

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bastillewolf · 4 years ago

Note

Hello idk if the requests are still going but if not then its okay ignore this and if they are please don't over work yourself and you don't need to do my request if you don't want to just stay healthy and eat well and drink lots of water we all live your work (and are simps for corpse-)

The ask : could I ask for a corpse husband x reader where they used to get shipped together before they even meet each other and when they meet each other corpse goes soft for reader and they play two rounds In among us together where they are imposters together and corpse is an imposter alone in the other round

Reader info : reader has a very soft voice and is a softie and the pronounce is she/her or they/them ( as you wish)

Again you don't gotta do it if you don't want to

Thanks so much for the ask, An. I was feeling like shit and this was a lot of fun to write. I’m sorry though, I completely read over the part where the reader was supposed to have a soft voice. I’ll see if I can make another one with this specification sometime. Also, I wrote this rather quickly because I’m watching Twilight for the first time and now my feelings are hurt.

#CorpseBride - Oneshot

Pairings: Corpse / Reader

Twitter wasn’t really your forte, but you knew how to get around. It’s just that you never really had the time to check it, let alone to see what’s on the trending page every single day. At the very least, you were capable of replying to your friends’ stuff and letting your viewers know when you were streaming or when a new video would be up. Again, you weren’t a pro, but you got by.

Until you didn’t.

“Hey, everyone,” you greeted, and immediately went to change your Among Us figure to its usual colour and outfit before someone else took it.

Everyone welcomed you, while it seemed Toast was still busy trying to get a last person to join.

“Whaddup, baby,” Corpse’s shot out from the rest of them. It was pure teasing, something he’d grown quite comfortable with ever since people had blatantly started simping for his voice. “Nothing much, honey. How’ve you been?” You cheekily replied. “Pretty good. Streaming still makes me nervous, though.” “You greeted me with ‘Whaddup, baby’ and then proceed to tell me you’re nervous? Don’t get upset when I say that I don’t believe you.” He chuckled at that.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

“Ha!” you called out, “I doubt this will soothe your nerves, Corpse. You’re teamed up with me now.” You sneaked in a glance at chat. “We are not an old married couple! If anything, he can be my bitch for this round. I’m just not gonna murder anyone.”

And that’s basically how it went. He managed to kill three people and still wasn’t being sussed. “Alright, I think I’ve tortured him enough,” you laughed, “I’ll even spare Sykkuno for the man.”

You managed to corner Toast and killed him in a corner where the water wheels were, before heading out into admin. You vented until you found Corpse in Labs and jumped out. It was right when Sykkuno walked in.

“Oh, god no. Please, Sykkuno.”

Your kill count still wasn’t down yet and he was obviously planning to run straight out the door to hit the emergency button, but he was stopped. Corpse had murdered him in an instant.

Your mouth was hanging open. “Did… Did he just kill Sykkuno for me?” Chat was going absolutely wild. “What the fuck just happened?” You decided to report the body anyway.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Corpse growled, “Not my best friend, Sykkuno.”

You had to mute yourself to keep the laughter at bay. Corpse evidently vouched for you, saying you’d walked in on the body together. Felix was sussed and voted out.

“Corpse, you killed me!” Sykkuno cried out.

“I’m so sorry, Sykkuno! I wanted to spare you but you walked in at the wrong time!” You pleaded.

“Sacrifices had to be made,” Corpse merely responded.

“Wait, what happened?” Sean asked.

“I walked in on one of them venting and then Corpse killed me!”

“Collateral damage. You watched me get killed one time, too.”

“Blame me, Sykkuno. It was my fault,” but you were laughing as you said it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard such regret coming from an imposter,” Sean laughed along, “Also, why the fuck were you two being so slow? Three meetings in and you’d only killed three people.”

“Corpse was simping for me,” you replied.

“I was not.”

“Yes, you were. Otherwise you would’ve asked me what the hell I’d been doing that entire time.”

“Fuck off,” he laughed.

“Corpse is an UWU-boy!”

“Oh my god, you guys are already trending.”

“Wait, what?”

Your phone was being blasted off to space, getting tons of messages with the hashtag #CorpseBride. It was number 1 trending on Twitter.

“So… whaddup, baby?”

“Oh no, you better buy me a drink first.”

“Sure.”

You hadn’t thought he’d been serious in that moment, until he’d asked you to meet up after the game had ended. You hesitantly agreed, but reminded him that he absolutely did not have to participate in this just for the meme. “I’m not doing this for the meme,” he’d said, “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while, I just never knew how. It seemed like the perfect timing.”

You met him at his apartment, knowing how he was about going out in public, and feeling extremely nervous. You’d brought takeout, and because you hadn’t been sure what he wanted you’d ordered way too much. Upon opening the door, he looked at you, down at the bag, and said, “Shit, you got food?” Not really knowing what else to say, you simply replied, “Uh, yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have lots of leftovers, then.”

He smiled, gave you a hug that ended way too fast and left you paralyzed for a minute, and then invited you in. It turned out he’d already ordered food, too. “Plenty to choose from,” he laughed awkwardly. “Uh… You got any neighbours who might want some?” you asked.

“I-I don’t really talk to anyone outside of my friend group.”

“Oh, of course. I could go around, if you’d like.”

“You’d do that for me?”

You furrowed your brows. “Of course I would. Why not?”

“Alright, but let me at least come with you. You just do the talking.”

Three knocks at three different doors later, and someone accepted the offer and took over some of the food. “Hang on a minute,” the elderly man said, clad in only his pyjamas and a bathrobe, managing to make the situation even more uncomfortable, “Aren’t you my neighbour? You always scurry off before I get the chance to talk to you!”

You looked at Corpse, and he back at you, and you turned back to the elderly man. “He, uh… He’s very people shy. He has anxiety. I’m trying to help him cope. Also, his vocal chords are damaged.” Nothing you’d said so far had been a lie, technically, but the man still remained sceptical. “Then why didn’t you just leave a note or something?”

“Uh…” you jumped at the small voice appearing from behind you. It’s just that his ‘small voice’ is still nothing close to small. “I know, I’m terribly sorry, sir. I also just wanted to let you know that if you ever need anything, I’m just a few doors away.”

This seemed to please the man enough.

“I can’t believe you made me do that.”

“I made you?!” You gasped, “I didn’t make you do anything, you filthy liar! You’re just as bad in real life as in Among Us, when you’re the impostor and I’m the innocent crewmate.”

“No comment.”

“I didn’t even ask you a question.”

“No comment.”

“Deadass?”

“Deadass.”

You both laughed. Corpse hesitated for just a moment, but decided to ask anyway, “Were you nervous when I opened the door?”

You chuckled awkwardly, admitting, “Yeah, I was. I always get anxious meeting people. Well, we’d met before, of course. But just, you know, in real life.”

“I get it.”

You stood there in silence for a moment, until you noticed the rest of the takeout in your hands was getting cold. “Come on, wife,” he joked, linking his pinkie finger with yours, “Let me get you that drink.”

If he hadn’t dragged you along then and there, you could’ve sworn your knees would’ve given out.

TAG LIST CLOSED

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People I wasn’t able to tag (please check your settings lovelies):

@holosexualunicorn7000 @theroyalsaikou @timotheessoleil @devilish-ducky @000-22-000 @matcha-chaii @corbins-kinda-smart @milybones @theinbookss @mintchip17 @arghm8ty @alyss01 @ry-winter @sbfandom @anacrcarvalho @petitebitvh @corbins-kinda-smart @marmeladebreadwithhoney @solielfhuz6942 @xsarcasm101x @siriuslystupid @bakugonua @n0t-a-simp @emmapotato88 @notmewrongb1tch @c00ln3rdz @rolls-and-rolex

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #pewdiepie #jacksepticeye #among us #youtube fanfiction

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stilldani24 · 4 years ago

Text

Pain, but like, It’s Tolerable

corpse husband x platonic!reader oneshot

words: 1089

request: “corpse x reader where she’s a streamer but she’s very private about her personal life and she randomly goes awol for a week before coming back and steaming among us. during the game the others notice that she’s unusually quiet and she lets it slip that she had surgery and is kind of in pain and that’s why she isn’t talking much and everyone is concerned, specially corpse and then he texts her/facetimes her after they both stop streaming to make sure she’s alright and to scold her (like playfully) for not letting him know about the surgery” from anonymous

Your doctor told you to rest for a while, not to work out, and not do anything too strenuous. You knew exactly what to do during your recovery period, and that was play Among Us until you literally dropped from exhaustion.

Okay, not really. But pretty close.

You were actually kind of nervous to go back to playing, especially since you had been pretty much AWOL for the entire week. You had suffered from a few health conditions throughout your life, and had numerous surgeries to fix them, or at least attempt to. Whenever you had one surgery, another one followed three or so years later. And after years of trying to get your kidneys to work with you, you had eventually gone into kidney failure and began dialysis while still trying to be a streamer and maintain your friendships with those you met online. It was hard, balancing everything while also being an adult who had to pay rent and shit, but you managed. All you had to do was pray that someone in your life was a match for you so you didn’t have to wait potentially years on the waitlist.

Your sister was tested and came back as a match, and graciously donated her kidney so you could stop needing dialysis and have a long, happy life. You two now only had one kidney each. Kidney buddies. You should remember to make a shirt like that for Christmas to give to her.

But the second day back from the hospital, you made your way slowly to your game room. You had an ice pack to your incision, wrapped in a towel of course, and slowly sat down in your chair with a soft grunt. After situating your pillows so you wouldn’t be in too much pain, you messaged your Discord group you were in with Corpse, Sean, Felix, and a few others that you were down to play. They immediately sent the game code and you hopped into the game, followed by joining the call. The lobby consisted of Sean, Felix, Corpse, Dave, PJ, Nogla, and yourself. Sean, Felix, and Nogla were streaming whereas the other four of you would just be vibing along with them. You would get back to your regularly scheduled streams when you healed a bit more, so you could be your normal loud and animated self while not worrying your viewers too much.

“Y/N!” Sean greeted you enthusiastically, making you smile as your little purple avatar ran around the lobby of the game. “Where the hell have you been, we’ve been worried sick!”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Corpse added, and you sensed a little smile behind his voice, but also genuine worry. “Where were you, yeah.”

“Oh, just had some personal business to take care of, don’t worry about me,” you responded casually, adjusting yourself a bit. It caused a little twang of pain, causing you to hiss quietly. “So, uh, what are we playing today?”

“We’re gonna play hide and seek, you down?” Felix asked.

“Oh, so down. Let’s go, boys,” you replied back with a grin.

As you played a few rounds of hide and seek, followed by a few rounds of the school game telephone, and finally you guys put the lobby in 3x speed and raced around the map. The boys were all loud as hell as normal, and the race was hella fun, but if you laughed too hard, it hurt like a son of a bitch. Corpse had noticed after a while of your near silence, but didn’t say anything until his worry got the best of him.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you sure you’re okay, you seem really out of it today,” he mentioned in the lobby between games.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Alright, fine, I’ll spill. I didn’t wanna say anything while a few of you were streaming, but it’s alright. I got surgery a week ago. I had a kidney transplant after my kidneys failed, so yeah. I’m in pain right now, but it’s tolerable so I wanted to play with you guys. Kinda take my mind off of it.”

The boys were kinda silent after that.

“No cap?” Corpse finally asked, making you laugh. While you were both Gen Z, the lingo sometimes got you when he used it in front of people who definitely were not Gen Z.

“No cap, Corpse,” you replied, a smile still on your face. “Deadass though, I’m doing alright. I missed playing after not being able to for a week of being in the hospital so let’s get back to it, shall we?”

After a weird game of trivia, where Dave gave PJ the easiest question ever and the rest of you questions you couldn’t even think of answering, the lot of you stopped playing and exited the call to go about the rest of your days. Not even two minutes later though, as you were trying to get the strength to stand up, your phone began ringing with the familiar tone for FaceTime. You slumped back down into your chair before picking up your phone.

“Hey, Corpse, what’s up? Miss me already?” you teased as you sat back in your chair, grunting a little bit from the movement. You were definitely not FaceTime ready, with dirty hair and sleep deprived eyes, but you were always down to talk to your best friend. You didn’t give a fuck what you looked like to him. Corpse had his camera off.

“Damn, you look like shit,” he laughed, making you do as well. It was just the kind of friendship you had. “But what the fuck, dude? You were MIA for a week just to come back to say that you had a kidney transplant? The fuck?”

“I’m sorry!” You laughed, holding your arms up slightly in defense. “I didn’t wanna worry you. You already got shit going on in your life, you don’t need my problems tacked on as well.”

Corpse audibly huffed, and you could tell he was just rolling eyes. Playfully, of course. “Hell, if you needed a kidney, you could have fucking asked. I don’t know if I’d even be a match but I’d be willing to get tested.”

“Awe, Corpsie,” you teased playfully. “Genuine friendship? In this economy? Unheard of. But thank you, that actually means a lot. Where were you when I was on dialysis though, huh?”

“Well if you would have fucking told me--”

“Whoops, look at the time! Gotta go!”

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband x you #corpse x reader #corpse x you #corpse x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #request #corpse simp

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oitommothetease · 3 years ago

Text

Invisible String (13/15)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2.2k words

Warning : angst, violence, sad reader, sad Bucky, shitty Rumlow, maybe Steve isn’t that bad, the doughnuts are back from chapter 11, did I mention angst?, angst, more angst

Everything was dark, you noticed. When you slowly returned to consciousness, you half expected to be in your bed with Bucky tangled beside you, just like in your dreams. He fit so perfectly in your bed — your life and you, as if he was a part of you, and you weren't sure where he ended and where you began.

But when you moved to stretch your aching limbs, they moved a few inches before halting by some sort of restriction. Instantly, the bubble of your dreams burst, and everything came to your mind, and you abruptly looked around to find him. Bucky was still unconscious — tied to a chair, but instead of rope like yours, he was tied down with manacles. He had restraints on his wrists and ankles. You were sort of offended that they didn’t think you were strong enough to be captured like him. Not that you wanted those manacles anywhere near your body, but you preferred not to be treated as if you were meek.

What could be worse than getting kidnapped? It's definitely getting rekidnapped with the person who came to rescue you. Clint lied, he was working with Rumlow. His source was nothing but an ambush for Bucky. There were more than 4 of Rumlow’s men in the warehouse. Clint lied so that Bucky would come under prepared and he fell right into the trap.

Earlier, it was just you in a room alone, but now it was you and Bucky in a dingy cell-like room with a closed door. He was still knocked out when the man known as Rumlow walked in. You recalled him from the time he came to the club, and you wanted nothing more than to run towards the safe embrace of your lover.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Rumlow’s steps halted when he was near your tied form. His hand came for your cheek and naturally, you recoiled away. Your rejection didn’t deter him, it only fueled his fury more as he held your chin tightly in his other hand and made you look at him. You attempted to get out of his grasp, which only angered him more, and he struck his hand to your face. It ached so much and it was so loud that it jolted Bucky up.

“Will you look at that,” Rumlow mocked, pushing your face away from his hold. “Lover boy can feel her pain.”

It took a second for Bucky to drink in the sight and commemorate everything. Once everything came back to him, he looked at you deplorably, his eyes filled with concern and guilt as he saw the blood dripping down your face.

“Get away from her, Rumlow!” Bucky seethed when his gaze was back at the man who hurt you. Despite the warning, Rumlow moved more towards you. One hand running his knuckles on your face in an attempt to be soothing, while the other held your chin in a painful grip.

“Why do you get to keep such a pretty thing all to yourself?” Rumlow asked rhetorically. “I should get a taste too.”

Before Bucky could try to do something, a knock on the door attracted everyone’s attention. Clint came in with a look of victory on his face.

“You betraying son of a bitch,” you hissed. Unlike Bucky, you didn’t have much self-restraint or any wise escape plan cooking in your head. “Why the fuck did you do it?”

“You’re new, sweetheart,” Clint pointed out, his tone condescending. “You don't know how it works.”

“What I know is that your wife is friends with Wanda's girlfriend,” you retorted back immediately. You were tired of being seen as weak. ”How will she feel when she finds out that you betrayed Bucky?”

A look of uncertainty came over Clint's face and you continued, “I might be new, sweetheart, but I’m not dumb.”

When Clint was astounded, Rumlow spoke up,” Ah, the power of pillow talk. You are one feisty little bitch. What else did he tell you? Did he tell you that his work is not illegal and he sells weapons to the government?”

You looked at Bucky, hoping that the man you knew and loved was nothing like this monster who assaulted you. Rumlow continued, “Barnes, Rogers and I started this whole a business together. They enjoyed the money that was brought in with our illegal escapade. He enjoyed girls like you every day. Until one day, the childhood buddies decided it was time to go clean. And they just left us in pursuit of some dream life.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just looked over at Bucky who was staring at the floor as if waiting for it to open and swallow him whole. Was he ashamed of his past? Did he think that his past would make you love him any less? If he did, then he was highly mistaken because now you didn't see James as your arrogant boss. Now you saw a young boy who made some questionable choices and, to make a better life for himself and his family, he changed his direction. Now you saw a reckless boy who did stupid shit in his past like everyone in the world and instead of letting it define him, he made a better life for himself. Now you saw a hardworking boy who worked his ass off to build an empire for himself and his loved ones. All of these versions of him existed before you, but you only saw one — the one that mattered to you at least, you just saw the love of your life, your Bucky.

The universe might have listened to your pleas because Rumlow’s phone rang and both he and Clint exited the room. You didn’t know how to start a conversation with Bucky. He didn't want to, that you were sure of. What were you supposed to say? That his hardship and past made him look hotter in your eyes? You wanted to avoid romanticizing his struggles, so you resorted to the only thing you do when you are tense.

“This is not the lunch date I had in mind,” you teased, forcefully huffing to make the situation seem less intense. When Bucky did not respond or even looked at you, you retorted to another antic. “I remember that song name, you know — Invisible String. Taylor Swift, of course. It would make an excellent bakery name. We can -”

“We can what?” Bucky finally snapped, “You want me to fire my friends and convert the most profitable club into a fucking bakery, huh?”

“Is that what you want? A life with a man who got you involved in this shit?” you flinched at his harsh words. You knew this wasn’t your Bucky — your Bucky was all about sweet touches, teasing words and passionate kisses. No, this was the Bucky that Rumlow recognized.

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, your tone gentle. “I’m sorry you're stuck here because of me, but -”

He cut you off. “Doll,” he exhaled, his voice devoid of all the venom present a moment ago, It was filled with the adoration towards you that you were used to; Nonetheless, it still made you feel dizzy all the time. His face softened before saying, “This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I got you into this mess. I should have stayed away from you.”

You opened your mouth to object. You wanted to tell him that he was being stupid — that you would get through this together, but he sustained.

“I will stay away from you,” he pondered, his eyes avoiding yours again.

No, you wouldn't let that happen. You finally had him, and you wouldn't let Rumlow get into Bucky's head. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

“There is nothing to talk about,” he concluded, “When we are out of here. I will maintain my distance.”

You tried to ask him to stop saying that, but he kept ignoring your words and looked at the wall behind you for almost an hour. When it got to your nerves, and you were starting to get pissed he started whistling a song you weren’t quite familiar with. “Seriously? How old are you? Five?”

He didn’t respond. “So what? You're just gonna ignore me while we’re tied here?”

“Hey, let's play a game,” you tried again.

Before you could lose all your patience and start yelling at him, you heard grunting sounds from behind the door. You shuddered, swallowing the lump in your throat. You didn’t want to see Rumlow again, in fact, you never wanted to see Rumlow.

Sensing your discomfort made Bucky finally speak up. “Y/N, look at me,” his voice sweet as ever, as if he hadn't been ignoring you for the past hour. You looked at him, and he held your gaze, assuring you, “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak anything. Both of you held your breath, waiting for someone to walk in and hurt you more, but it never came. All that came was a blond man with a gun in his hand, whom you recognized instantly — Steve. You didn't like that man one bit because he clearly disliked you, but at that moment, he was your angel who came to your rescue.

Immediately, Steve ran towards his pal who nodded his head towards you, indicating his friend to let you out of the restraint first. Again, he had manacles around his wrists and limbs, and he wanted you to be free of the rope that was around you. Steve took his friend’s request and freed you of your restriction before doing the same for Bucky.

When you stood up, the world stood up with you, and you realized that you hadn’t eaten anything in more than 24 hours. You almost collapsed on the floor when two strong hands came to your relief and held you. You didn’t need to keep your eyes open to see who it was. Likewise, you knew it was Bucky — you could recognize his touch anywhere, and just liked that you passed out.

The next time you gained awareness, you were moving swiftly. It took you a few seconds to acknowledge that you were in a car. You craned your neck upward to find your head situated on a hard and firm chest, Bucky looked down at you and engulfed you tighter to his side, your legs resting on his lap while his free hand was settled on the back of your thigh, holding you closer to him.

“Doll,” his voice was barely audible, and you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't so close to him or if he didn't whisper it in your ear. “You gotta eat something.”

Tiredly, you nodded and Bucky nudged you softly, encouraging you to straighten up a little before eating something. You straightened your back and somebody passed a box from the passenger seat. Steve, you recognized him and the person in the driver's seat — Sam. Both of them looked at you sympathetically, and you smiled at them, or at least tried to. You were so exhausted.

Bucky opened the box and took out a doughnut, which you brought for him that morning, or was it the previous morning? How long had it been since you were kidnapped?

Two doughnuts and one bottle of water later, you were back at your apartment. Bucky’s hand rested on the small of your back as Steve and Sam followed both of you. You hesitated before unlocking the door, and Bucky ran his hand on your back reassuringly as he ensured you, “I’ve got you, doll.”

Bucky said something to Sam and Steve, but you were too exhausted to listen. Once they were gone, Bucky strode towards you, cupping your face in his hands as he scanned your face for all the wounds. “How about you clean up, and I’ll get the first aid kit. Okay, doll?”

Just like the whole night or day or whatever time it was, you didn't remember most of the bath. You remembered going into the shower — you remembered water running down your body — you remembered seeing red water (probably from your bruises) seeping in the drain — you remembered seeing someone in the mirror you didn't recognize — you remembered falling to the floor and crying and most importantly you remembered calling for Bucky.

As if standing outside the door, Bucky was crouched over you instantly . He wrapped a towel around your naked form and held you on the bathroom floor while you cried and finally acknowledged the trauma that you had encountered.

Bucky held you as you continued to cry in muffled sobs against his chest. When you fell asleep, he placed you and tucked you in your bed comfortably before getting in himself. You wrapped your arms around him in your sleep and held him like the anchor he was to you. Bucky pressed a kiss in your hair and whispered his love and apologies to you for pulling you into his messed up life. You couldn't fathom a word he confessed before sleep finally engulfed you.

TAGS : @bananapipedreams @akkinda10 @rivers-rambles21 @emmabarnes @valsworldofcreativity @boofy1998 @marvel-3407 @mybuck @priii @coffeebooksandfandom @ladydmalfoy @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @sabrinathesimp

A/N - Hey, I finally made a Taglist .This was a very intense (please don’t hate me) I love you bye. Take care!

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic

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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years ago

Text

—“get your son/daughter”

𝕙𝕠𝕥 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤: 𝕚𝕟 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕡𝕥. 𝟚 | 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖’𝕤 𝕡𝕥.𝟙 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜-𝕗𝕖𝕞!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Midoriya Izuku:

despite having two of the sweetest parents on earth, your son had a mouth on him

you didn’t know if it was bc he hung around his sailor mouth pomeranian looking uncle a lot or if it was the three inch growth spurt that got him feeling all big and bad

but you and your husband caught him illegally using his quirk outside of school and freaked

and apparently, your kid had gotten comfortable enough to say, “you guys are being so stupid about this”

that was how izuku ended up holding you back as you tried to look over his shoulders and let your son know what was on your mind

“YOUR SON JUST CALLED ME STUPID AND YOU’RE JUST GONNA LET HIM GET AWAY WITH THAT!?”

“no of course not, honey! i just think you should calm down a little—”

“SO YOU SIDING WITH THE ENEMY??!!”

there was no use getting to you and so izuku pleaded, “S/N, apologize to your mother! now! please!!”

fed up, the boy goes, “urgh!! you guys don’t get it! how am i supposed to learn about being hero when all dad does is go on and on about all might? all might wasnt even that cool!”

izuku dramatically gasped and whipped his head around to stare at his son with shock

you even paused to let out a small gasp of your own

it was silent for a hot minute

then the young boy realized his mistake when his usually kind father narrowed his eyes in betrayl

“w-wait, i didnt mean that—“

midoriya released you and simply stepped to the side

your son started shivering when he watched an evil smirk grow on your face

“dad hold on—!”

“I’m going to go watch videos of my favorite uncool super hero” izuku huffed before leaving the room

you slowly stalked towards your son

“so what was that you said about me being stupid?”

it was at that point that he knew he shouldve kept his big mouth shut

Kirishima Eijirou:

in kirishima’s eyes, his daughter could do no wrong

ofc she had her moments, but overall, she was a bright, sunny, and happy kid that was too good and pure for this world

that’s why he always tried to ease down any punishments you gave her

but when she acted like this, kirishima knew it was either let you do what you needed to do, or stand in your way and get taken down with her

bc even a 6′0+ man with 200lb+ of muscle like him could whither away from your glare

you didn’t get angry often, but when you did, shit was terrifying asf

so when you asked your daughter to hand over your phone and she smacked her teeth and threw it on the counter...

it was game over

everyone in the room silently watched the phone clank around until it stopped

the room went quiet save for the ticking clock

your daughter’s eyes widened as she realized her mistake

your head turned to your husband and kirishima felt sweat start to pool at his temple

you stared at him for a minute before calmly speaking

“you have three seconds to get your daughter before i do bc i swear i will—”

that was all, eijirou needed to hear

“D/N, go to your room. you’re grounded for two weeks”

“yes, sir. also i’m sorry mom!” she quickly yelped before running upstairs

once she was gone, you let out a frustrated breath as he went up to you, attempting to quell your anger

you turned around to continue flipping through the TV and smacked your teeth before throwing the remote on the couch, too upset to find your fav channel

“I dont know where the hell she gets that attitude from, my goodness” you ranted

kirishima looked away in hoplessness as he rubbed your shoulders

“yeah, no idea...” he chuckled

Sero Hanta:

this was 100% inspired by that kevin hart tiktok audio

sero came home from a long day of hero work

he was mainly on patrol but they had him swinging around every which way to cover an absent hero

he was annoyed and his elbows were sore

all he wanted to do was stuff his face w some food, kiss his children goodnight, and curl up next to you until he was in dreamland

but you had different plans

the poor man didn’t even get a chance to take off his shoes before you bascially materialized in front of him looking like a bull ready to storm right through him

“hanta. i’ve had it up to HERE with that little boy! you better get em’!”

sero looks like a deer in head lights

“huh?”

“you just gonna him get away with talking to us like that?!”

“talk to us like what? nobody talked to me like anything!”

“all i know is, you better go in there and teach that boy a lesson!”

sero is literally on the verge of tears

“babe, what’s going on—”

before he could say anything more, you shoved the famous “beat-that-ass” slipper in his hand and left him fuming over whatever it was that made you angry

hanta is speechless and can do nothing but stare after you until his oldest daughter walks by

she munches on a tangerine slice in her hand and gives him an empathetic pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the hallway

he sighs

he couldn’t get one day of peace huh?

sero catiously opens the door to his son’s room who is unsuspectingly playing his video game

the boy raises a brow. “oh hey papa. whats up?”

sero prays he forgives him

“listen son. i dont know why, but your mama told me i gotta beat your ass so imma do it before i get my ass beat”

minutes later your son comes ito you crying and rubbing his behind to apologize to you for slamming the door in your face and telling you to shut up

sero can’t say he didn’t deserve it, but that was the most guilty ass whopping he ever gave

~~~

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#bnha #mha headcanons #izuku midoriya #midoriya x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #sero hanta #sero x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x black!reader #mha x poc!reader #mha x black reader #bnha x poc!reader #that kevin hart audio fucks me up every time LMAOOO #cheers <3

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dashielldeveron · 4 years ago

Text

and i’ve gotta crow | takami keigo

hawks x pro-hero! reader. quirk unspecified.

summary: “You’re suffering from amnesia,” says Hawks to you, in your hospital bed.

No, you are not.

“We’re engaged to be married.”

No, you are not.

After an accident that was that bastard Hawks’s fault, you decide to play along with your diagnosis of amnesia, among other things, because how far can you make your former bully bend over backwards for you?

fluff/trickery??? completely avoidable angst, bc reader is a little shit. hawks is a scumbag bully at first. reader is honestly kind of violent. dealing with acne in a scene.

When the first things you saw after groggily blinking your eyes open were multiple IVs in the back of your hand, you flipped over and snuggled farther into your hospital bed to deal with it later, but against your will you were forced to lie flat on your back to stare into the hospital fluorescents.

When the nurse fiddling with your IVs came into focus, he said, “You need to lie on your back. You have deep gashes on your lower abdomen, and tossing about too much could open the stitches.”

That sounded like bullshit, but you were too out of it to care. “Yeah, okay,” you said through a croak, “Oh, fuck.” You wrestled a hand to your throat, massaging it. “Am I waking up from a coma? Don’t let anyone see me until I’ve done my eyebrows.”

The nurse laughed through his nose. “No, don’t worry. You’ve barely been—” He cut himself off and frowned. “The news should probably be broken to you when you have emotional support. I’ll be back soon.”

He left.

Emotional support? Wouldn’t that fucking gash on your stomach be—ooh, ouch, don’t move.

Where’s your phone? Where’s your goddamn phone; where’s any of your personal belongings? If they got crushed, you’re killing Hawks on sight.

Hawks, oh, my God. Where is he? He’s dead. If he still has the audacity to bully you professionally—fuck.

He’d cornered you on patrol earlier—whenever that was—and cut into you in that casually, negging-type way that wasn’t enough to report but enough to make you stay up late and freak out about being good enough. It hurt your chest whenever you thought about it.

But this was the first time he’d gotten seriously physical.

He’d alit on the top of the warehouse next to you, landing what would have been haphazardly for anyone else (the arch of his feet against the edge, his toes barely touching roof) and had crouched next to you, his scarlet wings completely blowing your cover as they stretched and shuddered.

“What’s a little girl like you doing in this part of town?” Hawks had propped his chin on both his fists. “Thought shoplifters were more your calibre.”

“Hawks, this is actually really important to me, so please, please leave,” you’d said, keeping your eyes on the group you could barely make out through the skylight. They’d already been partially concealed by crates, so they were hard to see.

“Someone else give you a tip for their location?” He’d tapped your opposite shoulder with the end of his wing, but you hadn’t even flinched.

“Bruh, you know I’ve been on this for weeks,” you’d said, shifting away from him, “I even shared intel at your last briefing.”

“Is that what you were talking about?” Hawks had scratched his chin. “I zoned out. Usually the little cases female heroes present aren’t in my circle, and I like to unwind when brain power isn’t needed.”

You’d planned to rip his wings out feather by feather while you’d gritted your teeth. “You can’t talk to me like that, Hawks.”

He’d laughed, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “C’mon, babygirl, have a slice of chill, won’t you? I thought you were one of the cool girls. Relax. I don’t mean anything by it.”

“Leave me alone, Hawks. You’re not gonna bully me into joining your agency. You’re not gonna bully me into quitting being a hero,” you’d said, inwardly screaming, “I’d tell you to go talk to someone who’d fall for your shit, but then, she’d have to suffer, too. So, fuck off into a sewer, jackass.”

“Oof,” Hawks had said, placing a hand over his heart and shaking his head, “You don’t have to be such a bitch, sweetheart. I’m only looking for my better half. Didn’t think it could be you, but I’d thought I’d give you a chance to prove me wrong. Don’t take yourself too seriously; just be along for the ride like the rest of us.”

“Huh,” you had said, and you’d stood and strode to the edge of the warehouse to your harness and rope, and you rappelled down the side of it as stealthily as you came up.

“I’ve been watching you all these years, sweetness, and I know you by now; I know how you really feel,” Hawks had said a bit too loudly while he flew downwards at your speed (braggart). “Strip away all of your busy work, your so-called hero trappings, and we’d mesh together just fine. We may be rough around the edges, but we clean up really nicely, don’t we?”

You’d unclipped your carabiner and stepped out of your harness, stashing it in your pack. “Fuck off.”

You’d moved towards the back entrance, but Hawks had slammed a hand against the concrete wall in front of you. You’d ducked under it and carried on, and he’d grabbed the back of your shirt.

“C’mon, if we didn’t know each other, and our eyes met from across the room at some hero gala, you’d be all over me, wouldn’t you?”

You had swiped his hand away. “I’d be putting a lid on my drink.”

His arms behind his back, Hawks had followed you through the door and behind the exposed pipes and closer to your targets. “Saw you coming onto Todoroki at the last one. You looked fine in his colours, but you would’ve looked better in mine.”

Don’t grace him with an answer; don’t grace him with an ans— “I wasn’t coming onto Shoto,” you’d said, pulling yourself up a couple of pipes for a better view—and you’d hit him when he flapped his wings to hover the few feet you’d ascended, because the noise might alert them.

“Yeah, you just simp for him, right? Then you didn’t step outside your comfortable ice queen act?” Hawks had gripped onto a pipe just underneath your ass. “You’re too much of a natural tease for that.”

How can you report him when he’s the head of his own agency? You guess the commission might listen, but what can they do besides slap his wrist? There’s really no one who can stop him, is there?

You hadn’t replied but instead crawled onto the iron catwalk. If you could position yourself about three-quarters of the way across, you’d be able to effectively activate your quirk and get this over with—wait, why would you think like that? You’d been waiting for this for ages.

A hand spreading across the small of your back had reminded you.

You’d flipped over with fire in your eyes and kicked him away as quietly as you could, but all he’d done was sit back on his knees to grin down at you, army-crawling your way through a dirty warehouse.

Would he take credit for your work again?

You’d shaken yourself. Eat my entire ass, Hawks. And with that, you’d continued inching towards your targets. When you’d gotten into position to watch them, Hawks had merely watched you.

You had scowled. “I’m gonna tear you a—”

“You had a hard childhood, didn’t you?”

A chill had unfurled up your spine, simple as that. Hawks now not only had the annoying air of an arrogant pick-up artist but also gave you an intense sense of danger. You’d moved away from him, regrettably away from your target, but Hawks had followed you, getting closer until his body heat had seeped into yours, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his dumb face.

“I could take suuuuch good care of you, little girl,” he’d said under his breath, “if only you’d let me. No one else is crazy enough to call me out or want more than the bare minimum.” His wings had folded in on his back, making themselves as small as possible to get closer to you. “If you give in, tell me yes, say please, you wouldn’t have to let any worries cross your pretty little mind. All you have to do is let me in.”

“Yikes,” you had said, sucking in through your teeth, “God, you’re a creep.”

Hawks had slammed you down onto the catwalk, iron reverberating through the warehouse as it struck your head, and your targets had looked up by the time the catwalk hinges had loosened and had come crashing down in the midst of their meeting.

You’re really not supposed to shoot guns inside. Don’t they know that’ll ruin their ears? No matter, really. You had fought them anyway, amidst crates splintering open from whatever they were shooting at you—fuck, that was a big hole. What’s oozing out of that? Gross, don’t step in it.

One with a normal revolver—his arm had given a woody crack when you’d bent it backwards—God, that was nice. Good sounds. If you could sample them into a rap track, you would.

You’d been planning a collab with a popular rapper while you’d hurled yourself at another villain, sawdust flying—just to keep your mind busy, really, but fucking—fucking Hawks had bested whoever he’d half-assed to the ground and had shouted your way.

“C’mere, you little shit—”

He’d scooped you up while you’d been taking care of it by yourself, and he had pinned you down behind a stack of crates that reached the remains of the catwalk, straddling you but keeping most of his weight off, his wings outstretched yet still hidden from the cloud of sawdust rising with deep gurgling on the far side.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he’d said over the chaos, spit flying, “You can’t handle this; you’re gonna get fucking killed. I can’t babysit you all the time.”

“Get fucked; I’m the number fourteen hero,” you’d said, deadly still, but twitching in fury, “I can handle anyth—”

“Aww, fourteen. And one day babygirl might reach the single digits.” Hawks had sneered in your face. “If she manages to fuck her way through them.”

Your jaw had dropped, and you pretended to cough on sawdust and kicked him off in the confusion. Hawks had grabbed a hold of your calf, grappling for your thigh, while you’d scrambled to climb over crates to the gurgling mess on the other side; you could handle it, and you would.

You’d slapped his hands away, wrestled out of his grasp again and again, and you’d launched yourself into the dust—

Yeah.

While the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, you picked at a hangnail. You hadn’t braced yourself for the explosion, so, you guessed you deserved whatever was wrong with you now. Big-ass gashes on your stomach. Probably broken ribs. Something felt off in your left leg, besides—oh, ho, what had the doctors thought when they’d seen Hawks’s scratches?

What an idiot.

When the door creaked open, the nurse returned with a mug of water for you, but—what? Who’s that bitch following him?

You blinked, twice. With his hands in his pockets and his nasty little wings tucked in behind him, Hawks meandered to your bedside, his gaze on your throat as you swallowed down water.

God, you’re too tired to deal with him. Let’s get this over with.

The nurse glanced over his clipboard. “I’ve already told your partner this, but I thought you would want him here.”

Maybe if you ignore Hawks, he’ll leave.

“You were very brave today,” said the nurse, “Your work as a hero is greatly appreciated. You’re on temporary leave to heal, though. Like I said, you’ve got three, major gashes on your stomach, and your leg’s broken—the fibula split, if you want to know. You’ll be on crutches for a while. You have four broken ribs, and—” The nurse bit his lip and softened his voice. “You hit your head pretty hard. Nothing’s broken, but you should have amnesia, with the trauma you’ve endured.”

Should have? They don’t know? You sure as hell don’t fucking have amnesia. It barely happens in real life, and it definitely hasn’t happened to you. You remembered every fucking infuriating thing Hawks did to ruin your mission, and if he doesn’t square up—

“I’m so sorry, baby,” said Hawks, grabbing your hand. He stroked the back of it with his thumb, and then he took his glove off to hold you skin-to-skin. “You remember who I am?”

You just stared at him.

“Your fiancé’s been a real presence in the waiting room,” said the nurse, “He hardly stopped pacing the entire time you were in surgery. He wouldn’t even talk to fans.”

Oh, my God.

Holy fucking shit.

“Oops, sorry,” said the nurse, covering his mouth, “I know you were keeping it a secret. Don’t blame him, please; he only told me to be able to see you immediately.”

Shutting your eyes, you took a deep, deep breath. You have been handed a golden opportunity on a fucking Hawks-shaped platter, holy fuck, and by God are you going to take advantage of it. Imagine how much you can fucking humiliate him, how far you can take it. How much you can make him pay for how he treated you, and now, if he says he’s your fiancé, then he’s gonna fucking worship you. You’re going to mould him into your little bitch, and he’s going to thank you for it. And you’ll get endless dirt on him just by seeing his place.

Don��t fuck this up.

Exhaling, you opened your eyes, blinking a bit. You curled your lips into your mouth, biting the lower one. “I remember you’re Hawks,” you said in a nervous voice, “and I remember, uh.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” Hawks squeezed your hand, his tone kind. “It’ll come back in time.”

You clutched Hawks’s hand while the nurse rattled off instructions and gave you your crutches, and Hawks squeezed your hand back, softly smiling at you.

When the nurse left, you turned to Hawks and said, “I’m so, so sorry, but I—I feel like there’s something big missing that I can’t remember.” You scratched your forehead with your free hand, dragging the IVs with you.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Hawks tilted his head, still gazing decidedly down at you.

“Oh, God,” you said, “Oh, fuck. I don’t know. Um.” Take it back. Take it way back. That way he’ll dig himself into a deeper hole. The more lies he has to create, the funnier it’ll be. “Let’s see, I, hm.” You already weren’t speaking like yourself, but you looked upward as you faked combing through memories. “I don’t know how things work chronologically, but the most recent memory I have of you is—it’s after a press conference, and I’ve never been in the building before,” you said slowly, “And I can’t find the bathroom, but some press keeps following me, and I—I faceplant in between your shoulder blades, right between your wings. You—” You lowered your voice, shrinking a little in the hospital bed, “You got rid of them so easily, with just a gesture, and you put your arm around me. You were—” You shook your head, staring at both of your hands. “—so warm.”

Was that too thick? That was too thick, wasn’t it?

His free hand shot to his mouth, and he bit his knuckle. “But sweetheart, that’s,” said Hawks, his eyes watering, “That’s only around the third time we met.”

You know.

“Shit,” you said, widening your eyes, “How long ago was that?”

“Three years.” Hawks squeezed your hand and kept the pressure longer than was necessary. “Three fucking years. You don’t remember anything past that?”

You pretended to be scared to look at him. “I’m sorry; I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, you don’t have to be,” said Hawks, and he leant towards you to lift your chin, rubbing his thumb against it, “It’s not your fault.”

You had to hand it to him: Hawks was a good actor.

But so were you.

***

Hawks disappeared for a while after that, but he manifested the day you were loosed from the hospital, more than giddy to carry all of your shit all the way to your flat. He was probably getting some sick pleasure from watching you hobble on your crutches.

“I can help you, if you lean on me,” said Hawks, giving you an easy grin, “I don’t want you to be in any more pain than you have to.”

“This is something I should do myself,” you said in what was hopefully a tough-it-out voice, “I’d like to be able to walk without depending on anyone.”

“I honestly think you ought to be in a wheelchair.” His wings bristled. “But what do I know? I could fly us to your place, if you like.”

“I don’t like. I’ve gotta concentrate on limping. Stop talking, Hawks.”

You got to your flat, and Hawks had guessed which key opened the door on the first try. Drat! He was already doing a good job of acting like he’d been here before, like he’s not surprised that the number fourteen hero lives in a pretty shitty apartment (you started living here as a student and got too damn comfortable for your own good—plus, you didn’t want your cat to endure the trauma of moving).

Hawks plopped your keys in the bowl by the door with a clatter, and he shut the front door behind you, flipping one of the locks.

He set your stuff neatly on the kitchen table—your purse, your tactical pack, your ropes—and lay your dry-cleaned hero suit over the back of a kitchen chair, and his hands were on you the next moment to guide you to your tacky, sunflower couch. Removing one crutch, he put your arm over his shoulder instead, one hand planted on your lower back above your bandages, and he eased you down onto the cushions.

Hawks then stepped over your legs to sit on your opposite side, and he brought your legs to rest in his lap, his hand gripping your non-casted leg. “Gotta keep it elevated, chickadee.”

You let yourself giggle. Time to get this shitshow started. “Thank you so much for helping me, Hawks; I know I’ve been a real hassle these past few days, and you shouldn’t have to deal with that sort of stress. You’re already under so much. I don’t understand how the commission would let you date anyone, let alone propose.”

“Oh, I know,” said Hawks, spreading himself out on the couch. He shifted himself to face you in addition to accommodate his wings—he was now positioned so that they’d drape over the arm of the couch instead of being squished against the back cushions. That bitch, he probably wasn’t used to couches that weren’t custom made to his special body requirements. Spoiled fuck.

“The commission was really pissed when they found out. Do you remember how, sweetness? Right, I’ll tell you,” said Hawks, running an ungloved hand through his hair before shaking it loose. “You remember up to the press conference with the faceplant. Short version is that you hated me for a good year before something clicked. You started acting awkward whenever I was around, avoiding me, and stuff. Sometimes getting red. I thought it was cute.”

You ducked your head. Flustered. He probably likes easily flustered women.

Wait. That’s not who you are. And he’d like you for who you are, if you’re engaged.

But at the same time, if you’re (gag) in love with him, wouldn’t you be flustered by some of the things he says?

Easy, baby. Take it as it comes. Pick your battles. Go with your gut.

And gut says make Hawks eat shit.

“You think I’m cute?”

“I know you’re cute.”

You’re going to stuff his own feathers down his throat.

“We got together at that dinner Endeavor’s agency sponsored. Do you remember that at all? That place with the purple lights. You’d gotten nervous from the crowd and had gone to take some of your anxiety meds. I caught you in the hall back from the bathroom and talked you down before going back out there.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’d like to say I’m the one who kissed you, but you took initiative before I had the guts.”

Funny. Hilarious, in fact. That was the night Hawks had solidified himself as the Biggest Dick in the World, because yeah, he’d caught you in the purple-lit hallway, but he’d caught you on the way to take your meds, not on the way back. You were talking yourself down from a panic attack and couldn’t argue him away, so he’d followed you into the bathroom, running his mouth and acting like it was an accident when the tip of his wing had knocked your two capsules down the sink.

He’d told you that if you’re a big girl, you’d be able to handle the rest of the night. Or you could leave at any time with him, and he’d make excuses that everyone would have to accept.

Honestly, you’d love to let his fake memory be true, because then, you’d be able to wear purple again without feeling queasy.

Cocking your head, you smiled. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”

Hawks let out a light laugh, craning his neck to rest his head on the back of the sofa. “That’s what you said that night, too. About how it felt out of character.”

“Was I good?”

Lifting his head, he raised an eyebrow at you: probably the first genuine emotion he’s shown you the whole time he’s been here. “Hm?”

“When I kissed you. Was it good,” you asked flatly.

“Oh,” Hawks said, his wings puffing out just barely, “Oh, sweetheart, you were amazing. Groundbreaking. Show-stopping.” His tongue flicked over his lower lip, and he shifted underneath your legs, leaning slightly towards you but holding eye contact before carrying on.

You shook your head. “I don’t have the energy to give you the makeout session you deserve,” you said, envisioning drowning him in the bathtub, “I’m exhausted. Forgive me.”

“Always,” said Hawks, “Want me to keep going?”

“You can hardly eat me out when we haven’t kissed yet.”

“I meant,” said Hawks, pausing to visibly swallow (was it real?), “about our relationship, but if you wanna eat—”

“Nah, keep going. So, I started the relationship? I must be crazy. Neither of us have fucking time to sleep, let alone be in a relationship.”

Hawks never shut up about how he was taking time out of his endlessly packed days to spend time with you, how time was precious to him, and if he’s spending time with you, why, then, you’d better pay up, bitch (always accompanied with his hands on his belt, subtly pointing his thumbs towards his cock).

Hawks shrugged with his wings instead of his shoulders. Interesting. Has he ever done that before? “The commission said that, but after I insisted we’d make time, they relented. Eventually,” said Hawks, jerking his head to the side, “Our quirks don’t exactly fit well, so we haven’t worked with each other professionally too often, and, of course, we’ve had to hide our relationship so that we can’t be a public weak spot to each other. Plus, we’re more marketable as eligible, young heroes.”

“Fuck the market,” you said, slumping into the pillows.

“There’s my girl,” said Hawks, grinning with his tongue caught between his teeth, “There’s her spark. I know, baby. I feel the same way, but being made into libidinous body pillows pays the bills, y’know?”

Nodding, you brought one of the couch pillows around for you to hug, and you smushed your chin into it. “Hawks,” you said, so quietly you almost couldn’t be heard over the A/C kicking on, “How long have we been engaged?”

“Four months,” he said, his grin unconsciously fading until he was essentially baring his teeth, “Since the twentieth.”

Taking a moment, you said, “I can’t remember anything at all.”

“That’s okay. It’ll come back.”

“No, I can’t—” You slid your hands through your hair, pulling at it, and you heaved a sigh. “Goddammit, Hawks. I wish I could—fuck. I’m missing something huge. I know I am.” Make him nervous. Make him lie awake at night. “I’m sorry, Hawks. It’s probably something really important, and I—”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh, it’s all right,” said Hawks, and he stood to lean over you, his hands rising to cup your face, and holy shit, his hands cover so much of your skin; is that legal? He’s got hands. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ve had a big day. Turn your brain off. I’ll take care of you.”

Red flag! Big, red flag! Creep! He’s a creep!

Your gaze fell to his jacket pockets. Does he carry date rape drugs on his person?

“Hawks, I don’t wanna inconvenience you any more than I have.”

“I’m your fiancé,” said Hawks, actually looking you straight in the eyes and not breaking, “I want to take care of you.”

“Sure, in the way the mob takes care of people.”

Hawks’s mouth opened slightly, and his eyes narrowed.

Cover it up. “I’m not sorry. I don’t trust your cooking. You’ll poison my spaghetti!” You made a dumb gesture, pinching your fingers together. “Have you seen The Godfather? There’s actually a pretty legit spaghetti recipe in it; it’s not too bad, but it’s kind of watery—”

Hawks brought your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles and let his lips linger. “Watch it with me?”

You shook your head. “I’m too tired. I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll join you.”

“No,” you said, “My bed’s not made with your wings in mind.” Fuck off to your own little sex next, Hawks. Get out of here. “If they got hurt, it’d be my fault. Go sleep in your own bed, all right?” Go home. Get mugged on the way.

Hawks sighed, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “If you insist. But you’ve gotta reach out to me for anything you have trouble with, yeah? Memories, opening jars, orgasms, you know.”

“I’m leaving,” you said, reaching for your crutches, “Ten minutes ago.”

***

“You didn’t tell me how you proposed.”

Hawks froze mid-bite of his ramen, but after a quick beat, he slurped the rest of the noodle up. “I was hoping you’d recall that on your own, baby. Get your own feelings about it, instead of me telling you how to feel.”

If you weren’t faking amnesia, you’d fucking break his nose for that. Bastard.

“I imagine once you tell me, the feelings will rush in,” you said, clicking your chopsticks twice for emphasis, “I want to remember everything, and if I don’t, well, I want to fall in love with you again.”

Hawks’s gaze glazed over for an infinitesimal moment. Score.

“It’ll sound goofy once I describe it.�� With his wings cramped against the back of the booth, Hawks scratched the back of his neck—a classic move for pretending to be embarrassed. “I’m not exactly known for being romantic.”

Yeah, he’s known for fooling around with anyone who’s glittery, like a goddamn crow. If you’re paying attention.

“Aw, but Hawks, you’ve been nothing but so effortlessly romantic to me since I’ve been convalescing,” you said, rolling up the paper wrapper of your straw and soaking it in the ring your cup left on the table.

“Right, well. I flew us out to the countryside, to this overlook halfway up a mountain. You liked going rappelling there a lot. To practise for missions.” Hawks had some of your habits down, at least. Bet he gets the location wrong, though. “We watched the sunrise. We shared a thermos of tea. I asked you once the sun had risen, but you didn’t say yes right away,” said Hawks, “You jumped off the overlook without your gear, and I caught you. You were furious about it—you didn’t want me to see you overwhelmed. But you said yes.”

Ugh. That sounded about right. That sounded pretty realistic. Hawks was a fucking stalker.

“Fuck,” you said, burying your face in your hands, “That’s cute.” You stretched the skin of your cheeks before releasing, and you returned to your ramen. “Question: did we put the ring into storage, or something? I don’t have the little indent on my ring finger from wearing a ring too long, and I haven’t found anything at home.” Make him sweat. Make him stumble. Where’s the ring, Hawks?

With a flash of his eyebrows, Hawks maneuvered his straw to his mouth using only his lips, looking quite stupid, in your opinion. “Figured you’d ask that at some point. I’m so overjoyed to see you every time that I forget to bring it up. The ring’s been sent off to a high-level, government-backed, support company. I’ve pulled in a favour from the higher-ups. I wanted to turn your ring into something a little more personal and incorporate one of my feathers into it,” said Hawks, taking a moment to slurp his drink noisily, “Depending on how well it goes, I’d be able to help you if we’re separated and know where you are. At the very least—” Hawks ducked his head to give the illusion of staring up at you with wide eyes, his blond eyelashes light against his skin. “—I’d be able to feel your heartbeat. It would bring me great comfort.”

Great, so he’d have a GPS on you at all times, knowing whether or not you went somewhere he didn’t want you to. He’d be able to tell if you went somewhere your non-amnesia self would know about. Great. Phenomenal.

“Hawks, that’s very sweet,” you said, fiddling with the remnants of your straw wrapper, now fizzled out of its snake shape, “Wouldn’t the process hurt you, though? Since you can feel it.”

“Nothing more than a twinge, sweetheart,” said Hawks, holding up his hands, “And I’d bear any amount of pain for your sake.”

You fantasised about beating his head in with the back end of a rifle.

***

When you were told Hawks was waiting for you outside of the recording booth, you told the messenger that Hawks could wait until you were finished with five more takes. You could picture Hawks’s little pout at the news, his feathers bristling despite the closed space, and resigning himself to sit in one of those clangy, metal chairs out front, having to hunch forward so that he didn’t crush his wings.

The idol group adored the ingenuity of bone-crunching as percussion in a song, and along with that and some other combat foley, you were singing the bridge with the rapper of the group (the dance captain would sing your part for live shows). It’d be a good promo for the girl group and for you, and the song, “Spine,” was going to be released as a single as soon as it was polished.

Hawks perked up the moment you stepped through the secondary door to the booth, his eyes brightening and wings spreading to take up more space. “I didn’t think I’d catch you,” said Hawks, standing to take your hands (the cold leather gloves sucked the heat out of your hands), “I’ve got to fly, soon, but I wanted to tell you personally.”

“You’re not pregnant,” you said, fighting the urge to break his goggles/visor/hat thing.

His lopsided grin widened. “Not yet, baby. There’s gonna be a heroes’ gala held at the end of the month, and I wanted to let you know that I’m doing everything in my power to make it a positive experience for you. Here, I’ve got this woman’s phone number,” he said, fishing a slip of paper out of his jacket, “She’ll help accommodate the venue for your leg.”

Stupid fucking bastard man. He probably wanted to pick out your clothes himself, infantilise you and dress you up like a goddamn doll. Deny you your personhood. “I’ll be out of the cast by then.” You slid the paper into your back pocket.

“I know,” Hawks said in a way that was a fucking lie, “I just don’t want there to be any accidents. I can’t have my babygirl any more hurt than she is.” Hawks placed his cold, gloved hand against your cheek, and you, shutting your eyes, made yourself lean into it. “But contact her. She’ll make it the safest place it can be for you, even when I have to leave your side.”

God, galas were great. Big events for villains to ruin. You licked your lips thinking about using a new move you’ve learnt to take a villain down (involving clamping your legs around the villain’s neck to choke him as he crumpled to the floor—your combat coach had banned you from the move after you made her pass out). “Are we announcing our engagement, then? If we’re going together?”

“I’d love to,” said Hawks, “but only if you want to. The ring could be ready by then, if I ask them to rush it—”

“Let’s do it.” If you plunged the ring into icy water, would he start to shiver? Ooh, your ring’s going to act as a fucking bay leaf in your soups for a while.

“Oh,” said Hawks, sighing lightly with his eyes fluttering shut. He pressed his forehead to yours and rubbed his thumb over your cheek. “You have no idea how much that means to me, sweetheart. You are so dear to me, and I want everyone to know it. The best damn thing in my life. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, placing your hand on his face to push him away, “Don’t you have work to do, screw boy?”

***

“Did we have a date?” you asked from the edge of the bathtub.

Hawks dipped the razor in the water, washing off the hair and shaving cream. “We’ve gone on so many, darling; you’ll have to specify.”

“No, I meant for the wedding.” Let’s once again play: Can Hawks Cover His Own Ass?

Hawks dragged the razor down your freshly exfoliated, freshly-un-casted, freshly not-broken leg, starting at your knee. “Nope!”

“No explanation?”

“You wanna get married tomorrow? A six-month engagement is rather short, don’t you think?” His nose twitched. He’d said the scent of your shaving cream irritated his nose. Good.

“I don’t. Why didn’t we have a date for the wedding?” You eyed the actual and literal pile of your dead skin on the towel. Maybe you should make Hawks snort it.

“We were too busy working; you’d said you didn’t mind having a long engagement, so long as I was yours. Then, uh, you know. The accident,” Hawks said with a shrug—with his shoulders this time, because if he moved his wings while he was crouched in your bathtub, he’d soak them, and they were a bitch to dry, apparently. Suffer, you rat bastard.

“The commission isn’t involved in that decision?”

“I thought that was implied,” said Hawks, gripping your ankle to turn your calf to the side, “They don’t want it to be a huge spectacle, so even I don’t know how much of a wedding wedding they’d let us have.”

He’s too damn good at this. If he weren’t a pro-hero, he’d fit right along in a theatre troupe.

You’re going to wring his neck.

You caught him staring at the crotch of your underwear (bone-dry, you might add) while he shaved your thighs, and he spent more time rubbing lotion into your inner thighs than anywhere else. He tossed your dead skin before you could make him eat it, and he scooped you up against your protestations about your weight and capability, humming while he carried you to your bed.

The fucker tucked you in and rounded up your cat to place in your arms (your cat disagreed with him and promptly leapt off the bed).

“Let me stay with you,” said Hawks, kissing each of your fingertips. It’s an order.

Yet you shook your head.

***

“The doctors said you shouldn’t drink,” Hawks said under his breath, taking the champagne flute gently from your grasp.

“But I want to,” you said, sticking out your lower lip, “I’m wearing goddamn heels and a fucking dress. I’ve got on makeup, for Christ’s sake. I’ve done my time; let me drink.”

“Baby, you’ve got to stay safe,” he said, and he set the glass next to some 40s-level hero’s place at the long, white tablecloth. “There’s already press paying more attention to us than usual. You wanna make a fool of yourself?”

“Yes,” you said, lifting another champagne flute from a passing gala waiter, “Who gives a shit about the press.”

Hawks laughed too loudly to be natural before lowering his voice. “Baby, you are gonna be the death of me.”

“Promise?”

***

When “Spine” was released on a cool, spring morning to an excitable audience, you were lurking in alleyways by the docks, searching for a fight. When the music video dropped, you were smashing some guy’s face into a concrete wall. While more and more citizens recognised you and your talent, your work for the community, your connections, your popularity—with your rank steadily rising—you were rappelling down a port sewer to pummel a slime villain into dust.

You wiped his blood off on your pants, hands devoid of anything that could taint. You’d left the ring at home.

***

“You tricked me,” you said, scowling as Hawks pushed you forward, “This isn’t the rock climbing park.”

Once you deliberately smashed your face into the glass door and crossed your arms, Hawks held the door open for you. “Would you have dressed up so nicely for rock climbing?”

“A meta-game challenge,” you said, “to rock-climb in a long skirt.”

You glowered about the restaurant while you and Hawks stood in the lobby, his hand low on your back, suspiciously respectfully. You made no effort to hide your distaste: it was the place with the purple lights.

Over there at the absurdly long bar, Endeavor had drunk flat whisky without so much of a growl at anyone, despite it being his event. Hexagonal tables with lilac tablecloths dotted the floor—you’d hidden in one of the few booths, up against the exposed brick wall—but your hiding place had been ruined once a violet disco ball had emerged from the ceiling. Shiny, wooden floor that had reflected your post-panic attack face right back at you and let every shoe strike it with a clatter. No silence allowed.

The whole restaurant had lavender LED lights running around the walls, swathing the place in a distorted sort of purple haze, and any candles lit on the centre tables had indigo flames—you’d focused on how those might have been made in the process of coming down from your panic attack.

God. You’re going to throw up.

The hostess escorted you and Hawks to a farther back room, this one with booths separated by small, brick walls that didn’t reach the ceiling yet concealed the booths’ occupants from each other—unless you were passing directly in front of one.

Hawks made you sit in the booth first, trapping you in as he settled. He had to be on the edge, anyway, he told you, because of his wings. You’re going to rip them off and boil them in the soup.

The two of you ordered. You don’t remember what. You can only channel so much of your nerves into jostling your leg. This is not cool. This place is not cool. You need to get out.

“Hey, let me through,” you said, nudging Hawks, “Bathroom.”

Once there, you lightly slapped your cheeks a couple of times, trying to ground yourself through physical sensation. No use. Can’t they fucking use normal lights in this place?

You didn’t have your panic meds, because you’ve never needed them rock climbing. You can do it. You’re fine. You’re fine. Your tongue is too big for your mouth.

You took your time meandering back to the booth, coming to a halt at the end of the narrow hallway and ducking behind the corner.

Endeavor stood by your booth, his arms crossed over a flaming chest. You caught your breath at the sight of his orange fire, a comforting contrast to all the damn purple, but still—Endeavor. Talking to your (gag) fiancé.

Without the courage to interact with Endeavor, you listened at the corner for his departure.

“Nah, she can handle her bladder just fine. It’s her nerves,” Hawks was saying, hidden by the bricks, “She likes hiding. She doesn’t necessarily like being in the spotlight.”

“Yet she hasn’t completely withdrawn as Eraserhead has. You’ve picked a strange one to marry.”

From the angle Endeavor glared at him, Hawks must be slumping in his seat. “But that’s what so great about her. And it’s hard to process, y’know, like, she’s finally mine. You follow?”

“Regrettably,” said Endeavor, “Regardless, I offer my congratulations that your courtship finally worked out in your favour. You should have told me sooner.”

Courtship. That’s a funny way to pronounce bullying.

“Eh, I’ve gotta have some secrets, don’t I? Can’t betray my otherwise cool exterior.” Hawks laughed. “I can’t believe I’ve been allowed such happiness. The woman I’ve loved for years is gonna be waking up to me every day soon, y’know?”

Hawks has got to know you can hear him, otherwise he wouldn’t be saying those things. Endeavor must be in on Hawks’s ruse, since Endeavor is Hawks’s closest—actually, Endeavor isn’t the type to revel in romantic shit. Endeavor straight-up isn’t the type to revel. To the best of your knowledge, Endeavor doesn’t genuinely like Hawks as so much as tolerates him; when did they get so close? It must have taken a long time—

Time.

You could feel your IQ dropping as you actually considered: had you been in a legitimate coma? Had you (fuck) genuinely had amnesia?

No, no. You don’t live in Crazytown. Your eyebrows hadn’t been overgrown when you’d woken up in the hospital. You’d only been there a day.

Of course, Hawks is a vain piece of shit and does his own eyebrows, so he might have considered that yours were a piece of pride/insecurity for you and may have done them while you were—did Hawks do his own eyebrows? That spoiled fuck probably had someone else to do them for him. If they were naturally like that, you were going to throttle his ass.

You didn’t fucking have amnesia. Hawks is and always has been a stupid, clammy birdbrain. He’s always been cruel to you. He didn’t fucking like you.

He sure as hell wasn’t in fucking love with you.

Oh, my fuck, what if your memories of Hawks have been fabricated by a coma-addled mind and that—

“Hey, there,” said—said someone, some pale-ass, sleep-deprived freak who startled you out of your head, “Are you all right? You look—I mean, do you need some water? A chair?”

You blinked, yet he wouldn’t come into focus—you were taking in details about him, ones that didn’t fucking matter (chain on his wallet, three rings all on the left hand, a button-down missing the last button, a cloud of axe body spray), but he didn’t register as a human person. He couldn’t; you hadn’t grounded yourself yet. You yourself still had a frazzled, cartoon scribble buzzing inside of your chest, and until you vomited it up, a panic attack may yet still happen.

You can’t deal with anyone new right now.

A spark of recognition crossed the new guy’s face, and he, through a smirk, asked if you were your hero name.

Oh god oh fuck not now

“Sweetheart,” came Hawks’s melodious drawl (registering first his voice, then bodily warmth, then the wingtip covering your ass), “You were taking so long that I came to check on you.” He pulled you by the waist towards him, blocking the guy from seeing your face by pressing it into his chest. “Who’s this?”

Who cares. All you could focus on (sharp and overwhelming, nothing else but) was how fucking incredible Hawks smelled, and at this point, you’d use anything to bring yourself back down to earth. A small voice in the back of your head told you that freaking out to this degree in this particular situation was leaning towards pathetic, since basically nothing happened, besides being in an uncomfortable environment and being accosted by a fan at the wrong time, but you? You did not control the rate at which your brain panicked.

And really, no rhyme or reason played into why your grabby little hands itched for human contact once safe in the booth again, why Hawks’s scent lay on your tongue more heavily than your soup, why the overwhelming sensation of being so fucking spaced out of it threw its entire weight upon your shoulders—you couldn’t find yourself. You were lost.

And in this horrible, purple place, the only thing that’s familiar was Hawks.

When you scooted as closely as you could to him in the booth, keeping your glare towards your lap while you looped your arm under his to snuggle into it, Hawks cleared his throat to say, “What’s this?”

You scowled into his jacket, both hands gripping his forearm.

He set his chopsticks down. “How can I help, darling?”

Growling, you bonked your forehead against his shoulder, dragging your hands down to his.

“Hey,” said Hawks, and he guided your face towards his and stroked your cheek with his thumb, “Did that guy bother you too much before I got there?”

Turning your mouth towards the hand cupping your cheek, you kissed his palm, bit the leather, and kissed it again before burying yourself in his shoulder again.

He rested his hand on the crown of your head. “What’s the matter? Can you tell me?”

“Not sure I can put it into words,” you said, “I think I wanna go home.” You bit the fabric of his jacket and gnashed it between your teeth.

“I can handle that,” said Hawks, “Gimme a moment to get takeaway boxes, yeah? Then we’ll leave, and you’ll be safe. Don’t worry.”

Unfortunately, you were still clutching onto his arm by the time he unlocked his darkened penthouse (because you’re not gonna hold his hand. God), but you slapped his hand away from the light switches.

“Turning them on would be too much stimulation,” you said, “Please don’t.”

Hawks hummed against the top of your head, placing keys and both of your phones on the kitchen counter. “Bed or couch?”

“Window,” you said.

“Window?”

“I’m assuming you’ve got one.”

“I do,” said Hawks, guiding you through his dark apartment, probably past scarily expensive, posh shit. He led you to what was most likely his living room, with the cool, dim light of the night sky through a vast, single-frame, wall-to-floor window illuminating furniture custom built for his wings, but he eased you down onto the carpet, tugging your shirt upwards so that the window would be touching your bare skin on the small of your back.

Hawks yanked his boots off, late, instead of at the door, and he tossed them over his shoulder. He took yours off, too, and once he’d set them aside, he sat next to you against the window, a hand on your thigh.

“Better?”

“Probably,” you said, staring at the triangle of light beige carpet between your crossed legs.

“Need me to talk? You need to talk?”

“Not right now.”

Hawks was a dumbass. He’s such a fucking dumbass. But he’s a dumbass who’s here right now, and he’s interested (?) in you, interested in helping you. And good golly, you have to be touched. Hawks’s offering warmth, freely, potentially lovingly, and all you had to do was reach out to take it, even if you didn’t reciprocate whatever sentiment was motivating him yourself.

Do you really want to take what you have no feelings for?

Hawks lies a lot to Endeavor. To everyone. He might not have been lying earlier. What reason had he to lie?

Guess it didn’t matter, because you were lying.

But good God, you haven’t been kissed in a long time. Haven’t felt safe or loved. You could…you could indulge for a few hours in order to calm down. You could pretend.

The last ten months had proved that.

“Hey,” you said idly, reaching out to grab the inner fleece lining of his jacket to rub it between your fingers, “Hawks, I’m gonna—I’m gonna put my mouth on your mouth. Okay?”

Hawks’s wings ruffled and constricted themselves so that he could move closer to you, and his hand has migrated from your thigh to grip your hip—how could anyone’s hands encompass that much of you? Your fucking hands couldn’t, not in the way his does.

(Bird man big and safe.)

([No, fuck you, don’t think that.])

(BIRD MAN SAFE—)

Shoved is how you’d describe the first few seconds of the kiss, followed closely by wet and you’d think his teeth would be sharper. Your lips didn’t line up with his completely until he adjusted your chin with two of his fingers, guiding it open just barely, as well, so that his tongue could graze your teeth—it took you a moment of processing before parting them, with a final don’t think! shouted to your neocortex.

Birds have a higher body temperature than other animals, on average having a body temperature of 105 degrees Fahrenheit (40 degrees Celsius). The colour of their feathers, of course, affects how much light and heat they absorb, with the lighter coloured feathers—say, red—reflecting more, rejecting outside heat sources.

Yet Hawks gripped you like he’d fucking freeze if he weren’t clutching you, if he weren’t straddling your legs, one palm flat against the cool of the window by your head. The other snaked around you, his forearm lying almost vertically up your back to press down between your shoulder blades, keeping you as near to his chest (he probably didn’t realise it, but his fingers ran across the curve of your shoulder blades where his wings were on his own body.

For some reason, the thought crossed your mind that you weren’t enough for him, because you were too dissimilar.)

Don’t think!

When he massaged your tongue with his, applying pressure sporadically, you returned the action—have you ever seen a bird tongue up close? They’re fucking nasty little things, looking more like a grub than anything else. Thank God Hawks had a normal, human tongue that performed particularly delightful, normal things, like drag across the roof of your mouth and aid in sucking phenomenal hickeys onto your jawline, licking over where he’s bitten and kissed.

Stop thinking about bird anatomy. Hawks has no discernible bird traits except for his fucking wings. He’s not a fucking bird man. He’s just some dude with wings. And not all birds have functional wings; for example, the ostrich and the penguin do not have wings to be used in flight—

Oh, my fuck. Turn your brain off.

Your stomach lurched. That had been something Hawks had told you too often, back before your accident.

It’s what he wants.

Hawks fucking whimpered when you pulled the shorter hairs at the back of his neck, prying him away from your skin with great difficulty—he kept trying to touch you with his mouth and tongue in the process.

“Let me have more,” he said, panting, his breath heavy and just below your ear, “Please.” He pressed his lips to the spot in front of your ear in a weak kiss, having spent himself for the most part. “I’ve missed you so much, baby. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me for so long.”

“I don’t—” You fake-stuttered, but it turned out you needed the time to put your thoughts into words. “I don’t think I’m back yet. I’m,” you said, taking as deep a breath as you could with Hawks smushed against your chest, “Something’s missing. Something big.” That’s right. Steer it back in his direction. Make the bird man sweat. “I don’t—something doesn’t feel right.”

It took a moment, but Hawks nodded fervently, shutting his eyes. “Of course. Yeah. Yeah, I get it, sweetheart. Can’t do anything when your heart’s not in it.”

Your heart’s not the problem. “Thank you for being so understanding, Hawks,” you said, untangling yourself from underneath him, “Would you just, uh, hold me for a while?”

His wings wrapped around the both of you on his enormous bed, still fluttering with each slow breath he took. Hawks almost looked genuine while he slept, and probably for the best—at least he was getting rest; at least his guard might be down.

You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing.

***

“Rank speculation is out,” you said, scrubbing the pumice stone over a patch of dry skin on Hawks’s back and scrolling through the twitter with your other hand, “Take a look.”

He opened the link you sent once he’d safely removed a dead feather that had been lodged in an odd spot in a wing. “Huh. Think I could truly take on Endeavor?”

“Well, he’s got that abusive-to-his-family thing, while you’re rocking the preparing-for-my-wedding look, and he can’t network non-aggressively to save his life.”

“Nor can you.” Hawks shot you a smirk over his shoulder.

“Zoom in on my speculated nine, baby,” you said, flicking away some dead skin with a satisfied/disgusted sneer, “And I didn’t have to sleep my way there.”

“Ah, ha, ha,” said Hawks, “Knew you could do it. Whoever’s told you that is gonna have to deal with my foot up their ass. You’re more than capable of getting there on your own.”

“Which I did. I have.” Wait. Hawks told you that. No, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s a commonly said, misogynistic comment towards women heroes. Hawks isn’t special. “But having your foot up someone’s ass wouldn’t be good for PR, unless you wanted to advertise that you’re a kinky son of a bitch who’s cheating on his fiancée.”

“I would never,” said Hawks, and, contorting his arm, he grabbed your hand with the pumice stone to kiss the back of it, “But my PR is solid, regardless.”

“If the public knew how much time you had to spend preening these fucking wings, they’d probably appreciate you more. Or call you conceited.”

Hawks hummed. “It’s a necessary evil,” he said, returning to his wingtip to search for dead feathers. “Thank you for helping.”

“No problem. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t get to see how—Hawks, holy fuck. Do you feel that?” You ran a finger near the base of a wing.

“It’s your finger?”

“No, this,” you said, tapping the spot.

“No?”

“My God. It’s a dilated pore of a winer,” you said, already reaching for the tweezers, “Right at the base of your wing. It’s basically an enormous fucking blackhead. I’m popping it. Oh, my God. I’ve never seen one in real life.”

“You’re popping it?”

“You didn’t have a problem with my getting the ones where your costume sits.”

“No,” said Hawks, rolling back his shoulders, his wings spreading with them, “Gotcha. Get on with it.”

“Can I film it?”

“What? No,” said Hawks, “No one can see me preening, let alone dealing with acne.”

“There’s sure to be another hero out there with a wing quirk, right? I don’t know how you can’t feel it.”

“Yeah,” Hawks said slowly, “Since my feathers can feel—I suppose where the wings merge with my skin is pretty numb. I haven’t ever had to think about it.” He licked his lips. “Funny.”

He continued to scroll through his feed and tend to his feathers while you worked at his back. “Bad news: the tabloids got a hold of our grocery list from the last time we went to the shops. I must have dropped it at some point in the store.”

“Oh, so do they know what kind of ice cream we prefer? The horror.”

“No, but they’ve brought in some hack handwriting analyst. Talking about our annotations for each other on the list. Something about how you’re logical and I’m a romantic. The writer of the article is practically swooning.” Hawks pulled out a clot of feathers with his teeth and spat them aside. “With good reason, though. The trashy pictures they snapped of us are hot.”

“Describe them to me.”

“I can show you—”

“No,” you said, concentrating on your work, “I don’t want the image imprinted on my brain. Describe them in your own words.”

“All right,” said Hawks, crossing his legs and placing his phone on the coffee table in front of him, “To start, the flash is on.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. We’ve got that distantly surprised look going on. It looks like we’re near the eggs and cheese. You’re not looking at the camera, but I believe it’s in the moment I caught it.” Hawks flicked away a feather and let it fall to the carpet. “My hand’s on your waist. The other’s on the cart. You’ve scrunched your face up in concentration; it’s really cute.”

“Aw, we should get it framed,” you said, wiping away the gunk with a tissue and wadding it up so that no one will ever have to see or touch it ever again.

“Never,” said Hawks, “The first picture of us I wanna get framed should be on our wedding day.”

“It’s coming along quickly,” you said, setting aside the tweezers, “Bit more quickly than I’d thought it would.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait,” said Hawks with a light laugh, and you ducked to rest your head against his shoulder, straining your neck to reach him over his wing.

Hawks clicked his non-nasty, non-bird tongue. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Sighing, you said, “Turn your head this way.”

He did you one better, since he anticipated your plan. He twisted around, keeping his legs crossed as he pulled you into his lap. His wings initially bristled but wrapped around you when his arms did, and Hawks kissed your cheek, once, twice, until he arrived at your mouth, where he barely grazed your lips, rather letting his hot breath spread over your face—and he grinned up at you with half-lidded eyes (he’d left off his eyeliner today, but the natural marks below his waterline kept his eyes sharp, anyway).

“Kiss me, you fucking idiot,” you said, overriding whatever he was about to do by kissing him yourself, hard and open-mouthed, almost violent in its fervent. Yet Hawks held you lightly, delicately, but still close enough to freeze.

You ran your cold, cold hands over his bare abdomen, pressing your thumb down with considerable force to trace his muscles (he grunted at that, and that’s it; that’s right—make him squirm; make him sweat; make him yours). His finger only toyed with the hem of his shirt that you were wearing, as if waiting for you, which didn’t line up with what you had garnered about Hawks at all, but c’mon, man, come on; didn’t you want this all those months ago? Almost a year, now? Years, if what he said to Endeavor is true? But when he flinched away with a shaky breath once your cold fingers circled his nipple, you knew this was where you were supposed to be: right here, in Hawks’s lap, completely destroying him with hardly anything at all. Nothing but light touches and a strategic flick of your tongue. Idiot man. He must really like you if this is doing it for him.

You slowed and opened your eyes at that thought, frowning, and you pulled away. With the back of his hand, Hawks wiped saliva off of both of your mouths, yours first.

He waited for you.

“If you can’t take all of me, then what’s the point?”

He tilted his head. “I’ll take whatever part of you you’re willing to share.”

“I’m missing something.”

“I know.”

“I want to find it before we get married.” You laid your palm flat on his chest, and he grinned at the cold.

“You can find it,” he said, “I know you can.”

“I don’t know what I’m blocking out,” you said, lying—or maybe you weren’t? Fuck it. “Whatever I’m repressing is really fucking with me.”

“Take your time,” said Hawks, running his tongue over his lower lip. “I’m here for—”

“Hawks,” you said, faking the light of realisation in your eyes, accompanied with a sharp inhale, “I can’t remember your name.”

Hawks’s mouth snapped shut.

“You told me once. I know you did,” you said, moving to cup his cheek after tapping the mark underneath his eye, “but the memory—there’s a blur where you spoke. I—” You cut yourself off, biting your lip. “That, that might be it. I don’t know. Everything else about the scene is in perfect detail. I remember what fucking socks I was wearing, for Christ’s sake. But you. What you said. Maybe it’s something so personal, so intimate, that I’ve repressed it. Maybe it was too much for me to handle.” You cupped his face with both hands now, forcing him to look at you. If you hadn’t been scrutinising him for some evidence of breaking character, you wouldn’t’ve seen the minute quivering of his upper lip. Hardly there, but it was there. “It’s a part of you that I want. Even if I couldn’t handle it before, I want to try now.”

Hawks averted his gaze, even though he couldn’t move his head. And bang, you’ve got him. Hawks’s name was still strictly secret, hidden by the commission, but if he’s genuinely in this dumbass situation for the long haul, if he’s truly in it for you, then he would have told you. Even if he wanted you to continue to call him Hawks, your own fiancé would have told you his damn name.

So, this is it. The way out.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out you’ve been faking all this time. Good. Let each feather burn.

“Keigo,” he said, staring into your eyes with a newfound determination, “My name is Takami Keigo.”

Oh, shit—you clapped a hand over your heart, your eyes widening. Maybe you could play this off as memory recovery instead of absolute shock? But you hadn’t any memories to recover, probably. Holy fuck.

Where do you go from here?

You tried to say his name but ended up simply mouthing it, and after clearing your throat and coughing a bit, you managed to say it aloud. “Keigo,” you said softly, reaching for his hand, “Keigo, I fucking love you.”

You’d only been kissing him for a few moments before his wings shuddered in a muscle spasm and flung you off to the side.

***

Only a commission higher-up witnessed your wedding. She stood silently to the side the entire ceremony in the courthouse and only shook Hawks’s hand afterwards.

You and your cat essentially moved into his penthouse and adjusted. Your mostly empty apartment stayed leased under your name.

Sometimes, you’d note that you turned your brain off and instantly be hit with a lightning strike of self-loathing—but you didn’t have to consciously decide to be affectionate with Hawks. Being with him came naturally and easily. Probably for the best, since if you had to think about it, you’d screw it up.

You stayed together. Supported each other. Sneaked out to see the other on patrol. Took care, listened to each other. Defended each other. Worked it out.

And now, you stared up at the ceiling fan whirling in your darkened bedroom, Keigo lying on his stomach next to you in the bed as he slept. Your cat catloafed between his wings and nestled into them, rising and falling with each breath he took. Hawks was perfect, always saving the day, working up a routine to mesh with your fighting style and quirk, always charming and easygoing with the people he rescued, indulging you in your ferocity, and Keigo, Keigo whispered sweet and dirty things into your ear when he spotted you in public, made you laugh, worked wonders with his cock, helped you clean up before he even thought of preening himself, held you, and made you feel held. He’s got it bad.

And maybe you do, too.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out.

#bnha #mha #hawks #keigo takami #takami keigo #hawks x reader #hawks/reader #hawks imagine #hawks fic #hawks headcanons #hawks fanfic #hawks fanfiction #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo/reader #takami keigo imagine #takami keigo fic #takami keigo headcanons #takami keigo fanfiction #takami keigo fanfic

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write-orflight · 4 years ago

Text

Settle Down: Chapter 6

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev - Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (kinda enemies to lovers)

Rating: M

Words: 2.8K

Warnings: None really

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one thing you need someone else for… A baby. You can plantonically start a family, right?

A.N: Kinda a filler chapter and I kinda made JJ a bitch in this chapter, oops. Let me know what you think and reply to this chapter or message to be tagged. much love- Cia

Chapter 6: Well, she’s a blob right now, so I hope not

You groaned when you woke up.

Your head and throat hurt so much. Spencer stirred next to you, sitting up when he saw you moved. He wordlessly hands you a cup of water, which you take graciously.

“How do you feel?” Spencer asks.

“Head hurts.” You groan.

“Yea, a concussion will do that.” He chuckles.

You look him in the eyes. “The baby?”

“Is completely fine.” Spencer finishes. “But about that…”

“What happened?”

“I’d like to preface this with it’s not my fault.” Spencer explains. “But when the doctor was telling me what happened, he let it slip that the baby was fine… in front of Morgan and Garcia.”

You wince. “How pissed are they?”

“They’re more excited than anything but… She is a little mad that we didn’t tell her especially since she knew we were trying.”

You nod. “I’ll get her a gift this weekend, she’ll get over it. But that means we’re going to have to tell everyone huh?”

“I made them agree to keep it under wraps until you were ready. It’s your decision.”

You nod. “I’ll go to Hotch as soon as I’m out of here.” You say.

“Y/N, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to--”

“No, you were right. I can’t keep putting the baby at risk because I’m scared. It’s better to just tell him as soon as possible and deal with the repercussions later.” You say. “You don’t have to, but will you come with me? I won’t tell anyone it’s yours if you don’t want me to.”

Spencer looks at you incredulously. “What? Y/N, I was not going to make you do this alone. We’re a team now. If we tell them, we do it together.” He says, grabbing your hand.

“Thanks, Spencer.”

“You’re welcome.”

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

You never liked being in Hotch’s office which is why you tried to avoid it all cost. Spencer’s leg bounced nervously as the two of you waited for Hotch to finish his phone call. You tapped his leg to get his attention. Once granted, you gave him a look that read Are you okay or do I need to do this alone? Spencer shakes his head no at you and you lean back. Eventually, Hotch hangs up the phone and levels a look at the two of you.

“What did the two of you need to meet with me about?” He asks. “If this is another coffee dispute, I don’t want to be involved--”

“He knew that was my mug but that’s now what we’re here for.” You say. “We’re here because I need to fill out a leave form.”

Hotch looks at you seemingly more confused than he was before but nods anyway. “What leave form do you need?”

“Um, maternity.” Hotch’s eyes snap back up at you, widely drifting from you and Spencer. You knew you didn’t have to say it, Hotch was a talented Profiler and has been one for years. “I’m about 3 months now, so I’ll need it around November for 3 months and Spencer will need 1 month of Paternity leave--”

“Ok, let's back up for a second so I can make sure I’m clear on what’s happening here.” Hotch says, holding up his hands. “You’re pregnant?”

“Yes.” You say.

“And Spencer is--”

“The father, yes.”

“And you guys are…?” He trails off.

“Co-Parents.” You say at the same time as Spencer says “Friends.”

Hotch sighs, pinching his brow together. “Is your previous relationship going to affect how you work together now?”

You and Spencer look at each other in confusion for a second before realizing exactly what Hotch was saying to you. “Sir, I understand your confusion but there is no previous relationship to worry about. Me and Spencer have never been in any kind of relationship. We just mutually wanted a kid.” You say.

“It won’t affect our work, sir.” Spencer adds.

“Well, except for the obvious way.” You say, pointing at your belly.

Hotch sighs again, before wordlessly handing the both of you a form. “I suggest the two of you find a better way to tell the team than you did me.”

You and Spencer wince at that before getting up, mumbling ‘yes, sir’. When you’re almost out the door, you hear Hotch call. “Y/N?”

You turn back, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Congratulations.” He says.

You can’t help the smile that crosses your face. “Thank you, sir.”

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

The two of you decide to wait two more weeks before telling everyone, wanting to find out the gender first. You find out that you’re having a girl and Spencer holds you while crying while the doctor shows you your baby on the Ultrasound screen.

Your baby.

The very real human that you and Spencer created was in fact, real and you could see her.

“Thank you.” He whispers to you, when the two of you leave the office, pictures of your beautiful daughter in hand. “I just never thought I’d get this experience.”

It’s enough to make the waterworks start again.

Later, you go into work, lunch for you in Penelope in hand. When you sit the sandwich from her favorite shop in front of her, she says nothing.

“Aw, come on Pen. You can’t still be mad at me.”

“Yes, I can be.” She pouts.

“Look, I’m sorry I kept it from you but I didn’t want to tell anyone until I was sure I was having a healthy baby.” You say, Pen looks a little guilty but still keeps her back towards you. Alright, you think, time to pull out the big guns. “Would you still be mad at me if I let you be first to see the pictures of your goddaughter?”

That makes Penelope turn towards you with a wide eyed expression. “Goddaughter? As in--”

“We’re having a girl.” You say. “And we want you to be the godmother. But only if you want to.” You add.

Penelope smiles wide before wrapping you in a tight hug. “Of course, I will be! Are you kidding? If something happens to you, someone’s gotta make sure this kid gets into Harvard.”

You laugh. “Make it UPenn and you’ve got a deal.”

“You bet! Now, I was promised pictures…?” You smile and hand them over. Penelope coos as she goes through the photos. “Oh, she looks just like you.”

“Well, she’s a blob right now, so I hope not.”

Later, you guys get a case, 4 men murdered in New Haven, and you and Penny present the case together. After Hotch calls wheels up, you clear your throat.

“Actually, if you guys don’t mind waiting for a second, I have something to say.” You say, addressing the larger group. “Some of you already know this but since I’m probably going to start showing more by the time you get back I figure it’s better to tell you now. I’m pregnant, well me and Spencer are. It’s a girl, and she’s due around November.”

“Woah, are you joking?” Emily says, sitting up fully now. “You and Spencer are having a kid?” You nod and she jumps up to hug you. Which starts a cacophony of hugs and claps on the back in congrats for the both of you from the rest of the team.

“And you told me there was nothing going on between you and boy wonder.” Emily smirks, when she pulls back from your hug.

“Believe me when I tell you, she is the only thing happening between me and Spencer. Nothing else.”

She laughs. “If you say so, kid. But I see the way he looks at you.” She says. You can’t help but to look at Spencer in that moment who is smiling at the congratulations being given to him too. You can’t help but also smile at his warmth. He must feel your eyes on him because he looks up and smiles brightly back at you. Soon, Hotch is congratulating you guys again but directing the team to start getting ready as the Jet will be leaving soon. Spencer walks up to you in that moment.

“Are you going to be okay while I’m gone?” Spencer asks.

“Am I ever not?” You counter. Spencer laughs.

“Call me if anything happens, ok?”

It was in that moment that you realized just how much of a staple Spencer had become in your life. The idea of him being gone on a case for so long was… actually upsetting you and before you could stop yourself you ask.

“Can I call you if nothing happens?” You say, instantly regretting how desperate the sentence made you sound. Spencer looks at you confused for a second. “You know what? Nevermind, have fun. Or as fun as murder investigations can get--”

“Y/N.” He cuts you off, you look up at him and he has a marshmallow soft expression on those honey colored eyes that made you almost melt on the spot. “You can call me whenever you need me. Seriously, ok?”

You nod at the man. “Ok.”

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

The team comes back two weeks later when you’re officially in maternity clothes. Which were a lot more comfortable. The only thing you had to worry about was occasionally swatting Penelope’s hand away from your belly. It’s not too long after their return that Penelope is suggesting you guys have a girls night, which you agree to whole-heartedly. You couldn’t drink but you needed to get out the house, you were practically going stir crazy.

“Alright 3 tequila shots for the grown ups and a mocktail for mama.” Garcia says handing out the drinks, which you gratefully take mumbling a thank you.

“God, I can’t believe you and Spencer are having a kid.” Emily adds after the group takes their shots.

“Neither can I sometimes, but I am excited.” You smile.

“Yea, it’s kind of… shocking.” JJ adds. Your eyes narrow slightly at her tone, something was off but you decided it wasn’t worth mentioning. “I just wished you guys had talked more about it before going through with it.” She shrugs.

Ok, now you were really confused. “Well, Spencer and I actually talked about it for a long while before actually deciding to get pregnant.”

“I’m sure you did, I’m just saying I wish you had talked about it more with us.” She adds.

Your mother used to always tell you no matter how hard you tried growing up, you could never fully hide when you were pissed. Which is probably why Penelope and Emily got weird looks on their face when you said. “Well JJ, I’ll be honest. When I decided I wanted to have a kid with Spencer. I didn’t think discussion needed to be had with anyone other than me and Spencer and on occasion, my doctor because we’re both adults capable of making very adult decisions.” You say, sipping your drink. “What’s your deal with Spencer anyway?”

She brushes that off. “I just don’t think he’s ready.”

“Well, I do because he’s an adult who thinks for himself and he told me he was ready. What, do you not think Spencer will be a good dad?”

She shakes her head. “I know Spencer will be a great dad.”

“So, you think I’m going to be a bad mother?” You say. JJ says nothing. “Cool, JJ, really cool.” You say, standing up and grabbing your bag.

“Oh come on, Y/N. I didn’t say that!” She calls.

“You didn’t have to. Thanks for inviting me, Penny.” You say, clutching your bag and holding the tears that threatened to leave. “I’ll see you guys at work.”

Leaving the bar, you realize that you were very upset and probably shouldn’t be alone so before you can stop yourself you call him.

Spencer answers on the second ring. “Hey, what’s wrong? I thought it was girls night.”

“Can I come over?” You blurt.

“Here?” Spencer asks. “Yea.”

“Great.” You say, hanging up.

The short ride to Spencer’s is filled with the soft sounds of Stevie Nicks playing through your speakers. When you get to the apartment building you bound up the stairs before knocking on the familiar door. You loved Spencer’s work clothes fine enough but if you had to pick a favorite Spencer’s lounge clothes were definitely in the top ten. The man stood in front of you in a pair of gray sweats and graphic t-shirt from a horror movie festival that he had told you he went to every year when you guys were talking about traditions you’d want to carry over to your child. And how he wanted for you guys to go as a family once she was a proper horror movie watching age. He wordlessly steps to the side to let you in the apartment.

“Hey, what’s up? You never want to come here.” Spencer says, as you settle on his couch.

“Did I pressure you into this?” You blurt. Spencer looks at you confused.

“What?”

“I mean, do you actually want this as much as I do or did I pressure you into this.”

“What? Of course, I want this. Have I given you any indication that I don’t?”

“No!”

“Then, what’s up?”

“I don’t know. I just, I really wanted our baby and if you weren’t ready then I should’ve thought about it more, asked more but even if you didn’t want it now it’s too late and JJ got in my head and--”

“Hold on, JJ?”

“We got into a slight argument at girls night.” You say.

“And what did she say to you?”

“That she wishes we talked about it more with them before just having a baby and that she also doesn’t think you’re ready. And she kind of implied I’m going to be a bad mom.” You say, furiously wiping your face as the tears fell from your eyes against your will. “I’m going to be a bad mom.” You repeat.

Spencer is immediately kneeling in front of you, large hands cradling your face as his thumbs gently wiped the tears from your eyes. “Hey, hey. First, you didn’t pressure me into this. In fact, you gave me time and space to come to my own conclusion and I decided on my own that I wanted to have a child with you. And I came to that conclusion because I know for a fact that you are going to be a great mom. Because I know that there is no one who is going to love this child as much as I will than you. And I know that I am 100% by your side and ready for this, ok? I didn’t ask for a second opinion because I didn’t need one. I knew that I wanted this and that I wanted it with you.” He says, you nod. “Do you need me to talk to her?”

“No, I have a feeling that’ll only make things worse.”

“She upset you.” Spencer points out.

She did but you didn’t want the unnecessary drama that would come with Spencer confronting JJ for you. So you brush it off. “Yesterday, I cried over burnt toast. It’s the hormones.” You say.

Spencer nods, taking the seat next to you on the couch. “Will watching Mulan make you feel better?”

“Do you even have to ask that?”

You’re about halfway through the movie when the thought comes to you.

“Your lease is up here in two months, right?” You say, turning your attention away from the army singing about their dream girls to the man whose shoulder you had drifted on at some point of the film.

“Yea.” Spencer nods.

“Move in with me.” You say. Spencer looks at you for a second like you’ve grown a second head. “I mean, It’s practical, right? I have a house, a room already set up for her, an office I can turn into an extra room for you. It’d be really helpful during the first couple of months. Plus, we wouldn’t have to worry about child-proofing this absolute fire hazard.” You say, gesturing to the books all around you. “And if you decide you don’t want to live there we can find you a new place.” You shrug.

“You’re serious?” Spencer asks. “You want me around that much?”

“As a heart attack, I always want you around, Spencer.” You say, before you can stop yourself, look at him with a soft expression.

“It is practical.” Spencer notes.

“So, that’s a yes?” You ask.

“It’s not a no.” Spencer smiles down at you before turning back to the screen.

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