#and if I force myself to talk more I always end up blurting out some weird shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shorkbrian · 4 years ago

Note

I swear I ain’t in it for the money, but I can’t stop thinking about sugar daddy shoto. Maybe he sweeps a cute little college kid or barista of their feet, just something fun and casual. But this man starts falling harder, needing a way to lock them down to him. Money isn’t quite cutting it anymore, so he decides fucking a baby into her would do the trick. Shoto would push her down into the mattress, large frame twisting her into a sweet mating press. This way they could stay together forever and Shoto would have absolutely no problem providing for his sweet family <3

but fr tho I feel like Shouto is NOT the type for kids.

Mans will tolerate them when they babble or wave at him, but he very actively Does Not Want them.

Always uses condoms, and even though he’ll threaten not to, it’s never a legit thought in his mind to cum inside. Shouto doesn’t want to be a dad.

-----

You’ll be sittin on a park bench, fading sunset dark and pretty in front of you yet all you can do is cry. There’s not really any people around so it’s not like you’re bothering anyone - you hadn’t wanted to cry in your shabby apartment (half the cause of your worries) just in case you received a noise complaint.

“Are you alright?”

A somber, smooth voice is heard. You’re swiping at your tears quickly as you look up, trying to laugh off your state of distress. “Oh, haha, yeah I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” It’s hard to smile with your puffy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

The man in front of you frowns, hands in his coat pockets, scarf draped around his neck. “You don’t look fine. Mind if I sit?”

He’s already claiming the spot next to you on the bench before you can say a word, turning to you with a passive expression. “Why are you crying?”

And that’s all it takes to have you breaking down all over again, tears streaming down your face. Just one person offering to listen to the heavy burden you have to bear.

‘’M sor-sorry...” You sob, wiping at your eyes with frigid fingers, successful in doing nothing more but smearing tears around your face.

“Here.” The man’s taking off his scarf, gloved hands offering it you.

“I ca-can’t use your sc-scarf sir.” But he’s insistent, pressing it into your hands up by your face.

“I’ll just get another one. Keep it, you’re in need of it more than I am.”

The kindness makes another fresh bout of tears roll down your cheeks, but this time you're able to dab them away with soft fabric as you sniffle.

It takes a moment for you to calm yourself. When you do, you can finally engage in conversation with the man.

You tell him about your job hours getting cut, how you’ve been turned down or ignored by every single place you’ve applied at for a second job. How you’re barely affording to wash your clothes - you have to hang them or drape them across things in your apartment because you don’t have the money to pay for a dryer cycle.

And to top it all off, you’re still short on rent, despite how you scrimped and saved and even forced yourself not to buy groceries this week - you’ve gone hungry for the past three days.

“You haven’t eaten?”

You glance up at the man and his incredulous expression, shaking your head. “I’ve been trying to save money, I thought I could afford my rent if-”

“What kind of food do you like?” The man is pulling out his phone, swiping and tapping immediately.

“Thank you, but I’m not-” looking for charity is what you want to say. Plus, you shouldn’t accept favors from strange men.

But the handsome man is waving you silent. “I’m cold, plus I’d like to grab a bite to eat before I head home. I don’t like eating alone though, you’d honestly be doing me a favor.”

You take a moment to process. Is he telling the truth? He sounds like an honest guy.

“Seems like the only place open around here is “Joe’s 24 hour Diner”.... You mind burgers?”

So that's how you end up in a booth opposite the man (”Shouto” he had told you as you both headed to the diner), munching away at warm food. It tastes so good, you hardly have time to worry about the man watching you as he eats.

You’d been shocked at his looks the moment you’d seen him in the light of the diner. Pretty two-toned hair, different colored eyes, perfect skin, expensive clothes. Why was he even talking to you? It’s obvious the two of you led very different lives.

“How does everything taste?”

“Delicious.” Is your response, and Shouto seems pleased, nodding before taking another bite of his meal.

Maybe it’s stupid... but you feel weirdly safe with this man. He doesn’t seem to bear any ill-intent towards you, nor has he made any comments about your body or let his hands or eyes stray. He seems like a gentleman.

Conversation flows easily between the two of you, even sharing a few chuckles at times. He’s some fancy rich businessman, you learn, and you share about your own life, laughing at the comparisons. Shouto can’t fathom growing up in a house with less than five bedrooms and a personal servant.

He asks for your number, and you’re hesitant in giving it - he surely can’t be interested in you? But he seems so sincere, it’s hard to say no.

When the two of you part ways, Shouto gives you a wave, “Hope to see you again soon, and under better circumstances.”

“You too! And sorry for being such a mess and stopping your walk-”

Shouto shrugs, cheeks beginning to pink from the cold air as you two stand outside the diner. “You needed help. I like to assist.”

-----

The next morning you wake to find an atrociously large sum deposited in your Venmo account by none other than a Shouto Todoroki.

Immediately, you’re calling him. “It’s too much, we just met. How can you give away that much money to some low-life?”

You hear him sigh on the other end of the phone. “You’re obviously struggling. I was wondering what your hours are this week, perhaps we could talk about this over dinner? Or lunch, if that fits better with your schedule. I’m flexible.”

It’s a few days later, days spent questioning yourself, questioning his intentions, before you see him again, both of you deciding to meet for lunch to further discuss... whatever had just happened.

“Was what I gave you adequate to cover your rent?” Are the first words out of Shouto’s mouth after you greet each other.

“Yeah, more than enough-” You squirm. “But I need to ask.... why?”

“Why?”

“Why me.”

“Oh.” Shouto’s expression clears. “That’s easy. I told you a few days ago - I like to assist. I’m quite lonely, and it feels nice to use my money on someone other than myself. I think providing for someone brings me... I wouldn’t quite say joy, but... contentment.”

You contemplate his answer for a moment.

“Well... you saved me with my rent, I don’t really know how to thank you.”

The man leans forward. “Well.... I know it might be a bit sudden, but how would you feel accepting me as a.... benefactor of sorts?”

“You mean like a sugar daddy?” Is your immediate, blurted response. You want to slap yourself for speaking before you have the chance to think about your words, but luckily Shouto just lets out a light laugh.

“If you’d like to call it that. I’m willing to provide financial assistance for you, in exchange for companionship, if you’re willing to give it.”

Your face heats up as you drop your eyes, fidgeting nervously in your seat. “I don’t feel comfortable with a... a sexual relationshi-”

“That’s perfectly acceptable.” Shouto cuts you off before you can continue. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate a contract of that nature. I’m thinking more along the lines of accompanying me at meals, sharing experiences with me, providing company and friendship to a lonely man. If it seems that we’d like to progress further than that after we get to know each other, well, that will be addressed then. For now-” Shouto meets your eye, dipping his head a smidgeon so he can look at you directly. “All I ask for is a simple, non-intimate bond between two people.”

This is crazy.

And yet you accept.

The situation may be wild, and completely absurd, but you’d be a fool not to say yes.

Shouto is charming and handsome, respectful, courteous - you could go on and on about his positive qualities. He just seems like a sad, lonesome man swallowed by work and responsibilities, too stressed and busy to put the effort into making friends the conventional way.

-----

Months pass by.

You’re eating at every meal, sated and never going hungry. You’re able to move into a new place, one that doesn’t smell like cigarettes and sits right next to a railroad.

Clothes aren’t a worry anymore, you have your own washer and dryer in your new apartment (Shouto offered to buy you a house, or a penthouse at the least, but you couldn’t justify it to yourself). You’re able to afford new things, and pretty dresses, shoes that are comfortable and fashionable and that fit.

You no longer have to wear clothes down until they have holes in them. You’re able to go to the doctor’s when you feel sick, able to pay for health insurance.

Life is good.

Shouto is a personable man, serious, but he can be rather funny and even crude at times.

The doubt and thoughts of “Why is he doing this for me?” and “I’m not good enough for this.” plague you, but Shouto always seems to catch on, reassuring you that you’re exactly what he needs - a friend.

And you’re more than happy to be that.

You think sometimes, that even if he wasn’t paying you, you’d still like to be friends with Shouto Todoroki.

Until he starts acting weird.

“You should just stay at my place. I have more than enough room,, it’d be easier for both our schedules. We’d get to see each other more often.”

“Uhm...” You don’t really know what to say. You like your freedom, and having your own place where you can walk around in your (expensive) underwear without being bothered.

“I think it’d be nice, don’t you? We could have breakfast every morning, you wouldn’t have to worry about traveling to and fro, we could spend more time together. We don’t see each other nearly enough.”

He’s pushing, insistent. How are you supposed to tell him no? He’s paying for your entire life. Plus, it wouldn’t be that bad to actually live with him. Shouto’s an amicable man.

So you move in.

“I bought you a few things, they’re on your bed.”

Shouto’s striding into the kitchen where you’re making coffee, buttoning up his shirt as he comes closer. You’ve found that the man likes to sleep in nothing but boxers, shrieking and flushing an embarrassing shade the first time he’d come to wake you up with a sweet “welcome” breakfast in bed.

It’s taken a while to adjust, but you finally feel that you’re fully settled in.

“Oh, you really don’t ha-”

“I wanted to. I went through your closet - your clothes are nice, but your underwear seemed to be lacking.” He’s so matter-of-fact.

All you can do is stare at the back of his head.

“Could you pass me a spoon please?”

-----

Shouto had splurged on expensive, fancy lingerie.

At least eight different sets were laid out on your bed. It was overwhelming. It also felt.... a bit intrusive? They were all in your size, in a complementary color for your skin tone.

Weird.

Not as weird as the onset of Shouto’s casual touches.

You’d be reading, or drinking tea and watching cars race by on the street so far below, and Shouto would come up behind you, caress your sides before intertwining his fingers with yours on one hand. He did it as if it was a normal thing, but it felt anything but normal.

Or you’d be on the couch together, and Shouto would shuffle closer until his large body was pressed to yours, almost curled around you. The faux-cuddling was a bit more off putting. How do you tell him no?

The touches became more and more intimate, Shouto’s gifts more and more frequent until you weren’t even spending a penny, the man taking care of everything.

The arrangement was beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Shouto’s bi-colored eyes seemed to always be on you, tracing the shape of your body, watching you move, or breath, or sit. It was distracting, and you felt bad for feeling this way towards the man who’d pulled you out of poverty, but it was so unnerving.

He seemed to notice.

“You’ve been so stressed these past few days. Is something wrong?” Shouto’s rubbing a hand into your shoulder, hovering over you at the dinner table.

“No?” Is all you can manage, wiping your hands on your napkin as you finish your food.

Shouto frowns. With a sigh, his hand drops from your shoulder and the man leaves your side, heads toward the kitchen.

You clear your plate from the table, following after him so you can wash it and put it in the dishwasher before you head off to get ready for bed.

But Shouto is rummaging in a cupboard, pulling down two wine glasses to accompany the bottle of wine that’s standing proud on the island. It’s your favorite, a sweet wine that Shouto knows you like, always brings it out when he decides to drink whisky or bourbon after dinner.

He pops the cork and pours you a glass while you finish with your dishes, handing you the glass when you turn away from the sink, pressing it into your hands. “Let’s relax a little bit, it’ll be good for both of us.”

You’re fine with that, knowing that a little wine won’t hurt you, especially when it’s of such fine quality. You’d never dreamed that you’d be able to taste such richness in your lifetime, spend frivolous amounts of money on wine and fine eateries. Yet here you are.

Shouto pours himself a glass, barely a sip filling the bottom. The man raises it to his lips and takes a swig, grimacing a bit in his flat, unexpressive way. You giggle a little.

“Too sweet?’

The man nods, setting the glass back down. “I’m not entirely sure how you can stand to stomach it. But if it makes you happy-” He shrugs, before pulling on of the bar-stools out from under the island so he can sit facing you, long legs stretching out before him.

You look at him, and he looks at you, and then you take another sip of wine to avoid the awkwardness.

“You’re distancing yourself from me.”

The accusation is quiet, Shouto’s eyes focused on your fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass.

He’s always been straightforward with his words. “Is there a reason you keep drawing away?”

The wine disappears from your glass, sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You fill your glass again before speaking, struggling to find the right words without upsetting your... benefactor.

“Well, Shouto... I don’t really know how to...” You trail off, hoping Shouto will say something, change the subject, say it’s alright and move on to something else.

But the man stays silent, eyes appraising you.

Taking a deep breath, and another gulp of sweetness, you try again.

“Sometimes the closeness... like, physical closeness? Makes me, well, uncomfortable.”

Hopefully, that would satisfy his curiosity for now. That wasn’t the only reason you’d been avoiding Shouto seeming distant, but you didn’t think sharing the others would result in anything good.

Said man accepted your response, dropping his eyes to his lap as he mulled it over. More wine was consumed, glass re-filled. You felt nervous.

“You’re saying that my touch isn’t something you’d prefer.”

Biting your lip, you soften at his confused expression, at the hint of sadness swimming behind his eyes. “Kind of. I don’t mind you Shouto, you’re really kind, and you’re good company, and a wonderful friend. I just don’t think the.... the intimacy is for me.”

Shouto raises his head, stares at you with those pretty eyes, lips parted as he comes to terms with your words.

“It sounds like you don’t trust me. I would never hurt you, you know this.”

You scramble to assure him. “I do! I do trust you, and I know you wouldn’t.” (at least you hoped) “But I guess I just... Coming into this agreement I wasn’t ready for that type of... thing. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

The man rises, shakes his head as he steps closer to you. “Don’t worry, I remember our first conversation about that aspect. I see that for you, that type of relationship would only begin after you really cared for the other person, trusted and wanted to see them happy, am I correct?”

“Oh, Shouto-” You rush. “No, I care for you, and I trust you, and of course I want to see you happy. I think it’s just, y’know, my last relationship like that went really bad, and it sucked. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Shouto nods, understanding. “I see. You don’t have to worry about any of that with me then.”

A smile crosses your face, and you feel relived that he accepted your rejection with grace and understanding instead of violence or anger. “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”

The mood of the room shifted, from tense and uncomfortable, to easy and light, and you poured another glass of wine, laughing a little at how worried you were about the conversation with Shouto, only for it all to turn out fine.

“I’m going to go drink some of the liquor that’s kept in my room. I could mix a few drinks for you to try, you might like how sweet they are. I know hard alcohol isn’t quite your thing.”

You beam a smile, nodding your head eagerly. Before, you’d feel apprehensive about going into his room with him to drink alcohol. But with the conversation the two of you just had, you knew - things would be fine.

-----

The room was spinning and you felt giddy and light. You were definitely tipsy.

“You can lay down on my bed, you’re getting wobbly on your feet.” Shouto had offered, and you’d gladly accepted, flopping down onto his comfy bedspread with a laugh at how the motion made butterflies rise in your tummy.

Shouto leaned against his dresser, swirling whiskey in his glass as he watched you, a half-smile across his face. You smiled back, before closing your eyes, a little bit tired as you realized that you might be a bit more than just tipsy.

Shouto had mixed quite a few drinks for you, and you’d drank each one eagerly, impressed with how little alcohol you could taste in each one. You don’t remember how many you had, but it didn’t really matter.

The next thing you know, hands are on your waist, scooting you further up the bed so your legs no longer hang off the edge. Cracking open an eye, you’re met with the visage of red-and-white, eyes soft and warm as they regard you, Shouto’s face tinged a bit pink from the few drinks he had consumed. The man had never been too good at holding his alcohol.

When those hands started to slip beneath your shirt, you wiggled like a little worm, not really comprehending the situation. Maybe it was a dream.

Your shirt was discarded, then your pants. It felt much more comfortable now, and you mumbled a “thanks” to the man helping you settle for bed. He was so nice, Shouto took such good care of you. You still kind of couldn’t believe the turn your life had taken with him, the good luck pushed into your path.

Someone was kissing you.

With a grunt of surprise, you kissed them back, meeting their feverish pace and trying to keep up, soft lips puckering and pushing against your own with intent. Kissing felt good. You liked kissing.

Then a hand was cupping your face, stroking tenderly over your cheek before it began sliding down, down your neck, into the valley between your breasts, trailing over your bra. It felt funny.

Pushing back for air, you gasped when the hand on your chest started squeezing at you, eyes flying open with the startling, sudden sensation.

Shouto was hovering over you, lips puffy, panting as he stared at you with lusty eyes, an uncharacteristic look on his face. This... this wasn’t supposed to be like this. You knew. Hadn’t the two of you just talked about something... important? Was it important?

You didn’t feel panic until a hand cupped your sex, feeling your skin through your panties.

This wasn’t right.

Alarm bells were ringing, dull and far away, but you didn’t think that Shouto should be touching you in such a way. you should be going to bed.

“Mm, Sho, can you stop?” But your words felt funny on your tongue, and Shouto didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t hear you.

His hair tickled your chin as the man bent to mouth at your tits, pulling the cups of your bra underneath them so he could feel your hot skin, let his saliva drag slick and wet against your chest.

Your hands instinctively rooted themselves in his hair as you gasped again, not expecting such a move, tugging lightly at his head to pull him up. Shouto just groaned, teething gently at your breasts and not moving an inch. His hips were grinding against the bed though, as he stood between your spread legs.

Before you knew it, your panties were gone, bra clumsily unclasped and discarded, and you were completely bare. Shouto was undressing before you, struggling with the buttons on his shirt before giving up, easily ripping the fabric of his body with one tug, grumbling.

You didn’t feel so tipsy anymore.

“Shouto, what’re we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, we need to stop-”

“Stay down.” Was his firm command, a hand splayed across your naked chest and pushing you back into the mattress as you tried to sit up. It made you breathless, the growl in his voice, the dominance emanating from the man. You stayed still.

“This’s gonna make us a stronger couple.” The man slurred, eyes dark and hands wandering, effortlessly keeping you pinned against the bed as he ground his hips forward against the edge. You were getting scared.

“Wait-”

You fell silent as one hand pushed down his pants, his underwear going with them, pink cock bobbing free. He was so pretty down there, and it made sense, all of him was pretty, but you suddenly realized the weight of the situation, what was happening.

“Shouto, no, oh my god. We gotta stop right now, we’re drunk, we’re-we’re-”

“Don’t care. Not gonna let you hide away from me this time.” Shouto shook his head, taking his cock in one hand and giving it a long, slow pump, flushed tip weeping precum and wetting his hand.

“No, no, this is wrong. I don’t want this, I could get pregnant!” You cried, beginning to panic for real, pushing against the one strong hand anchoring you to the bed.

Shouto just chuckled, letting go of his cock to crowd against you, getting up in your face to press a wet finger to your lips, the salty taste of his precum threatening to slip into your mouth unless you kept it shut. “Shhh, shh. If you stay nice and still, if you do what I say, I’ll use a condom.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You’re gonna listen to me, you always do.” The man nodded to himself, once again dragging his cock against the bed between your legs, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “Or else I’ll fuck you raw.” The finger was pulled from your lips, only to be wagged teasingly in your face.

You couldn’t believe how he was acting.

“Be nice.”

Shouto tapped your nose with a neatly manicured finger, before groaning as he heaved himself upright, red cock bobbing against his stomach, desperate for attention. The man gave you a look, as if to say “don’t move” before he took his hands off you, heading for his dresser.

Once you saw him pulling out a strip of condoms, you were on your feet, stumbling toward the door.

Although panic had sobered you somewhat, you were still struggling with the effects of the alcohol, so your reaction time was maddeningly slow. Slow enough that you weren’t able to truly fight against Shouto when he grabbed you from behind toned arms wrapping around your middle and heaving you into the air, only to throw you back on his bed.

You were almost sick on the bedspread, world spinning and stomach protesting, but you were able to calm yourself.

But then Shouto was on you, flipping you onto your back, a soft hand pressing against your throat threateningly.

“You want to have a baby? Want me to cum in you so you’ll get all fat with kids? Hm?” He was so intense, almost choking you, straddling your waist and keeping you pinned. It was too much

You were able to manage a tearful, desperate “No!” despite the hand around your throat, and Shouto backed off, releasing the pressure to instead stroke his hand against the sides of your neck.

“Stop acting like this, it’s the next logical step for us. You said you cared for me, wanna make me happy. This’ll make me happy. I won’t be like the last guy.”

His cock was pressed against your stomach, and you could feel it twitching. Shouto clambered off of you, letting go of your neck so he could grab the condoms he’d tossed on the bed before snatching you up.

“Do what I say and I use these.” He waved them in your face before tearing one off, beginning to open it.

You stayed still, gazing at him blearily, limbs feeling fuzzy, mind feeling the same.

The condom was rolled onto Shouto’s cock, the man spitting into his palm and giving the latex a few rubs to make it slick before reaching for you.

He dragged you to the edge of the bed - the perfect height for him to fuck you - and you didn’t fight, terrified of his threat. You couldn’t stand the thought of a baby.

(You didn’t know, but neither could he)

“Wanted to do this since I met you.” Shouto mumbled, pushing your panties to the side with a few fingers so he could guide his tip to your hole. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t know what to think of this side of Shouto. This unreserved, uncareful, slurring mess of a man that loomed before you, gaze dark and wild, limbs everywhere as he groped and squeezed and appreciate the shape of your body.

But he must’ve gotten impatient, because then he was pushing inside.

It hurt, stinging pain rippling up your back and you keened, causing Shouto to pause. One of his hands darted down to wrap around your calf, hauling it up on the bed so he could lean forward and press it to you chest, sinking his cock a few inches deeper.

“You’re gonna take it.” He hissed before messily kissing you, pressed so close together that it was hard to breathe. “I’ll make it feel good after you do.”

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idy-ll-ique · 4 years ago

Text

They Always Do.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: insecurity

Requested: Nope

Summary: "you're not worried? he seems to be spending a lot of time with her..." "no" "why not?" "because i braced myself for this months ago. they leave, they always do. it's nothing new"

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! The first part of this fic is fluff, angst in the middle, fluff again at the end. Nothing too extreme, just a little one-shot. Enjoy!

---

"Sebastian, Y/N, so glad you made it!" Susan Downey smiled warmly at the couple. "Of course, we couldn't miss the 56th birthday of the one and only Iron Man," Sebastian chuckled, walking into the house with his girlfriend. He put his arm around Y/N, observing the place. "Guys! Hello!" they heard.

"Mr Downey," Y/N greeted politely, turning to smile at the birthday boy. "You must be the girlfriend," he grinned, pulling her into a bear hug. "Yep, that's me." Then he turned to Sebastian, frowning. "Why didn't you introduce her to everyone sooner?" Y/N laughed as Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging.

"Don't ask me, she was the one too chicken to meet you!" Sebastian defended himself, narrowing his eyes at his girlfriend. She snorted as Robert let go of her, returning to Sebastian's side. "I guess that's on me," she sighed dramatically, making both men laugh. "Well, enjoy yourselves! Have a drink, have fun!"

With that, he walked away. Sebastian noticed a server holding up a tray of drinks and called him over. He handed a glass to Y/N and took one for himself, taking a sip. "Thanks for bringing me over, honey," Y/N smiled and he turned to her, scoffing. "You're my girlfriend! God knows they were dying to meet you," he laughed, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

With that they went around the place, talking to new people, old friends and making new acquaintances. Y/N had a lot of fun meeting Sebastian's co-stars, and especially loved Elizabeth Olsen. Y/N was a huge Marvel fan and one of her favorite works of the MCU was WandaVision. Y/N had fangirled a bit, not gonna lie.

Like that passed an hour. After her feet started hurting, Sebastian decided it was time for the woman to sit down, have a drink and chill out. "Okay doll, here's a glass of champagne, if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to call me, okay? I'm going there, with Chris and Anthony. I love you." She smiled when he gave her a quick kiss.

"I love you too, and don't worry, I'll find you easy. This place isn't that big."

"I heard that!"

Laughing at her antics, Sebastian gave his girlfriend one more loving kiss before prancing out of the room in search of his best friends, Chris Evans and Anthony Mackie. Y/N relaxed on the comfortable couch with a sigh, sipping on her drink. It all began a year ago, very cheesily, might I add.

Y/N was at her favourite coffee shop when he had walked in. Immediately, fans had him surrounded, but she didn't go over to him. She stayed seated, looking at him, wishing she could go over but she knew how stressful fan interactions were for celebrities. Sebastian had, unfortunately, caught her eye and she had turned beet red, burying her face in her laptop.

He had found her absolutely winsome and after the crowd around him had dissipated, he had wandered over to her table and introduced himself. She was flustered around him, which made him tingly inside. And he had blurted out, "Wanna meet here next Saturday at 7?" They kept their promise and that's how they started dating.

A year ago.

That was a healthy amount of time.

Right?

Y/N couldn't help but have her doubts. All her previous relationships were pathetic failures, where the guy usually got bored of her within 3 months. But now, she had braced herself for rejection (which she knew deep down wasn't coming but it pays to be careful). "Hey."

Startled, she turned to see a kinda young, kinda drunk woman sitting next to her, looking up at her with doe eyes. "Hi," Y/N smiled back politely. "You're— you're the woman!" She had started slurring her words, which made Y/N frown a bit. "I'm… what?" she blinked. "The girl! Who came over with Sebastian Stan, you're his girlfriend!" The woman laughed loudly.

A few heads turned towards them but quickly looked away when they realized that the girl was drunk. "Yep, that's me. Why?" Y/N was now amused. As they talked, she didn't notice Sebastian walking into the room. He had come back to ask Y/N something but had paused in his tracks when he saw her frowning at the young, drunk woman.

Then he inched closer, unabashedly eavesdropping on her conversation. "Yep, saw him spending a lot of time with Ms Lizzie Olsen. If he was mine, girl, I would take that man home and show him who truly belongs to him, if you know what I mean," the girl winked and a sad smile bloomed on Y/N's face. "They're good friends, of course they're gonna spend time together."

Sebastian smiled at her answer. He knew she was different, she didn't get easily jealous and he liked that, since it reduced the number of arguments they had by a lot. His jealousy? Well, that's a story for another time… "You don't mind? He seems to be spending a lot of time with her…" the drunk woman frowned at Y/N.

Well, she was drunk, she wouldn't remember this night anyway, so maybe… it would be good to get some things off her chest.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I braced myself for this months ago. They leave, they always do. It's nothing new," Y/N admitted, swirling the champagne that was swimming in her half-full glass. Sebastian's heart shattered into a million pieces at her words. Before the words were even completely out of her mouth, tears had started stinging in his eyes.

"Y/N?" Startled yet again, Y/N turned to see Sebastian smiling at her. "Seb! Hi, thought you were with your friends!" she grinned at him. "I— uh— something came up, we need to go," he spoke quietly, fidgeting with his hands. Y/N's brows furrowed but she got up, collecting her coat and her purse.

"Can we at least say Happy Birthday to Robert?"

"Yeah, yeah of course." Sebastian managed a weak smile when she gave him a kiss on the cheek, going off to find Robert and Susan. She told them something urgent came up and they allowed the couple to leave. "Seb, let's go!" He followed her out of the house, meekly trailing behind her, the words she said ringing in his ears.

They leave, they always do. It's nothing new.

How had this woman, practically a Goddess, had such bad experiences that she was forced to think that way? He was never going to leave her, having found the perfect woman at last. He got into the driver's seat of his car, and the car ride home was quiet. Y/N was getting anxious. What happened to him? Did something happen at the party?

Once they were home, Sebastian couldn't help himself. "S—" Y/N yelped when he crushed her to his body, hugging her tightly. He took both of them to their shared bedroom, sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled her on his lap and buried his face in her chest, breaking down. "Seb, honey, what's wrong?" Y/N cooed, getting insanely paranoid.

The crying didn't stop for 15 minutes. Y/N, in a futile attempt to get him to stop, was running a hand through his hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, holding him close. When he took in a shuddering breath, he pulled away and finally looked Y/N in her eyes. "Now are you going to tell me what happened?" she smiled gently.

He took her hand, pressing a kiss to her wrist. "I'm sorry," he croaked out and Y/N frowned. "Sorry for what?" He shook his head, burying his face back in his safe haven. Except, Y/N wasn't having any of that. She pulled him away and dropped a soft kiss to his forehead. "Tell me what happened."

He took in another shaky breath.

"I… I heard you."

"Heard me?" Y/N blinked. "Yes. You were… you were talking to that girl on the couch and she was— she was talking about how I seem to be spending a lot of time with Lizzie and you— you said you didn't mind but she kept on insisting and you said they leave. they always do. I'm not going to leave you, Y/N, I promise. You're one of the best things that has ever happened to me and I'm not letting you go."

Oh.

"Seb," Y/N whispered, her own eyes now filled to the brim with tears. "Don't cry," he chuckled with a watery voice, wiping her tears off. "It's just— all my relationships before you… the guys were assholes. They always left 2-3 months in. I— I wasn't taking any chances with you, you know… plus, you're kind of a famous guy and you can get so many better women—"

He didn't want to hear it. Better than Y/N? Impossible. He pressed his lips to her, immediately deepening the kiss when she reciprocated. "I promise you, I cannot do any better than you." Y/N smiled shyly at his words and his heart filled with happiness. "Let's go to sleep."

Both of them tired from the crying, they got undressed without trying any funny business. Y/N put on her usual pair of shorts and one of Sebastian's huge t-shirts, getting into the bed where a boxer-clad Sebastian already lay. He pulled her into his arms and she rested her head on his chest, draping an arm around his taut abdomen.

"Comfy?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah. Goodnight, doll, I love you."

"I love you too, Seb. Goodnight."

"...Never gonna leave you."

"Not a chance."

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a like if you liked it!

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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ijustwant2write · 4 years ago

Text

Call Me By My Name-Pietro Maximoff x Powers!Reader

(GIF credit to @dailymarvelposts)

Tags: @bloodorangemoonlight @amirahiddleston

Requested by @husherstan : ‘could you write a one w pietro maximoff? idk if you know about a trend on tik tok where a gf or bf call them partners by they first name. Reader and Pietro are enemies cuz them both are always trying to be the best of t team, reader calls him by others names and when she (or gn) calls by him real name he was like "why are you calling me like that? whats wrong with you? are you feeling bad today?" (and he likes her so fucking much, a simp)’

Characters: Pietro Maximoff x Reader, Avengers team x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Character has the power of force fields, that both generate electricity and provide protection for them/others)

Warnings: Name calling, bullying, arguing, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“For the last time, watch where you’re going Speedy Gonzales!” I snapped as Pietro almost knocked me over again.

His form whizzed around the room once more before stopping in front of me.“Maybe try keeping up next time.”

I was startled by the force he left behind as he ran off again making a show of circling the entire training room multiple times, creating a small wave of air. I groaned loudly as I went back to jogging. He was such a show off, it infuriated me. We weren’t here to compete against each other, we were supposed to be a team; but when he waltzed around the place boasting about how fast he was, it was really hard not to step up to the plate.

Pietro was running faster than usual, trying to overlap me dozens of times, more than he would have done in a normal session. It got on my last nerve, making me stop, my powers already flowing through my arms. It would be hard to pinpoint him, so I charged up a huge ball of electricity, casting it out harshly. I just managed to catch him, laughing as he yelped out in surprise, being thrown high into the air before landing on the sparring mats. I saw him slowly get up, clearly I had caused some pain. My fun was soon ended as he ran towards me again, having to quickly put up a force field that would protect me. Pietro bounced off it, though I hadn’t put any charge in this one, so he only fell on his backside.

“Enough!” Wanda yelled out, though we still kept our guard up around each other.“Really (Y/N)? You can relax now.”

“I don’t trust him.” I replied.

She sighed.“Come on, Steve wants to talk about the mission.”

“Why? We debriefed three days ago.”

“Something to do with it being on the news.” she shrugged, walking away.

Pietro glanced back at me, looking me up and down before following his sister. However, he didn’t look at me with disgust or anything of the sort, it was almost as if he was checking me out. I tutted at myself, why on Earth would he ever look at me like that?

I wasn’t happy joining the meeting in my sweaty state.Everyone else was dressed and put together, but at least Pietro looked similar. The team was gathered around a table, looking to Steve who was stood at the front, his arms crossed over his chest. He had the look of disappointment on his face, which meant bad news for the rest of us...or whoever was in trouble. With no seats left, I copied Steve’s stance at the back of the room, rolling my eyes when Pietro stood beside me.

“Sorry to call you guys in on such short notice.” Steve started.“But I feel that we have to discuss something that’s starting to effect the team.”

He pulled up a screen showing the news. It had images and videos of our last mission. We were raiding an old factory on the edge of the city, finding a terrorist group hiding out there as they worked on their gadgets. News coverage showed the team fighting from a helicopter view, and we were all confused as to why Steve was showing us this.

“Fastest man alive,” Pietro repeated what the reporter said,“it has a nice ring to it.”

“I wouldn’t put that in your Tinder bio.” I quipped, causing a few chuckles.

Steve looked at me.“And this is why we’re here today.”

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.“What?”

“You and Pietro are always at each other’s throats. It’s...well frankly, it’s exhausting listening to you two arguing all the time. And it could seriously put someone in danger whilst on a mission, even you two.”

“He always starts it-”

Pietro held up a finger.“Hold on, you do too-”

“You’re just proving his point guys.” Natasha spoke over us.

“As I was saying,” Steve brought the attention back to him,“the media has also caught onto this. There’s multiple images of you two clearly arguing, or even getting in each others way during the mission. At one point, you’re both trying to save the same person, but almost miss that chance because you’re so invested in being better than the other!”

Steve was really mad, and from everyone else’s faces, they thought the same thing.

“So until all of this changes, you two are suspended from any missions.”

“What?!” we both exclaimed.

“And you may not approach any other team member for assistance with training.”

“Why are we both being punished?” I demanded to know.

“Oh, do not play the victim here Mrs Incredible!” Pietro snapped.

“Mrs Incredible is super stretchy, it’s the daughter who has the same powers as me, you idiot!”

“See? You’re further showing me that I made the right decision. I felt bad at first, but now I know that this is the right direction to go in.” Steve raised his voice.“You’re both dismissed.”

“Well, what are the rest of you doing?” Pietro dared to ask.

“We are going to go over all the planning we have done for upcoming missions. Everything has to change because of you two. Now please go.”

I held it together as I left the room, not wanting to appear like a toddler stomping away in a tantrum. It was impossible to get away from Pietro, what with him being ‘the fastest man alive’, but I was going to try. I didn’t need another argument right now, I was upset, needed to be alone. Apparently, I wasn’t going to get that.

“Leave me alone.” I warned Pietro as he followed me.

“I can’t believe this! They’ve kicked us off the team because you always have to say something-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“And to think, they’re going to risk not having me on the team. I help them with everything, I’m a crucial part-”

“Pietro!” I shouted, spinning on my heel to face him.

His eyes widened at that, glancing down to my clenched up fists, little electric sparks running over them, before looking me in my teary eyes.

I sighed, relaxing my tense shoulders and hands before leaving. There was no point trying to explain. He wouldn’t understand. We would both get mad, probably fight, the team would have to break us up; I had no energy to do that. Slowly turning away, I was surprised by the silence that followed, Pietro didn’t even follow me.

I checked the time on the lock screen of my phone, seeing that an hour had passed since I fled from Pietro. It also made me realise how dark the room had become, the sun would set in a few minutes. But I didn’t bother turning on any lights, instead leaning back again on the chair. I was sat in an empty lobby, it was a small room, facing the floor to ceiling window that showed the landscape that surrounded the headquarters. Besides just sitting here, I should have distracted myself. Perhaps put on a film, relax after training, something to take my mind off of things. Instead, I decided to sit with my thoughts.

“H-hey.” I heard Pietro quietly say from the doorway.

Looking over my shoulder, I didn’t reply, facing the window again when he began walking towards me. He hesitantly turned on a lamp near us, sitting on the chair beside mine. Pietro also looked out of the window, clasping his hands together for a few seconds before fidgeting. I tried to ignore it, though after an hour of peace and nothingness, it became irritating quickly.

“Can you stop?” I blurted out.“Please?”

“Are you annoyed by everything I do?” he asked.

“Not...everything. I just...doesn’t matter, it’s not like you care anyway.”

“That’s not true.”

“I’m not falling for this Pietro.”

“Why are you saying my name?”

“What?”

“You never say my name. Actually, we never say each others names.”

“And why does that matter?”

“It just feels, it feels serious.”

“I mean, we’ve basically been kicked off the team, so yeah, it’s serious.”

“We’ve not been kicked off the team (Y/N).”

“We could be if we don’t get our act together.”

“It won’t go that far-”

“But it could! I can’t believe how calm you are about the whole thing.” I stood, distancing myself from him.“I’ve worked too hard for this. Imagine what would happen if word got out that I was disbanded from the Avengers because of a tiny argument, with a team member who is so narcissistic that he can’t put others before himself!”

I realised I had began ranting, stopping myself before I said anything else hurtful. But by the look of Pietro’s face, it was already too late.

“I...I’m sorry (Y/N).” he never broke eye contact.“And before you say anything, I mean it.”

“Pietro, I-”

“I can see how much this job means to you.”

“It’s my fault too. I always try to outdo you or challenge you.”

“No, don’t be humble.” he got out of his seat, standing in front of me.“It’s almost always my fault that we argue. And I hate myself for it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m usually very good with the ladies.” he grinned, though it disappeared when he realised it wasn’t time to joke.“But not around you apparently. It’s probably because you’re extremely strong and sure of yourself, and I go for a different type, the polar opposite to you.”

“Pietro, I...um...”

“I was really impressed by you when we first met. It made me nervous actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, all I can do is run really fast.”

“But, you’ve been on much more missions than I have. Doesn’t that say something?” I hung my head.

“Are you crazy? You’re not on those missions because they don’t need you.”

My head whipped up to see his smile drop.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I meant that those missions are for Avengers like me. The ones they can use over and over without worrying about them being too tired for the next one. What I’m trying to say is, you’re too important.”

“I never thought I would say this, but Pietro, you’re an important part of the team too. I always rose to your challenges because I felt I needed to prove something to the others. I was new, then I was accepted after all my relentless training, but when you and Wanda came along, I instantly became old news. And you didn’t even go through the rigorous regimes like I did, so I just assumed you were better than me.”

“It seems we were both wrong about each other. We were going through a lot of effort to outdo the other when we could have saved that energy for...well, anything else really.”

“Yeah. I suppose so.”

Pietro held his hand out.“Truce?”

I smiled up at him as I shook it.“Truce.”

A cheeky smirk appeared as he raised an eyebrow at me.“Let’s not tell the team about this just yet. I feel like there would be a lot of ‘I told you so’.”

“It’s like you read my mind.”

“And another thing.”

I noticed he was still holding my hand, though they were lowered now, and his grip wasn’t as firm.“Yes?”

“Can we start calling each other by our actual names?”

“I mean, I assumed we would anyway.”

“Oh, good. I just...”

“You just?”

“I just like the way it sounds when you say my name.”

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 years ago

Note

I'm sorry but i'm addicted to our boy Spamton- I have a little unique request here. So this takes place where Spamton just moves in the Queen's mansion, he meets the reader and immediately falls for their kind words and gestures. Weeks pass, and he goes to see them, but catches them talking and hanging out with Swatch.. He gets really jealous to the point of changing his style to match Swatch's

"Oh [y/n]! Have You Met Our Newest Guest?"

"Uh, I don't believe-"

"He's An Interesting Addison Who Made A Big Name For Himself! Ohohoho!" Queen laughed joyously, pausing to sip her glass of battery acid. "I Wonder How He Got So Rich...No Matter. As My Peon, I Order You Greet Him......Whenever It's Convenient For You."

"Sure thing. I'll go now." With a respectful nod, you set off to the mansion's guest chambers to meet this newcomer. You've lived here for a long time--and somewhat reluctantly since Queen decided to make you one of her peons one day. But life was actually pretty good.

It wasn't like you had anything better to do, so if she needed someone to help her with plans that..didn't seem all-that urgent, you'll offer your assistance. She let you stay in the mansion for free and never made you do anything if you weren't feeling up to it.

For a tyrannical ruler she was rather kind.

Yet you didn't wanna take advantage of her hospitality, so you'd just listen to whatever she says. And if she wants you to meet this celebrity as part of her endless lists of requests, then you'll happily oblige. But you were eager too since you've seen his face on TV a lot. It felt like an honor.

After wandering the corridors of deactivated puzzles, Mona Lisa-esque portraits, and meticulously-placed pottery, you finally arrived at the guest rooms. You hummed a small tune as you passed by each one, stopping when you noticed one door was open.

Peeking inside, you saw the Addison still setting up things. A phone was tucked between his shoulder and ear as he moved a box whilst rambling to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Yea! I promise I won't let you down, okay? Soon I'll be bigger than ever before! I know I'm already a big shot but....haha, yeah, I shouldn't get carried away. Okay. Right..we'll discuss more of this tomorrow. Thanks!"

After hanging up the phone and returning it to the receiver, he finally noticed you and smiled. "Hey, hey! Haven't seen your face around here yet. But surely you know mine, right?"

"Yeah." You smiled, not wanting to shy away from talking with him. "Spamton, right?"

"Everybody's favorite number-one rated salesman!!" He laughed. "It's good you know me..'cuz soon ALL of Cyber World will know my name! It's a pleasure to meet you...?"

"[Y/n]. I'm one of Queen's peons." You shook his hand politely. The energy that radiated from him was so bright. Just as much as his pearly smile was.

Stepping inside, you glanced around at the luxurious furniture. He definitely got the higher-class rooms, with the addition of a large window that showed the neon green meridians that stretched across the night sky. It was certainly a beautiful view to fall asleep to. "Need help unpacking?"

"Oh--sure!!" At first Spamton seemed surprised by your offer, but he nodded. "If you want, be my guest. And while we unpack, I gotta ask you..how's it being Queen's peon?"

............

Weeks passed, and you've gotten to know Spamton more and more. You realized he was actually a sweet down-to-earth guy all around. Although he was on the phone a lot, he'd make time to hang out with you, so you two became fast friends.

He was truly living the best life. Posters of his car advertisements were littered all over the city, and the Swatchlings attended to his every need. Though one thing was hard to admit, even when it seemed like he had it all:

You were his only friend now that everyone else is intimidated by his status--as they would shy away from conversing with him--and the Addisons, well, abandoned him out of jealousy.

Obviously that made him worry about driving you away, especially when he's on the phone nonstop. But...the fact you've been so kind to him in every word and gesture, treating him like a regular person and not some untouchable celebrity, was quite endearing. Most admired him for his products, not his personality.

Your kindness made him fall for you hard and fast, ever since day one. He wasn't sure if this was a good idea; to let it get in the way of his business.

But what the hell? He was a big shot! He can afford to go a bit bigger and take more risks. Living in this mansion with someone who loved him would be the perfect dream.

There was a much bigger dream that his valued caller insisted he focused on, but that can come later.

So this morning, Spamton set out to find you to address these feelings once and for all. Yet he was rather nervous. Addisons were most confident in selling products, not so much...everything else. But he didn't wanna back down. He kept smiling no matter what.

As he checked inside the color café that he usually frequented, he saw you eating at the table. He noticed you weren't alone but with Swatch, talking and...

Laughing with them?

And just like that, his smile faded much like his hope.

Of course, the head butler had their ways to swoon people. He tried not to think of it as anything more than just their personality. It's just their way to entice returning customers.

That's all...right?

Spamton ducked behind one of the displays, listening in on your conversation to determine if he should proceed or not.

"By the way, we've known each other for a while and..I've always wanted to ask you something.."

"Yes? What is your inquiry?"

He held his breath. This is exactly what he feared. Knowing that you've been here longer, it's obvious you'd be closer to that damn bird-

"Your outfit."

Then he exhaled shakily, relieved. 'What are you getting so worked up for, idiot?' He thought in the back of his mind, but he continued eavesdropping.

"Did the Queen make it or give it to you? It's very stylish and really makes you stand out from the other Swatchlings."

"Ah, in fact I decided this look for myself." Swatch chuckled softly, raising a wing to adjust their glasses. "The tailor did marvelous work with my vision: black suit, tinted glasses. Very fashionable, is it not?"

"It is. I like it a lot."

"Why thank you. I see why our Lady Grace admires you. Just for that compliment, I'll give you a discount on any of our products in the gift shop."

"Should be every day if you ask me." You joked, earning another chuckle from them.

Seeing all of this and the way you two spoke like close friends was a jab in Spamton's heart-shaped object. 'So [y/n] likes people who stand out? Well I can stand out, too..' He thought bitterly as he stormed out of the shop without either of you knowing he was there.

Why should he settle with being a blank-slate Addison like the rest of them? He didn't consider himself one anymore.

Today, he told his valued caller, he was gonna be a whole new person.

It would help him get closer to both of his dreams, but there was only one on his mind now.

............

Later that night as you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock at the door. You huffed in annoyance, assuming Queen needed you for something.

She had a knack for disturbing you at ungodly hours. But knowing better than to ignore her, you went to answer the door anyways-

To some strange black-haired guy in a black suit and white turtleneck sweater.

"Hi, um...can I help you?"

"[Y/n]? It's me."

"....wait....Spamton?"

"Yeah!" The salesman laughed, throwing his arms out and making a pose. "Whatdya think of me now?"

Perplexed, you looked him up and down. He ditched the lime-green pants, instead wearing white trousers. And his hair was slicked back. But what was most peculiar about him were his glasses, tinted with pink and yellow lenses.

Had you not known any better, you would've thought Swatch suddenly shrunk and became robotized.

"Cool but..you kinda look like Swatch a little bit. Was that on purpose?" You mused.

"...haha....yeah uh..funny story. Um.." He dropped the act, losing his trademark grin as he wondered how to explain himself and this sudden transformation. You could tell he wanted to talk inside the room, so you let him in and shut the door.

"I don't recall Queen mentioning any costume contest-"

"It's not a costume." He muttered, uncomfortably rubbing his hands together as he looked at you with sadness. "This is who I am now. The new me."

"..huh? You serious?" When he nodded, you frowned slightly. "I'm confused. You don't look like an Addison anymore-"

"That's the point...! I...I don't wanna be associated with them anymore. I decided to stand out, y'know? If you're gonna be a big shot, ya gotta stand out from the crowd!" He forced a laugh that sounded rather glitchy.

You didn't buy it. It wasn't like him to do this out of the blue.

"Spamton, why imitate Swatch of all people? And why out of the blue like this? I mean..I don't mind if you like their style. But I didn't even recognize you until you spoke."

Try as he might, he couldn't make any better excuses. So seeing that he was cornered made him finally admit his jealousy, overhearing your conversation with Swatch while he was browsing--when he really wasn't, but he didn't wanna come off as creepy.

His voice glitched further due to stress, accidentally blurting out some kind of...flirtatious term as he explained how much you meant to him since day one.

You weren't sure if he meant to say "hot single" on purpose. Though you were flattered that such a famous guy like him...actually had a crush on you, an ordinary Darkner who just fetched the Queen's stick wherever she threw it.

You found it hard to believe he thought of you that way..so you kept your own feelings buried. So to see that it's mutual was a relief, and it made you smile.

Spamton, on the other hand, was stressing the hell out. So much so he didn't even see your smile. He just saw himself being stupid the more he rambled on.

It was such a stupid, stupid reason to get insecure--to the point of changing his entire appearance without warning. All because you were friends with a butler who was doing their job???

How selfish can he get when he already had everything he wanted and more?

When he did acknowledge your small smile, he thought you were holding yourself back from laughing. But you had every right to laugh and call him a joke for thinking this will get your attention.

As he finished talking, he could see your smile fade and huffed. He waited for you to tell him how stupid he looks and to go back to being the plain old Addison you met.

Instead of ridiculing him you...hugged him?

At this point you were sitting on the bed together. Of course yours wasn't as massive as his was, but it was big enough for you two to share.

"Spammy, I'm flattered you like me in that way but...you didn't have to do all of this to get my attention. I promise there's nothing going on between Swatch and I. We're just friends. They're not replacing you or anything."

"I know, it's just.." Taking off the glasses, he set them aside before hugging you tightly, head buried in your chest. "I don't wanna lose the only person in this damn place who makes me feel like myself. Who loves me for me, not my success. And...I-I felt like I had to change something about myself to make sure of that."

"Well..you don't need to change anymore. I love you no matter what you look like."

He blinked, his face turning as red as his cheeks.

You could sense his embarrassment from the way he tensed up in your arms and chuckled, patting his hair softly. "Just..don't feel pressured to change for me..or anybody for that matter, okay? Or at least let me know if you're gonna change things up again."

"You don't think..I look stupid or creepy like this?"

"No. Honestly you look pretty handsome. Black hair suits you well."

Hearing those words made him breathe a small sigh of relief. He nodded and hugged you tighter.

His new looks were staying for good.

#clanask #anonymous #deltarune x reader #deltarune spamton x reader #spamton x reader

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twilightmalachite · 2 years ago

Text

Twin Peaks - division by zero 1

Author: Akira

Characters: Hiiro, Kaoru, Hinata, Yuuta

Translator: Mika Enstars

Proofers: 310mc & feesh

"Hmm? What do you mean, “too”? No way, Hakaze-senpai, did you...!?"

Season: Autumn

Location: Starmony Hall Common Room

That night…

Yuuta: And so, this calls for a family meeting!

Hinata: Yup. We felt that there was no point in continuing from where we were, so we should rethink details, courses of action, and such.

Kaoru: And for some reason, we’re being pulled into your family meeting too...

Anzu-chan can’t enter the Starmony Dorms, and I’m in too deep to have the heart to leave, so now I’m here to accompany you guys.

Hiiro: Heheh, well, we live under not only the same roof, but in the same rooms as well, so I think we count as family in a broad sense![1]

Hinata: Yes, Hiiro-kun said something great once again! You’ve earned 50 Hinata-kun points! There’s somethin’ I like about the way you put things... ♪

Yuuta: Y’know, he’s perfect for you, Aniki—strong and simple. You’re too reckless, you’ll end up breaking anyone who needs to be handled sensitively.

Hinata: Oh no~, you’d even call Onii-tan something like brutish?![2]

Yuuta: It’s not like I’m any different, but I’m talking about how you keep up that act of yours…

Hiiro: Haha, I don’t fully understand what you’re talking about, but I’ve finished preparing our dinner for tonight. Why don’t we continue talking while we eat? Besides, even if nothing else, we all need nourishment to keep living.

Hinata: Thankies! Usually it’s Shiina-senpai makin’ something even if we don’t ask, but he’s on some expedition today, right?

Hiiro: Indeed. Crazy:B is still in a difficult position, so he’s been pretty busy as a chef.

He flew to Alaska because he apparently said he has to gather ingredients for cooking contests and the like.

Hinata: Why Alaska, of all places…? Though considering we’re talking about him, it’s likely he just blurted it out without thinking.

Hiiro: Yeah, Shiina-san tends to say thoughtless things when he’s hungry.

Kaoru: Alright now, I get you guys might not like facing your problems, but let’s talk about ourselves rather than other people, ‘kay?

Though I am a little concerned about Shiina-kun, too. We’ve worked together before, so I feel as if we’re friends.

Yuuta: Personally, I don’t really care about Crazy:B... I’d prefer to not involve myself with them as much as possible. It’d be a problem if they pour poison in me again.

Hinata: But Yuuta-kun, you think that poison is so delicious that you always slurp up every last bit of it!

Yuuta: Zip it...

Anyways, what should we do? I don’t think the idea of whoever wins a showdown between Aniki and I gets to appear on Volcano Island was a bad one by itself, though.

Hinata: Well, it doesn’t seem like the both of us making an appearance is an option, so we can’t really escape choosing which one of us gets to perform. They won’t wait for us to make a decision, either.

Yuuta: Yeah, the program originally had a policy to not let idols appear, so…

If we keep dawdling about some problem, the mere possibility of appearing on the program will likely go up in smoke.

Hinata: If we come to the conclusion that it won’t benefit us in any way, then that’s a way to solve this issue, as well. A wise man keeps away from danger, so we could ignore it, and move on.

Yuuta: But if we do that, it won’t be a good look for us regarding music programs, and even the Vice Prez. Going “Oh, we can’t do it after all” after we’ve already taken something on is just going to make them think, “The hell?”

Hinata: Mhm, not to mention, we practically forced Anzu-san into this mess, so it’s not gonna impress her if we don’t give her anything to come back with.

Actually, never mind, I don’t think anything would change, considering it’s her we’re talking about.

Maybe it’s ‘cuz of my move during the Repayment Fes, but I feel she’s even more stubborn than usual…[3]

The line drawn between idol and producer is starting to feel more like an impassable valley.

Kaoru: Huh, what? Did you do something like confess your love to her at Repayment Fes too, Hinata-kun...?

Hinata: Hmm? What do you mean, “too”? No way, Hakaze-senpai, did you...!?

Kaoru: No no no no, it’s not anything like that![4]

...Ahh, would you look at that! Anzu-chan’s calling me!

Hinata: Don’t change the subject, now~! How’d you propose? “I want to be your Yuuta-kun”, perhaps?!

Yuuta: You would confess like that, wouldn’t you? Do you really think that’ll make someone’s heart flutter?

Kaoru: Okay, quiet down a little! Anzu-chan’s voice is soft and quiet, so it’s hard to hear her over the phone—

Hmm? Ah, yes! I’m talking about the matter with 2wink and Hiiro-kun over dinner right now!

Hinata: Ah~... Did Anzu-san call because she was concerned about us?

Yuuta: Then why is she talking to Hakaze-senpai instead of contacting us directly...?

Does this mean you’re able to talk freely about even more sensitive matters? Congrats to the newly wedded couple!

Kaoru: Don’t tease… She’s genuinely worried right now…

It’s probably just because of what happened at the Setsubun Festival that she’s too nervous about interfering with 2wink directly.

Hinata: That’s gonna affect us forever, huh…

Yuuta: I personally feel like it had to happen, though. But okay, I get it now—she contacted you instead of Hiiro-kun, since he doesn’t know anything about the Setsubun Festival. So it was just a process of elimination.

Kaoru: Uu...! I’m happy she picked me, even if it was only just that…!

Hiiro: Hmm, at this point, even a process of elimination would be okay—we just need to decide who from 2wink will perform.

Kaoru: Yep, that’s why we’re discussing the matter together right now—To find the best way to do that.

Two heads are better than one—And we have four people with us now, so I’m sure we’ll come up with really nice ideas! ♪

Uhyah!? Anzu-chan says “there are five people!”

Should we let her participate in the meeting using HoldHand’s telework function, then?

Yuuta: Oh yeah, there was a function for that, wasn’t there? It was some sort of video call function like Skype’s. Then, let’s go ahead and invite Anzu-san to our room...

Hiiro: I see! Since the dormitory doesn’t allow women, Anzu-san can’t enter, but using data it becomes possible to invade and explore. You found the rule’s blind spot, huh?

Kaoru: Yep. I doubt we’d be allowed to do this in private rooms, of course, but this is a shared space, so it’s okay. ...Oh, it’s connected!

Hinata: Heheh~! Welcome to the rumored men’s dormitory! ♪

Yuuta: Ahaha, good evening, Anzu-san~! ♪ Are you at home right now?

Kaoru: Ggh, Anzu-chan looks so cute in casual wear...!

Wait, is that... is Anzu-chan in her room right now?

Oh right, you commute to ES from your home, right? I-Is this really alright for me to see?!

Yuuta: Get a hold of yourself, Hakaze-senpai. What happened, I thought you were supposed to always be reliable...?

Hinata: Hehe. But y’know, I’m happy. There’s all sorts of people thinking of us. It’s not just the two of us anymore.

Yuuta: But that’s also what makes it so hard. We can’t be burdening the people around us...

Though that doesn’t mean I want to return to that simple mindset where it’s just you and I, and everyone else are our enemies…

Hinata: Yeah, especially since we now have to fight amongst ourselves. I doubt we would’ve been able to survive this.

← prev | story directory | next →

Another reference to Ainu culture! Unlike large historical Japanese families, Ainu families would live on a single plot of land among one another, and reside in a single house. For example, upon marrying into a family, that person would move onto their land and into their house. If a couple had children, the house would be expanded to make room, so on and so forth.

The return of “Atai Hinata!” Refer to last chapter’s TL note.

Referring to the Repayment Festival of the previous year, Hinata made a subtle move towards Anzu, asking her if she had a crush on any of the idols in Yumenosaki. She responded firmly that a producer/idol relationship is unprofessional and she cares about her work, as well as her idols, very much. This caused Hinata to feel upset, nearly accusing her of “treating her idols as a mere job”, because Anzu had decided to keep a distance with her idols despite having previously encouraged Hinata not to keep a distance. Looking back, he recognizes it was a cruel emotional outburst of his.

It is.

#twin peaks #yuuta #hinata #kaoru #hiiro #event #translation

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years ago

Text

Play Dates (S.R.)

Summary: Reader finds out Spencer hasn’t had enough dates to play Best/Worst Date with the team and offers several Play Dates, but quickly realizes it’s hard to have a bad date with Spencer Reid. Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: Mutual pining, kisses Word Count: 7.8k

MASTERLIST

Every single friend knows that the easiest way to feel bad about yourself is to put yourself in a conversation with a bunch of happily-coupled people. It’s the perfect blow to the ego every single time.

For example, when you are sitting around a table with all of your work colleagues sharing terrible pizza, do not, under any circumstances, ask them about their dating stories. Because no matter how interesting you think your dating life might be, the stories always end the same for the single friend.

‘It didn’t work out.��

Your friends, though, will always have the funny stories. The kind with happy endings. Not you, though. You’re just sad and alone.

Okay, that’s a little bleak. Truthfully, it was fun listening to my coworkers talk about their best, worst, and favorite dates with their partners or spouses. As members of the BAU, they had no shortage of stories about bad timing; it was practically a job requirement. And they seemed entertained enough by my horror stories. Out of all of us, I actually think I talked the most, which was strange, because there was someone else present at the table who normally took on that role.

“What about you, Reid?” I finally gathered the courage to ask, hoping that he might give me an excuse to not further embarrass myself.

But the boy wonder seemed to be a million miles away, and when he heard his name, he only barely registered I was talking to him at all.

“Hm? What about me?” he asked, absently stirring more sugar in his mug.

“Best, worst, and favorite date?”

“I don’t think I really have any,” he admitted with a shrug. It was the kind of dismissal that hid a mountain of insecurities. I know because it was precisely the same one that I had given several times during the conversation.

“Were they all really that boring?” I pushed, trying to find something, anything, for him to talk about.

“No, just... nonexistent,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

Thankfully for the two of us, awkward and slightly stupid for having taken part of this conversation at all, Luke chimed in just in time. “I’m telling you, man, you just gotta stop being so married to your job.”

JJ, however, had her own brand of advice.

“Or... you could find someone in it. Here.”

Reid shifted uncomfortably, his throat clearing and his hands shaking ever so slightly as he brought his mug to his lips. He was buying time to come up with some excuse. I didn’t blame him. After all, if we were talking about inter-bureau dating, there was only one other single person in the room.

“I think the selection pool here is a little scarce,” he explained.

But then I realized something. There was only one other single person in the room. A person with time to kill and fun company to be made. A person that I greatly enjoyed spending time with, and a person that I could have a happy ending with. Not necessarily falling in love and having babies and all that — just a friend. A friend who’d never had an experience with something that I carried only tainted memories of.

Reid and I were the only two single people in the room, and he couldn’t play the game. Yet.

“I’ll do it!” I blurted out into the group that had already breached another topic of conversation.

Reid turned to me with a look of pure confusion, his hands hugging the cup closer to his heart as he replied, “… W-What?”

One glance around the room revealed that everyone else had a similar thought. Of course, I realized then that they couldn’t actually read my mind or hear the thoughts I’d been pondering over.

“Oh, calm down everyone,” I mumbled, sinking into my chair in defeat for just a second before I forced my back straight again. Reid was still watching me when I continued, “I just meant that we could go on practice dates like... test runs.”

They were all still staring at me. So, naturally, I deflected with a bit of a joke.

“A play date, if you will,” I announced with a wave of my hand in Reid’s direction. Even if it hadn’t worked, it would have been worth his tiny little smile that he quickly hid with a pout. But of course it had worked, because it was hilarious.

“Oooh, that was clever!” Emily excitedly interjected.

“Thank you.”

While everyone else seemed to accept my explanation, Reid was still stuck in place. I could practically hear his heartbeat through the pulse in his now very red neck. Part of me felt a little guilty to do it in front of everyone, but in my defense, I simply hadn’t thought about it longer than it’d taken me to say it.

“Why would you want to go on dates with me?” he asked, and I realized he had also needed to work up the courage.

“Because it would be fun,” I answered nonchalantly before letting a devilish grin grace my lips, “I get to torture you with at least one intentionally terrible date.”

And in true BAU fashion, I had forgotten that the rest of the group was as equally sadistic as me when it came to teasing. Luke did not miss the chance of a lifetime when he interjected again.

“As opposed to the normal, unintentionally horrible ones.”

But I was ready this time. “Shut up, Alvez. I’ll kill you,” I threatened, quickly pointing the plastic butter knife in his direction only to find he was already halfway out the door.

“Fine,” he sang, “We’ll leave you two alone to plan your date.”

It only took seconds for the rest of the room to clear, leaving a mortified Reid and a deeply regretful me alone together. Well, ‘regretful’ sounds mean. It wasn’t like I wished I hadn’t said it, I just wished that I hadn’t said it in front of the rest of the team, who would now be expecting a story from both of us.

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” I offered to the man now rocking back and forth on his feet and tapping his finger against the mug.

“It’s fine. I’m not uncomfortable,” he blatantly lied.

“You’re bright red.”

Reid cleared his throat and averted his eyes in two of his most obvious tells. Then, just to be sure that I knew for a fact he was lying, his voice jumped an octave as he squeaked, “I said I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Okay, well…” If he was going to be like that, it just made me feel bad. Like I was forcing him to hang out with me. God, I was lonely. And pathetic on top of that, if the only way I could get someone to hang out with me outside of work was to bully my coworker into it. I stood with a sigh, passing by him with a forlorn smile as I told him, “You can just forget it if you want.”

But then he finally moved, his arm shooting out and grabbing hold of mine before either of us moved another inch. “Hey, wait!” he called as if the grip wasn’t enough. Just as quickly as he’d gripped me, he released me again. With small, forceful bursts of breath, his tongue tied in his mouth for a moment longer. Then, in the quiet of the conference room, he mumbled back a familiarly pathetic response.

“... What kind of ‘play dates’ are you considering?”

My eyes lit up as I replied, “They’d be a surprise.”

“Even the bad ones?” Reid winced, which earned the first laugh from me. The tension and the awkwardness melted into the sound, and soon enough it felt just like it always did when we were together.

Comfortable. Fun. Safe.

“Yep,” I said with a pop of my lips, “Are you up for the challenge?”

“I feel like I’m going to regret my answer either way,” he teased.

I took a moment to analyze the space between us. I saw the way his hand that had touched me twitched softly at his side, seeking something else to hold. I felt the tingling of my skin where he had been and heard the rush of blood and the rhythmic metronomes of our hearts as ambient noise.

“All in or fold,” I sang along to the beat, “It’s up to you.”

“Fine. But only because you used a poker metaphor, and you’re terrible at poker,” Reid laughed, “I can definitely beat you at that.”

Already having forgotten about the dates and the dares and the desire, I scoffed, “Only because you count cards, jackass!”

Reid, however, was positively beaming as he passed me. Any sign of nerves had left him and been replaced with an uncharacteristic confidence. Like he’d seen something in that moment that told him everything would work out in his favor. I don’t think it was the poker metaphor, either.

“Let me know when it’s time for our date!” he called from the other side of the door, fleeing before we could change our minds.

“I hate you!” I blatantly lied.

Fairy lights, bed sheets, and a laptop that definitely posed a fire hazard were all the ingredients for the first date night with Spencer Reid. I decided that, no matter how excited I was to take him on an absolutely ridiculously terrible date, it was better to ease him into the experience. Because I mean, most men that dated me ended up leaving even when I meant for them to be good.

And I was nervous. I hated that I was nervous and that I felt like my reputation or my friendship was on the line. This was nothing but a social experiment; a fun way to pass the time. So why did my heart skip a beat when I heard him knocking on my door? Why did I bolt over to it so fast that I almost couldn’t stop in time?

When I opened the door, my heart didn’t change its tune in the slightest. It stubbornly continued the hard, irregular pounding, even as he stepped into my apartment with wide eyes and a goofy grin.

“Oh... wow. What’s all of this?” he asked as if it wasn’t obvious.

“What does it look like?”

Spencer took a minute to fully take in his surroundings before sharing his astute observation. “Pizza and a pillow fort.”

“You hit the nail right on the head,” I chuckled right before the room went quiet. It wasn’t exactly awkward; it was more strange than anything, feeling so comfortable standing in silence with him in my apartment. The only thing I wasn’t really sure of was the social rule for touching him.

If he had been anyone else, I would have wrapped my arm around his and dragged him into the fort in no time at all. But he was… Reid. I couldn’t do that with him. So, we ended up just standing there in the ambient light until he got the courage to ask what he’d clearly been thinking since he walked through the door.

“... you know I can’t fit in there, right? It’s less than half my height.”

I was prepared, having anticipated his rebuttal. Putting my hands up and pointing my fingers like our service weapons, I used the most serious voice I could muster to order, “Then you’d better get down on the ground, Doctor.”

After his third slow blink, I figured he might need some help.

“Get down!” I shouted again, this time through laughter.

“Oh, you’re serious?”

“Would I break out the big guns if I wasn’t?” I asked, prodding him in the side with my two index fingers until he’d finally started to laugh back. I kept going, encouraged by the sound and the knowledge that he was, in fact, ticklish.

“I honestly have no idea,” he answered as he finally dropped down on to the ground.

I took a minute to follow, watching as he nearly slipped on the sheets a total of three times in the five feet of distance. I decided then that the sight of the tall, gangly idiot trying to climb into the pastel assortment was honestly enough for me to count the date as a success.

I figured that he would probably need more convincing, and so for approximately three hours, we watched whatever he wanted. I had sort of expected at least one romantic movie— a foreign one, of course— but that never happened. Instead, we watched a collection of lectures and black and white shorts.

I had more fun than I would ever admit to him. However, I also was already planning on a future date where we would watch everything that I wanted to, which would certainly change the way he viewed me forever. The thought brought me an unimaginable joy all the way up until I realized that I had been planning a date that was never going to happen.

This was, I reminded myself, a one-time thing. Well, a three-time thing. Three dates, three plans, and it would be over. I’d already mapped everything out, so there was no need to plan for any other future with Reid.

So why did I want to?

There were limited opportunities to distract myself in the current situation. The only things, in fact, were a speech on black holes and Reid’s very adorable stomach. He hadn’t even noticed the way his shirt had ridden up as he laid on his side propped up on one arm.

I couldn’t be blamed for my weakness. It was too cute not to touch it. As soon as I did, however, the poor guy almost brought the whole fort crashing down on top of us.

“Stop!” he whined much too loudly for the proximity, “You know I’m ticklish!”

“I do?” Despite his belief, the information was new to me. And now that I had that information, I was going to use it.

“So you’re saying that if I just... do this—”

He recognized his mistake approximately three seconds too late. I was already on the move, throwing myself in his direction with my hands sneaking up his shirt. I hadn’t thought of it until then, that I’d never really heard him laugh. He’d chuckle every now and then, but usually it was short-lived and sort of solemn. But not that time.

There, on a date with me in a poorly constructed pillow fort that was already toppling over, Spencer and I were absolutely lost in a sea of sheets and giggles. At some point, his hands had also found their way to my sides in the mess. The soft, quick rhythm of his fingertips against me didn’t only tickle, it caused a brand new emotion to spark inside me.

That emotion, I realized quickly, was a far more dangerous one.

“Okay, okay!” I shouted, pushing myself away from him and digging my way out of the sheets, “I surrender! You win!”

When he poked his head out from under the sheets, I couldn’t help but laugh at the bird’s nest that had formed on his head in the struggle. While I was busy laughing, that bastard was playing dirty, sneaking his hand through the sheets to grab my thigh when I least expected it.

“Hey!” I shrieked, bursting into another fit of giggles.

Reid just shot a toothy grin, and that worrying feeling of butterflies and danger filled my heart again at the sight.

“It’s not fair, you know,” I said through a pout, “Your hands are bigger than mine.”

I’d apparently forgotten about his competitive side, and a part of me was glad that I had. If I had known he was going to take it so seriously, I might have never started the tickle war in the first place. Then where would we be, if it wasn’t tangled together in bedsheets, reaching through the darkness to find one another?

Oh no, I thought as I realized where we were. Reid seemed none the wiser at what a precarious position we were in. He was too busy gloating.

“I won fair and square, and you know it.”

When I rolled my eyes in response, he pressed forward in his mission to torment me as a result of my surrender.

“What do I get for winning?”

I considered all the different ways I could answer. I thought about what I would do if he was anyone else in this position with me, but my mind went blank. Because the truth was, I couldn’t imagine being there, feeling that way, with anyone else but him. Then the problem became the second train of thought, which were the things I really wanted to say to him.

I was taking too long to answer, and he was waiting with that gentle smile and his hand still resting against the bare skin of my thigh.

“One wish. Anything you want. I’ll make it happen.” I decided that answer was safe enough. At least then whatever he decided would be his decision and not mine. If anything went wrong, he would be the one to blame. Although, in my heart, I knew that I could never hold a grudge against him.

There was a certain innocence about the way he scrunched his face in thought. I don’t think he even noticed the way he tapped his fingers against my leg or the quiet hum that filled the air.

“How about…” he whispered when he finally spoke with a cheeky little grin, “sleeping in a real bed?”

“Oh, thank god. I can’t feel my legs,” I muttered back, beginning the arduous process of freeing us both from the wreckage.

If it had been anyone else, I would’ve taken the suggestion differently. For sure, I would have taken it as a promiscuous proposition and probably kicked the guy out. But there was no way that Reid would mean something so lewd. Especially not on our ‘first date.’

Any lingering concern for that unlikely, but possible, timeline was quickly remedied when he dropped into the bed with me, pulling a pillow between the two of us to form a barrier. I didn’t mind. I sort of appreciated the gesture, despite the way my eyes kept roaming back down to the sight of his hands that had been touching me moments before.

I wondered if he wanted to cuddle, but I was too scared to ask.

“Well, Dr. Re—” I paused. After a few seconds ticked by, I tried a new name, instead, “Spencer.”

A dopey smile crept over his features that he tried to hide by biting down on his lip.

“Well, what?” he whispered back.

Shimmying closer to him, I tried to stop myself from getting excited at the way my heart beat harder when his arm around the pillow brushed up against my own. It was impossible to tell if it was only in my mind, but I swore he moved closer, too.

“Here we are,” I sighed happily, “You’ve managed to get me in bed with you on the first date.”

The innuendo was, only a little surprisingly, not lost on him. He clearly took it as more of a tease than I’d intended, but he managed to keep up the lighthearted tone.

“Funny. I’m pretty sure this isn’t what that means,” he responded.

“No?”

“Pretty sure.”

The both of us were laughing again, and my legs started to sweep through the sheets like magnets to metal. They didn’t stop until I’d found him. My toes pressed against the fabric of his mismatched socks he’d insisted on wearing, and that only made me laugh more.

“This is nice, too, though.”

I hadn’t realized I’d said it out loud until Spencer had already responded, “Yeah, it is.”

Together, we soaked in the moment and the little body heat available in the two points of contact. The footsie under the covers wasn’t in my original plan for this date, but I was willing to be flexible. Especially when he seemed so happy about it, his eyes bouncing back and forth from the pillow back to my eyes.

“Better enjoy it while it lasts, Spencer,” I slurred sleepily, “Considering next is gonna be the worst date.”

His response wasn’t what I expected. It wasn’t even the words that surprised me. It was the fact he was so undeniably genuine when he answered, “Oh, I can’t wait.”

Convinced that he’d misjudging my level of cruelty, I moved closer when I dramatically opined, “You’re gonna hate it.”

“I think it’ll be alright,” he murmured shyly, the words barely recognizable from the way he buried his face halfway into the pillow, “It can’t be that bad if you’re there.”

Then I watched as the idea hit him, his head shooting up from the pillow and his hand reaching out to grab my arm in sheer panic as he asked, “Wait— you are going to be there, right?”

It was mean to laugh at his imagined horror, but there was simply no way I would be that cruel. “It would be cheating if I stood you up!” I pointed out, bringing my hand up to my chest in my own dramatic flair, “I’ve got to make it terrible by sheer force of will, not by shortcuts.”

“Good luck, then. You’re going to need it,” Spencer replied with a playful glimmer in his eyes. He wouldn’t let me forget his competitive side anymore, but he wasn’t the only one that liked to win.

“Game on.”

The air was tense but crisp with autumn coolness. Almost every muscle I could see on Spencer was tensed, and even with the chill, I swore I saw a bead of sweat on his brow.

“Okay. I believe in you. Do you trust me?” I asked, bringing my hands together in a loud clap that was meant to distract him. It only sort of worked, with the tension leaving him to nearly collapse in a mess of self-pity.

“Not really,” he answered honestly.

“Come on, Spencer! You trust me not to get you shot on a daily basis!”

Unfortunately, even my whines weren’t working, and Spencer abandoned his cause altogether as he turned to me with a cold seriousness and said, “These stakes are much higher.”

I turned to him, then back to the toy crocodile in a fake pond that led to a miniature lighthouse. I gave him a deep sigh and what I’d hoped would be a reassuring pat on the back, but it really just seemed to make him even more nervous.

“Spencer, it’s mini golf,” I deadpanned, “The only people who can witness your humiliation are 12.”

“12 year olds are very mean,” he started before I swiftly cut him off with a much louder, “Just swing!”

To his credit, he did. And he missed.

I couldn’t contain the laughter anymore. We all have a breaking point, and mine was watching him barely keeping hold of the putter that almost slipped from his hand with the force he applied.

His cheeks were bright red and puffed as he turned to me while simultaneously managing to avoid eye contact.

“Why would they take golf, which is already hard, and make it smaller?” he whined. If he was looking for sympathy, he found none. The only tears I shed were from the giggles still pouring out of me.

Eventually, after a few more seconds of embarrassment, Spencer joined in with his awkward but genuine chuckles.

“It’s not fair! I’m further from the ground!” he tried to argue.

When all that earned him was a wheezed, “You’re so stupid,” he tried again. With his arm extended with the offending club in his hand, he flashed puppy dog eyes that honestly almost worked.

“Can you just hit it in for me?” he said through pouted lips.

It almost worked, but not quite.

“No way.”

Spencer’s head and shoulders dropped in shame, displaying once again how terrible his posture really was. I let him sulk in peace for a moment, but then came up with a much more appealing idea.

“Here,” I sighed with a bold step forward.

Spencer watched me cautiously, his eyes narrowed and his body returning to its previously tense position. It was exactly what I’d expected him to do. That was yet another advantage I had. Because no matter how smart Spencer Reid was, I could tell from the way his breath hitched that he did not expect what came next.

Wrapping my arms around his body from behind, I gently placed my hands around his wrists that started to move into position.

“Let me help you,” I whispered into his ear that was flushed red to match his cheeks.

And he did. Slowly, the tension left his muscles, and he became incredibly open to my guidance. Positioning him was how I might imagine it would be for a tall, skinny human sized doll. But once I had him where I wanted him, I let him go. It was harder to do than I’d care to admit. I would blame it on his body warmth being appealing on an autumn day, but that wasn’t the whole truth.

It was something about the way he turned back to look at me over his shoulder, almost like he also didn’t want me to let him go yet. But there were other matters at hand. Very, very serious matters in the shape of a terrifying clown colored gnome.

“It’s literally just a little bump. Don’t think so hard.”

I trusted him to be able to figure it out. It turned out to be a terrible decision. Really, I should have seen it coming. But I didn’t, even when the putter swung back and smashed directly into my shin, all I saw was a very panicked and horrified Spencer trying to catch me before I fell.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” he shouted as he grabbed me despite the fact that I still had both feet on the ground. In his defense, I was doubled over— laughing.

“How are you so bad at this?!” I screeched between breaths.

“My intelligence isn’t the kinesthetic kind,” he responded sheepishly. He was trying— poorly— to hide his laughter at my suffering, but we both knew that he was grateful that I was now as miserable as him.

It was true. I was as miserable as him, which was to say that I wasn’t miserable at all. Not even a little bit.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked, his hands running down my arms as we steadied ourselves back on the cheap fake grass.

“Yeah. I’m good.” Great, actually. “Let’s try again.”

History repeated itself for another few hours. Spencer’s clumsiness never really seemed to improve, but after about the fifth missed swing, the embarrassment and anxiety faded into a comfortable fit of laughter-laden tears.

Then, exactly as I predicted, once the fears faded into fun, Spencer found his stride. All it took was one soft swing, one final thud of the ball actually colliding with the putter before it happened. Whether it was by luck or physics, it didn’t matter. All I cared about was the fact that he’d actually gotten a hole in one.

“You did it!” I shouted in a disbelief that would have been insulting if it wasn’t actually a surprise to every human being on the course.

“I did it!” he yelled back with a remarkably similar tone. But that wasn’t even the most exciting part about it. No, that honor was reserved for the wide-eyed, full faced grin that appeared on his face as he turned back to me just in time.

With all the enthusiasm in the world, I practically threw myself at Spencer. Surprisingly, he caught me, tossing the club to the side and wrapping his arms around me with a fervor I’d never expected from him.

I’d always thought he would hate surprise physical contact; I did my best to avoid it whenever I could. But this time, as the two of us stumbled and spun around on the mini golf course and only barely missed the obstacles scattered along the path, I didn’t even try to stop myself.

I kissed him. I don’t know why, but I did. The same could be said for when he kissed me back. In a way, it was the most honest I think we’d ever been. There was nothing to hide, having already shown all of our failures in the most humiliating way possible. All that was left was the unadulterated joy that came from being together.

He kissed me back, his hands tightening around me and trying to drag out the moment for as long as we could. I don’t know exactly when we broke apart, but I knew it hadn’t happened when it realistically should have.

We stayed together even when he ran straight into the mini fencing running around the course. Even when we started to laugh and scream, our bodies falling gracelessly over the edge and straight into a very shallow and very brown lake.

Wet and shrieking with something between a laugh and an actual scream, the two of us floundered in the makeshift lake without even bothering to notice the onlookers.

“Holy shit, it’s freezing!” I yelled when I finally found the breath.

“It’s September!” he so helpfully pointed out, wiping algae and dirt from his face that I’d just kissed.

I couldn’t stand it. It was just too cute, too messy, too perfect to continue. So, with a very enthusiastic hand, I splashed him with the disgusting stale water again.

“Stop that!” he whined only to do the same thing back to me seconds later.

As one would expect of two competitive dorks, the whole situation quickly devolved into a battle of splashes and screams that was only put to an end by a very angry and underpaid security guard ordering us to.

For the record, I got the last splash. Spencer would disagree, but he would be wrong. Which is the same energy I carried with us into the closest possible store. They surprisingly did not object to the two FBI agents clad in soaking wet clothes and dirt. I think it had less to do with the FBI part and more to do with the fact the poor teenagers working at the Walmart just didn’t care why we were there. They just wanted us to leave as quickly as possible.

Which, we did, because almost immediately after making it to the men’s clothing section, I’d found everything I needed. Spencer must have seen the plan unfolding before him, because he tried, and failed, to grab hold of me before I sprinted off in the direction of the ugliest sweatshirt and sweatpants combo I have ever seen on this planet.

“Oh my god,” I gasped, pulling it off the shelf and turning to the exhausted but equally excited man behind me that was already shaking his head.

“I’m buying you this,” I stated definitively.

“Absolutely not,” he tried to argue. He tried. But I was already gone, running towards the cash register with giant, hideous sweats.

“Too late!”

I knew then, from the way he smiled as he chased after me with another matching set of the sweats, that Spencer wouldn’t fight me too hard. In fact, he didn’t fight me at all. The two of us awkwardly swaddled ourselves in our new matching outfits in a public bathroom, and I wondered how the hell we would explain this to the team.

Because that was the point of this, right?

Right.

Staring at myself in the mirror while trying to comb through dirty hair with my fingers, I started to lose my smile at the thought. This was just a fun day between friends. It was an experiment. It was nothing, just two friends trying to find a story to tell.

I guess we’d found one. And it wasn’t over yet. It continued as we did an impromptu fashion show in the parking lot before sopping up the mess we’d made with cheap, shitty towels. To my surprise, the germophobe didn’t even want to head straight home to shower and change. Instead, he insisted we take the time to stop and get ice cream.

Who was I to say no? I mean, I guess I should have, considering this was obviously meant to be the worst date. But I figured that eating ice cream while covered in lake sludge wasn’t all that much better than not getting any at all.

So that’s how Spencer and I ended up sitting in his car in my driveway, sloppily eating a frozen treat on a freezing night while still damp.

“Well, Spencer, this was a disaster,” I eloquently stated with a full mouth.

“Yeah, a little bit,” he answered. But no matter how much I wanted to believe that I had succeeded in my efforts, I couldn’t believe him. Not with that big, dumb smile dimpling his cheeks and squishing his eyes.

“I guess I delivered on my promise of worst date ever, huh?” I tried, nonetheless.

Then, with a low, sneaky voice, he whispered, “Only time will tell.”

It was just silly enough to dispel that elusive sadness I’d felt since I remembered this was all just a game. Because the truth was, it didn’t matter why we were doing this. I just wanted to enjoy it while it was still here, clad in ugly sweatsuits and filled with ice cream.

“At least we got souvenirs,” I giggled, gesturing to the offensive clothing.

“And lifetime bans from Putt-Putt Planet,” he added.

“You’re welcome for that one.”

As our laughter died down, Spencer’s eyes remained fixed on my smile. I tried to will it away, to dull the shine I felt overflowing from my heart so that he wouldn’t see just how happy I really was. But even with the most herculean efforts, it remained, only dropping when my jaw dropped open in a light gasp at his touch.

His hand came up to my face, cupping it gently and turning it to him. I couldn’t understand why, my cheeks burning under his palms as my brain was too busy short-circuiting to try to come up with a question.

But then it was unnecessary, anyway, with Spencer’s thumb wiping whipped cream that had somehow managed to land on my nose. I’m sure he could feel the way the blood continued to rush to my face. The heat was so unbearable I had to close my eyes and turn away, wiping at the nothingness that remained as I immediately missed his touch.

“J-Just one more date, huh?” I mumbled.

He accepted my attempt at a distraction from the undoubtedly intimate act, and just shrugged as he asked, “Do you know what you want to do?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, biting on my tongue to stop words that came anyway, “It’s a surprise.”

“Does it involve any more golf?” he asked peculiarly through a smile so soft it almost made my heart stop.

“No, no more golf,” I answered with a small shake of my head.

“But you’ll be there?”

The easy, lighthearted laughs returned, sealing my fate and realization that I think I might have made a mistake.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I replied.

“Then it sounds wonderful,” Spencer said with a look in his eye that made me want to believe that I wasn’t alone. I clung to that feeling, that admiration and humor and… love.

It was love.

“Okay well... Goodnight, Spencer,” I whispered before either of us could question it again. But even when my panic and dread started to set in, all I could find in the reflection of his eyes was a solemn understanding that we could still enjoy what little time we had left.

“Goodnight,” he whispered back, “Sweet dreams.”

By the time the last date night came, I realized that I never could’ve been ready for it. It was unfortunate timing, really, because I had tried to save the best for last. This was meant to be the best date for Spencer. It was tailored specifically to his interests, and I had planned every step to be as comfortable as possible for him.

But I still couldn’t shake the nerves or the sadness that threatened to overtake everything else, and so I was very grateful that the first part of the date included a relatively lengthy car ride that demanded the man in question wear a blindfold.

It was meant to just distract him from figuring out where we were going, but I could tell from that stupid, smug grin on his face that he was still keeping track. And sure enough, after about thirty minutes of driving, he cleared his throat.

“Okay... I don’t want to ruin the mood but... I know where you’re taking me.”

I waited a second, hoping to call his bluff just to glance over and see that even with his blindfold on, he looked undeniably confident in his conclusion.

“How could you possibly know that?” I dared to ask.

“I’ve been keeping track of turns and time and I can tell how fast we’re going by the strength of the brake. Can I take off the blindfold now?”

Again, I paused, too apathetic at the result to even roll my eyes. Instead, I just sighed, “Fine. Take it off.”

But the apathy was quickly dispelled, replaced with the familiar fluttering of butterflies in my stomach as he practically squealed with glee, tearing off the little piece of cloth and leaning over the center console as he quickly asked, “Are you really taking me to the Poe Shadow Puppet Theater?”

All he got in response was, “I’m so annoyed with you.”

That was enough for him to confirm his suspicions, and before I could stop him, he’d started spouting the usual factoids about the show. I say that like I would have ever stopped him, but even if I had a reason to, I wouldn’t have. After all, there was nothing in the world that was more heartwarming than Spencer Reid talking about the things he loves.

I didn’t get a break from that point on, and by the time the show started, I thought my heart would surely burst at the way his voice danced along the octaves while he narrated the past, present, and future of the presentation.

I tried to come up with questions throughout it all, or at least a comment to prove that I was still there in the moment. But it was so hard. It was an impossible task, really. I didn’t know how I was meant to make this any better than it already was. I just wanted to ride the wave of joy with him.

So when his hand took mine, I didn’t fight it. I don’t even think he noticed he’d done it, but neither of us were going to take it back. It was just another way for him to communicate, to share everything he was feeling while he continued to whisper into my ear.

For a second, I almost even forgot that this was all meant to be for him. Because I was, without a doubt, having the best time of my life. Between his breath tickling my neck to his insistence on pulling me closer despite the armrest between us, I never wanted the show to be over.

But like all good things, it had to come to an end eventually. In a way, it felt like fate had stretched time a little bit for us. It still wasn’t enough for me, though. So I forced the slowest possible pace I could, clinging desperately to Spencer’s hand that still remained intertwined with mine.

“So... final thoughts?” I asked when the car had finally started to come into view, hoping that we could drag it out just a little bit longer.

“What do you mean?”

“Final answers,” I vaguely and poorly explained, “To the question that started this.”

Spencer’s feet came to a stop, his hand falling away from mine and making me regret yet another thing about my words. “Oh... right,” he choked, laughing a little to cover the sound.

Both of our hands returned to their respective pockets, then. It wasn’t even close to the same. Still, I was determined to end the night on a high note, so I bumped into him until the two of us were resting against the hood of the car. Together, we stared off into the bustling cityscape in a quiet that wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the previous dates.

“Let’s start with best date,” I offered, trying to bring back the energy that had gotten us so far.

“Night in,” he replied without even a millisecond of hesitation.

“Okay. I’ll take it,” I chuckled. It wasn’t what I’d planned, but I couldn’t argue with him about it. I had also enjoyed tickling the life out of him in a poorly constructed pillow fort. “Next one is favorite date.”

This time, Spencer couldn’t keep a straight face. Before he’d even said it, he was already laughing, leaning on me like a large golden retriever trying to earn himself some pets.

“Mini golf,” he said with the widest smile I’d seen from him yet.

Again, I tried to call his bluff. With a blank stare and an incredulous gasp, I shook my head in disbelief that grew with every second that passed. He was still smiling.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“Nope,” he said with a pop of his lips.

“Spencer, you hit me with a club and we fell in a lake,” I deadpanned, conveniently leaving off what else had happened in the lake. I didn’t have to say it to see it in his eyes, though. That same loving look that had blindsided me in the car when he’d gingerly cleaned my face.

“Final answer,” he stubbornly persisted.

“Fine,” I huffed, crossing my arms and leaning against him just as hard as he had earlier. We both shook with his clever little giggles, but we didn’t stop even when we almost fell over.

I could be stubborn, too, pressing forward with my line of questioning with so much determination that I forgot to stop and think about what it meant.

“So that leaves the worst date, which would be…”

My voice fell away immediately at the realization, my throat closing in on itself as I tried to step away. I tried to make distance, but Spencer’s hand around my waist stopped me, pulling me back to him with a trembling breath.

“It’s…” he started, terrified and quiet compared to the noise around us, “It’s this one.”

I couldn’t think of what to say. Hell, I couldn’t even think of what to do. My mind and body both seemed to have gone on strike, leaving me a mess in his hands while I tried to bite back my tears.

“Oh... I’m sorry,” I managed to get out without my voice breaking. The same couldn’t be said for the rest. “C-Can I ask why?”

All I could feel then was the way his hands drifted slowly up my arms, almost cupping my face but never actually making the contact. They hung there and I could see the battle raging on behind those big toffee eyes that reflected streetlights and love.

Finally, he gave his answer, taking any hope for my heart with it.

“Because it’s... the last one.”

It wasn’t a rejection. It wasn’t an answer at all. I wanted to call him out, to demand an answer to the real question that we both needed to be answered.

Is this the end? Is this all we’re going to be?

I knew he could see the fear in my face, and as he finally closed the gap between my face and his hands, I felt the comforting warmth of him seep into my skin and try to find its way to my heart that felt so frozen over after so many years of mistakes.

But this wasn’t one of those times. It just wasn’t.

And as my eyes opened to reveal the glassy surface of tears, Spencer shook his head in objection, trying not to laugh as he started to speak with the trepidation that resurfaced for the first time since the conference room.

“This past month has been the best month of my life. I didn’t even know it could be like this. I didn’t realize—“ Spencer’s voice cut out, his lungs filling and vacating all air in large bursts as he tried to force his tongue to cooperate with his heartfelt speech that felt like a hug and a heartbreak all at the same time.

“I just really need you to know how much I appreciate what you did for me,” he said, followed by a pathetic, muttered, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course,” I replied breathlessly, forcing the words forward before the ability to speak was completely robbed by the tears already spilling down my cheeks. “You’re welcome.”

Then, like a man on a mission to turn my heart to dust in his grasp, Spencer pulled me forward into one last devastatingly beautiful kiss. Unlike before, there was no lake water or laughter to get in the way. We were the only two people left on Earth, wrapped up in our own universe in the middle of a parking lot in a city that forced us to recognize that time soldiered on.

And that was just it. That was the moment when both of us threw caution to the wind, losing ourselves in the comfort of each other. Because, as it turned out, the world continued even when Spencer and I loved each other.

In fact, I think we both liked it better that way.

I said it was different from the minigolf course, but it wasn’t, really. We’d been just as in love then; we just didn’t have the time to stop and think about it. Once we had, however, it devolved into the same fit of laughter and messy love. Granted, it wasn’t all that much drier as we finally broke apart to wipe dramatic tears away.

The two of us looked at each other, realizing there was only one question left to answer.

“Hey, uh... do you...” he stopped, taking the time to sniffle and build the necessary confidence to take that last leap, “Do you maybe want to... go out with me sometime?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” I answered simply, letting the sad tears blend into happy laughter.

“Okay,” he laughed back, swallowing any residual anxiety and letting it be replaced with love, “It’s a date.”

(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid #spencer reid request #reid request #gn!reader #gender neutral!reader

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inkandpen22 · 3 years ago

Text

Dazed and Confused ( S1: 3/?)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild language and violence

Word Count: 3.1k

Part Summary: At Tina’s party, Y/N wants to forget all of her problems. Things take a turn when Billy makes a move on her, angering Steve

Masterlist

Arriving at Tina’s after dropping Dustin at Mike’s, I am in much need of some good old spiked punch. I yank down my gray oversized sweatshirt some more so that it hangs low off my shoulder. As I cross the threshold into the house, the heat of the crowded living room slaps me in the face. Directly to my left, the kitchen AKA the alcohol hub. I slip between bodies and end up at the counter covered with semi-empty bottles and old plastic cups. Most importantly, a bowl of maroon punch sits in the corner. I grab a cup and make my way over. A boy stands in front of it but I reach around him and scoop up some of the mystery substance.

“What’s in this?” I hear a voice holler behind me.

I turn around to answer but freeze when I realize it’s Nancy. She stares at me equally stunned. My face falls, this is awkward. Seriously universe? I couldn’t have at least one drink before bumping into her?

Steve appears behind her looking slick as ever in his black sunglasses and matching blazer.

“Everclear is my guess,” I answer, acting civil.

She nods timidly, “thanks…”

I step out of her way so she can get some of her own. Steve’s head travels up and down slowly with a blank expression. I can’t see his eyes but I assume he’s studying my costume. A gray oversized sweatshirt that hangs off the shoulder, red heels, matching earrings, and some shorts, though they’re unnoticeable. I can feel him starring me down through those stupid Ray-Bans. Silently, I beg for him to not bring up our encounter in the parking lot. All I wish for tonight is to drown out reality and try to forget. He’s a human ticking time bomb. The tension between us could be cut with a knife.

“Are you finally going to tell me what you are?” Nancy jumps in, forcing me to break my staring contest with her boyfriend.

I open my mouth to answer but Steve beats him to it.

“Flashdance,” he answers for me. “It’s one of her favorites.”

He acts distant, unattached, distracted by the party but I see right through it. There’s something he’s not saying. He says things like this as if it’s common knowledge. A random person wouldn’t describe my eyes as Y/E/C but gray depending on the lighting. One minute, he calls my eyes beautiful and the next he’s starring me down like a disapproving parent. The hell Harrington?!

Nancy gushes, apparently she and I are okay all of a sudden, despite early today with the whole Barb thing. Plus, I think she’s already been drinking for awhile so buzzed Nancy is fun Nancy.

“That’s so cute! You look hot!” She pulls me into a hug.

Over her shoulder, I glimpse up at Steve as he lifts his glasses to rest of his head. His brown eyes threaten to expose my upset from earlier. I get that he’s pissed about my neglect for my feelings. He wants to talk about what was wrong but right now we’re at a party and parties aren’t meant for depressing conversations.

“Let’s go dance!” Nancy suggests, already tugging me into the living room.

Steve calls after her but she ignores him. He follows behind us through the crowd with a groan. In the center of the living room, Nancy stops and turns to me with a bright grin. She cheers as she tosses her head back.

“Woohoo!” She laughs.

This is what I wanted, normalcy. We’re surrounded by our friends, drinking, dancing, being stupid! We did this before everything so why can’t we do it now? Perhaps after tonight, everything will fall back into place.

_______________________________________

On my third game of flip-cup, I’m beyond buzzed. In fact, when I walk I float. I’m on cloud nine. Here, this carefree and lively state is exactly where I wanted to be. Naturally, I’m competitive and amazing at drinking games so I finish my third game with yet another win. I cheer as Tommy from algebra hands me a cup of who knows what as my reward.

“Hey there beautiful,” a husky voice greets from behind me.

I spin around and kind of become dizzy from the action but catch myself.

It’s Billy.

“Hey hottie,” I smirk.

He snickers and closes the space between us to whisper in my ear. “How about you and I go somewhere a little more private?”

That’s a nice thought. He is cute. His ass could have its own zip code. Plus, he has no shirt on under that leather jacket, hello washboard like abs. His California tanned skin glistens under a thin layer of sweat. Damn, he’s a human Ken doll.

He’s no Steve though. Wait… what? I don’t think of Steve like that. Why would I think that? Um, yeah, that’s a no! Then again, Steve is always there for me. Sometimes it can be annoying how he’s always there. It means he cares but I don’t want to dump all of my drama on him. Then, he gets upset when I don’t open up. I hate it when I hurt him. I love him so much that when he’s in pain so am I.

“Okay,” I blurt out without truly thinking.

“Cool,” I hear him whisper as he takes my hand and starts pulling me toward the stairs across the room.

Wait, what? What am I doing? This isn’t me. I don’t like Billy. He treats Steve like shit. If anything I should kick his pretty ass. Though if I tried he’d probably murder me.

I glance down at his hand engulfing mine. It’s all rough and twice the size of my own. If we make it upstairs, it’ll be just him and I. I’ll be defenseless. I may be drunk but I’m not oblivious. My intuition is still working and it’s screaming for me to pull my shit together.

“Hey Billy? I don’t think…” I press my heels into the floor, slowing him down just as we reach the bottom of the stairs.

Aggressively, he whips around and purposefully towers over me to act intimidating. “What? Now, you’re saying no? Are you messing me? Playing with me!” He accuses.

I shake my head dramatically, “no! No, that’s not what-”

“Oh, so you still want to do this,” he presses.

Too impatient for an answer, he continues up the stairs. The grip he has on me has shifted up to my wrist. I attempt to tug myself free but fear dislocating it, his strength is too great. I stumble up the stairs behind me and I startle to feel dizzy. I think it’s safe to say I’ve had too much.

“No,” I whine, “I don’t want to! Stop! Please! I don’t want to! No!”

“Hey!” A booming voice echoes from the bottom of the stairs.

Rapid footsteps approach from behind me and a rush of relief consumes me when Steve appears beside me. He places a protective hand on my back.

“What the hell is going here?” He directs at Billy, taking note of his fist wrapped around my wrist.

“Nothing that concerns you, Harrington. Y/N and I were just heading upstairs.” He jolts his hand forward, causing me to traveling with it.

Steve instantly pries Billy’s hand from my body. Then, shoves him in the back, flying him forward to land with his ass on the stairs. “Don’t you ever touch her again! You hear me?!” He sneers. His face turns this deep red as he pants angrily.

The two start bickering but I can’t keep up. I see three Steves and a couple Billys shouting in each other’s faces. I lean against the railing unsteadily and slide down to sit on the steps. My eyes suddenly feel very heavy.

“I’m going to go to bed now,” I announce to no one in particular.

I decide to get some rest and shut my eyes. It’s okay, Steve’s here. He’ll protect me.

I’m not sure how much time has past when I hear Tommy and some of the other basketball boys come to break up the fight.

“Come on Y/N,” I hear Steve whisper to me, “let’s get you home.”

Feeling as light as a feather, I’m picked up like a sleepy child off the ground. For a moment, I fall asleep again. I rest my head on his chest and ponder the rare opportunity to sleep without being afraid of being eaten by a monster.

“Y/N?” I hear someone repeatedly call my name. “Y/N, wake up!”

I ease open my eyes and at first my vision is blurry but then they eventually adjust. Steve glances down at me as he we cross the threshold hold to the front yard.

“You smell like sunshine and all things exquisite,” I mumble to myself, adjusting myself in his arms to curl closer to his warmth.

“Even when hammered you still manage to be a walking thesaurus,” he teases.

Opps, he heard me. Oh well, I wasn’t lying. He smells like vanilla, the ocean, sugar, spice, and everything nice.

Goosebumps course over my skin as a brisk October breeze hits me. I shiver slightly and Steve holds me closer.

“We’re almost to my car. I’ll turn on the heat high. You’re okay,” he promises calmly.

Playing the hero, Steve places me into the passenger seat gently and straps me in. I toss my head to the side and rest my eyes again. He shuts the door for me before jogging to the driver’s side. The car drowns out the sound of chaos coming from the party and creates a sense of security. Steve slides behind the wheel and for some reason I choose now to act reasonable.

“Have you been drinking? If so, you shouldn’t drive,” I state like a health textbook.

He chuckles, popping in the keys. “I’m sober. Promise.”

“That’s nice. Good to know,” I yawn.

The last thing I can remember of the ride home is Steve turning on the car.

______________________________________

I wake up silently as Steve pulls up in front of my house. He’s unaware of my stare as he finishes parking and turning off the car.

“Hazel,” I tell him, announcing my woken state.

He looks to me with scrunched eyebrows, all confused. It’s cute when he does that. He’s cute. Geez, what the heck am I saying? He’s dating my best friend! Steve is Steve and Katherine, we don’t mix, at least that way.

“What?” He questions, turning to face me.

“Your eyes… they’re hazel…” I repeat softly with a yawn. “But, it really depends on the lighting.”

He snickers, and astonished expression blesses his features. The subtle blush forming on his cheeks makes me smile to see him all bashful because of my comment. He has no idea how gorgeous we truly is, inside and out. He glances down at his lap, at his hands fidgeting with a button on his jacket, then back up at me with hooded eyes.

“See, right now!” I point out, “they’re a dark brown like a burnt caramel, basically black. When you’re really focused on a task or upset about something, they go dark. Then, when you’re really happy or excited, they turn to a light hazel… like seaglass. It’s how I can tell if something’s bothering you. You don’t even have to tell me half the time. All I have to do is look into your eyes and I know,” I state a matter-of-factly with a light snicker.

I shift you see him directly and tuck a few strands of my hair away from my face. He watches my every move patiently, eagerly, for me to say something more, anything. I can’t speak for him but my heart won’t stop racing. Is it possible to have stage fright in a conversation? I feel like a mannequin, on display. Nervously, I twirl my hair at the ends and find myself unable to meet his gaze anymore.

“Your pupils are rarely small,” I add quietly. “They’re usually really big and take up most of your eye giving off the illusion they’re black. One thing that never changes is…” I make a circle with my finger in front of my eye to demonstrate, “is the gold rim around each of them.” I lower my hand into my lap and play with the end of my sweatshirt. “That’s my favorite part… ” I confess timidly.

I wouldn’t be saying these things if I were sober. I wish he would say something, anything. He must think I’m crazy. He finds me with Billy heading up stairs. I can only imagine what he must think of me now. Embarrassed beyond belief and sobering up, I excuse myself.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I unbuckle myself. “See you Monday!”

Swiftly, I climb out of the car. As I walk toward my front door, I curse myself for acting so stupid! Geez, what was I thinking? ‘The gold rim around each of them, that’s my favorite part!’ What kind of mushy, guhsy, marshmallow fluff is that? Ew! If he never spoke to me again I would judge that as completely reasonable! He has a girlfriend! He’s taken! Completely off limits! Why did I spew out this creepy nonsense to him like a total idiot? I’m not some lovesick teenage girl! I’m going to go to my room, put in some Guns N’ Roses, and just scream into my pillow all weekend! It sounds like an excellent plan to me because I just ruined my friendship with Steve forever! Add Nancy to that list because once he fills her in on what I said I’ll lose both of them!

“Y/N!” He calls after me.

I ignore it as I march faster toward the door. He’s only going to call me crazy because I was acting crazy!

“Y/N, wait!” He repeats as I hear him shut the car door and run toward me.

“Goodnight, Steve!” I urge him away without turning around.

His footsteps speed up until they come to a halt directly behind me. I reach for the door handle, my freedom. Desperately, he grips my forearm and steps in front of me, blocking the front door.

“Look, could you just slow down for a sec?” He yells at me as he pants to catch his breath.

“No! I can’t slow down! I just want to go inside, get in my pajamas, and forget tonight ever happened! Alright? Now, excuse me,” I gesture for him to get out of the way.

Reluctantly, paired with an overly dramatic eye roll, he steps aside. Despite wanting his to leave, I thank him quietly for cracking open the front door slowly, making sure not to wake anyone.

“Nance and I broke up…” Steve drops on me.

My heart leaps and I stop dead in my tracks. Unsure of what to do or say, I remain still in the doorway and wait for him to say more.

“She never loved me,” he explains with a heartbroken tone. “At least… I don’t think she did…”

Shit. Please don’t tell me that, Harrington. It only makes me want you more. He’s always so close but too far out of reach. I care about him more than anything but he’ll never mine. I’m just the friend.

I spin on my heels and offer him a sympathetic smile, “would you like to come in?”

He nods, clearly miserable. I step aside, allowing him in. After shutting the door behind us, I warn him to be quiet so we don’t wake my parents. He nods slowly and slips his hand into mine. Never breaking eye contact with me, he leads the way through the moonlit house toward my room. His platonic touch is so blissful, I can only imagine what it feels like otherwise.

_________________________________

Steve and I sit on my bed in our usual positions with my record player going quietly. He lounges like a patient in therapy and me, acting as his therapist, criss-cross beside him. He explains everything. He describes how drunk Nancy got and how he followed her to the bathroom. It was there they got into a fight. She admitted feeling guilty for the loss of Barb. Then, she called all of it bullshit. Us acting like carefree teenagers, never telling Barb’s parents the truth, her love for Steve, all of it is bullshit. He asked Jonathan to take her home and that’s when he stumbled upon me and Billy.

Watching Steve relive it all and hearing the pain in his voice breaks my heart. How could Nance do this to him? I get that she’s going through something, we all are. I’m by no means normal. I’m hiding everything for Pete’s sake! I haven’t been myself for over a year. Steve was just now becoming truly happy again! He was putting on a brave face for Nancy for so long! Now, she crushed it. She crushed him.

I reach and place my hand over his as they rest intertwined on his stomach. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”

“I really loved her. At least, I think I did. I don’t know anymore. I thought she loved me too.”

“I did too,” I tell him honestly.

He glances away from the ceiling down to me, “what can I do?”

I wish I knew the answer. I wish there was a way I could take away his pain. Yet, I have nothing. I shrug, “I’m not entirely sure. I think you should at least talk to her.

Tomorrow, of course, when she’s sobered up. Perhaps, she was just drunk and didn’t mean what she said. She wasn’t in the proper mindset.”

“So I shouldn’t take what she said to heart?”

“Well, there’s also the argument that drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Does the same go for you?” He snickers.

I laugh, “sometimes.”

“So you don’t like the gold in my eyes? I thought it was your favorite part?” He smirks, turning to lay on his side and face me. My hand would’ve fallen off his hadn’t he flipped his over to catch it.

Ugh, he’s such a sneaky jerk! His cheeky smirk only grows with my silence. Warmth rushes to my cheeks as I bashfully hide my face.

“Yeah… about that…” I laugh nervously, “let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Should I forget that you also said I smell like sunshine and everything exquisite?” He adds to the torment.

I groan, tossing my head back. This must count as torture. “Preferably, yes,” I request shortly.

We share a laugh at my annoyed reaction. He’s impossible! Even he should be mopping he still manages to tease me!

A comfortable silence fills the air and I stare down at the pillow in my lap as I play with the lettering on it.

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