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sukirichi · 4 years ago

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a thing or two (m.)

tutor geto has a thing or two to teach you.

cw. oral sex (f and m receiving), lube, unprotected sex, sweet! geto, halloween setting so priest! geto, age gap, slight body worship, fingering, overall romantic sex, kitchen counter sex, dirty talk, lots of kissing, mutual masturbation, intoxication, pwp, unedited as always eep

note. for my right boob @sixeyesgojo my first ever geto fic and i hope it’s to your liking...writing this with a frozen arm and numb fingers weeeee, i almost became a geto simp.

Halloween festivals have never felt livelier in the city. People dressed up in various outfits milled about the events place, your drink nearly sloshing on the ground the more they bumped into you.

Bass and music boosted from the large speakers smack in the middle of the grounds, and everyone danced to their heart’s content, you and your friends a huge inclusion to the crowd.

You don’t really go out to parties that much. Hell, you don’t even drink.

But after numerous encouragements from your friends, you’re now dressed in she-devil skin-tight black dress, black lipstick, and red horns placed on your head. It’s hard not to feel confident and sexy – the kick of the liquor is settling down as well – when you’ve got human eyes, vampiric red eyes, ghoul sclera lenses and even a fucking Cyclops eye turning your way.

You’re excitedly grinding against your friends, the whoops and cheers mixing in with slurred mumbles of the lyrics.

The night is young and so are you.

This may have been your third or fourth drink, you don’t really know, but probably some way along the second since you’re not really hammered. You’re somewhat sober enough to feel large hands gripping your hips, a protest of not tonight, Dracula about to leave your lips when you come face to face with a face you never thought you would see here.

Clad in a long black cloak, a silver cross hung around his neck, his dark hair in a neat bun and black earrings a perfect completion to the hauntingly stunning look he pulled off, your throat ran dry.

“Sir Geto?”

“Hey, it’s you,” your tutor spoke up with unmasked interest, his curious eyes trailing down your revealing outfit…the way your dress hugged all your curves and how your breasts are practically popping from your top. Geto smirked, “And please, we’re not studying at home, just call me Geto. Surprised to see you here.”

“Well, it’s Halloween, would be a shame if I didn’t go out,” laughing nervously, you found yourself acting out of habit as you twirled a strand of hair to your finger. “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you’d have work.”

“Nah, the boys and I are free for tonight,” he answered with a grin, nodding to where his friends – a really tall white haired man and a bored blond who looks like he’s ready to leave anytime – dancing and drinking at the corner. Geto must’ve felt your unnecessary prolonged stare at his attractive friends for he’s pulling you closer again, not sexually or even hidden with motives, but because it’s hard to hear each other through the music.

“Hey, do you wanna dance?” Nodding, you waved goodbye to your friends. They didn’t really notice considering they’re way too hammered and occupied dancing with others. Surely, they wouldn’t notice your little escapade.

Geto’s warm hands leads you somewhere out the bar and into the open grounds, where cups are already littered on the grass and people are drunkenly shaking their ass to everything and everyone.

It’s a ridiculous sight that has both you and Geto laughing.

“So…you liking the festival so far?”

“It’s…pretty fun,” you admit and loop your arms around him with ease. Normally, you wouldn’t be doing this.

He may not be your actual professor or teacher, but he’s still a family friend of your friend who’s been tutoring you for the past semester and is basically the only reason you can endure math. Granted, he’s always been deadly attractive, but you’ve never really been affected by it, not up this close, anyway.

But you’re most definitely closer now, and Geto’s forehead is pressed against yours as he sways you both side to side.

“My first time drinking and I feel so light,” Geto hums at your slightly intoxicated eyes, his grin turning gummy when your curious hands trail up his robes to experimentally grope his pecs.

“First time, huh? We’ll I’ll be here to hold you up if you feel dizzy.”

“Thanks,” you beamed up at him. Geto, albeit being at least seven years older, feels so youthful that you’re not really bothered by the age gap. Again, it could be the alcohol, but he feels so warm, so nice, that you lean back to survey him this time around. “You look great, by the way, though you’re dressed up as…”

Geto rolls his eyes before you can finish.

“I know, the priest costume looks weird, but we found it pretty funny so here I am.”

“No, no, it looks great,” you wave off, your smile freezing on your face when a nostalgic song starts to blast through the speakers. In your head, in your head! “Zombies by the Cranberries. A classic.”

Geto’s hands snake around your waist before they hover over your ass, his eyes mischievous and slanted as he mumbles, “It’s a great song to dance with a perfect little devil with.”

You don’t know who leaned it first.

Not like it mattered, when Geto tasted strongly of strawberry flavored bear and cheesecake. An odd combination, even more so with his spicy cologne, but it only has you pulling you in closer to him.

He’s such a great kisser. Legs turned to jelly, knees weakening and lips locking in rhythm to the beat – it feels like it’s just the two of you in that moment. Geto smiles through the kiss, tongue prodding your lips to open before you’re gasping for air. Your attempt to regain air back to your lungs is cut off when Geto leans closer to slip his tongue inside your mouth, greedily sucking on it until you’re moaning in his arms.

Soon enough, you’re both holding on to each other to the point you might as well be fucking openly.

Geto is cupping your cheeks as he excitedly kisses you, his smiles intoxicating and the bubbling laughter he lets out much like music to your ears.

“Yo, Geto, are you sure about this? She looks like a minor, dude,” one of his friends speak up, and that’s when you see his white haired friend – who has extremely azure eyes that you can’t tell whether it’s contacts or not – crossing his arms on his chest, though his amused smirk said otherwise.

If anything, the guy is only suggestive, wiggling his brows up and down as he puts his fingers into a V shape, his tongue poked out.

You snort at his gestures, and just like how Geto did before, he turns your cheeks towards him again, his gaze feral and wanting. “I assure you,” Geto murmurs over your lips, “She’s not.” Eyes wide and all attention to him the way he wants, Geto’s smirk is cunning before he leans down to capture your lips in another heated kiss.

Stumbling back to his apartment turned out to be a lot more challenging. With the urgent need to relieve each other of this burning in your cores, you and Geto have made out everywhere, hands kneading each other’s skin until you fall awkwardly at his bed.

There’s no time to worry about it though. Not when he’s eagerly unbuttoning his robe, his dark hair messed up and a few strands shielding his eyes that glimmer when you struggle to squeeze out of your dress. He helps you get it off before he hovers over you, knocking your knee with his to make you fall open. You’re left completely vulnerable and naked under his predatory gaze, large hands smoothing over your skin – from your ankle, up to your thighs and the dips in your body, before he settles right above your breasts, nipples hard between his fingers.

“Fuck, you look stunning,” he praises, biting his lip at the same time you drunkenly giggle. “Bet you taste perfect too.”

“Only one way to find out, then.”

“Come here,” Get growls and rips off your panties, your half-hearted protests completely missed in his haze of pleasure. Upon seeing you bare for him, wet and pussy lips glistening, Geto groans deep in his chest. “Such a pretty pussy. Shoulda fucked you a long time ago when we were alone for so many hours,” curling his upper lip, he begins to settle down between your legs, peering up from you under his lashes as he teasingly blows air over your core that has you shivering. “I could’ve taught you so many more things, don’t you think?”

“Careful there, father, wouldn’t want you to sin tonight.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to do that to me tonight, sweetheart,” he laughs evilly, joined by you afterwards at the little teasings. “You’re a little devil and I’m nothing but a mortal man. Of course I’d fall to the consequences of my sinful desires.”

Sitting up with your elbows resting on the mattress, you tug him by his cross, hard. “Here’s your one way ticket to hell then,” you dared, letting your legs spread wider and pushing his head down. Geto inhales sharply when the tip of his nose nudges your clit, drawing out a shuddered moan from you. “Feast for yourself.”

“Hmm, you’re a whole ass fucking meal, baby,” he marveled, giving little teasing bites on your inner thigh that you’re sure would leave a mark. “I’m going to devour you.”

Geto isn’t kidding.

You clearly undermined him, or perhaps you knew all along what he could do and you just wanted to bring out this side for him, because riled up Geto who was excitedly sucking on your clit like a man starved had you seeing stars in the whites of his ceiling.

“Hnggrr, G-Geto, fuck!”

“Yeah, you like that?” he chuckles from your pussy, the vibrations of it sending electricity jolting down deep to your core. Geto begins to trail down, his tongue playfully poking your entrance as slick coats his muscle and cheeks, licking and kissing everywhere that you actually find it hard to keep quiet. Narrowing your eyes at him – and you wished you didn’t, because you’ve never seen a more lewd sight before – you slap your palm over your mouth, the only thing keeping your legs apart the strong grip he had on you. “Don’t be shy, babe. We’ve got the whole place to ourselves tonight. Scream as loud as you want. Let the neighbors hear how good I’m fucking you.”

“Y-you’re so lewd, fuck-” you announce, but the sounds of your squelching being sucked by his eager, unquenched self is even more lewd. “Geto, I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Geto just pushes you over the edge, ignoring the way your thighs are shaking and you’re pushing him away once the overstimulation becomes too much to handle. You giggle when he sighs at not being able to eat you out anymore, but his glistening face is a lot more arousing than entertaining. Struggling to catch your breath, Geto smirks at how easily you’ve come undone, groaning as he wipes your juices with his thumb and licking his lips afterwards. He bends forward as he stares at you the whole while, slipping his digit through your mouth in a silent demand for you to taste yourself.

Never pulling away from holding his gaze, you wrap your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue and sucking just hard enough that he absentmindedly humps the air.

“You okay? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Shut up. You literally ate my soul out,” you stare at the trail of saliva connected to his finger, the image so fucking dirty yet arousing that you begin to clench around nothing. Meanwhile, Geto’s biceps flex as he runs his hand through his hair, and that’s when you see he’s so rock hard that he probably feels uncomfortable. “Do you want me to…?”

“You don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“Seriously, Geto, you’re declining an offer to get your dick sucked?”

“I mean, I’m not against it but-” you shove his boxers down and immediately take him into your mouth, no foreplay at all, and your teeth graze his dick as you do so. Geto’s hips sutter forward in a knee-jerk movement he almost falls down on his bed, but catches him on the last second to not crush you. He ogled at your cock-stuffed mouth and puffy cheeks, his breaths sharp from the pleasure he’s receiving. “Sh-shit, not so fast, baby. I don’t want to cum like this.”

“Hmm.”

Staring up at him innocently, Geto closes his eyes and runs his finger through your locks, slightly bucking his hips deeper into your mouth. Even in his euphoria, Geto is careful to let you go at your own pace, though his self-controls falter a little bit the moment you fondle his balls.

His eyes snap open. Teeth bared and belly flexing, you keep rendering him frozen with how you take him in deeper until his hair is tickling your nose, cheeks sucked in and hollow as you slide his cock along your warm walls. “Oh, fuck, you’re really a fucking devil, right there, yeah,” he hisses, taking a handful of your hair so he could get a better look at you. “Well, who would’ve thought? Always seemingly so innocent. Who knew you could suck dick like this?”

“You like it,” you tease while pumping his shaft up and down and giving kitten licks to the head, where Geto smirks at you.

“Yeah, I love it,” he corrects, his cock twitching on your dainty hands that look so tiny in comparison to his girth. “But no way I’m coming tonight anywhere than your pussy,” Geto pushes you back down on the bed where he showers you with heated kisses, wrists pinned under his grip and hickeys left everywhere on your neck. His sticky fingers trail down your skin to finger you, the sensation too much, too good, too wrong, and that thought alone that’s been drumming into you as the intoxication fades away make you both pause.

“I-I…”

“It’s okay, just relax,” he reassures, withdrawing his fingers that can’t get past your pussy that has now tightened the minute he touched you down there. Geto sends you another approving glance before he pumps his shaft and up down, aligning it with your entrance and kissing you flat on the lips the whole time. “I’ll put it in, okay? Tell me if anything hurts.”

“Hey, hey. Breathe,” he cups your cheek while looking deep into your eyes, though that slight pinch on his forehead let you know he experienced the same discomfort.

Geto must’ve realized both of you aren’t getting anywhere tonight because soon, he’s falling back to this side, eyeing your pussy with longing and lust before his arm lands over his face. “Well… Maybe not tonight.”

“Geto,” you begin, turning on your side in hopes of easing the pained frown on his face. “I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, it’s fine, really, don’t worry about it,” he blinks at you and rests back on the pillows, his hand already wrapped around his hard, throbbing cock where the tip is leaking. “Let me just relieve myself. I’m so fucking hard it hurts.”

You don’t know what you’re expecting, but definitely not for him to jack off right beside you. You watch; perplexed, awed, undeniably aroused as he holds your gaze, his jaw clenched and accentuating his sharp features more from the movement. Geto is absolutely shameless as he fucks his own fist that is cum-stained, beads of white pre-cum coating his incredibly thick shaft with thick veins.

It’s so wrong yet so fucking hot that you can’t help but do the same.

Sneaking your fingers down to your kitty, you rub your clit and bite your lip, pleasuring yourself the same way he does. Geto exhales in wonder from watching you masturbate, his muscles ripping and arm so buff, you wonder why he hasn’t folded you in half yet.

Oh right, you’re too anxious to ever have his dick inside you, yet you’re shamelessly rubbing circles in your clit. Spreading your pussy lips open, you slide your fingers down and collect your juices, gasping right beside Geto who’s angrily pumping his dick.

Geto suddenly leans back on his calves to stare at your pussy and jacks off, catching some cum from your pussy lips which makes you giggle in surprise, but he comes back to fisting himself. The eroticism of your actions pushed you both to the edge until the both of you came, his dick softening and his cum shooting all over your thighs.

“God, you’re so sexy, I could stare at you all day.”

“That was…”

“Yeah,” he breathes out in stuttered chuckles, throwing a leg over the bed as he stands to hs full naked, cum-stained glory. “Hey, I’ll clean you up. Do you want something to drink or eat? A glass of water, maybe?”

“That sounds great.”

Geto comes back with a shirt of a rock festival and wipes his cum from your stomach, then folds it to wipe your arousal off. He helps you settle inside his oversized shirt that is warm, comfortable, and smells so faintly of him that the exhaustion of tonight’s events is rapidly coming to you.

“Come here. It’s pretty cold tonight,” You gladly cuddle with him, your head laid on top of his buff arm while his free one is wrapped around you.“How’s your studies going? Do you understand math a little better now?”

Despite his innocent queries, his actions are everything but.

His hands are trailing up to slowly to stroke your nipples. Geto thumbs at the hardened peaks before he softly squeezes your breast, letting his hand repeatedly graze over your sensitive nipples as if it’s second nature to him. It turns you on so bad, but you’re exhausted and you’re rubbing your thighs together, sighing and quietly moaning every now and then.

“A-a little, I guess,” you answer, a little bit distracted. He’s modest and no longer aroused (judging from his state inside his boxers), so you try not to start something you’re not prepared to finish. “Hey, Geto, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you more of an ass or boobs person?”

Geto handles the question with ease. “As long as the proportions are right, I like both, and I like yours,” he grins, cupping your boobs in his hand as if to prove a point. Then, he tugs your (his) shirt up just enough to reveal the erect nipples, his eyes narrowed before he sucks lightly on the sides. You gasp at his ministrations but voice no complaints, and neither does he when your nails dig into his arm. “Yours are so beautiful.”

“Flatterer,” you playfully punch his chest, but Geto only chuckles and brings you closer to his chest, his lips warm on top of your forehead. “I’m pretty sleepy…”

“Then sleep. I’ll still be here tomorrow, don’t worry. You’re free to stay as long as you like.”

The next day, Geto is already gone from the room. You’re not worried because one) this is a one night stand with your hot tutor, you’re not supposed to be attached, and two) the smell of pancakes wafting from the slight crack of his door is very much present.

Stretching your arms out, you pad to where Geto is busy flipping pancakes. He’s already dressed comfortably in a white shirt and dark sweats, turning around to smile at you at the sound of your footsteps. “There’s a naked girl in my room? Wow.”

“It’s not like you haven’t seen everything last night.”

Geto doesn’t need to gesture you to come closer to him, you’re already too pulled in by his presence that you’re wrapping an arm around his neck while he kisses you flat on the lips.

“Doesn’t mean I get tired of it,” he teases, lips lingering above yours before he drifts down the crook your neck, voice deep and husky as he greets, “’Morning. Can you pass me the syrup?”

Nodding, you bend over the counter. The syrup is located in the bottom of the pantry and you’re halfway to opening the glass panels when you hear Geto shut off the stove. His hands come to grip on your hips as he grinds his hard cock on your exposed bottom, his lips hovering over your ear. “On second thought…I think I’ll have my meal a little differently.”

“G-Geto.”

“I bought lube while you were asleep. Maybe it’ll make you loosen a little bit?” Geto touches you down there, his eyes glimmering with mischief once he witnesses for himself your state. “You’re already wet babe,” he announces, proudly presenting his wet fingers right before your eyes. “Wait for me.”

Nervously, you fix your shirt and hair as Geto runs to the living room where he pulls out a bottle of lube and discards his shirt somewhere. He wastes no time in lifting you up to the counter where dives between your legs, and you’re tugging at his hair as his tongue eagerly licks your wetness.

“Geto, ah, stop playing around!”

“Wasn’t planning on it, babe, I’m a little impatient,” Geto stands up again to kiss you for a quick second before he grabs the lube and spreads it all over his cock, his fingers experimentally prying your hole open to see if you could take it.

Once his digit slides in with ease, you moan the same time he grins wickedly.

You think he’ll go straight for it but Geto takes his time with you, making sure you’re properly stretched open before he splits you in his half with his cock. He’s really thick, after all, and your tight little cunt needs to adjust well to make sure you enjoy it rather than be in pain. Once satisfied, you pull Geto by the collar and wrap one leg around his waist to bring him closer, gasping when his tip slides between your pussy lips.

Both of you are too lost in a daze of lust to be able to speak properly. One nod from you is all he needs before he’s slipping inside your warm walls, his head falling into the juncture of your neck where he keeps grunting on how good you feel around him.

You can’t help but scratch down his back the deeper he drives his hips, the mere movement of his cock sliding against the bumpy drags of your tissues making you fall apart.

Not a minute later, your shirt is bunched up under your breasts, free for Geto to suck on while he fucks the living daylights out of you. His knuckles turn white from how hard he’s gripping the counter, another hand planted right under your knee to keep your leg spread open for him. You’re moaning openly under him, strings of fuck yeah right there and shit, Geto, you feel so good filling in the early morning air that would’ve been innocent if there weren’t such loud sounds of skin slapping against skin mixing with the chirping birds.

You squeeze Geto’s ass as he plants himself deeper inside you, setting a pace that is both mind-numbing and exhilarating.

It’s hard to believe that just days ago, you’re in the exact same place sharing waffles with him, only you’re studying math and he’s wearing glasses; professional, formal, polite – the exact opposite of the sinful things he’s doing to you right now.

Geto’s grunts are almost choked in your ear as you come hard, walls convulsing and spasming around his thick length.

He immediately pulls out his hard cock to come all over your thighs instead, watching the way your hole clenches around nothing while his slippery dick is smeared and repeatedly slapping your inner thighs. You keep gasping as you ride out your orgasm, thighs burning from the uncomfortable stretch of having one leg propped by him and the other heel planted on the counters. Geto’s moans are deep, sinful, and inherently masculine the whole while he shoots his deep all over you, creating a mess both on the counter and on your skin.

It takes a while before you both regain your breath and composure, with Geto awkwardly pulling his pants up as he laughs along with you. “So…breakfast?”

“Yeah,” you giggled, “I’m famished.”

Safe to say, that morning was spent with not much enough breakfast, but definitely lots of kissing and even more fucking around. Everything Geto said the first time you met him had been proven true – he did have a thing or two to teach you.

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spencerreidsconverse · 3 years ago

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Bets With a Vegas Boy

summary: When Spencer and Reader make a bet with high stakes, their stubborn sides show, but when a consulting officer has his eyes on reader, Spencer has to step in.

word count: 4.9k

warnings: SMUT (breeding kink, daddy kink, a bit of degradation, semipublic sex,) unrequited flirting, criminal minds style violence, suggested cannibalism, reader has multiple tattoos

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: This took me forever to finish as I was on vacation! I hope you all enjoy it!

“Y/N, have you ever met Reid? You’re supposed to be smart, why would you willingly sign up for this?” You scoffed at JJ’s words. When Penelope Garcia is involved it seems that no news traveled slowly, proven by the entire BAU’s new knowledge of the bet you had made with boy genius after bickering about which of you was more clingy. “JJ, you really underestimate me that much?” She shook her head in disbelief “You know that’s not it, but come on Y/N! Seriously, he’s banned from every casino in Vegas! Why would you bet against that?” “JJ, he was banned because he can count cards. It’s not like we’re playing Black Jack for christ’s sake!” She weighed the idea for a moment and you could see the wheels turning in her head. “Okay that’s true, but still. He’s the most stubborn man I’ve ever met. I seriously hope whatever he has in mind for your forfeit isn’t as bad as yours.” You laughed, imaging Spencer in the predicament you were positive he would be in the thick of by the end of the week.

“I think he’d look good with one, you don’t agree?” JJ rolled her eyes as you both made your way out of the elevator towards the glass doors. “That’s not my point Y/N, don’t you think it’s a little harsh? I mean he’s not like you, how do you know he’d even want one?” You smirked, remembering the first time you’d met Dr. Spencer Reid. You had been brought on to the team a few short years ago after an implemented policy that required an even amount of field agents so there were partners for every investigation. You thought it was a bit condescending, requiring the most brilliant minds in the nation to follow the buddy system, but it gave you a job and for that you were thankful. It had its perks though, one of which being your immediate pairing with Reid. You were as young as him and not far behind in brilliance. What you lacked in eidetic memory and forgein language fluency, you more than made up for in marksmanship and street smarts. You and Reid got along fine, even if it was a bit tense at first. He was thoroughly convinced he didn’t need a babysitter.

“I’m a grown man! Why would I need to be watched every second of the day? The last thing we need is a liability.” you remembered the words like it was yesterday. You had been approaching him from behind, and overheard his rant. “Well, technically since we’re the same age, I’d hardly consider myself a babysitter. Would you trust your child’s care with someone their age?” Spencer had turned himself around so fast he’d almost fallen off the desk he was perched atop. “Y-you must be Agent Y/N! It’s uh nice to meet you?” He cringed at the tone of his voice, and you burst out with giggles before shaking your head. “Don’t worry Dr. Reid, I understand it must be a difficult situation for you. I mean, if I were the resident genius I wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea of being shown up either.” The dark-skinned woman who had previously been engaging him in his sour mood let out a surprised chuckle and you watched his face turn from embarrassment to shock and finally settle on disbelief. “Wh- Excuse me?” You felt your stomach begin to cramp as his reaction made you laugh further and you clutched your files against your chest. You fought to catch your breath for a few seconds before regaining your composure. “Excuse my reaction, Dr. Reid but I couldn’t resist. No hard feelings?” He nodded mutely and you saw a soft smile crack through his mock stern expression. You turned to introduce yourself to the woman next to him, Tara Lewis. You made small talk for a few more minutes while Reid scribbled away at his desk before Emily called all of you to the round table with a case.

Nerves had struck you then, and you stood frozen instead of joining Tara in her stride. “Y/N, everything okay?” You jumped slightly as you heard Reid’s voice from behind you. “Oh! Yes, sorry!” You moved out of his way, trying your best not to stumble over an empty desk and failing miserably. He stretched his hands out and caught you, much to your embarrassment. “Are you sure you’re okay? Are you feeling ill?” You shook your head quickly. “No! No, I'm fine, really.” He looked into your eyes and you tried to ignore the sparks you felt deep in your chest. “Y/N you’re working with profilers now, lying that poorly will never work around here.” His joke succeeded in its attempt to lighten the mood and you let out a soft laugh despite your anxiety. “I’m just a little nervous I guess. I didn’t expect to have a case so soon.” He nodded and his thumb absentmindedly rubbed soothing circles on your sleeve. “I understand. We all felt that way at first. I won’t say it’s easy, but we’re all here to support you. Take a few deep breaths.” You did as he instructed and you felt your nerves ease as he consoled you. “That’s better. Besides, what could you have to worry about? You have the best partner here.” You laughed, and he released your arm. “I’ll meet you in there.” and with that he left you standing there trying to lock down the feelings he had just arisen in you. “Nice Y/N, crush on your partner first thing. What a great start.” you muttered to yourself

A few moments later you joined the rest of the team at the table and quickly reviewed the case, before lifting off 45 minutes later to a small town in Georgia. Everything felt like a whirlwind and you did your best to keep up. True to what Spencer had said, the team helped you get your bearings and by the end of the night you were making great strides along with the rest of them. It was near midnight when Emily dismissed you all to the hotel a few blocks away to get a few hours of rest. You were thankful, having poorly attempted to drown your tiredness with watery coffee from the small pot at the station, and you made your way to the hotel as swiftly as you could manage. When you were all gathered in the lobby, Emily handed out the keycards and it quickly dawned on you how the room assignments would work. You tried to shake off the thought and prayed that the night would go quickly. It made sense to just put the partners together, it made keeping track of everyone easier and allowed for quick communication between the team. You told yourself all the reasons it was logical as you made your way up to your room.

Spencer left you to your thoughts, but he could see how hard you were focusing. He unlocked the door and the lights switched on as you both made your way towards your beds. You heard him ask you something, and turned awkwardly to face him “Sorry, what’d you say?” He looked at you, a mix of amusement and concern on his face. “I asked if you wanted to shower first. Are you okay?” “Oh! Yeah, thanks. I’m okay, just thinking about the case.” You hoped you had lied better this time and were relieved that he seemed to buy it. “Just try to shut your mind off of it for now, I know it’s hard. Trust me, you’ll feel much better when you’re refreshed.” You nodded at his words and pulled some pajamas out of your go-bag. “Thanks Spencer. I’ll try not to take too long.” He shrugged you off “No worries, take your time.” You shut yourself behind the door and tried to shake the feelings out of your head. “Get a grip Y/N. You’re being crazy.” You scolded yourself before showering. You hurried despite Spencer’s insistence and quickly made your way out of the shower to dry yourself off. You applied lotion to your ink-covered skin and slipped on your shorts and t-shirt before drying your hair as fast as you could and making your way out of the bathroom. You dropped your folded clothes on top of your bag, alerting Spencer that you were done.

“That was fast, you really didn’t have to-” his words died in his throat as he looked up from the file in his lap and caught sight of your legs, covered in the intricate artwork that stretched across the skin. You tried to ignore his watchful gaze. “It’s no problem! I wanted to save you some hot water.” He thanked you quietly and made his way to the bathroom hurriedly, trying not to look at you again. You tried to fall asleep but you couldn’t get him out of your head. A few more minutes passed and he made his way over to his bed, trying to will the awkward tension out of the room. You both eventually managed to fall asleep without speaking another word.

The tension continued to grow over the next few months and the rest of the team were getting sick of watching you two dance around each other. You both denied any advances, shot down the chance to go out on any of the numerous blind dates members of the team offered to set up, and chose instead to trade glances across the bullpen and divulge your personal lives over breakroom lunches. Eventually, they made plans for a team outing and convinced you both to attend. Penelope made reservations at a nice restaurant, announcing that everyone just had to try their food. That night however, you showed up to Spencer waiting awkwardly at a table for two in the back corner with a sour face. “Where’s the rest of the team?” You asked him, taking the seat across from him. “Apparently they’ve all had to cancel. Luckily, the reservation was for two.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion and you made a mental note to scold Garcia. “Well, since we’re here I’m happy to eat. I’m starving.” Spencer’s eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly, agreeing with you. After an evening of great food and better wine, the rest was history, and you found yourself thanking Garcia the next day instead. You and Spencer had been dating for just over two years now, though he’d be able to count it down to the second you’d showed up looking angelic at the restaurant that night. You both complimented each other perfectly and you had a relationship stronger than either of you could have dreamed of.

“Hello?? Y/N are you even listening to me?” JJ’s words and nudge against your shoulder brought you back to present day and you snapped your eyes back to her face. “Yes! Sorry JJ I was just thinking… Anyways, we’ve talked about it before. He loves all of mine, and he’s talked about getting one. He’s just afraid of the pain, and too indecisive to choose what he wants.” You blushed softly as you thought about the many nights spent in your shared bed, Spencer tracing the black lines with his fingertips. He adored them and thought they made you especially unique, not to mention he found them extremely sexy. He favored the black sun on your ribcage, shaded to perfection. Even when you were clothed he would run his hand along the fabric that covered the piece.

“Well still, if you do happen to win, I can’t imagine he’ll go along with it.” You smirked and shook your head. “We’ll see about that JJ.” You both sat at your desks, and began to work through your piles of paperwork. You were thankful there was no case that needed your immediate attention, but paperwork always made you feel like a nap by the time lunch came around. You pushed yourself away from your desk, and stood to find yourself nearly chest to chest with your boyfriend who had stood at the same time. “Oh, sorry Spence. I just need coffee.” You maneuvered your way around him, missing the way he would usually grab your hips to aid you. He followed you to the break room and you poured him a cup as well leaving plenty of room for sugar. Instead of handing it to him with a quick peck on the cheek however, you left it on the counter to be picked up. “You really think you can go a week without touching me?” You heard his voice from the doorway. “It’s already been 3 days.” You said uninterestedly with a shrug, and he eyed you suspiciously. “Okay fine, no. I just think I can go longer than you can.” You finally admitted, smirking back at him.

He grabbed the mug from the counter, adding several teaspoons of sugar before taking a sip. “We’ll see about that. You’re the one that’s always curling yourself around me.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh yeah, like you hate it. You’re the one that’s always rubbing my back and holding my hand under tables. Even when we’re on the metro home you’ve got your hand in mine.” He narrowed his eyes at you and stuck his tongue out, making you chuckle. “Very mature Dr. Reid. I can’t wait to win.” He opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by Luke who stuck his head in to alert you both of the new case you’d be working. You let out a long sigh. “So much for paperwork.” The three of you made your way to the round table and sat, Spencer curling his hand into a fist to keep himself from subconsciously reaching over to place his hand on your leg.

“So, we are assisting in a local case this time, with Washington state PD about a string of murders in the homeless community. However, there’s been hefty construction in their field office so they will be joining us here.” Penelope quickly took the lead after Emily’s announcement and filled you all in about the details. She ran through the few details the local PD managed to uncover on their own and the team had only managed a few minutes of brainstorming when a group of police officers made their way through the glass doors of the BAU. There were only a handful of officers which surprised all of you, and Emily led the rest of you out of the conference room, beelining her way to the chief. “Hello, Landon. It’s nice to see you again.” She shook his hand briefly. “Likewise Emily, though I wish it was under different circumstances.” “As do I. I’m sorry for the miscommunication, I was under the impression that your entire force would be joining us. Is that not the case?” The chief, Landon Bridges you now knew him as, shook his head. “We knew you had a pretty tight space and we have a lot of members. I brought a few people from each department and figured it’d be easiest to fill everyone else in periodically. We didn’t want to overflow your space and leave no room to work.” Emily nodded and rested her hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate the thought, thank you. This is the rest of my team. SSAs Jennifer Jareau, Luke Alves, Matt Simmons, David Rossi, Y/N Y/L/N, Drs Spencer Reid and Tara Lewis, and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” You all gestured as Emily quickly introduced you, and a short time later you were all acquainted and working throughout the bullpen. You and Spencer were just beginning to start the geographical profile when one of the Washington police officers, Kline, made his way over to you. “Pardon me agents, do you need any help?” You looked up from your section of the grid lines and smiled at him which he returned brightly, but before you could answer, Spencer dismissed him. Kline’s face fell slightly but he nodded and made his way over to where Tara and Luke were reviewing the last known areas of the victims.

You turned and stared at Spencer in disbelief. He looked up after a few seconds, feeling your eyes burning a hole through the top of his head. “Yes?” You glared at him harder, before railing into him in a hushed tone “Don’t ‘yes?’ me. That was insanely rude. They’re here to help us! Quit acting all high and mighty.” He stared back at you and you saw the stubbornness light up his eyes. “Why should I? We could solve this case twice as fast without them getting in the way.” He knew he was talking too loud, and was more than aware of Kline who was staring at his back with a sour look resting on his face. “Spencer! I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to fix it. You’re being an ass.” He rolled his eyes and you both let out a sigh before looking back down at the maps covering the desktop beneath you.

A few hours passed before you and Spencer finished the geographical profile, and you gestured Kline over to ask him a few questions about the area you’d narrowed down. Spencer noticed he had made his way to your side and bit his lip to keep himself silent. “Officer Kline, can you tell me anything about this area of the block? It seems like a lot of our victims were last seen in this area.” He eyed the map where red ink stained the paper and pondered for a few seconds. “Well, there’s not much out there really. A few older shops and some construction to the east” he gestured to the empty spot of land on the map “but nothing of real interest. We don’t usually get calls for the homeless population over here either. There’s not really much shelter so they don’t usually go towards this way” Your brow furrowed and you nodded, thanking him but before he could get another word in Spencer piped up. “Kline, if the homeless population doesn’t “Go that way” he mocked the officer in front of you, and Kline tensed up in response “then why are they all disappearing from the area? Does that make sense to you?”

Kline struggled to respond and you glared at Spencer before assuring Kline there was no need for him to pay Spencer any mind, excusing his behavior with a rambling about late nights and too little coffee. Kline walked away and you stared Spencer down for several seconds before making your way towards the main group to deliver the geographic profile, leaving Spencer to sulk. You continued to avoid Spencer until you were sent out to investigate the block you sectioned off with Emily and JJ. You opted to drive which left Spencer in the passenger seat, fuming at your silent treatment and JJ and Emily trying to fight the tension in the SUV to no avail.

You parked the SUV a few blocks away and the four of you walked the rest of the way to avoid raising too much suspicion. You were standing in the center of the unsubs hot zone when you noticed a line of people clustered in front of one of the more rundown buildings. The building had wide front windows that had been taped over with brown paper, as well as the glass doors. You and Spencer approached the group warily, trying to get closer to see the poorly written signs on the door.

“DISCOUNT MEAT - PRE-COOKED”

“12pm-12am”

You gestured Emily and JJ over and the four of you quickly aimed to disperse the crowd much to their displeasure. After several minutes of arguing and multiple badge flashes you managed to succeed and stood outside the door ready to investigate once the owner opened his doors. Fifteen minutes had passed without any sign of movement from the inside and Spencer began to shift anxiously, causing you to do the same. A few more seconds passed and you heard the locks on the door click, reaching your hand around to rest on your holster automatically. As soon as the door opened, Emily pushed through holding her badge and announcing the reason for your investigation.

The shop owner immediately demanded you leave and not return unless you had a warrant. “Actually, because this is no longer a registered business it becomes property of the town and therefore is subject to any kind of local or national investigation under Property law 14, sections 3a-3f go more in depth about the issue if you feel the need to verify.” Spencer explained the situation while sifting through the counter drawers, leaving the man to sit in silent rage while Emily and JJ questioned him. You bent over to fiddle with a padlock on a hollowed bench seat on the far wall and pulled one of the pins out of your hair to pick it. A few seconds of tampering later, the lock gave way with a satisfying click and you pulled the bench open. A rancid smell hit your nose and stomach before you could process what you were seeing. Body parts were wrapped in butcher's paper and poorly taped, and you fought to keep your breakfast down as you slammed the bench shut. Emily then stood the man up and cuffed him, while reciting the miranda rights. JJ followed her out and you followed her quickly, trying and failing to erase the memory from your mind.

Back at the office, the rest of the team and several of the officers had already begun processing the unsubs case and there was little left to be done by the time you returned. You filled out your files and quickly wrote out your account of the incident before heading to the breakroom for a cup of coffee. You pulled your mug down from the shelf and pressed your favorite individual pod into the machine and pressed the button to let it run. You were digging in the fridge for your creamer when a deep voice startled you

“Little late for coffee isn’t it?” You turned swiftly to find Kline standing in the doorway and you let out a small sigh. “When you work like we do, it’s never too late for coffee” You smiled and made your cup to your taste, taking a long sip. You expected Kline to just grab what he wanted and leave, but instead he continued to make awkward conversation despite you going so far as to begin scrolling through your phone. “So, that Spencer guy is really a piece of work huh?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes and instead remained focused on your screen, telling yourself that he just didn’t get the chance to see the good side of Spencer like everyone else there had. “He’s really not a bad guy, he’s just had a long day. We all have.” Kline nodded but moved closer to you, so close that you could smell his headache-inducing cologne. “I’m just saying, if I had the opportunity to work with you every day, I wouldn’t waste my time arguing with you. I’d treat you right.”

You shifted uncomfortably, praying he would pick up on your uneasiness and back off but instead he moved to corner you against the counter. You tried to excuse yourself but your voice caught in your throat.

“Kline, I really overestimated you. I figured even a man as dimwitted as yourself would be able to tell when a woman isn’t interested but here we are.” Your head snapped up towards the doorway where Spencer was standing. Kline turned around and prepared himself to tell your boyfriend off when he froze. Spencer had the look in his eye that sent chills down your spine and made it very aware to Kline that there was no use fighting. He quickly left the room and you and Spencer held eye contact for several seconds before he spoke again “Meet me in the storage room at the end of the hall in 2 minutes.” His voice made your legs feel weak and you nodded, dumping the contents of your mug down the drain, keeping your pace in check as you slipped into the hallway.

You had barely unlatched the door when Spencer pushed it the rest of the way open and you felt yourself being dragged into the dimly lit space. You barely had time to let out a surprised squeak when you felt his lips against your throat, turning your noise into one of pleasure. His kisses quickly turned sharp, applying the expertly rehearsed amount of pressure to avoid marks but to still send shockwaves of heat to your core. “Spence” his name left your lips in a whine while he busied himself unbuttoning your blouse. “Spencer, you just lost the bet.” You felt a smirk grow across your face that disappeared as he hiked your skirt up to your hips while rubbing your clit through your panties. “Fuck the bet, Y/N. I’m sick of seeing you walk around here clueless. You know I’ve been all over Kline’s ass, little girl?” His voice dropped lower and he lifted you up to push you against the wall. “It’s because he couldn’t stop looking at yours.” You let out a moan as he pushed your panties to the side, slipping two of his fingers into you.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet. Did me getting all protective of you turn you on? You like making daddy jealous?” You shook your head as well as you could manage, trying to keep your volume in check. “Answer me pet, or you’re not gonna get daddy’s cock in you like I know you’re desperate for.” You whimpered at his words “No! I-I wasn’t trying to make you jealous daddy I swear!” You stuttered as he began to spread you further with his fingers. He smiled against the exposed skin of your chest before removing his fingers. “That’s my good girl. You ready for daddy?” You nodded as he fiddled with his belt buckle, moaning in anticipation as he released his cock from his slacks. You bit your lip as he ran the tip over your folds, sucking in a harsh breath as he pushed himself deep inside you. He let you adjust for a moment while he sucked at your neck again. “Daddy, please move. Please, I need you.” He let his hips move, pulling almost all the way out of you before slamming you forward into the wall again. You let out a moan as he thrusted in and out of you. You felt like your skin was on fire, the lack of touch over the past days made everything more intense.

A few more minutes passed and you felt yourself growing dangerously close to the edge. “Spence I’m gonna cum” you felt his pace grow even more rapid and he circled your clit with his thumb. “I’m gonna cum inside you angel. I’m gonna fill you up with my kid. You want that huh? Want everyone to know that you belong to me, don’t you?” You moaned at his words “God yes, please daddy. Please cum inside me!” You felt his hips stutter under you and a familiar warmth as you finally climaxed. Your toes curled and your head fell back against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“God Y/N that was amazing.” You let out a soft whimper as he pulled out of you and lowered you back down to your feet. He kissed you, pulling you closer than before. “I love you Spencer. Only you.” He touched the tip of his nose to yours and returned your words, while you both caught your breath. A few minutes later you both exited the closet, and tried to smoothly make your way back to your desks. Washington PD had finished the bureau required paperwork and had already left so things were much quieter.

You had just sat down when JJ looked up from her computer. “So Spence, whatcha gonna get?” His head snapped up and your cheeks flushed. “Wh-What?” he managed to stutter out. “From the diner? Garcia said she would run out and get dinner.” You both let out simultaneous sighs of relief and told her what you wanted, settling in for a long night.

The next weekend you had free, you found yourselves in one of your favorite spots. The low pitched buzzing added to Spencer’s anxiety as he tried to divert his focus to the bright neon signs. You held his hand, stroking it with your thumb as you waited for your tattoo artist and best friend, Vannessa, to finish Spencer’s design. You tried to distract him but before long she called you back to the table and you heard his breathing quicken. You helped him get settled on the table while Vannessa applied the stencil. She adjusted it until Spencer and you both approved and then she started. Spencer tightened his grip on your hand as she traced the lines while you murmured words of encouragement in his ear. Half an hour later, she was running Spencer through the after care process while wrapping his forearm up. You paid her and made your way out of the shop after thanking her.

Slipping into the driver’s seat, you watched as Spencer carefully maneuvered his way into the car, fastening his seatbelt and resting his arm against the door. The streetlight shining through his window highlighted his forearm perfectly, revealing the perfectly mimicked shape of a shaded black sun.

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afirewiel · 3 years ago

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In Defense of Alexander Colbourne

I have to address this post and the numerous replies on it. I just cannot see this and not talk about it because I love Alexander Colbourne too much to remain silent. I’m doing this in my own thread because I’m not looking to start a fight. I just feel like I have to say something.

First off, he did not abandon Lucy! I think one of the many things people are missing is that in 2x03 Augusta says Lucy would stay with them when she was in London. She was with her twin sister, brother-in-law, and niece. She was with family. She was not alone or friendless by any means and Alexander knew that. Returning home without her is not abandonment, especially since it was understood that she would soon follow. They were essentially on vacation and she extended her stay while he simply wished to go home. That was not unheard of back then and even in the now it happens.

Also it was not a year. He said a season, which is at most a few months. She was supposed to come home at the end of it but did not. And he was the one to go after her.

Secondly, you cannot accuse him of mentally abusing Lucy when we do not know what he actually said. We do know he feels guilty for saying it, that is all. He lashed out in anger and pain because his wife had cheated on him. Any man in that situation would have been just as angry. But here’s the thing. Any other man in that situation would have publicly exposed the affair, ruining Lucy’s reputation, and thrown her out onto the street to starve to death for all he cared and putting an end to their marriage. And society would have held him blameless.

But he didn’t do that. He took Lucy home and kept her with him. Even through his anger, he kept the affair quiet and let her live with him still. Which shows me that despite his own pain, deep down he was hoping to try and make things work with Lucy. He never wanted her dead.

As for putting the blame for solely on his words, both you and he are over looking the fact that there are many factors to suicide. She had just given birth after all. It could have been postpartum depression. It could have been her own guilt at the affair. It could have been any number of factors or a mix of them all. Depression and suicide are just not that straight forward.

I also find this idea that he only started feeling guilty because of Charlotte to be the most absurd part of the whole discussion. “The words I spoke haunt me to this day!” Those were his words! He didn’t just start feeling guilty recently. He’s been feeling guilty for years! They have been tormenting him. It isn’t a recent thing. It’s been an ongoing thing.

And if he hadn’t been feeling guilty, why keep the affair quiet? Why wasn’t it public knowledge if he had believed himself to be blameless this whole time? To save his own reputation? No, because as I’ve already pointed out he would have been held blameless in the matter in the eyes of society. The only thing keeping quiet does is save Lucy’s reputation. Not his. So why spare her reputation, if he was a heartless jerk would didn’t care and felt no guilt?

For that matter, what about Leo? If he did not care about Lucy at all and only thought of himself, he would have dropped Leo off at an orphanage after Lucy died. He certainly wouldn’t have kept her. He certainly wouldn’t have told the world she was his daughter and given her his name, insuring her a good life and a good standing in society. He’s been protecting Leo this whole time! Why do that if he had no conscience?

What about Augusta? She’s only his niece through marriage and not a blood relative. The moment he found out about the affair, he could have severed all ties with Lucy’s family. He could have turned his back when he heard Augusta had been orphaned. Again, he did not. He took her in too. Why do that if he didn’t care?

The only reason he wasn’t a better guardian at the beginning of the season is because he truly believed it was better for their sakes that he not be close to them. Once Charlotte points out that that is hurting them, however, he changes his behavior and steps up and becomes more involved. Even giving his word to Leo that he’ll be a better father to her.

Someone in the replies, I think, said that he should have told Charlotte sooner if he truly cared. What utter nonsense. Charlotte had no right to know. She wasn’t a part of the problem. She wasn’t entitled to know. The only reason she’s involved at all is because Colonel Lennox lied about what had happened to her and she wanted the truth. Alexander would have been well within his rights to tell her it was a private matter and that it was none of her business. Yet, he chose to tell her.

Alexander Colbourne is not a perfect man. No one is. He has his flaws like everyone else, but he is not the heartless villain some are making him out to be. He may not have been the best husband to Lucy, but from what we can see of his behavior afterwards, he is truly trying to be a better man. And it is who he is now that matters.

And what about Colonel Lennox? I’ve not see one person bashing Alexander Colbourne attacking him for his behavior. He went after a married woman! Had an affair with her and then left her to deal with the consequences by herself! If he cared for her at all, he would have stayed and faced Colbourne with her, but nope. He left and poor Lucy had to deal with it all on her own.

And then he had the audacity to act like he was just a victim and that Mr. Colbourne was the only guilty party. Worse, he used Lucy to try and push Mr. Colbourne and Charlotte apart! And you cannot tell me he did so because he was genuinely concerned for Charlotte. No. Nope. Just no! He did so because Charlotte rejected him and didn’t want her and Colbourne to be happy. Colonel Lennox is the villain. Not Mr. Colbourne.

#sanditon #alexander colbourne #rant

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uncpanda · 4 years ago

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The Ties that Bind: Nuances

Synopsis of series: Being the older sister of a literal genius? It’s not easy. Raising said genius from childhood on? An act of love. Uprooting your life again when he gets in over his head? A no brainer. Finding a new family and support system for yourself? Well, you suppose that’s just luck.

Master List

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x platonic!reader (We’ve entered slow burn territory) and Spencer Reid X Sister!reader

What’s something you guys would like to see in this series? Any special moments? Any special episodes?

“I’m going to die, a horrific and painful death. I can see it now.”

Aaron doesn’t even look up from his book he’s picked up on your little nuances in the past three months; ever since you stormed his office after a serial killer nearly killed him and your brother. He knows you still have a punchline to get to, “Seriously Aaron, internet dating, it’s going to kill me. You should see the weirdos on here.”

He lets out a huff that you know is actually a laugh, “I do. Everyday. At work. Could I interest you in a nunnery instead?”

You scoff, “No thank you. I like sex too much.”

You glance over to see the tips of his ears go red, and you smile to yourself, before moving from his kitchen table, to the spot next to him on the couch. His eyes move to you, “Yes?”

“Tell me if my dating profile is good?”

His brow furrows, “You’re asking for dating advice from me? The divorced guy?”

You roll your eyes, “You must have done something right. You convinced Haley to marry you, you got through nearly fifteen years of marriage and had an adorable kid.”

He stares at you for a second before saying, “When you make a point, you really make it.” He plucks the phone out of your hands and begins scrolling, and then he scowls, “You didn’t take this seriously at all, did you?”

“Not a bit, and you should see some of the messages I’ve gotten.”

He flips through them, and you watch in amusement, “Some of these guys need to be on our watch list.” He mutters. And then more loudly, so that you’re intended to hear, “How do you delete this thing? There has to be a better way than this.”

You roll your eyes, and he watches to make sure you delete the fake profile and the app. Grinning, you ask, “Want to make one for you?”

“I do just fine, thank you. I have Dave.”

“Let me guess, the two of you are cruising jazz bars.”

“How old do you think I am?”

“Let’s see, you were born in ‘71 and it’s 2008 now. . .” Your lips twitch and he rolls his eyes at your teasing. Finally, you allow your body to just tip into his; you head landing on his shoulder. He stiffens briefly, still not used to casual touch, or maybe he’s still just touch starved, but after a few seconds he allows his body to relax, and to your surprise his head tips towards yours and a second later his cheek is resting on top of your head.

It’s a position you’ve held with Spencer numerous times, but with Aaron there are butterflies in your belly, and a thought crosses your mind, and then you squash it. Because he’s not ready for anything else, he’s only been divorced a few months, and you . . . well you’re still raw from Joel, and you don’t think you can handle being a consolation prize again.

So you wait an appropriate amount of time and then shift away, and the way Aaron’s eyes chase you tells you he wasn’t quite ready for the contact to end, but you need to get going.

“Okay, I better head out. I have to make sure Spencer ate something green this week other than candy.”

Aaron smiles, “I made him eat a salad on Tuesday when we ordered in, while on a case.”

You laugh, and swoop your purse up, “Then I owe you one.”

“Are we still on for coffee Tuesday?”

“As long as a serial killer doesn’t drag you away.”

“I’ll keep you updated.”

You make it to Spencer’s in record time, even after stopping for groceries. And of course when your brother opens the door, his nose is buried in a book. A new one you'd guess, because he’s actually taking his time reading it and he barely gives you a grunt in greeting.

You set the groceries down, pluck the book from his hand, and smile when he glares at you, “I was reading that.”

“And you can have it back, after you go through the norms of polite society.”

He rolls his eyes, and moves in to give you a hug, snatching the book back, before saying, “Hello. Welcome to my home. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Smartass.”

He sets the book down on the coffee table, “I get it from you.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

He settles down on the couch, and you take the overstuffed armchair, while eyeing the new stack of books, “Go to the book store today?”

“Several. A lot of my independent bookstores were having some good sales. I picked up a few for you.”

“Thanks.”

“What about you, what have you been up to?”

You shrug, “Nothing much.” He doesn’t know about you becoming friends with Aaron. You imagine he’d freak out. He always did when you talked to people of authority in his life.

His eyes narrow, “Really?”

“Really.”

There’s a moment of silence as though he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying before he gives in, “What are we making for dinner?”

“We?”

“I thought I’d put up a pretense of cooking at the very least.”

And you laugh as the normal and the easy replaces the uncertainty of earlier. And you’re very grateful for that, because you’re nowhere near ready to process any of that.

Tag List (If your name has a strike through it means that it won’t let me tag you):

@hateinthemorning @nightressposts @bulldozed88 @toastedside @am3l1a-24 @wintelu @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @moonwarriorx3 @fallen-wolf22 @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @kathleenjasmine @l-vvne @sekhmet5

@lil-frenchfri77 @prettylittlemoonlight @webreathfandoms

@fandomsstolemylife00 @gracesd1ary @eli-side-blog @sleepy-time

@bcarolinablr @acoolnight @violet-potter @ssavanessa22

@inlovewithhonestlyeveryone @louisaland @averyhotchner

@lostinwonderland314 @prentisswrites @starandbooklover @vxxn128 @csloreen @srosegarden @zetasaturno99 @greenprisca @rouge-fandoms @fandom-oneshots-etc @elejah88 @cm-chaos @thestarssalign @gspenc

@mochionly @Jinxy_175 @big-galaxy-chaos @princess76179

#aaron hotch x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid and reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid reader insert #spencer reid x sister!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #the ties that bind

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lizandbo · 4 years ago

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cuddling w/ mha bois<3

Kirishima

-ok, but like c’mon this man is the fcuking definition of “cuddles4life”

- the best cuddles by far

- if he would be goin in the contest for who’s the best cuddling partner it would be him

- i would like to think either he loves spooning you or/ and facing each other and talking about whatever the fuck ya want and give occasional kisses n pecks

- he loves to cuddle you, anytime and anywhere he could get his cuddles he would

- in his sleep, he would sprawl out like a mf starfish

- numerous of times he pushed you off the bed becuase of it

- it wasn’t fun when he woke up, and see you weren’t there...so was trying to look for you cuz like...he needs his cuddlingz>:O

- but then he stepped on you, trampled a bit, left for you to fucking perish from being stepped on like a mcfucking rat

- so yeah you def woke up then

- anyway, besides you dying on the ground... comfort cuddling is a fuckin must

- always always always cuddles when you have a bad day

- cuddles everyday

- if you dont like cuddling well to fucking bad becuase here we are cuddling

- wait why did i say if you dont like cuddling..then why are you even reading about this, this is everything about cuddling

wtf is wrong with me

- completely covers you, no matter what, tall? Short? Extra meat on your bones? Who the fuck cares, he’s still cuddling you

- its his mission to cuddle you

- hugs are a must too

- also i headcanon he has to have a fan while sleeping too

bakugo

- when you asked for cuddles, he questioned “what the hell is that, a fighting move or sometin?”

- like, bro...never heard of C U D D L I N G?!

- he didnt really like cuddling at first, he didnt know what to do, where did he put his clammy ass hands? am i holding them too tight?

-its this whole big ordeal about him being stiff as a fucking board, and then he got too hot cuz he’s a human heater

- i almost said human eater

- BUT! After a month or so, he got the gist of it:)

- likes when your head is on his chest and vice versa

- but normally he wakes up weird, there is no telling if he’s gonna have a sleepy pillow fight with you while he’s sleeping because he still is dangerous in his fucking SLEEP

- softly talks in his sleep too

- but its not softly cuz like, god damnnn does he have a gravely voice

- its concerning? At least for meXD

- he also likes to lay on your thighs and lay his head on your stomach

- sweats in bed:( I’m sorry but he does

- every morning has sweat in the fucking bed

- you guys have no blanket, but yet he still fucking sweats

- anyways, I think he would be a light sleeper, so if you move in bed too much...he will wake you up and telling you that you woke him up

- but your like?? Ok, i woke you but why you have to wake me?? Bitch??

- but in his god damn peabrain thinks its a win win so;-;

- he wouldn’t cuddle during the day tho, he has a reputation to keep up

Midoriya

- flustered boi

- he’s a very cuddly person but at the same time tho, he doesnt know what to do

- i feel liek when he was a child, ya know how Inko was very close (and still very close) to midoriya?well, maybe they cuddled together?

- when he was having a bad day or somethinf

- he fucking LOVES cuddling

- he mumbles and rambles while cuddling a lot too

- either It would be hero’s, how much he loves you, etc

- basically everything under the fucking sun

- cuddles give his anxiousness a break for once

- his favorite position is liek hugging you built cuddling at the same time, does that make senseXD

- he has a lot snacks in the bed so he gets nasty ass crumbs in the bed

- but he does feed you snack at the same time so, how could you say no?

- late night snacks is a yes

- the snack choice is yours

- ok idk why this popped into my head..by what if they have like all might themed..goldfish or like teddy gram cracker thingys ya know?

- if they are real he would def have them

- looks at his phone at night too, so he would have one arm around you and scrolling on his phone:)

- while your here to fucking die like a mf shriveled up rat, suffocated from izuku’s neck

- ok, i never cuddled anyone but, everyone said I shove their heads into their s/o neck, but like wouldn’t they just cant breathe?

- I’m curiousXD

- ok this is about you and izuku cuddling not MY FUCKING THOUGHTS

- anyway, yeah, izuku loves to hold you in his arms, it makes you actually feel real

Todoroki

- stiff as a motherfuckin stone slab

- he doesnt know what to do when someone is touching him becuase he is a touch starved baby:(

- hair messy in the mornings too

- just like Bakugo, he would question what the fuck is cuddling

- i feel like he would find cuddling fun and precious becuase he never experienced it

- the only ’affection‘ that he would ever get was form Fuyumi, but it wasn’t really affection

- he has seen so many toxic relationships, cuddling never was spoken of

- BUT NOW HE KNOWS AND LOVES

- plus once you do it daily, he’s gonna act pretty pouty when you leave from a cuddling session

- but still has that stoic face™

- he likes spooning, he doesnt care if he is a lil spoon or a big one

- he really loves anything but..he does really like spooning

- it would be very...quiet

- it doesnt matter if you are cuddling in the middle of the day or at night

- he’s more a listener than a speaker, this might be obvious but oh well

- I just think he would love cuddles but if anyone interrupts then he’s gonna be more upset cuz liek...HE LOVES OYU AND WANNA HAVE THE BEST TIME IN THE WORLD WITH YOU-

- he’s a real simp for ya btw

denki

- movies + cuddling = Y E S

- he always has movies as a background becuase he doesnt really like silence

- he doesnt care if he sweats, he will have the blanket either way

- also a blanket hogger

- it would be good at some point becuase you wouldn’t sweat like him

- back to the movie part, he always watches the same damn thing over and over again

- to the point that he knows all the lyrics to multiple movies

- his favoircuddling position is when he’s on top of you

- I’m sorry but he sprawls like mf starfish too

- soemtimes you cant breathe...but we aint talking bout thattttt:)

- plays monster’s inc A LOT

- no matter how many fucking times he sees it, he still laughs in the funny parts of the movie like a fucking hyena

- plays video games a lot so hes gonna have a bunch of video game dates with you

-Mario cart and cuddles? Yes fucking please

- sign me the fuck up

- also the best at Mario cats and 60 seconds

- even tho you both are up at like 2AM playing video games and cuddling each other likethe life depends on you guys

- you.are.cuddling.no.matter.fucking.WHAT

- he likes to interlock his finngers too

- he ALSO (once againXD) likes to zap you for no fucking reason

- fucked up prick >:(

511 notes · View notes

mcufox123 · 3 years ago

Text

Poofed

WandaxFemReader

Summary: Wanda copes with a life that may not have you in it.

Warnings: Devestation

A/N: This story literally is heartbreaking but in a good way I think. Let me know what you guys think!

****************************************************************************************************

You wake up suddenly to your hand being kicked. It was wrapped around your wife’s very pregnant belly as you both tried to sleep through the night. You smiled dreamily in your sleepy state as you were reminded of the twins who would be born any day now.

You and your wife were a part of the famous superhero group who saved the world numerous times. Shortly after she joined and got acclimated with the team the two of you started dating. It has now been 7 years of being together, 3 of them being married. You had moved out of the compound and were now living in your dream house in the countryside, the perfect place for your growing family.

While Wanda was able to take leave months ago as none of the team wanted your children hurt, you still went to work every day. The team promised that once they were born you would be given 3 months to spend with your family but until then “there were still bad guys out there” in Tony's words of course.

You checked the time to see you still had a half an hour to spare before you had to be at the compound. You made Wanda breakfast and set it up next to her then you got ready for your day. You showered, got changed and before you left you wrote two sticky notes to leave on your wife’s mirror. One saying, “I love you more than chocolate chip cookies.” The second said, “You are looking like such a hot mama today.” You left a kiss on Wanda’s forehead and whispered an ‘I love you’ then you went to work.

Wanda woke later that morning with a smile on her face. She saw the breakfast you set up and immediately started eating because she was starving. After her breakfast in bed, she showered before seeing the notes you left. She actually laughed out loud. Even when you weren’t home you always made her day. She sent you a quick text.

Hi my love! Thank you so much for breakfast! I love you more than tv shows!

After that Wanda went about her day normally before she got bored and decided to go to the compound. When she arrived she saw Bucky and Sam watching tv.

“Hey boys,” Wanda said as she set her bag on the counter before walking over and sitting in between the two.

“Hey Wand, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?” Bucky suddenly jumped into protective older brother mode.

“Sit.” Wanda ordered him, glaring at him. She appreciated the gesture, but she was pregnant and not handicapped.

“Yes Ma’am.” Bucky sat not wanting to make Wanda upset.

“Damn man, if she needs something she’ll tell us right?” Sam asked, turning to Wanda.

“Exactly thank you Sam.” They continued watching TV comfortably every once in a while bantering about something.

“Hey guys, where was y/n’s mission today? I usually hear from her by now if she’s going to be later than 6.” Wanda said realizing the time was now past 6 and she still hasn’t heard anything.

“I think they were in Florida today,” Bucky said, scratching his head trying to remember what Steve told them this morning. “Some mission with aliens that Carol warned them about. They’ll be fine. You’re welcome to stay here in your old room though.” He finished. Wanda thanked him before getting up to move to the kitchen, both men hot on her tail.

“Who is hungry?” Wanda asked as she started to get ingredients out for a caprese chicken dish and some pasta.

“Me, for sure. I missed your cooking so much Wanda.” Sam said, taking a seat at the counter pulling out his phone to que up some songs to listen to while you cooked. Dinner was good and shortly after Wanda went to bed in the now foreign space and begged for sleep to consume her. It was hard because she grew used to your arms wrapped around her with your face pressed into her hair. That night she didn’t get much sleep. She sent you a text letting you know she was sleeping at the compound before she rolled over and tried to shut her eyes.

The following morning Wanda woke up to a still empty bed. Now she started getting nervous, she searched for her phone to see no new messages. She took her time getting out of bed but quickly threw on the clothes she was wearing yesterday before heading to the kitchen.

As she was almost there she could hear Steve talking.

“So Wanda’s here?” Steve asked the person he was talking to.

“Yeah she came yesterday and we just told her to stay. So wait, you're telling me that these things just hit a button then poofed with Tony and y/n? Are they alive?” Wanda could now tell the other person was Bucky. She felt like she couldn’t breath, feeling the wind knocked out of her at the words she just heard. She couldn’t hide any longer and barged into the kitchen.

Her hands instantly went into a fighting position holding Steve in a tight grasp so he couldn’t escape.

“Where is she Steve? What happened? You promised me no life or death missions. You promised me she would always come back to me. She said she would never go away.” Wanda said while breaking towards the end and crumpling to the ground. Bucky went over and wrapped her in a hug.

After a few minutes Bucky put Wanda on the couch as now the rest of the team came in and Pepper with her two small children. Steve went over what happened on the mission and how they have no trace of either of their teammates. He made everyone aware that Thor, Carol, and the Guardians of the Galaxy were all in search of their friends.

Wanda felt so lost. Your twins were expected any day and you were gone. How was she going to do it if you weren’t back? How was she going to be strong for your two little ones if you weren’t there? The questions swarmed her head as she tuned out the rest of the team. After hours of talking the team now turned to their tuned out friend to offer some support.

“When was the last time you ate?” Clint asked Wanda, putting his hand on her shoulder to ground her.

“I don't know.” Wanda shook her head still thinking a million miles a minute not making eye contact with anyone.

“Wanda you need to eat. You have two other people to worry about. Y/N will be ok, she will come back.” Steve said, sitting next to her. She collapsed in tears and that was how the rest of the night went, crying and the team forcing Wanda to eat.

The following days Wanda barely left the bed. On the 4th day of you being missing Wanda felt a sharp pain in her stomach. Her eyes started to tear up from both pain and the realization of what was happening. She was going into labor without you. She screamed out in pain and heartbreak.

Steve rushed into the room as soon as he heard Wanda scream, “It’s ok Wanda we’re here, let's get you to the infirmary.” he held Wanda’s hand all the way down to the infirmary. Steve sent a text out to the rest of the team to let them know what was happening and soon familiar faces appeared in Wanda’s room.

They took shifts as they waited for the time to push. Natasha talked about the makeshift nursery they set up for Wanda, Bucky talked about how he got clothes for Wanda and the babies from Wanda’s home, Steve talked about schedules and shifts he made up to help Wanda, Sam bought stuffed animals, and Peter offered to take the babies to the playground. Wanda just sat and listened, grateful for her friends and the help they were giving her. All she could think about was how you should be there.

You should be freaking out everytime Wanda had a contraction, asking if she should get the doctor. She knew you would try to find her favorite shows on the TV and rub her back whispering soothing words. She needed that more than anything, she needed you. She needed you to be there for your twins first breath, for bringing them home, for the countless sleepless nights.

Soon the doctor entered the room, “Wanda it looks like you are ready to push,” nurses entered behind them with all of the equipment needed for the babies’ delivery. Wanda nodded trying to prepare herself for the experience that was moments away. “Would you like anyone in the room with you?” and Wanda did, she wanted you but you weren’t there. So she asked her best friend Nat to stay with her to which Nat agreed.

They got into position and Wanda endured the hardest fight of her life, childbirth. She could’ve sworn she broke Natasha’s hand from how hard she was squeezing. Soon a melodic sound broke through the pain as her first child was born. “It’s a boy!” she heard and she started to cry of joy. She had a son. The joy didn’t last as she felt another urge to push. “And we have another boy!”

Wanda was so relieved that both boys were here and healthy. You kept telling her that you could feel it was two boys, two football players, you would say. They brought the babies to wanda and laid them on her chest. Nat was quick to snap a quick photo before exiting the room to let the rest of the team know, giving Wanda a moment with her children.

Nat walked out of the room to see no one in the waiting room. She asked the nurse where everyone was who informed her that they were outside. She walked quickly outside hoping you were back. Instead she saw someone else. Tony on his hands and knees crying while the rest of the team was surrounding him.

“What? Where’s Y/N?” Bucky was the first to speak. Everyone was too scared to hear what happened, why Tony was back but not Y/n.

“I don’t know. One minute we were in a room being questioned the next thing I know y/n lunged at the guy questioning us. She was fighting with him for the poof thing. Then after she successfully got it we realized only one of us could go back while the other had to hit the button. She didn’t even give me a second. And now, now here I am and she is there. Where’s Wanda I have to tell her something?” Tony suddenly looked frantic.

“No, you’re going with Bruce to do everything you can to get Y/N back.” Clint said, poking Tony in the chest. “You are not doing anything else until she’s back. And you definitely are not seeing Wanda. That girl just had to give birth to twins without y/n, she’s destroyed.” Clint walked back into the infirmary while everyone was still in shock.

“I ‘m sorry. I ‘m going to bring her back.” Tony promised before walking towards the lab to get in contact with the people who were already searching for y/n.

Meanwhile Wanda was still in awe of the two boys in her arms, memorizing all of their features. She knew their names, you and her had picked out the names for all twin scenarios and for two boys it’d be Tommy and Billy. She started to hum a tune she remembered as a child. She started to get upset as she remembered the last time she hummed the song.

You had just walked in from a long day helping in the lab and training. You saw Wanda in the kitchen cooking dinner before turning to see you. She gave you the biggest smile as she came over to wrap her arms around you. Her pregnant stomach left some room between you two as she reached up to plant a kiss on your lips.

“How was your day my love?” she asked walking back to the stove to turn it off and putting the food on the table.

“I'm so tired. Tony was going on about this new feature he wants to make for the quinjet and then Nat beat my ass at training. I don't want to do anything.” Wanda sensing your mood guided you to the couch she sat then pulled you down so your head was on her lap. She played with your hair to calm you down.

“The babies were very active today kicking the heck out of me” she giggled to which you turned your face to her stomach. You placed your hands on her stomach.

“Hey you two, stop kicking mama. I know you want to play football but you're gonna have to wait till you come out of there.”

“How do you know they’ll want to play football?” She questioned you.

“I can just feel it in my bones.” You said as your eyes fluttered close. Dinner was long forgotten as Wanda continued to play with your hair humming the tune and you drifted off to sleep.

The following week after the twins’ birth was very hard for Wanda. She went through all the firsts by herself. Instead of going through the first night with you she went through it alone. Instead of bringing them home together with big smiles she took them to her room in the compound. Instead of introducing the twins to the team with you they were all by Wanda’s side before she could introduce them.

She spent the nights in bed. Someone on the team was always sleeping on a cot to help her during the nights. It had been 11 days since you went missing and you had already missed the biggest week of your little family’s life.

On the 11th day Wanda left the sleeping twins with a sleeping Uncle Bucky and roamed around the compound seeing you everywhere she went. In the kitchen where you both cooked dinner for the team all the time. On the couch where you spent countless nights watching tv shows and movies. In the training room where you pinned Wanda more times then she likes to admit. Then she headed towards the lab.

She stood shocked.

Right in front of her was a man that betrayed her. A man that you had put your life in the hands of who disappointed you. She stormed at him in a fit of rage. “You son of a bitch! Where is she? What did you do to her? I'm going to kill you!” Wanda screamed at him while hitting his chest. Tony let her, knowing that this was what she needed. Wanda continued to curse him out before Tony finally grabbed her hands.

“Stop. I get it. I'm the bad guy, and I deserve to be. I messed up the biggest moment of both of your lives. You can keep hitting me, knock me out, whatever you have to do. There is something I have to show you first though.” Tony let go of Wanda’s hands before walking to the screen to pull up a video for Wanda.

When it came through it was you. You were sitting in a bare room and Tony was asleep on the floor behind you. Your hair was a mess and you looked exhausted.

“Friday is it recording? Yes? Ok here we go. If anyone is watching this I probably did something stupid and I ‘m so sorry. If it’s Wanda hi babe. Man, I think it’s been 3 days and I miss you like crazy. I ‘m trying to figure out a way to get back to you and the babies I promise.” Wanda can feel the tears rolling down her face. “Well I think I have a plan. You aren’t going to like it but I promise you that it will all work out and I will come back to you. Babe I don't have much time they are coming back. I love you and our twins so much. I am going to do everything to come back to you.” Then the screen went black.

“Play it again, Tony.” Wanda asked Tony and he did. She watched it about 10 more times. Just hearing your voice made Wanda feel better.

“Thank you for showing me that. Can you send it to me?” Wanda asked, keeping her eyes locked on yours on the screen. Tony nodded and Wanda walked out of the room back to the twins.

After that day Wanda had hope. She knew you would come back to her. She watched that video every night on repeat to fall asleep too. She played it for the twins and other videos of you so they could hear your voice. The team noticed the change in Wanda as well. They were very skeptical but didn’t question her mood change.

After a month of you being missing Wanda had almost given up hope. Tommy was fussy and Billy had an explosion in his diaper and it was the first time the team had all gone on a mission so no one was with her. She was crying while changing Billy’s diaper while using her powers to rock Tommy’s baby seat.

“Ah boys, it’s ok mamas here. We’ll be ok sh sh sh.” She was so frustrated she couldn’t even get the diaper on Billy. There were a few more minutes of Tommy crying and Billy and now Wanda before she heard Tommy stop. She didn’t even turn around; she figured he just fell asleep.

When she turned with Billy in her arms she was shocked to see the person standing in front of her. It was the love of her life with her son. A sight Wanda never thought she would see. You looked skinnier, tons of bruises and cuts littered your skin. Your clothes were tattered and your hair was a mess in your face. Wanda thought you still looked just as beautiful. She had Billy in her arms as she slowly walked towards you not believing her eyes. She reached up and touched your face to make sure you were there. And you were.

With Tommy in one hand you reached up with your other to place on top of Wanda’s. “Hey there stranger.” You said with a chuckle. She wrapped her arm around you and started sobbing. You put Tommy in the bassinet still holding onto Wanda then reached for Billy placing him next to his brother. Then you did the thing you had been wanting to do forever.

You held onto Wanda as she sobbed in your arms. You stroked her hair while whispering “I’m here,” over and over in her ear.

Your arms were around Wanda but your eyes were on your twins. You soon began to cry, realizing how much time you missed. Wanda pulled away when she felt something drip on her shoulder.

“It’s ok my love you’re here now. You won’t miss anything else. You’re here.” Wanda promised with her hands on either side of your face to make you look at her. You leaned down and gave your love a long awaited kiss. Both of you being grateful to have the other there to comfort each other.

You soon pulled away from Wanda to look at your twins.

“I told you two football players.” You chuckled as you picked up the other baby who you have not held yet. “Who is who?”

“That’s Billy and this is Tommy.” She said while picking up the other baby. You both made your way to the bed with the twins and got comfortable next to each other. You stared at them trying to take in the two people who were now your own.

“I’m so sorry I missed all of it. I tried to get back as fast as I could. I really did. I thought when I sent Tony back it was going to be hours and I would be back. But I see metal man's mind isn’t what it used to be.” You rambled on. You wanted Wanda to know just how sorry you were.

“It’s ok. You’re here now and I’m not letting them take you anywhere. You’re staying with us for as long as I want.” Wanda assured you. You sat with your family for hours just basking in their presence and soaking it all in. You changed every diaper and did anything Wanda needed until she ordered you to go shower. While watching your 7th episode of grey's anatomy you dozed off with the babies between you and Wanda.

You only woke when you heard the rest of your rag tag group of friends enter the compound from their latest mission not even trying to be quiet. You turned to see Wanda still awake nursing Billy.

“Should we scare them?” You asked Wanda with a grin on your face. “You can if you want.” She didn’t feel one way or the other. Knowing how much the team helped her while you were missing.

You stood up and hid behind the closed door. It opened halfway.

“Hey Wanda how’d everything go?” Steve asked, you could feel multiple people enter the room however.

“Boo!” you jumped out to scare the team. Bucky not knowing it was you punched you in the stomach.

“Ah shit sorry y/n.” he said before recognition came to his eyes and the others. “Wait y/n?” he stared in disbelief. Nat was the first to tackle you in a hug before the others were soon to follow.

“How, how, how did you get back?” Tony asked with tears in his eyes.

“Well I thought you would figure it out quickly once I sent you back but that didn’t happen. I kept waiting and finally decided to just do it myself. I befriended another prisoner who promised to poof me back. And then when they did I was in the training room. I got Wanda’s text and just assumed she was still here and made my way up to her room.” They all said how happy they were that you were back. You ate dinner as a family and spent the night in your room with your beautiful wife and boys.

“Let’s go home tomorrow.” you suggested to your half asleep wife in your arms.

“You are my home.” she said and you felt warmth well up in your chest.

“I love you so much darling.” you nuzzled closer to her.

“I love you more.” and you both fell into a deep sleep which neither of you had had for a long time.

171 notes · View notes

songbirdstyles · 4 years ago

Text

hangin’ on the telephone

summary: you decide to tease harry on a zoom for his class. he’s less than thrilled.

warnings: smut (18+), masturbation, phone/facetime sex, voyeurism/exhibitionism, some fluff?

word count: 5k

song inspo.: hanging on the telephone - blondie; sometimes on a fantasy - billy joel; love on the telephone - foreigner

author’s note: this doesn’t quite fit with the events of when i’m sixty-four and lola - this is if reader was in harry’s class during quarantine. don’t think about it too hard

Harry’s camera is shaky when the class first begins - his screen seems to quiver in itself as he adjusts it, large hand nearly completely blocking him from view before he adjusts himself properly. His camera quality is higher than yours and anyone else’s in the class, for that matter - courtesy of the expensive computers the university had provided to all of its teachers so they wouldn’t complain about how many Zooms they had to have.

That’s what his theory is, anyway. The university says they think its of utmost importance that all of our staff are treated to the highest levels of technology available - but the Macbooks they gave out were from 2015. Certainly not the highest levels.

In every other one of your classes, teachers hold their class as the only colorful block amongst a sea of turned off cameras, white letters reflecting the name of the student to make up for the lack of facial recognition. In Harry’s class, though, there are at least two pages of turned on cameras, and you don’t pretend to not know why. Surely everyone in this class - girls and guys alike - holds some similar fantasy that your professor will somehow fall in love with them through their grainy video on Zoom -

Well, unbeknownst to them, you’re the only one that gets to live that fantasy. In fact, it’s hardly a minute after the Zoom has begun that Harry murmurs jus’ wait a minute f’everyone t’get here - and the apex of your thighs is already heating up.

It’s been so long. Nearly three months since you’d last seen him in person - since you’d last felt his palms pressed to your cheeks, his hips tight against yours, his lips trailing a path up and down the soft column of your throat. And your relationship had never been entirely about sex but it’s a large part of it, feeling each other, and even if you’ve been calling each other for hours nearly every single night, it isn’t enough. You miss him so much it twists at your heart, most days, though it does, admittedly, feel nice to see him in class Zooms.

He’s donning a pink button up, the top button mercifully undone, curls messy and unstyled, and every so often he brings his hand up to run his fingers through it. You’re sure if you could see his full body you’d be able to see the blue checkered pajama pants he wears during all of your lazy days together - he’d never liked wearing dress pants when he didn’t have to. He’s in his bedroom, sitting at his desk, and you can recognize the curtains behind him from the many days (and nights) you’d spent in that exact room together before the entire world had went to shit, and now you miss those stupid curtains so much you can practically taste the desire on your tongue.

You shift in your seat, desire burning in between your legs. You’re not sure if the quirk in Harry’s eyebrow is due to recognition of the simple movement - he’d teased you enough times to recognize every single one of your mannerisms, even ones you didn’t know existed - or if he’s simply acknowledging that all of his students have finally entered the Zoom, but the movement still brings a small smile to your lips.

“Alrigh’, then - looks like we’re all here, now. May as well get started, hmm?” Harry begins, voice booming over everyone’s muted cameras, and the girls on your screen look like they’re practically swooning at the raspiness in his voice. You would judge them if you were a different type of person, but, God, his voice would bring an angel to her knees. You’re sure you look just as needy for him as they do. “Gave y’some questions from last class, right?” The class collectively nods. “Pull those out, then. We can go over them an’ have some discussions an’ analysis, all tha’ - easy class f’today.”

You minimize your Zoom screen and tap into your Google Docs, searching through your most recent documents until you find the questions he’d pushed out to all of you last class - you click on it and watch as your answers fill your screen before looking back to the Zoom, nibbling on your lower lip as you glance at Harry’s screen again.

He’s so composed in the most casual way possible - you can’t possibly know how he manages it. He looks almost like another student, leaning forward to rest his chin against his palm as he waits for everyone to get to their questions, and your breath hitches in your throat as you stare at him, suddenly feeling entirely too hot in your hoodie (his hoodie, actually) as your skin heats.

Simple fix. You grab the bottom of your hoodie and tug it off in one smooth motion, littering it on the side of your desk with a nonchalance that came naturally to you - the cool air of your parent’s basement does little to relieve the heat you feel, the burn seeming to come from the inside out, but you still relish in the coolness that washes over you like a wave. You’re simply wearing a tank top, the straps spaghetti thin and light blue, and you lean back in your seat with a soft sigh.

Harry coughs. It draws numerous eyes back to the screen at the sudden noise, and you furrow your eyebrows as you glance over towards him -

Realistically, there’s no way to know if he’s looking at you. You know that. And yet, somehow you know that he’s staring at you, his eyes darkening in a way that would be unnoticeable to anybody else but you know him. You know how he gets when he’s horny - like when you bent over in front of him to pick up your pencil, knowing it would make his pants feel just a bit tighter, and when you turned back to look at him you could fucking see the green hue of his eyes deepening in shade.

You hadn’t even meant to make him horny by taking off your hoodie, and that’s the truth. Maybe you’re both a bit touch starved from your months apart - but, no matter. You like watching him get like this, examining the way he shifts in his seat like you had moments before, and a smirk tinges your lips as you discreetly reach for the bottom of your tank top, tugging it down just a little bit further down your chest until your cleavage and the top of your bra peeks through. Then you lean forward, narrowing your eyes as though you’re searching through your computer for the questions, and you swear you can hear Harry’s breath catch.

He clears his throat, then. It’s a casual noise and it brings everyone’s attention back to him. “Let’s start wit’ number one - anyone want t’share their answer? Jus’ need a starting point f’our discussion - Sophie, good girl, go ahead.”

Sophie unmutes herself and begins reading her answer for the first question on your sheet, her voice just a bit higher than it usually is and you don’t pretend not to know why - but you’re not focused on it. Harry is smirking, lips tilted slightly upward as he nods along to Sophie’s answer even if you can tell he isn’t listening, and your heartbeat thumps harder against your chest.

Good girl? That bastard - and you can tell Sophie’s eating it up, too, skin flushed in a deep pink, and you narrow your eyes at Harry, already reaching for your phone to text him and tell him off - he knows how much you’d hate to hear anyone else being called good girl because that’s for you, dammit - but before you can, a small box pops up in the corner of your screen.

You lean in, squinting to read the small, granulated chat box -

Professor Styles: What’s got you looking so sour all of a sudden?

You roll your eyes. Cheeky asshole. He knows exactly what’s got you all sour, as Sophie’s voice drones on and on, further explaining her answer that hasn’t made too much sense to you, truly, and your fingers fly across your keyboard to furiously type your response.

You: you’re such a dick

His lips turn up into a larger smile, but before you can reach in to type a different response, Sophie has finished her answer and he nods. “Good answer, Sophie - what d’you guys think? Jacob, tha’s good.”

And Jacob begins to speak - his so called addition is just a poorly worded restatement of exactly what Sophie had said - and then you get another notification from your private chat with your professor. You click on the box and your stomach flips -

Professor Styles: Serves you right, practically flashing your tits to everyone in the class.

Professor Styles: If you were here, I’d put you over my knee.

You could moan at that. Holy shit, you really could. You cough into your first as someone else unmutes themselves to add onto Jacob, and you take just a moment to think of your response before you gnaw on your lower lip, fingers loud as you formulate your reply.

You: you would never. way too vanilla for that

It’s a damn lie and you know it. He’s fucking obsessed with spanking you, even if he’d never truly put you over his knee like a punishment but you know he wouldn’t hesitate if you showed the slightest bit of interest in the act - and you most certainly are interested.

But you like pissing him off. Like watching the way a vein jumps in his neck as he nods along to what somebody with their camera off is jabbering about and when they’re finished, his voice sounds just a bit deeper when he says, “Good, good. How ‘bout number two - Elizabeth?”

You tug your tank top down a bit further, smiling sweetly into the camera and to anyone else it may just look like you’re wholeheartedly agreeing with whatever your classmate is saying but you watch Harry’s eyes scan his screen before they surely land on you, and they widen slightly.

Another message pops up in record time - and you’d expected it - but it doesn’t make you any less desperate to lean in and read it.

Professor Styles: Or maybe I’d force you to kneel on the ground with my cock in your mouth for hours.

You: i think you know i’d love that

Professor Styles: Can’t move, can’t touch yourself, can’t do anything.

You swallow thickly, feeling your face heat up desperately. Your cunt is fucking dripping, now, surely desperate for your touch and every time you shift in your seat your clit rubs against the lace of your panties, sending jolts of pleasure rolling through your body as shaky fingers type a response.

You: you wouldn’t be able to last

Professor Styles: I’d last all day just to make you stay there.

Well - you have no shame in resting your hand on your lower stomach, just out of view of your camera. Eyes on Harry’s little box on your screen your fingertips slight down into your sweatpants, digits running over the moist fabric of your thong before pressing to your clit, and a wave of pleasure rolls through your body at the initial touch until you’re practically preening into your grasp, still caressing your cunt over your panties.

The class moves on to the next question - you’ve stopped paying attention ages ago, since the words good girl first slipped out of Harry’s mouth and he messaged you for the first time. You hook a finger into the crotch part of your panties, tugging them to the side and you can feel your wetness, strings connecting your dripping folds to the lace, and your breath picks up as you slip your hand into your panties.

The message comes fast. You’d been expecting it, pressing it open with the hand not shoved into your pants.

Professor Styles: You’re fucking touching yourself, aren’t you

It’s not a question. He can read you like a book - knows every one of your reactions because he was the only one who could pull them from you - and the way you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth, glancing into the camera with an air of faux-innocence, is something he’s come to recognize.

You type your response slowly. Take your time, don’t rush, because you love to make him wait as your fingers slowly move in circles against your clit - too gentle to truly make you feel anything, touch feather soft as you spread moisture around the sensitive nub.

You: of course i am, professor. if you’re not here to do it for me…

You lean back in your office chair - to anyone else you look nonchalant and casual, if a bit bored of the proceedings in class - and your hand slides further into your panties, fingers smoothing up and down your folds until your breathing picks up, chest rising and falling as you finally push your pointer finger into yourself, immediately curling it upwards to brush against the sweet spot inside of your velvety walls that has you pushing your hips against your hands. You’re quivering for your own touch - for Harry’s, more so - as you push your own essence in and out of your cunt, heel of your palm brushing against your clit, before you glance back up at the screen.

And Harry is - God, he’s a sight, is what he is. He’s leaning back in his seat, like you, and you watch for a moment at the way his chest rises and falls against the fabric of his billowy dress shirt. The top button is still undone and as you watch, he reaches up and undoes the second one -

It’s like a collective moan rolls through the fucking class at the action. You can see every girl’s eyes widen on your screen as the overhead lights in Harry’s apartment illuminates the thin shine of sweat on his chest, and if you didn’t know better you’d simply assume that the AC in his apartment must be broken because he merely looks hot as he nods along to the current speaker - but you do know better.

If the camera was angled just a millimeter down, you’re sure you’d see the bulge through his pajama pants, thick and hard and desperate for your attention. For your mouth or your hands or your cunt, squeezing him so good, milking him for everything he’s worth until you’re both sobbing -

You add another finger into your pussy, sliding them in and out with a slow pace that gradually picks up until your ears are filled with the sound of your wetness, sloshing in your panties as you suck your teeth, trying to prevent your mouth from opening in a moan. You may look inconspicuous now but if your lips part in a desperate cry you know people will get suspicious -

Caught in your own pleasure, you’d missed Harry’s messages until the third one pops on your screen, and you scramble to click on the notification before it disappears.

Professor Styles: You’re a brat

Professor Styles: Trying to work me up like this

Professor Styles: Don’t you dare stop touching yourself.

The third one has your eyebrows furrowing - God, of course you’d never stop. You don’t think you could even physically drag your hands away from the pearl between your thighs until you’ve finally come over the edge and you didn’t need Harry to say it. You raise your eyebrows and begin typing your response with your free hand, fingers pumping in and out of your cunt desperately, but you’ve barely finished the text when you hear your name in his fucking voice and -

“What d’you think?” Harry inquires, voice even lower than it had been before, and you resist the urge to drop your mouth open in an appalled gasp as he practically stares into your fucking soul even through Zoom. Your heart drops into your ass and now you know why he’d wanted to confirm that you wouldn’t stop - “Why d’you think Steinbeck structured the book like he did?”

What? You don’t fucking know - you click to unmute yourself, fingers slowing down as you take a breath, tapping until you get to the answer written on your Google Doc. “Um - they’re plot chapters followed by intercalary chapters - they invoke an emotional response from readers.”

It’s a textbook answer, short and shitty and anyone with half a brain could tell that you simply said it so you would get the participation points, and you watch Harry’s eyebrows raised with a poorly-concealed smile.

“How d’they invoke an emotional response, though?”

And he’s such a tease - he loves this, watching you teeter near the edge of your orgasm with shaky breaths as you seemingly contemplate your answer for a moment - fingers circle your clit slowly as you say, “They - they show us the historical and societal background - which - which broadens the scope of the novel.”

You, truthfully, think you did a fairly decent job keeping your composure - sure, your voice was a bit airy, a bit breathy, and you’re sure you tripped a bit over your words, but you at least didn’t moan out wildly in front of your entire class - celebrate the little things. And, yeah, it may not have been the best answer, but Jacob is already unmuting himself to elaborate and restate your entire answer, which feels like a win in your book, at least.

Professor Styles: Good girl. Kept your cool.

You’re practically trembling, resuming your thrusting of your fingers deep within your cunt, as you shakily type your response, fingers quivering on the keyboard.

You: wish you were here

And - when you realize that sounds a bit too sentimental to fit the situation at hand, fingering yourself in front of the entire class - you hurry to type something else.

You: to eat me out

You bring your eyes up to the screen again, fast enough to watch the quick smile spread across his face - his eyes dart around the screen for a moment before landing on a spot that you assume to be your box, and you exhale softly, curling your finger upward to that spot that has your back arching forward, tits pushing closer to the camera before you drop back against your seat.

Professor Styles: I’d do anything to have my face in your cunt right now.

You inhale sharply, nearly coughing as you pick up your speed, lips parting the slightest bit in a soft whine that erupts from your throat before you can try to fight it back - your eyes shut, head falling back against your chair, and you’re so close you can feel your impending release on the tip of your tongue like your favorite meal.

It’s the sound of the chat notification on Zoom that makes your eyes open, and you click on it. It’s hard to read, vision going fuzzy as your orgasm comes closer and closer, but you can make it out -

Professor Styles: Eyes open.

Professor Styles: And keep your camera on when you cum.

You practically whimper at the request but you oblige - eyes opened and staring directly at his box, at the way his face is practically bright red, sitting up straighter in his seat. He’s moved his camera angle up more, concealing his abdomen until only his chest and head is visible, showcasing the two undone buttons at the top of his pink shirt.

He sure doesn’t look composed now. Not a total disaster - but not the cool, calm professor who had first opened Zoom nearly 45 minutes ago.

Your eyes are moving towards the camera when you notice something in his box that has your eyebrows raising, eyes wide and alert as you squint, fingers briefly paused in their mission to get you to orgasm -

Your free hand flies across the keyboard as you type the message, mind spinning with the image you’d seen - the way his fabric creased near his shoulder, like his arm had been moving up and down with an unbridled, jerky pace -

You: are you jerking off, professor?

And you can see the exact moment he reads the message, his eyes widening, before he unmutes himself and loudly proclaims, “Question 4, then? W - Who wants t’start us off? Jamie, good, tell us wha’ you’ve got.”

And Jamie goes off in some tangent about their answer, words sounding like mud in your brain, as Harry mutes himself once more, and it’s only another moment until you get the next message.

Professor Styles: How could you expect me not to?

Good answer. You know that if you’d caught him jerking off before you had the chance to stick your hands down your panties, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself - but it’s still surprising, watching the fabric of his shirt rustle. It’s not obvious in a way anyone else could tell but you can, and that’s all that matters.

You pull your fingers out of your cunt, bringing your sodden fingers up to your clit. You’resoclosesoclosesoclose - your trembling fingers rub hard circles into your clit, pussy fluttering around the emptiness after you’ve pulled your fingers out, and you clench your muscles taut as you pinch the sensitive nub -

Fuck. There it is - a burning sensation throughout your body as flames lick up your body, rocking through every inch of your skin - it’s all you can do to sit there, legs spread, practically biting back the urge to sob out with the force of it all, and keeping a poker face feels like some sort of torture form. Your cunt jolts beneath your fingers as you try and ride yourself through it, sticky wetness coating your fingers with proof of your release until it’s all over your sweatpants, soaking the gray fabric darker.

Harry’s the only person who’s ever made you squirt - twice, it happened, once into his mouth and the other around his cock as he overstimulated you until you were practically sobbing. And he’d loved it, too, pulling out even though he hadn’t cum yet and sinking to his knees to lap the moisture from between your thighs, eyes rolling back into his head as though it brought him such pleasure to sit there and eat you while you grabbed at his hair.

You’ve never done it yourself. Not with just your fingers.

The next message comes before the aftershocks have finished rolling through your body, and you need to take a few seconds to compose yourself before reaching to read it.

Professor Styles: I love watching you cum.

You resist the urge to smile, resting your palm against your swollen cunt as you use the other hand to type your response.

You: squirted all over my hand.. wish you could’ve seen it

You can practically hear the way he chokes when he reads it, even through his muted mic, and your response comes in seconds.

Professor Styles: I’m wrapping up the class early. Stay after.

It’s a demand and one that you’re more than willing to oblige, giving one unceremonious jerk of your head upwards as you lean back into your seat. And, true to his word, he unmutes himself, declaring loudly that since he wanted an easy day you could all leave early - not too early, mind you, a mere seven minutes before the class would officially be over - but he could let the class out twenty seconds early and they’d act like he canceled an exam.

People unmute themselves to say goodbye before boxes quickly begin disappearing, the number of participants dropping down until it’s just the two of you, squares side by side next to each other, and you reach to unmute yourself the second the last person has left.

“Harry - Harry, fuck,” you breathe, pushing your computer back and angling it down more so he can see your body. He unmutes himself and you can hear his gasped breathing as he pushes his own laptop back until you can see him fully and - “Fuck.”

His pajama pants are pushed past his cock, curling towards his stomach and an angry shade of red. His fist wraps tight around it, pumping himself up and down with his chest rising and falling desperately, and the thought of him doing this during your Zoom call has another pang of pleasure rolling through your body from your clit.

“Unbutton your shirt,” you beg him, propping your foot on your desk as you shimmy your sweatpants down your thighs, kicking them off into a pile on the floor. Your cunt is exposed to him, covered only by a sopping scrap of lace that you call underwear, and you’re quick to pull it away from your pussy to show him as you dip your fingers back down to your clit, circling it freely. You’re still entirely too sensitive, and the simple motion has your chest arching vehemently, but you can’t watch him do this without feeling the overwhelming urge to cum again and again -

He obliges, practically tearing the shirt away from his chest until the two halves have split open and you get an eyeful of his chest, littered in tattoos that only you get the pleasure of seeing - the butterfly you love to press your palms against when you ride his face - the ship you always grasp when you’re rolling against his thigh -

“Finger y’self,” Harry grunts, breathing desperate and heavy as you lean back in your seat, exposing yourself further to him, your chest heaving. “An’ take off tha’ tank top.”

You grab the end of the shirt, tugging it up and over your head and littering it on the side of your office chair, pulling the straps of your bra down your arms so you can peel the cups away from your tits, displaying your peaked nipples to him, and he moans at the sight, the noise low and guttural. You slide two fingers into your cunt easily, the dripping essence of your release still lubricating your digits to push in and out of yourself.

It isn’t going to take long for either of you - you can tell. He plants his free palm on the edge of his desk, leaning forward and baring his chest to you, and you push yourself to sit up more, resting your free hand on your tits. Fingers pinch at your nipple, the peaked bud sending rays of euphoria through your body, and you drop your head back with a desperate whine.

“Y’close?” Harry asks through gritted teeth, words interrupted with needy breaths and gasps as you nod, and you can tell that anything he’d said about punishing you is gone - he won’t stop you now, not when you’re so close, not when all either of you want is to touch each other. You want to reach through the camera, to press your lips to his, feel his palms smooth up and down your back before traveling downwards until he can slide his fingers into your cunt - one of his is bigger than both of yours, and he’d fill you up so good you wouldn’t be able to do anything else but cry out.

And you - you’d rest your knees on either side of his thighs, lowering yourself into his lap as his length slides against your stomach. Scraping your nails through his hair always makes him cry out and your fingers tense around your breasts as you imagine it, thinking of the way he’d moan and beg for you to pull it harder, lowering his lips to your nipple as you obey him.

You’ll always obey him. (In bed, at least.) God, you really would sit on your knees for hours, holding his cock in your mouth like it’s your fucking job, and you’d love it, too.

“Look at me, baby,” Harry moans, voice crackling through the speaker of your shitty computer and you oblige, hazy eyes rolling upwards to the camera, and you swallow thickly, pumping your fingers faster in and out of your cunt. “Look at me when y’cum … c’mon, baby.”

You don’t need much more encouragement than that. With one curl of your fingers upwards to hit the sweet spot deep within your velvet core you cum, eyes rolling back into your head with a piercing cry that makes you entirely too grateful that it’s your parents’ date night - your cunt clenches and unclenches around your fingers as you finally hit your peak, breath coming out in needy groans as you release over your fingers.

You’ve barely finished when Harry’s tell-tale groan sounds through the basement and you snap your eyes back to his figure, glancing at him just in time to see him cum, white ribbons spurting out of his cock and coating his hand and the sleeve of his pink dress shirt. He drops his head forward with a grunt, fist still jerking up and down his dick as though he’s trying to milk every last drop all over his abdomen, and your breathing turns more jagged as you watch like he’s a fucking piece of art and you’re nothing but a spectactor.

And then - for a moment - there’s silence. Not silence, in its literal definition, as desperate, heaving breaths pierce the air even screens apart, and you’re not sure which of you will be the first to speak. You can hardly breathe right, let alone say any coherent sentence, and Harry takes the lead.

“Did good, baby,” he breathes, voice so soft you can barely hear it, and you nod, wiping your moist hand on your outer thigh. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you tell him, pushing yourself to sit up more. “And your dick.”

He exhales a shaky laugh, raising his hand to examine the cum that coats his palm and fingers as though he’s never seen anything like it. “Yeah - I miss y’pussy. Not used t’not cumming in you.”

“Yeah,” you begin. “Feel empty without -”

You’re cut off before you can finish as Harry raises his fingers to his mouth, pink tongue darting out to lick at the bits of cum that decorate his skin. Your lips part needily as you watch him, eyes wide as saucers until he’s fully lapped up every ribbon of cum, and he smacks his lips as though he’d enjoyed a great meal.

“Don’t get how y’swallow so often,” Harry says, and even through his faux-casual demeanor you can see the corners of his lips turning up at your state. “Really doesn’t taste good -”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“M’horny again.”

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #prof!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles drabble #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic

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hanniejji · 3 years ago

Text

the last yakisoba

[ chifuyu matsuno x gn!s/o ]

summary: a trip to the convenience store isn't supposed to be a cliche first meet up, not when you're both sleep deprived and hungry and there's only one peyoung yakisoba left

note: i've come to realize what fuyu's eye color is. i keep calling it blue-green when it's simply called cyan… im dumb | m.list

words: 774 | warnings: none

freedom. something you're finally granted with after countless sleepless nights.

weeks of studying for the finals drained the life out of you and taking the damn exam itself made you feel like a zombie, just wandering around dead with no sense of direction.

but that's all in the past!

you yeeted your exam papers done, zoomed out of the classroom and went home, changed into some comfy clothes, and plopped yourself into your bed. by the time you passed out from exhaustion, it was five o'clock in the afternoon. you spent the rest of the evening asleep until you woke up from the sound of dogs barking outside at two in the morning.

to say you were hungry was an understatement.

you were starving and the only cure to your zombie-like state is to stuff yourself with food and snacks.

that's how you found yourself roaming the convenience store a few blocks away from your house—wearing only a random hoodie, pajama, and your soft cotton slippers—grabbing whatever snack you pass by on your way to the drinks. after filling your basket with your desired snacks, you abruptly stop in front of the instant food aisle, staring at the last package of peyoung yakisoba.

"i guess you're my late dinner tonight," you said to yourself, throwing it in the basket filled with snacks.

turning on your heels to the counter, a low boyish voice called out to you, stopping you from your track.

"uhm, excuse me?"

you turn to see a boy, doesn't seem to look older than you—you're pretty sure you've seen him in school before but your brain cells are not functioning properly at two in the morning. he has very pretty cyan eyes, they're kinda droopy from sleepiness and have dark circles under them—who doesn't anyway? his blonde hair is messy, the front hair lazily tied in an attempt to keep in from covering his eyes, and he looks like he's been through some rough shit—again, who doesn't?

honestly speaking, he still looks good even in that state, you thought.

"yes?"

"was that… the last one of them?" he shyly points the package of peyoung yakisoba on top of the numerous snacks in your basket.

"oh," you sadly smiled at his defeated look, "yeah, it's the last one."

"oh man," he whines, throwing his head back to wallow in self pity. you chuckle at the pout on his face, he kinda looks like a kicked puppy now.

"would you like to have it?"

"huh?" his eyes widened in surprise at the offer, now fully awake before shaking his head, "no no it's ok! you got to it first. there's another store a few streets away from here anyway, i can just go buy there," he says, but you can see how he takes a few quick glances at the package.

"well, i have a variety of snacks with me right now, surely one less snack won't hurt me," you hand him the package, "besides, you look like you really need a 'pick me up' food," you point out, poking his chest with the yakisoba.

"oh… but," his head turned down to look at the package, "i heard you said you haven't had dinner yet…"

what?

you weren't fast enough to stop the laugh from escaping your mouth, watching him glare at you with another pout on his face. his cheeks are tinted with a slight pink, showcasing his embarrassment.

"let's share it then."

"what?"

i think the lack of sleep is getting to me.

you didn't know what came to your mind when you said that. sharing food with a stranger isn't your type of thing, but if the stranger looks this handsome, what could go wrong? besides, he doesn't look like he'll try and do something bad to you, right? if he did, then that's a consequence you'll worry about later. don't do this please djskd stay cautious around strangers!

"a-are you sure?" he rubs the nape of his neck, his eyes glancing back and forth at you and the tiled floor.

"i could really use some company," you bashly said as an excuse, "we can just tell the lady at the counter to get it ready, then we can eat at the tables in front of the store. whaddya say?"

he seemed to go silent for a few seconds, before a small smile appeared on his face, eyes a bit more alive than earlier.

"sure."

"also, if i'm going to share my snacks with you, can i know your name?"

"oh! i'm sorry, my name's chifuyu!"

"hm, i'm y/n. have i seen you before? you kinda look familiar."

#chifuyu matsuno #tokyo revengers #tokyo revenger #tokyorev #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers chifuyu #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev chifuyu #tokyorev imagines #chifuyu matsuno x reader #chifuyu x y/n #chifuyu imagines #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu headcanons #honey writes

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smutbymia · 4 years ago

Note

Would you write try to write a Johnny x reader x Mark where she's Johnny's girlfriend and he has nipple sucking kink? Something like she's asleep and starts to wake up when she felt someone suckling on her nipple and she's thought it was Johnny, so she let he keep suckling and rans her fingers into his hair for some time but when she opened her eyes, she saw Mark sucking on her nipples while Johnny is watching them?

For mark, there were a lot of positives and negatives when it came to being Johnny’s roommate. The best part about being Johnny’s roommate was the fact that his parents had gifted him the apartment and so rent was mere pennies in comparison to other places in the area. The worst part was that because the apartment was technically still Johnny’s, the dude had almost no boundaries.

Mark was used to it for the most part. He had walked in on many steamy make out sessions his roommate was in the middle of. He’d seen it all — almost. Kissing, groping, even some undressing. He’d usually just tip toe to his room and try to act like he never witnessed a thing but this time was a bit different. You and Johnny had been dating for a few months now and things seemed to be different with you.

You had all gone to school together and so Johnny seemed to be a bit more cautious about fooling around in Marks presence. And since you were a year older than Mark, he had always had a certain level of respect for you as his senior who had tutored him here and there throughout the years. Overall he approved. You were smart, kind, and so pretty that he would even get flustered around you sometimes. Johnny would often tease him about it after you left the apartment.

He was a bit shocked when you and Johnny had started dating but seeing you together made him realize that it was a combination that simply made sense. You and Johnny had always been friends and when romance started to blossom the both of you bravely fell into a relationship that was going well so far.

Mark was halfway out of the door one afternoon when he got a text from Jaemin telling him that class was cancelled and inviting him to come hang out at his dorm. Of course Mark would have loved to accept but truthfuly he was way behind with his schoolwork and so he declined politely and instead marched right back into his room, hoping to make good use of the rest of his afternoon and night by being productive.

A few hours later he heard you and Johnny arrive in the apartment. He had been meaning to come out and say hello since he first heard the familiar sound of keys shaking in the lock of their front door, but he was so caught up in his work after finally making a breakthrough with his studying. He shoved his headphones over his head and continued scribbling math formulas across the pages of his notebook, falling into a trance-like state.

When Mark finally snapped out of it about an hour had passed. He slipped his headphones off his head and was met with silence. He shrugged to himself figuring you had both left and headed out of his room. He could hear the faint sound of a movie playing on the living room television as he approached the kitchen. When he arrived, he was shocked at the scene playing out in front of him. A bowl of popcorn rested on the counter next to you. You were seated on top of the counter with Johnny standing between your legs.

Johnny had been his typical handsy self all evening but when you both went to get popcorn from the kitchen he had playfully lifted you up onto the counter and had pushed your shirt up to your chest to capture your nipples between his fingers before pulling one into his mouth and suckling. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive buds as he alternated between each one before settling on one after awhile and humming against your skin. Your head fell backwards against the cupboards and your eyes fell shut momentarily, enjoying the way his mouth felt all over your body.

Mark couldn’t believe his eyes. Sure, he knew Johnny had a thing for boobs and had seen him grope numerous different sets of them over the years on their living room couch but he had never seen his friend so consumed by a particular task the way he seemed to be consumed by the act of suckling your nipples. And your tits. Wow they were beautiful. The way you softly groaned whenever Johnny would stick his tongue out and —-

Shit! Shit, shit, shit. Your eyes fluttered open and met Marks. He seemed to be so caught up in the moment that it took him a moment to realize he looked just a tad creepy standing there and watching until he saw the expression on your face go from totally blissed out to totally panicked. Johnny was oblivious and reached up to massage at your free breast as he continued sucking, increasing the intensity of his mouth and pulling a loud moan from your lips. You swatted at his shoulder, and he released your nipple with a pop from his mouth as you frantically pulled down your shirt.

“N-noona, I — uh,” Mark stuttered. He backed out of the kitchen looking embarrassed and turning slightly red. Johnny turned to Mark at the sound of his voice.

“Oh,” he said nonchalantly when he realized why you had made him stop.

“S-sorry, I wasn’t — I mean I didn’t mean to.. I’m g-gonna go back to.. my..,” Mark said as he clumsily grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and all but ran back down the hall to his room before shutting the door behind him and resting his back against it.

“Fuck,” he sighed to himself. He was beating himself up for being so ridiculous. He shut his eyes, feeling exasperated. But of course the first thing that popped into his mind was the image of you with your legs spread and chest rising and falling as johnny massaged your breasts.

Mark groaned again before opening his eyes and shaking his head. He walked further into his room and froze when he caught his reflection in his floor length mirror. Luckily it wasn’t obvious, but he was certainly very aware of the bulge rising in his jeans.

“Aw, dang...” he complained as he reached down to palm himself through them. He rushed back to his door, opening it just a crack and listening intently. He could hear you and Johnny casually mumbling about the movie. He closed the door softly and flicked his lights off before crawling into his bed, feeling very ashamed of what he was about to do next.

You were seated in the living room trying to focus on the film but felt uneasy. You snuggled up to Johnny’s side before you tilting your head up to look at him. Johnny was watching the movie like it was the best thing he had ever seen. You watched as his eyes crinkled at the sides when something on screen made him laugh.

You nudged him. “Are you sure we shouldn’t check on him, I mean I feel really bad!” you said. Johnny was slightly caught off guard by the sudden statement.

“No it’s fine, trust me,” he said before diverting his attention back to the screen. A few minutes passed before you spoke again.

“But he looked so flustered. He was turning red almost. I think he must have been really uncomfortable!” you said with a look of concern on your face.

“Yeah I’m sure he was uncomfortable alright. He’s probably beating his dick as we speak,” Johnny joked as he put some popcorn into his mouth.

“Stop, Mark is a sweet kid—“ you began.

“Kid? You guys are barely even a year apart,” Johnny laughed before turning his head to you and pulling you in for a kiss.

“Still,” you began as you snuggled back into Johnny’s side, “I can’t stop thinking about it.” Something in Johnny’s brain clicked.

“Festinger’s theory of cognitive dissonance,” he exclaimed. You furrowed your brow in response. Johnny did this sometimes. He was a psychology major after all.

“Huh?” you mumbled.

“It’s a theory that explores the inner conflict people experience when their thoughts, beliefs, and actions aren’t in alignment with each other ,” Johnny muttered as he slid his hand under your shirt and along your skin. He squeezed softly at your chest before dragging his fingers back and forth across your nipples.

You moaned softly. “I’m not following,” you confessed, still unsure what the theory had to do with you wanting to apologize to Mark.

Johnny giggled as he tugged at your nipples and watched your back arch away from both him and the couch.

“You view Mark as some sort of kid in comparison to you,” he began. “Maybe it’s because he’s inexperienced, or quiet, or a bit awkward around you cause he thinks you’re pretty,” he continued as he played with your body like a toy. You moaned softly under his touch. The movie was long forgotten to you but Johnny still had his eyes fixed on the screen.

“You guys are closer in age than we are but you both act like you aren’t. And so, you’re experiencing inner conflict,” he finished.

“W-why would that make me feel conflicted?” you said through breathy moans.

“Before I can answer that question, you have to answer mine first,” he said, sprinkling kisses along your neck. You let out a soft groan in response, urging him to ask whatever it was that he wanted to. You weren’t ready for the next words that left his mouth.

“Did my baby enjoy it? Making another baby flustered?” he said in a low whisper.

You gasped as you felt electricity shoot through your body. Johnny laughed. He didn’t need an answer. He knew very well that something inside of you must have been unlocked.

If he wasn’t so confident and comfortable in your relationship he may have been a little jealous but hey, he was a psychology student after all. Human behaviour was very interesting to observe and he had a theory of his own he wanted to test.

Mark was fresh out of the shower and laying in bed when there was a knock at his door. You had already left the apartment but he still felt a bit weird about facing Johnny so Mark had stayed in his room.

“I ordered pizza!” Johnny yelled from behind the door. He didn’t wait for mark to respond before he walked off to go dig in.

Mark hesitated as he got up from his bed. He was starving, though. Which is what led him to that kitchen in the first place. The images flashed across Marks mind again. It would have been enough to turn him on all over again but he already came twice since he walked in on the both of you a few hours ago.

The first time was when he rushed back to his room. He sat up on his bed and shoved the corner of his pillow in his mouth to muffle his own moans as he jerked at his length over and over again with the image of your tits and blissed out expression in his mind. He sat there quietly, spilling all over himself and his bed sheets as his hips bucked uncontrollably in his dark room.

The second time was in the shower where he routinely jerked off. He finally felt empty enough after and much more clear headed.

He was feeling guilty as hell but that didn’t stop him from marching towards the smell of pizza. He figured It would be okay since you weren’t around. And it was at first.

“Y/n was totally freaked,” Johnny exclaimed, chuckling to himself. The two boys were watching some sort of basketball game on TV. Mark almost choked after hearing Johnny’s words.

“Shit, I wanted to apologize but I just—“ he started.

“She liked it,” Johnny interrupted. He glanced over at Mark, mischief in his eyes as he munched on a slice. Mark froze.

“Wait what?” he asked, baffled. Johnny broke out into laughter.

“H-hyung, stop teasing me. I already feel guilty,” Mark said. Johnny was still laughing when he dropped the remainder of his slice of pizza back into the box.

He dusted off his hands and rested one on Marks shoulder.

“Hyungs not teasing you,” he said, softly mocking Mark and speaking in the third person.

“She totally freaked because she liked it. Looks like the crush you have on my girlfriend isn’t one sided after all,” he said. Marks eyes went wide.

“D-dude? I’m really sorry I swear I didn’t mean to. I don’t want to come between you guys or anything I just-“ Mark started rambling apologetically.

“No offence but I don’t think you could steal her from me, even if you tried” Johnny joked before continuing, “but if you’re really sorry you’ll help me with something”.

“Something that I think you’ll have a lot of fun doing. Just be ready. I hope you aren’t a heavy sleeper,” he finished. Mark felt nervous. He had no idea what Johnny was getting at.

A few days had passed and Mark had succesfully avoided you. Whenever you were back at the apartment with Johnny, he was either in class or out with friends. Honestly, you were a bit nervous after everything that happened. Johnny had uncovered something that you had no idea was even a thought in your head. You felt a bit guilty but he seemed to take it really well. Almost too well.

Everything was normal between you two. You were staying the night like you often did when you felt the familiar feeling of Johnny playing with the hem of your shirt. You always wore loose clothing around him for this very reason. You were very used to him taking a nipple of yours into his mouth in the middle of the night whenever you were cuddled up next to him in bed.

Your eyes fluttered as you fumbled around with the shirt before feeling Johnny’s mouth meet your chest. He dropped a few kitten licks across your nipples, making your core heat up.

You groaned, roping your hands into his hair and pulling him against your breast, making him latch his entire mouth to your sensitive bud. You moaned softly.

“More... I need more,” you whined. You gripped tighter at his hair when you heard a high pitched mewl escape from the lips of whoever the fuck was attached to your chest because you knew straight away that wasn’t a sound that could ever leave Johnny’s mouth.

Your eyes flew open, first settling on Johnny’s figure at the end of your bed. He had his hand buried in his sweatpants and was stroking at his length with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. You gasped as you looked down to see Mark. His soft lips rubbed against your skin. His eyes sparkling eyes fluttered open and met yours as he moaned softly again.

“Noona, Johnny made me—“ he tried to say with his mouth still attached to your nipple. The humming of his voice made your head spin as it sent shockwaves through your body. You shook slightly before letting Marks name slip from your lips. The sound alone made him harden in his pants. Johnny got closer, until his mouth was latched against your other nipple and your head fell back against the pillows on his bed as both boys snuggled against you.

You felt tugging at your shorts. Johnny was trying to get them off. You lifted your hips in response as you felt him drag the material down to your thighs before giving up. Your panties followed and soon you could feel his fingers circle around you clit achingly slow, winding you up. You circled your hips to meet every movement of his hand as you felt wetness pool between your legs.

After a few minutes of painful teasing, you felt johnny release your nipple from his mouth and then Mark. The boys whispered between each other as Johnny continued to keep you distracted by making his fingers run through your folds, gathering your juices.

You watched as he lifted his fingers towards Marks lips. The boy hesitated briefly before letting his mouth fall open and wrapping his lips around Johnny’s fingers and sucking them clean.

You groaned as you watched the boys together, bonding over their desire to please you.

“Touch her,” Johnny mumbled as he slipped his fingers back out of marks mouth to continue circling at your clit. You felt marks fingers prod softly at your hole before he let them glide into your entrance, rubbing your insides in all the right places. It didn’t take long before both boys had overstimulated you. With Johnny’s fingers picking up speed on your clit, and marks fingers hitting your g-spot while the both of them assaulted your nipples, your orgasm came crashing through your body. Their names spilled from your mouth.

As you came down from your high, Johnny’s lips met yours in a passionate kiss. Mark was still suckling softly at your nipple, eyes closed, in a state of relaxation.

“Look at him,” Johnny whispered against your lips. “I think he’s falling asleep and he hasn’t even cum yet,” you said. You nudged mark awake as his eyes fluttered open.

“Mark, are you okay?” you asked sweetly. The boy looked up at you as if you were everything to him — with stars in his eyes. He nodded. Johnny pulled at his chin, guiding him until mark hovered in front of your face. He froze, somehow feeling nervous.

You bridged the gap quickly, pulling him towards you and capturing his mouth in a soft kiss. As expected, Mark was polite and respectful towards both you and Johnny. He relied on you to make the first move and control the pace. You begged for access to his mouth, letting your tongue softly brush against his as you felt him melt into your touch.

Johnny was asleep, mouth still on your nipple when you pulled away from Mark.

“Does he always fall asleep like that?” Mark asked in wonder as he looked down at his hyung resting so peacefully against your naked chest.

You nodded. Mark yawned and moved to get out of bed but you pulled him into you as well.

“Don’t leave,” you cooed. You watched him turn softer as he shrunk into your side, closing his eyes and going back to swirling his tongue around your nipple. You roped your fingers through his hair the way you knew he liked. He was definitely about to have the best sleep of his life.

#kinda short blurb here #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 smut #nct smut #nct127 #nct imagine #mark lee #johnny suh #nct johnny scenarios #nct johnny hard hours #nct johnny smut #mark lee fanfic #mark lee smut #mark lee fanfiction #johnny smut #superm smut #nct hard hours

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showrunnerihardlyknowher · 3 years ago

Note

26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

Text

When He Sees Me // Benedict Bridgerton

Request: Hey! I've just finished reading all of your Benedict fanfics and it's like, "let me have more!!!" *-* Could you maybe write something where the reader and Ben meet at Mr Granville's house? Where the reader is lower class and mocks him for with his lord manners, and eventually they get along well and all that? And he falls in love with her but she's just a seamstress and is scared he fetishizing her poverty and the "starving artist" lifestyle... Thanks in advance, love your writing xxx - anon.

A/N: Thank you so so much! This is such a sweet message. Thank you for requesting something from me; I can only hope I have done it justice. This is a really long fic, I know that - it really did get away from me. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy and I hope you are all well!

Title: Waitress - When He Sees Me

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and nudity, making out, amorous activities, light voyeurism (very light), class divides, pining, mutual pining, fluff, light angst, humour, Bridgerton family feels. HAPPY ENDING.

Word count: 6.8k (this is so long, I am so sorry)

“Bridgerton!” Henry Granville calls, a large smile spreading across his face as he spies Benedict by the front door. “I was hoping you’d make it.”

“Here I am,” Benedict laughs, spreading his arms wide in evidence.

Granville chuckles, grabbing a glass from a nearby tray and handing it to Benedict who takes a healthy sip immediately. “Come,” Granville gestures, “Let me show you around.”

Benedict follows the man he already classes as a friend. He hums at the appropriate time, eyes dancing around every room he is taken into, taking in the numerous pieces of art and the growing number of people.

Finally, Granville leads him to a room bathed in studious silence. Five people stand in the room; four stand behind easels – the picture of concentration as brushes scratching on canvas is the only sound in the room. The fifth person stands proudly before the back wall; posing elegantly, a lady stands completely naked save for an apple held delicately in the palm of her hand.

“This is Ariadne, our life model for tonight,” Granville introduces, smiling at the model without an ounce of care that she stands naked in his living room.

“Ariadne,” Benedict nods, doing his best to look anywhere but her naked body. He wasn’t usually this awkward around women, but the last thing he expected tonight was a life model. His usual influences for art came from clothed members of the public.

Granville takes a seat at an easel, studying Ariadne with great care before picking up a thin brush. As he runs it through the nearby oil paint, he calls to Benedict, “Join us!”

Benedict shakes his head, heading towards the door. Granville nods understandingly; it was a lot for a person’s first time at a soiree such as this. “Another time perhaps,” Granville says as Benedict leaves the room.

Closing the door, Benedict leaves the artists to their muse. His fingers twitch for his sketchpad, thinking of the images he could create; he had seen the empty seat in front of a spare easel, but he couldn’t bring himself to sit down and create the art he saw in his mind. Another time, he thinks to himself.

He turns away from the door where his attention is immediately tethered to a couple across the hallway.

The couple are in the middle of an embrace; connected at the mouth with hands beginning to wander clothing. The stays to the lady’s dress are loosened, the relieved gasp quickly swallowed by her partner’s mouth. Hands continue to wander; moans swallowed by joint mouths. It’s a sight to behold even as the position is changed; the woman straddling her partner, beginning to move her hips to the rhythm of music only they must be able to hear.

Unable to tear his stare away from the couple, Benedict feels his mouth drop open at the impropriety before him.

“Come now, Mr. Bridgerton,” A feminine voice teases, “Surely you’ve seen worse.”

Benedict bristles; unhappy with the tone of her voice and the accusation lightly punctuating the air. “Not that it is any of your business, but I have seen worse.”

Her eyebrows fly into her hair, clearly not expecting the rebuff. Benedict represses a smile at the expression on her face; his eyes dance around the hallway, not knowing where to look without fear of landing on the amorous couple. Benedict had never been one to shy away from love and lust and where it can lead you, but he had never been witness to such an event. The last thing he needed for himself (and his family) was to be classed as a voyeur.

“Follow me,” She announces, crooking a finger at Benedict before walking away.

Helpless and out of his comfort zone, Benedict follows the nameless lady. His eyes pour over her figure as he walks behind her like a lost puppy; her dress is finely made, the fabric clearly new. Benedict keeps his eyes fixed head, refusing to let his gaze drop any lower as she opens a door, standing to one side to let him enter first.

The room is adequately sized; enough room for a fireplace already blazing, a couch big enough for two and a small table and chairs. It’s comfortable; the room is well lit from the candles around the room and the large fire.

The well-dressed lady follows Benedict into the room, leaving him standing in the centre as she heads towards a drinks cabinet. She grabs two glasses and a decanter of liquid that Benedict cannot decipher. Scotch, whisky, brandy – all three would fare him well at this point.

Wordlessly, she hands Benedict a drink. A knuckle’s length of amber liquid swirls in the glass, lit up by the roaring fire. “You have me at a disadvantage,” Benedict starts, “You know my name, but I do not know yours.”

She smiles; eyes crinkling from the force of it. “You can spy a Bridgerton by the colour of their eyes,” She snorts, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it, “I’m (Y/N).”

Benedict bows his head; the very picture of gentlemanly politeness. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

If possible, (Y/N)’s smile grows larger, trying her hardest to repress the laughter bubbling inside of her. “This isn’t your usual scene, Mr. Bridgerton.”

Benedict shakes his head. “I’m a friend of Henry’s and call me Benedict please. After being witness to the couple outside, I think we can forgo formalities.”

Laughter escapes her mouth, powerless to help herself. Benedict frowns at her reaction, but (Y/N) waves a hand in apology. “I remembered your face,” She offers in explanation, “You mentioned that you had seen worse, but you still looked so scandalised.”

Benedict huffs, crossing his legs, sipping at his drink before answering. “I didn’t know what to expect from tonight. Henry is an artist! I just never expected that.”

“We’re all artists, Benedict, in one form or another. We’re practically bohemian.”

“Does that happen often?” He asks, nodding towards the door where Benedict holds no doubt that more clothing will have been lost between the enamoured couple.

(Y/N) lifts a single shoulder in a shrug. “More often than not. The intimacy that is required with art combined with the amount of alcohol consumed tends to lead to such things.”

“Have you ever taken part in such things?” Benedict asks before realising the extent and implication of his words. “Forgive me,” He coughs, “I’m not usually so forward. You don’t need to answer.”

“No, I don’t think I do,” (Y/N) answers honestly, amused at the lack of filter from the Bridgerton. “Why don’t I ask the next question?”

“Please do,” Benedict responds, loosening the cravat at his neck, deciding to take it off altogether.

“Tell me,” She begins, eyes on the skin now bare to the room, “Do you prefer paints or pastels?”

“Neither,” Benedict answers, “I prefer graphite or charcoal.”

“Interesting…”

“Is it?”

“It is! But I cannot think of a reason why.”

Benedict snorts, draining the last few amber drops in his glass. Silent for a moment, Benedict hums before asking, “Do you draw?”

“Heavens no,” (Y/N) responds, “I’m a talented seamstress, but landscapes and watercolours are not for me.”

“Then why are you here?” Benedict asks; the words unintentionally sharp. He cringes before offering (Y/N) an apologetic smile.

“My friend invited me,” (Y/N) defends, “You met her earlier.”

“I did?”

(Y/N) nods. “You did. She was the life model you were trying your hardest not to ogle.”

Benedict flushes; heat spreading from his neck to his cheeks – partly fuelled by the alcohol in his system, partly fuelled by the knowledge of being caught out. Benedict clears his throat, unable to hide his embarrassment. “I didn’t think anyone had noticed.”

(Y/N) smiles widely. “They didn’t, but you don’t make it habit to frequent such parties. It was clearly a shock to your system.”

Benedict exhales with a laugh; all the while wishing he had another drink in his hand. “I’m not new to art,” He confesses, “But I am new to this… environment.”

(Y/N) leans forward in her chair; her eyes sparkling in the dim candlelight. A coy smile crosses her lips and Benedict idly wonders what she would taste like as she asks, “And what do you think of this new environment?”

Benedict drags his gaze away from (Y/N)’s mouth to look her in the eyes. Evenings like this are something he could quickly get used to so long as he had her company in the early hours of the morn. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he answers, “With your company, I’m fairly certain that I could come to enjoy this new environment.”

“Only fairly?” (Y/N) murmurs, sipping at her drink before continuing, “I think we’re going to have to turn ‘fairly’ into an absolute.”

Benedict tips his head to one side, wondering whether it would go against societal customs to offer his hand in marriage after only knowing someone for an evening. The thought lingers at the back of Benedict’s mind as he replies, “I have complete and utter faith in your ability to do such a thing.”

(Y/N)’s answering smile has Benedict wondering about marriage for a second time in less than two minutes. What would be the appropriate time to ask someone for their hand? He thinks. A powerful enough thought that Benedict has to look away from her; desperate not to ruin a newly budding friendship.

The clock strikes one; the chimes making (Y/N) jump as they ring through the tension-filled room. A sad sigh leaves her lips as she stands, placing her glass on a nearby table.

“I’m afraid I must go,” She declares, biting her bottom lip, lingering in front of the Bridgerton.

Benedict rises from his seat, his voice close to wobbling as he murmurs, “Must you?”

(Y/N) smiles wistfully. “Not all of us have family money, Benedict. I have two dresses to finish for tomorrow evening and I need to sleep.”

“Will I see you again?” He asks, unable to keep the hope from his voice as his mind spins all sorts of fantasies of their next meeting.

(Y/N) nods; Benedict’s heart soars.

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Benedict Bridgerton. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” Benedict replies a second too late. She’s gone and Benedict is left to wondering how many seamstresses there are in London.

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

If Benedict was thinking logically, he knew that there wasn’t thousands of modistes and seamstresses across London. He knew that the number was much closer to hundreds, but to him that was still too many. He thinks back over the interactions from that night, examining the conversations, trying to find a hint of whether (Y/N) had given him the address of her shop. The more he cross examines, the less evidence he finds.

At this point in his investigation to her whereabouts, Benedict was no longer thinking logically. He was thinking with his heart – desperate to see her again so soon. He didn’t want to have to wait until another party where she just might show up. No, he wanted to see her in her own environment where Benedict had no doubt she would flourish.

He makes himself wait three days before beginning the task of tracking her down. His first port of call was to Henry Granville, asking whether he knew anything of the lady accompanying the life model. Henry knew of her by face, but not much bar her first name. He leaves Benedict with a word of encouragement and a promise of another party soon; Benedict thanks the man heartily, knowing that Henry had tried his best.

However, it left Benedict in a predicament that meant he had to bring in reinforcements.

“I need your help,” Benedict pleads of his dear sister, Eloise Bridgerton a day after starting his hunt for her.

“Whatever for?”

“I need to find someone… a friend.”

“A friend?” Eloise asks sounding very much as if she didn’t believe a word leaving her elder brother’s mouth.

“Am I not allowed to have friends?” Benedict asks of his sister, exasperated at her curiosity. Eloise raises a single eyebrow, and it isn’t a minute later that Benedict begs of his sister, “Please do not tell mother.”

The laughter that leaves Eloise lasts for the next three streets, her chuckles grating on Benedict’s nerves. “Where did you meet her?” Eloise eventually asks, much calmer now that she had gotten the laughter out of her system.

“At Mr. Granville’s if you must know.”

Eloise doesn’t answer; she casts her gaze across her brother’s face, reading eh expression there and the hopeful look in his eyes. Whoever she was, she had done a number on her brother for him to be this desperate to find her.

“Why not wait for the next party?”

Benedict huffs, “She may not go to the next party, then I would be back at the beginning.”

Eloise falls silent again. She watches her older brother, watches how he fiddles with his fingers – a nervous tic he’s hand since he was a boy apparently, it happened more when he was itching to reach for his sketchpad in an attempt to keep his mind quiet.

“She’s really made an impression on you, hasn’t she?”

Benedict sighs, peering up at his sister as he calms his hands. “Please?” He asks quietly, not daring to voice the beg any louder than it needs to be.

Eloise reaches across the gap between them, covering Benedict’s hands with hers. For a moment, he isn’t the elder brother but a man in need of help. “I’ll help you, Benedict.”

“Thank you,” He replies; the relief in his voice evident as his whole body relaxes.

-----------

The tightness in his chest that has plagued him for the last week lifts as soon as his eyes land on her. She hasn’t seen him yet; too busy with another client gushing about their latest dress. (Y/N) looks flattered as she takes in compliment after compliment and Benedict can see why; she is clearly a talented modiste. If it didn’t raise suspicion on his end, he would suggest his mother come here instead of the seamstress just off Grosvenor Square.

The customer soon departs leaving Benedict and Eloise the sole clients in the shop. (Y/N) brushes down her dress, collecting herself before greeting her newest customers.

She freezes when she finds the tall stature of Benedict Bridgerton in and amongst the countless mannequins of her shop. Plastering on a polite smile, she steps forward, “How may I help you today?”

Benedict remains frozen; his stare solely focused on (Y/N). Eloise steps forward, nudging her brother in the side with her elbow. Eloise smiles at (Y/N). “From my brother’s reaction, we have found who we were looking for.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m in the market for a new dress,” Eloise states, elbowing her brother once more.

“Yes!” Benedict coughs, brought out of his stupor, “Eloise needs a new dress.”

(Y/N) glances between the siblings; the awed expression on Benedict’s face combined with the knowing smile on Eloise’s doesn’t settle her nerves. Instead, it heightens them. (Y/N) turns to Eloise, flashing her a friendly smile. “If you wouldn’t mind, could I borrow your brother?”

Eloise snorts. “You may keep him if that helps.”

(Y/N) laughs, covering her mouth before grabbing Benedict’s hand, leading him to the back of the shop. “What are you doing here?” (Y/N) questions; her eyes wide as she closes the door behind them. This was a conversation to have in private; not one to be had in front of Benedict’s sister.

“Accompanying my sister to buy a new dress for an upcoming ball,” Benedict replies smartly, his tone innocent as he applauds himself for asking Eloise to join him on his mission.

(Y/N) fixes him with a flat look, not believing a single word leaving his lips. Benedict flounders for a second before smiling bashfully at the seamstress. It wasn’t often that Benedict was left speechless, but (Y/N) reduced him to such manners.

After a moment, Benedict sighs, deciding honesty to be the best policy. “I wanted to see you again.”

(Y/N)’s face softens at Benedict’s confession, unable to fend off the growing fondness for the Bridgerton. If she was being honest with herself, (Y/N) hadn’t stopped thinking of the man since leaving Mr. Granville’s party.

Just as quick as the fondness set in, so does the worry on Benedict’s behalf. Gesturing between them both, (Y/N) offers Benedict a sad smile. “Nothing can come of this, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“What do you mean? Call me Benedict, you did the other night.”

“There were no class lines the other night,” She all but cries, “Outside of Mr. Granville’s home, we cannot be friends, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Benedict,” He emphasises, “To you, I am Benedict. Not ‘Mr. Bridgerton’.”

“Benedict,” She whispers, giving in to the pleading look in those blue eyes of his.

“Why can’t we be friends?” He asks quietly as if scared to voice such a question louder out of fear of the response.

“You’re the son of a Viscount. I am a seamstress. Outside of my making dresses for your female relatives, where do our paths cross socially?”

“I want them to cross,” Benedict protests almost childishly, crossing his arms as if they were the personification of the budding relationship blooming between (Y/N) and himself.

(Y/N) laughs without humour. “Think of the fallout, Benedict. You would lose friends and contacts. I would be reduced to the rumour of a mistress and lose clients.”

Benedict purses his lips; trying to find fault in her argument but he comes up empty. Class lines were so rigidly drawn in current society and Benedict knew that (Y/N) was more than deserving to be thrown to the vicious rumour mill of London ton.

“What about Granville’s parties?” Benedict offers as a solution. “You say we cannot socialise so openly so let’s meet there with every party.”

“You would go to that extent to win my friendship?”

He nods. “I had the most fun the other night than I had in a long time and I have a very strong feeling it was down to you. You say we cannot be friends so openly, so this is the next best thing. Do I feel go about keeping you a secret? Not particularly, but London society can be unforgivably cruel, and I’ll be damned if I see you suffer at the hands of it.”

(Y/N) blinks rapidly, ridding herself of the tears that grew throughout Benedict’s impassioned speech. “Mr. Granville’s it is, then.”

Benedict smiles; relief flooding his system at your words of agreement. Impulsively, he takes your hand, squeezing it once before letting it drop. The very action sets his veins alight with emotions he has not felt in a very long time, but he doesn’t not let them distract him as he whispers, “I’ll send a messenger with the date and time of the next soiree. Will I see you there?”

“You will,” (Y/N) murmurs, “I promise you.”

Benedict flashes her a handsome smile before returning to the front of the shop, knowing full well he has been too long to be acceptable.

Eloise greets him with a superior smile. Crossing her arms, she asks, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Turning back to face the back of the shop, Benedict smiles to himself. “Yes, I think I have,” He answers, offering Eloise an arm, departing the shop once and for all.

-----------

28th April, 9pm. Mr. Granville’s home. I hope to see you there.

The missive arrives not four days later. (Y/N) reads and rereads the small piece of paper, memorising Benedict’s elegant handwriting. Anticipation curls in her gut making it hard for her to focus on the task at hand; she had three dresses to finish all for next week. If she didn’t focus now, nothing would get done. She would end up wasting the evening by daydreaming of a Bridgerton and their handsome smile.

She hadn’t expected him. He had entered her life so suddenly. After their initial meeting, she hadn’t expected to see him again; had accepted that it was a one-off meeting that Benedict would soon forget, soon taken with the newest fascination in his life if he wasn’t married off by the end of the season.

That didn’t happen. Instead, he had shown up in her shop with his sister in tow. He had begged for a friendship, to see her again. He kept surprising her at every turn, kept startling her when she least expected it.

Yet, she knew she had to be careful. Not only of her heart, but of her reputation. If the two were caught and things misunderstood, it would not be Benedict to suffer. It would be her; she would be reduced to rumours of impropriety, labelled a ‘fallen woman’ whilst Benedict would most likely suffer a harsh word from his mother and a clap on the back from his brothers.

Society, in general, was cruel. London society, however, was punishing when it wanted to be.

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

The 28th April rolls around quickly. (Y/N) losing herself in her work, sewing until the late hours of the night and the early hours of the morning to ensure that the gowns are ready and that she is free enough to attend the party.

Stepping out of the carriage, (Y/N) steadies herself for a moment, taking a deep breath to settle the butterflies exciting her. She felt ridiculous, letting herself be this affected by the man after only one meeting. Yet, he had shown up at her shop, after searching for her for however long.

(Y/N) felt in two minds. On one hand, she wanted the friendship of Benedict Bridgerton for the simple fact that he was entertaining. On the other hand, she despised the idea that she may be a project for the man – their opposite places in society becoming a barrier between them.

The atmosphere in Mr. Granville’s house is heady as (Y/N) enters the premises; the party very much in full swing as she sheds her shawl and leaves it on a side table. She smiles at those she recognises, waving quickly at Ariadne who she finds modelling for many artists once more. Ariadne smiles back but doesn’t move; her eye on a particular artist, a female she knew she would be going home with that night.

(Y/N) shakes her head fondly at the antics of her friend; having known Ariadne for years and loved her proclivity for men and women. (Y/N) admired Ariadne’s lack of shame for who she is, who she wants to be. She doesn’t let the law stop of her from loving who she wants to.

Arriving at the door she entered through last time, (Y/N) hesitates, feeling unsure of herself. A small flash of doubt lances through her mind as she reaches for the doorknob; how long was this going to last before Benedict got bored? How long did she have with the man that was no doubt going to change her world?

The very thought haunts her as she enters the room, finding Benedict in the same spot as last time. He stands when he sees (Y/N) standing the doorway; his suit elegantly rumpled as if he had been sat there for some time. His blue eyes sparkle in the dimly lit room; the only light coming from the fire in the grate. His smile brightens as he takes in her appearance.

“You came,” Benedict breathes, his voice relieved as if he was worried that she may not attend the party after all.

“I promised you I would,” (Y/N) replies, taking the offered glass from Benedict. Their fingers brush and (Y/N) tries exceptionally hard to ignore the jolt of electricity that passes between them. Friendship, she snipes to herself, nothing more.

“I know,” He whispers, “But I’m glad all the same.”

Something in (Y/N) melts at the stark honesty of his words; she found herself being knocked off her axis and it was only their third meeting.

“I have to know,” (Y/N) starts, her voice amused as she takes a seat across from the brunette, “How many shops did you go into before finding mine?”

Benedict averts his gaze, distracting himself from answering by taking a long sip of his drink. “Too many,” He eventually answers.

“You don’t know the number?”

“I know the exact number, I could even tell you their names, but I hesitate to tell you.”

“You have to tell me now,” (Y/N) prompts, leaning forward in her chair, resting her elbows on the table. “Please?”

Benedict sighs a war-weary sigh; acting as if (Y/N) had worn him down to his very last nerve. With a light blush dusting his cheeks, Benedict admits, “I visited close to fifteen shops with Eloise before finding yours.”

“Fifteen?!” (Y/N) all but shouts, laughter soon falling from her lips as rain would fall from the sky. The very sound sets Benedict’s heart racing within his chest making him wonder whether it was going to run right out of his chest any moment.

“Eloise was very grateful when we found you. She despises dress shopping.”

“Yet she went to fifteen dress shops with you in order to find me.”

“She’s my favourite sibling, but don’t tell the others.”

“How many do you have? I’ve heard of the famous Bridgerton brood but never focused long enough to find out how many children there were.”

“Eight of us in total,” Benedict laughs at (Y/N)’s gasp, “We’re named alphabetically too. My father used to joke it was so he could keep track of us easier.”

“A wise idea,” (Y/N) murmurs.

“He was a wise man,” Benedict states, thinking of his departed father with a keen sting of grief. It didn’t matter how long his father had been gone, the wound would never heal. He would miss his father until his very last day on this earth; Benedict would spend the rest of his life trying to emulate Edmund Bridgerton’s life lessons.

A pensive silence descends only for a moment before (Y/N) asks, “Why did you look for me?”

The blush returns to Benedict’s cheeks. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you again?” He asks sheepishly. He had prepared himself for such a conversation but having it in real life was no comparison to the fantasy in his head.

“Why did you want to see me again? Why not wait for the next party?”

“I wasn’t sure you would attend the next party,” Benedict reasons, “And I really did want to see you again.”

(Y/N) smiles bashfully, ducking her head as his words wash over her. She fiddles with the stem of the glass in her hand before taking a long sip; the worries from earlier had returned with the conviction behind his words. She had to know; if she didn’t ask him, she would never know and she would never be prepared for the day he would inevitably grow bored and move onto the next project. “Can we be honest with each other for a moment, Benedict?”

“I thought we have been so far.”

(Y/N) smiles despite herself. Schooling her face into a mask of polite interest, she tries to cover the concern and worry steadily rising in her gut. “This isn’t a saviour moment for you is it? Befriending a poorer seamstress, getting to know her before eventually getting bored?”

“I haven’t thought of it as that for one moment.”

“You haven’t?”

“I haven’t, but the fact that you have says more about my character than I care to admit.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” She hurries to say, worried about losing the friendship that had only just begun and scared of hurting Benedict’s feelings.

“You haven’t insulted me,” Benedict promises with a small smile.

“I can’t help but worry,” She admits in a small voice.

“I would socialise with you in public, but you made such a sound argument the other week that I couldn’t find fault. You’re right, it could lead to all sorts of trouble, but I want you to know that I do not have a saviour complex. I just enjoy your company.”

(Y/N) relaxes, sagging further into the chair as she lets herself breathe freely since the worrisome thought entered her mind. Now that it was out in the open, she could smile more without worry. “I enjoy your company too,” She confesses, “You’re quite refreshing.”

“Refreshing?” Benedict asks, sounding close to laughter.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes at the older gentleman. “Yes, refreshing. I deal with meddlesome mothers and droll daughters all day. You make me laugh… it’s refreshing.”

“I’m glad I can provide refreshment,” Benedict laughs, his smile wide with his happiness.

Happy smiles are exchanged as the worries leave (Y/N)’s mind. She was wanted here by the man sat across from her; he had no plans to leave any time soon. For now, her mind is settled and as she raises her glass to the Bridgerton across from her, she briefly wonders whether her heart would soon be settled too.

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

The friendship continues for weeks; neither of them the wiser to their growing feelings for the other. If they are, they remain silent, not wanting to disturb the status quo but rather, pine from a distance.

They continue to meet at Mr. Granville’s, sneaking away to their room where they talk for hours about anything and everything.

At one point, (Y/N) manages to convince Benedict to bring his sketchpad with him where he fills pages with drawings of her. She doesn’t realise it; she doesn’t know that the small sketch of hands holding a champagne flute is Benedict’s study of her.

Time passes and they become attached to the other; saving pieces of information and stories of friends and family for when they finally get to see each other. The time they have together filled with laughter; the class lines that separate them outside Mr. Granville’s home practically invisible as Benedict chokes on his drink at the scandalous nature of (Y/N)’s story, unaware such language could leave such a woman.

It’s easy, it’s natural. It’s all Benedict has to fill his time between the mind-numbing balls and luncheons set up by his mother in order to find him a wife. Little does Violet Bridgerton know that Benedict has found someone he would devote the rest of his life to but whether she would be willing, whether she loves him as wholly as he loves her is another matter entirely.

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

He starts to haunt her dreams from their very first meeting. The colour of his eyes combined with the brightness of his smile chased her from sleep much faster than she would have liked.

Sitting up in bed, she rests her chin on her knees, feeling the helplessness that often accompanies the swift descent into love.

In the short time she had spent in Benedict’s company, (Y/N) had to admit that she had fallen head over heels for the brunette. Sighing heavily, she tries to pinpoint the exact moment her feelings turned from platonic to romantic but finds herself unable to do so. At this point, she cannot help but wonder whether she had fallen for him the first instance she saw him. He looked so out of depth in his perfectly pressed clothes; it was adorable.

(Y/N) runs a hand across her face in an attempt to dispel the lingering tiredness but to also ride herself of thoughts of the man who had so readily captured her heart without knowing he had done so.

How could she explain this feeling? Her heart refused to calm in his presence, beating away in her chest as if ready to take flight. Benedict smiled in her direction and her mind ceased to form coherent thought. She didn’t tell anyone how in the darkest hours of the night, she stretched a hand across the empty blankets of her bed, imagining what it would be like to have Benedict lie next to her. Would he snore? Was he an early riser or did he prefer to sleep in?

Such questions would travel the expanse of her mind until the birds began to announce the arrival of a new day. Her mind creating daydreams that left her heart aching in her chest when she came back to earth, reminded harshly of the barriers that divided them.

What scent did he prefer? Did he favour scotch or brandy?

Endlessly she tortured herself with such questions. Spinning fantasies in which she woke up every morning with Benedict by her side. She would wake to find him already watching her, as if in disbelief that she would choose to love a man such as him.

A single tear escapes (Y/N)’s eye as she forces herself back to the present. Eyeing her small rooms, (Y/N) thought that she should be fortunate that a man such as Benedict Bridgerton would give her the honour of his much requested time. It would do her no good to fall in love with him now.

Straightening up and running a hand through her sleep plait, (Y/N) vows to rid herself of her feelings for the second eldest Bridgerton.

However, as the vow is sealed, a small voice in the back of (Y/N)’d mind casts doubt on her ability to do such a thing.

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

“Eloise has been asking after you,” Benedict comments; choosing the line of conversation for this section of the evening. At this point, they’ve been at Granville’s home for hours, covering all topics of conversation conceivable. (Y/N) had updated Benedict on Ariadne’s clandestine love affair with a daughter of a prominent member of His Majesty’s Navy to which Benedict spent over an hour trying to guess which officer and which daughter. (Y/N) delighted in announcing his incorrect guesses.

“How is she?” She asks, feeling a distant fondness for the woman who had shown up in her shop so many weeks ago.

“Distracted if I’m being truthful,” Benedict murmurs, “Her hands are always covered in ink. I think she has an admirer.”

“And why shouldn’t she?” (Y/N) demands, crossing her arms. “Eloise is a beautiful young woman. Any man would be lucky to have her.”

“She’s turned down the last three marriage proposals so I’m curious to see what type of man has captured her attention.”

“Siblings and their nosiness,” (Y/N) admonishes though there is no heat behind it.

“I want what’s best for her,” Benedict defends.

“I know you do,” She whispers, fondness for the man sitting across from her surging through her. It leaves her quiet; it leaves her breathless as she fends off the heart racing, stomach turning affection she feels for the second eldest Bridgerton.

Benedict closes his eyes, kicking up his heels and resting them on the table. A happy, content smile crosses his lips as he lets himself enjoy the moment they find themselves in.

I could do this for the rest of myself, (Y/N) thinks to herself, I could sit with him for the rest of my life.

It’s with that thought that (Y/N) knows she has broken the vow she made only a few days ago.

“You’re different tonight… quieter. Is something the matter?” Benedict asks, a note of concern in his voice.

(Y/N) shakes her head, refusing to look the man in the eye. Instead, she focuses her gaze on her glass, swirling the liquid around as if it were the most fascinating thing in the whole world.

Benedict sighs, reaching across the table, taking her glass from her hand and placing it on the table in front of them. He stops himself from covering her hand with his; that is a luxury for couples. As much as Benedict wanted more, he would settle for being her friend.

“You can tell me anything, (Y/N),” Benedict murmurs quietly, breaking her resolve clean in half.

“I broke my vow,” She whispers, voice close to breaking.

“What vow?” Benedict asks, panic beginning to rise internally. “Are you promised to another?”

“Nothing like that,” (Y/N) reassures, “I broke a vow that I made to myself which somehow makes me feel worse. I would rather I broke a promise of marriage.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

(Y/N) sniffles, wiping a hand under her eyes before laughing humourlessly. “A few nights ago, I made myself a promise and it seems that I am unable to keep such a vow.”

“Would you tell me that vow?”

(Y/N) sighs, seeing no point in lying to him. “I vowed that I would rid myself of my feelings for you.”

“And have you?” Benedict asks warily; he needs to know whether he has a chance to love her the way he wants to. He wants to be her everything; he wants to kiss her goodnight and then kiss her good morning hours later.

She shakes her head; wisps of hair flying loose from her updo. “I don’t think I ever really tried. I don’t think I want to lose my feelings for you.”

“I don’t often make grand declarations, I don’t believe in over the top displays of affection,” Benedict begins; his eyes fixed on her face, on every movement of her lips, “But I love you, (Y/N). I love you and if I need to, I will make a grand declaration, I will shout it from the rooftop of Buckingham Palace.”

“Please don’t do that!” (Y/N) gasps, an amused smile on her face. “I love you too, I love you with everything I am, but aren’t you worried?”

“Worried?”

“Of the fallout? It could never work, Benedict. See sense, please,” She pleads; eyes wide.

“Why wouldn’t it work? We love each other, surely that should be enough.”

“It is enough for me, Benedict,” She reassures quickly, “But it isn’t enough for the rest of society.”

“Why do you care what they think?”

“My entire business relies on such things, Benedict! Whether I earn an income over the season is down to what the ton think.”

“It is so easy to get lost in the wealth, the titles and the balls,” Benedict whispers, “You bring me back down to earth; remind me that I could happily live without the grandeur because I would have the love of the woman I have come to adore.”

The words have her argument crumbling into ash before her. There was no arguing with that; he was prepared to live a simpler life with her.

“You would do that for me? Live a simpler life?” She asks because she has to know; she has to know that she isn’t something he would come to regret in the weeks, months, years that pass. She couldn’t live with herself if he harboured any resentment towards her for his loss of societal ties; the very thought terrified her.

“Darling,” Benedict states, “I would give it all up for you. As long as I have you, I do not need the life in London and everything else that comes with it. We can live in the country; I have a cottage there that I am sure you’re going to love.”

“What about your family?”

“They’ll love your almost as much as I love you.”

“They won’t hate me?” She asks, voice timid as she thinks of the matriarch of the Bridgerton family, knowing she was not a woman to cross.

“They could never.”

(Y/N) begins to nod; slow at first before growing more rapidly with a smile breaking out across her face. “Okay,” She breathes, “I love you, Benedict Bridgerton. I’m not scared anymore.”

Benedict gathers her in his arms, finally getting to hold her after dreaming of such an action for so long. Better than his dreams, he thinks to himself as he glances between her stare and her lips. Silently, she nods, smiling softly as Benedict takes that final leap, pressing their lips together.

(Y/N) sighs against his mouth; a noise he could happily hear for the rest of his life. Her hands grasp the lapels of his jacket, pulling him even closer. She feels like heaven against him as Benedict continues to taste the remnants of her drink on her lips.

Her hands leave his jacket, reaching up to card through his hair. (Y/N) tugs lightly at the dark brown locks, smiling into the kiss at the sound of the low groan in the back of Benedict’s throat. (Y/N) loses herself in the feel of the man against her; all hard lines and muscles, he feels like a Greek god and she a mere mortal getting to experience the heady passion written about in epic poems and plays.

Desperate for air, but not desperate to leave the arms of the man she loves so wholly, (Y/N) breaks the kiss. Panting, Benedict kisses her lightly once, twice, three times before pressing his forehead to hers. A moment of peace before the rush of the future began.

Boundaries, divides, lines really meant little when you had found the one who truly saw you.

****

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @janelongxox @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley @spideysz

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagines #Bridgerton #bridgerton imagines

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 3 years ago

Text

Go Go Nekoma! Push it, Push it Nekoma! Coaches Chemisty (pt. 1)

Warnings: Angst, breakups, mention of virginity loss, Swearing

⚠️THIS FIC IS 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI ⚠️

Word count: 6000+ (split into 3 parts)

"I'm really sorry Y/N. I just don't see this going anywhere. We are both leaving for college soon and going to different schools at that" your boyfriend of the past 2 years, Naoi Manabu said as he looked down to the ground kicking the dirt below his feet.

Your eyes watered as you drown out the words he's saying.

"B-but we can make this work. I can come see you on weekends and we can still see each other over holidays and school breaks" you plead trying to save a relationship you know is doomed.

The past weeks had been rough to say the least. Manabu had been growing distant from you. Making excuses and staying later for volleyball practice to avoid walking home with you. To say it hurt would be an understatement. It broke your heart.

"Y/N I'm sorry, I just can't do this" Manabu said as he looked up seeing tears welling in your eyes.

"I love you. Doesn't that mean anything?" You say sternly as tears roll down your cheeks.

"Y/N-" he starts saying as you place your hand in front of his face.

"No. Don't. I gave you everything. I stuck by you through it all! I stayed late to walk with you home from volleyball practice. I came to as many games as I could! I stayed up late helping you study! Fuck I gave you my virginity!" You scream.

The emotions are just too overwhelming.

"Y/N-" Manabu tries to say as you turn.

"No. I'm done. Good luck with your life Naoi" you turn away letting the tears flow as you start to jog away.

Almost on cue the sky opens up and rain pours down on your head. This is just like one of those awful romance novels. The girl gets dumped by the love of her life only for rain to continue to dampen her day. Just fucking fantastic.

This was quite literally the worst day of your life.

*8 years later*

"Y/N darling can you please water the flowers outside. I forgot to have Vee do it this morning" Your boss asks you politely with a smile.

"Of course! Let me just finish this arrangement and I'll get to watering. You can head home if you like Bella. I know your poor husband must be starving waiting for you" you giggle as Bella rolls her eyes.

"Let him die. No good worthless piece of crap. Couldn't even take the garbage out last night like I asked him too" Bella huffed as she walked over to your table.

"Stay single Y/N, trust me getting married is for the birds. Sure you meet some handsome young man and he charms his way into your life but the MINUTE he says 'I do' its all down hill from there" Bella says to you as she sternly shakes her finger.

You can't help but laugh. Bella is in her 70s and has been married to the same man for 50 years. He's really very kind and helpful in the shop when he comes and visits. Sometimes you think Bella expects too much from her husband but she's quick to shut you up.

"If you don't establish dominance Y/N, these men will walk all over you! You are young and beautiful. You don't want any man. And if you do, find one who will worship the ground you walk on. A man who will lay his coat over a pile of manure for you to walk. A man who will put your pleasure before his own" she says as she lectures you for the 10th time this week.

Bella loved you like her own daughter. Her son had moved away years ago and wasn't around much. She often invited you and Vee to have dinner with her and her husband. The dinners were entertaining to say the least. Usually ending with Bella ranting about how naive women now a days are or how shallow men are.

You enjoyed your time with Bella and her husband even if you didn't share the same sentiment as Bella did.

You hadn't been on a date in over a year. Every relationship seemed to go the same way. There was never a connection. You tried hard through college and after to find someone but always managed to come up empty.

After you graduated college, you took a high paying job in Tokyo. While you were more than qualified for the job, it provided you with little pleasure. It wasn't until you stumbled into Bella's flower shop that you found yourself truly happy.

Surrounded by beautiful flowers and arrangements. It was like heaven. You returned to Bellas weekly to get a bouquet. Soon you found yourself becoming friends with Vee and Bella. It wasn't until Bella mentioned needing help that you made the decision to quite your job and start anew. While the jobs pay was much less than you had become accustom too, your lifestyle really didn't change. You sold your suits in exchange for overhauls, shorts and t-shirts. You got accustomed to dirt below your fingers rather than finely manicure nails. Sure it was a big change but you were so much happier.

You're days were long and busy. Often starting early and closing late. You didn't have family close by, and no significant other so you often took extra shifts and offered to help so the other two ladies could enjoy their husband's.

Both ladies knew about your past dating relationships and the "one that got away" as they so ironically referred to it.

You couldn't lie to yourself. You often thought of Naoi Manabu.

What was he doing?

You were sure he had to be married by now. It had been 8 years since you had last seen him.

After you broke up, you avoided the man like the plague. It helped you only had a week before school ended and you graduated. It didn't seem like he was too worked up over your break up. You had spent far too many nights crying over him.

You felt like you had lost the love of your life.

You, in fact, had.

💐🏐💐🏐💐🏐💐🏐💐🏐💐🏐💐🏐💐🏐💐

"KENMAAAA" Coach Nekomata screams "stop running from the ball! We've been over this a million times!"

"I'd like to keep my limbs thanks" Kuzome Kenma whispers as he turns back to see Kuroo Tetsuro snickering.

"Kenma you act like you've never blocked a ball in your entire life" Kuroo teases the setter mercerously.

"Well I wouldn't have to if someone had read into the switch" Kenma glares at Kuroo who's smile drops.

"Alright that's enough" Naoi shouts as the boys return to their practice match.

He sits next to Coach Nekomata as he sighs "do you think they will be ready for nationals? We've only got a month before we leave. They've still got a long way to-"

"Naoi have faith. They will be ready. They are strong" Coach Nekomata smiles as he watches the boys continue to practice.

The game ends as the boys begin to pack up the gym.

Yaku Morisuke sighs as he finishes his stretches.

"Yaku what's got you bothered" Kuroo says as he kneels down to the team libero.

"I'm just thinking about Mai. I really like her but how do I even tell her. Confessing isn't really my strong suit" Yaku says as he rubs the back of his head.

"How about chocolates? Or maybe flowers?" Kuroo says with a smug grin "girls love flowers!"

"Tsk like you'd know Mr. Periodic Table" Kenma says non-chalantly as he walks by.

Yamamoto Taketora and Haiba Lev laugh at the rooster headed team captain as he glares at the 2nd year setter

"Are you even sure she likes short guys Yaku?" Lev laughs as the team shakes their head.

Yaku runs up to Lev kicking him straight in his back.

"Dumbass" Yamamoto shakes his head as he puts the remaining volleyballs away.

"Why don't we go check out that flower shop on the way home? What's it called like Bella's or something. It looks pretty nice" Kuroo says as he gestures to Yaku.

"Kai, you coming?" Kuroo says to his fellow third year and co-captain, Kai Nobuyuki.

"Sure I'll tag along" Kai speaks softly with a smile.

"Alright guys good practice! Remember we have practice this Saturday as well in preparation for nationals" Naoi shouts as the boys groan.

"And Kenma no skipping out. I'll have Kuroo drag you here if he has to" Naoi glares at Kenma who shakes rolls his eyes and huffs.

The boys showered and change, preparing to head to the flower shop as they wave their fellow teammates off.

Naoi boards the train heading home to his small apartment. To say things have gone to plan in his life would be an understatement. While he was doing what he loved, his love life was lacking to say the very least. He had tried numerous relationships, only to have them fail because he could never fully commit. He often found himself in a one-sided relationship where his partner would confess their love but he couldn't.

It became draining for the people he was with so he ultimately stayed single. He knew, in fact, what the problem was. The problem was that he had messed up the only relationship that mattered to him. He'd blown his chances with the only person whom he ever truly loved.

He had blown his chance with you.

When he decided to break up with you, he really thought it was for the best. He knew you had a bright future ahead of you and he couldn't help but feel like he was weighing you down. He thought it would be best to let go before it became impossible. Not that it wasn't hard to do. It broke him.

He found himself unable to date for years. You had been his first everything and you had been it. He eventually forced himself to move on. Having one night stands and short term relationships but never more. Commitment was hard when it wasn't you. He still kept the ring he had wanted to give you for your third anniversary.

Unfortunately he never got the chance to after he inevitably broke you heart. He often found himself staring at it, wondering how life would have been if he had in fact stayed with you.

By now you must be married with babies he thought to himself. It hurt to think about but he knew it would never be. You'd never be his. And he'd never be truly happy.

#nekoma cats #nekoma #haikyuucoaches #haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #naoi manabu #justiceforthehaikyuucoachs

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officialgritty · 4 years ago

Text

Sometimes I ask myself

How much could the NHL handle? What would they do if I, Zoe, had the opportunity to become a GM of my own team?

Another short essay by officialgritty. Here is the masterlist, it would be best to read them in order!

The Drafting Process

First of all, I’ll only accept picks for even numbers besides 7, 13 and 69. Odd numbers can choke.

I hate public speaking so I would nominate my assistant (still have not decided on one so feel free to send your applications into my DMs) to call out our picks. It’s probably the smartest decision considering I mumble a lot and have an accent so no ones names would be pronounced correctly anyway.

Personally I would like to draft one (1) beer league player. I think they could really get the team riled up, maybe even rack up some decent penalties for other teams by instigating.

“The Vermont Villains would like to select... big boy INSERT NAME.” - Assistant

“The Vermont Villains would like to select... string bean INSERT NAME.” - Assistant

“The Vermont Villains would like to select... sorry the mic cut out, after this can we have an intermission? I’m starving. Oh, we pick twinkle toes INSERT NAME.” - Me

General Rules / Other

There are no Capricorn’s to be allowed within management or on the team besides me. I was going to say, “I’m sorry I don’t make the rules,” but I quite literally do.

I am banning Crosby and MacKinnon from ever joining the team. In fact, when they visit for games the staff will ‘decorate’ a stall for them in particular.

I will be starting a petition for teams to be allowed 5 non-forfeit forfeits, meaning you get 5 chances to say, “No I don’t want to play that team today.” Both teams get no points though. It’s almost like a mental health day and I think that's neat.

The Team

(art via @chaos-hockey, please check out their account!)

The Vermont Villains are based in Vermont obviously, because there’s not a whole lot happening there. What even is Vermont for?

The team slogan is one everyone should be familiar with:

“No whole body, no murder.”

Our team intro song as players step out onto the ice is Be Prepared from The Lion King.

Our goal horn is someone sneezing, the audience will be sprayed with a light mist of sea water for effect.

Our team song played when we win will be Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked by Cage the Elephant.

As for team rivals, we have @chaos-hockey‘s creation the Insert Team Heres. They seem so sweet, I think the Villains would have a great time messing with them. I also believe we would have some beef with the Penguins, I don’t really have a reason for it, I just feel it deep in my gut. Maybe they get their knickers in a twist because we keep stealing their good stuff idk.

Mascot

The mascot wears a neon ski mask that changes based on the team’s choice in jersey. His name is Monday, because he’s always creeping up on you and causing mayhem through the grandstands. He has a water pistol attached to a tool belt, what's the tool belt for? No one ever truly knows until it’s too late.

Gritty and Monday would get along like a house on fire.

Uniform

(art via @chaos-hockey, please check out their account!)

You may notice the presence of three jersey’s and think to yourself, “Oh there's a home, away and an alternate.” Wrong. We have two home jerseys and an alternate.

On Wednesday’s we wear pink. Seriously. This jersey is only to be worn on Wednesday games.

All of the jerseys have players names written on the back but it’s only in a script font so it’s hard to read. Announcers will be confused, players will be confused but fans won’t be because they are used to it by now.

All of their numbers are written out in Roman numerals.

Each season the team colours change (besides pink Wednesdays). Why? Because I don’t like commitment. We would make hella money on limited time merch too.

Speaking of merch, every player will need to design a pair of crocs for fans to purchase as merch. This is not limited to the players, management must also participate. Yes, you can buy the George from Statistics crocs. I really just want my own crocs and to not be judged for it.

“I’ll take one of the Zoe crocs please!” - A fan

Now we can’t limit the uniform just to the team, I’ll show up to games rocking a power suit Michelle Obama inauguration style. Always in the same colour as the team jersey for that night. Yes, we are implying that I am Gritty.

“I want them to fear me but also want to fuck me.” - Me

(art via @chaos-hockey, please check out their account!)

For all working, team socks must be worn when entering the practise and game facilities. A sock check will be conducted at security. We will not let anyone in if they are not wearing Team Socks™️

(art via @chaos-hockey, please check out their account!)

You may be wondering about the away jersey still but don’t fret. We get to the arena early and steal the other team’s clothes. Some end up in their suits, some in their away jerseys and some are left shirtless. Whatever we can or cannot find before puck drop.

Arena

The arena won’t be boring that's for sure.

Out the front we have a massive V sign, just like how you see a McDonald’s sign from so far away, you’ll know when you get close to the arena.

Instead of stairs, each seating section has a harness that you get hooked up to for when you want to change levels. And each time that you want to get down, there’s a swirly slide.

Music played will be my favourite mashups from the YouTube account William Maranci to psych out competitors. Here is a link to one of my personal favourites:

youtube

Obviously the team will need to listen to these before they are played for the first time to desensitise them. This will be done at the monthly team Disco.

During the intermission, all the lights in the main area will be turned off. Unofficial nap time my friends.

The menu consists of mutton, bagels on a stick, your choice of charcuterie board, fairy bread and fairy floss. For drinks you can either have carrot juice, Corona beer (we have a brand deal with them) or black tea with no milk.

In conclusion, it’s a good thing that I don’t have a lot of money and/or power, the NHL would hate me because they ain’t me and I have too many good ideas in my brain.

Thank you so sticking through it for this long, here’s all my love and affection 😘🥰❤️

Once again a big thank you to @chaos-hockey for bringing my ideas to fruition. Also thank you to Mik for encouraging this whole concept in our messages ❤️

Here is a part 2!

Tagging some of my mutuals/favourite accounts (please don't feel pressured to interact with this if it isn't your thing, I won't be offended):

@scheifefe @nikolajehlers @kempe @bowenbyram @d00dlebob @travisgermy @ifiwasshawnmendesidslapmyself @dmonchld @kiedhara @sortagaysortahigh @matthewthotchuk @babytkachuks @bricksatlandyswindow @canadianheaters @youngbeezersmixtape @pitoftrash @perpetually-anxious @kspitehockey

Sorry if I’ve forgotten anyone, I didn’t want to tag every single person I follow 💀

#no one got tagged :(#I will be doing school with my phone on mute so when I come back to this I EXPECT chaotic responses and chaotic responses only #I really have no idea what to tag this so I guess that’s it #let’s just hope it doesn’t flop anyway #the Vermont Villains #nhl #hockey #z does other stuff

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decennia · 3 years ago

Note

i give u free reign to infodump ab all of the knights and the og army bc i am vv intrigued agjgssgsh

THERE IS SO MUCH HERE OMFG MORAL OF THIS STORY NEVER ASK ME TO INFO DUMP BECAUSE I WILL TAKE FULL ADVANTAGE OF IT—

I've separated it into sections:

The Knights of Walpurgis, and the motivations for their assigned sins.

Dumbledore's First Resistance, and the motivations for their assigned virtues.

The dynamics between the opposing contenders.

Given the sheer volume of information, I've included a cut. Please enjoy this manip that I am still very proud of.

THE KNIGHTS OF WALPURGIS (later known as Death Eaters) Tom Riddle (Pride)

Pride and arrogance were very large contributing factors to Tom Riddle's downfall in the end, and honestly, the whole idea for the gifset came from Florence + The Machines' Seven Devils playing while casually thinking of Dagrim and Tom, and then about how perfectly Tom would fit as Lucifer.

Dagrim Patil (Avarice)

When questioned about what she wants, and what Riddle promised her in exchange for her unwavering loyalty, her response is, quite simply: everything. Dagrim grew up starved not for affection, but recognition. And what she was denied in childhood, she would take in adulthood by force. Her philosophy is that if something is worth wanting, it is worth taking.

Cantankerous Nott IV (Lust)

We know so little about Theodore Nott's father from the source material, other than he was elderly, and he raised Theo himself. And that he was a Death Eater, of course. His name is an ode to his ancestor, the Cantankerous Nott who created the Sacred Twenty-Eight pureblood directory. I assigned him "lust" purely for the events leading to the conception of his son (sis, it gets messy).

Abraxas Malfoy (Envy)

Abraxas Malfoy envied Tom Riddle to the point of a half attempted mutiny. He was quickly put in his place, his co-conspirators made examples of, and spared only for his close friendship with Dagrim, who pleaded for his life. Riddle, who trusted Dagrim to a fault for all she'd done to earn it, conceded. Abraxas would later prove himself to Riddle again, regaining his seat among Riddle's favoured generals. He was the one who taught Lucius to never disobey the Dark Lord, and he was not a kind teacher.

Ulysses Mulciber (Gluttony)

Indulgence and excess, spoiled rotten and filthy rich. The Mulcibers were the richest of the Sacred at one point in their lives, rivalled only by the Malfoys. Ulysses never knew the meaning of "enough," and was a glutton not only in all manners of vice, but also for cruelty, dealing it out carelessly with little to no regard for the repercussions he was well protected from by his noble standing and wealth. He was one of Riddle's greatest allies and sponsors, and instrumental in his rise to power.

Carmilla Avery (Wrath)

Carmilla was in the year above Riddle, and was quick to anger and slow to calm. Her temper was legendary, and even her younger brothers – also admitted into the Death Eater ranks – feared her. She had an untempered fury, a rage at the world for no reason at all. She developed an unhealthy codependency with Abraxas Malfoy, who served to have a soothing presence over her. People seldom survive crossing her, as her reputation dictates.

Serafine Lestrange (Sloth)

Serafine is not lazy (as the sin "sloth" would suggest), she just lacks the motivations to pursue the goals that are expected of her. A particularly bright witch, and a wealthy one too, she never applied herself at school for she didn't see the need. Instead, she fell into a fascination of the Dark Arts, where she met Riddle, perusing the Restricted Section. She is rather discontented with life, disillusioned from already such a young age. She initially joins Riddle's gang for the excitement of it all.

DUMBLEDORE'S FIRST RESISTANCE (later known as the Order of the Phoenix in its official conception in 1970)

Albus Dumbledore (Patience)

Name a man more patient than Dumbledore, I'll wait. Better yet, he'll wait, because he's patient as hell. So patient, in fact, he waited until after Harry's supposed death to come to him as a hallucination and tell him about how he was a Horcrux.

Rathin Patil (Temperance)

Temperance is abstinence, and I wanted to explore the kind of toll having his sister so far gone into the dark would have on any man, let alone one who really cared for her and wanted to do right by her. Rathin is not a perfect man, he is still fallible, and unfortunately, he develops a dependent comfort in inebriation when Dagrim disappears with Riddle. He pulls himself back together, especially when he becomes Isaiah Moody's partner at the Ministry, and he begins to pursue Miraya.

Miraya Varma (Diligence)

Methodical and persistent, Miraya Varma earned herself a position at the Ministry immediately out of Hogwarts where she would later go on to form her own task force within the Ministry specifically designed for the interrogation and recommended sentencing of dark wizards and witches. She has been known to put her duty first, up until the birth of her son, Divyansh Patil, father to Padma and Parvati.

Isaiah Moody (Humility)

For a very long time, people seldom knew the Moody name, and that was the way Isaiah liked it. He believed that his line of work would endanger his loved ones (in spite of his wife being in the same profession) and so he never took credit for the numerous arrests he made. It was Isaiah who suspected something was strange about Morfin Gaunt's arrest while investigating the Riddle Massacre, and consulted Dumbledore about it. Once his identity was discovered and he was viewed as a threat by Riddle, an attack was made on his heavily pregnant wife, jeopardizing her and his unborn boy's (Alastor) life.

Minerva McGonagall (Chastity)

Mini Minnie is seventeen, my dudes. But not only that, Minerva grew up with a religious father (he was canonically a reverend), who probably taught her his values. Also given the fact that Minerva was the first of the younger generation to participate and involve herself in the war (she sought out Dumbledore and enlisted herself into his Resistance, fearing her family would be made into another statistic if she didn't at least do something to intervene), she really didn't have much time to think about something as arbitrary as the concept of virginity. Also, it's the 1950s.

Corinne Scamander (Kindness)

Corrine is honestly the greatest. She has all of the tenacity of Tina, and the best qualities of Newt. It was Dumbledore's previous bond with Newt that encouraged him to recruit her, and she willingly accepted, because of course she would. She'd always been the soft spoken girl with a tender touch and a love for life, and she was often the advocate for hope in the resistance. She was adept in a few healing charms she'd learned from her father, and was something of a specialist in magical beings, proving herself to be highly valuable while Riddle was expanding his ranks with all manner of dark creatures.

Declan Diggory (Charity)

Sacrifice is in the Diggory blood, and Cedric's grandfather, Declan, was not the first to prove it. He also, unfortunately, wasn't the last, but he sure was one of the best. Selfless to a fault, Declan would willingly get hypothermia if it meant someone else would have warmth. Diggory's contributions to the war effort consisted of offering sanctuary and shelter to muggleborns who received death threats, and orchestrating the evacuations of targeted muggle residences. He was the leader of a small faction of the resistance, including, but not limited to: Fleamont Potter, Enoch Longbottom, Wilhelm Shacklebolt, and Ramona McKinnon.

DYNAMICS (just the contenders for now because this is hella long)

Albus Dumbledore vs. Tom Riddle

Adversaries, a fair deal of mistrust and guilt from Dumbledore's side (upon reflection, he'd been the one to introduce Tom to the wizarding world; even though he knows that if Riddle had been left unchecked, the risk of him becoming an Obscurus would've resulted in catastrophe all the same). Riddle sees Dumbledore as nothing more than a foolish old man, a pest, and an obstacle to overcome at first, but learns to begrudgingly respect Dumbledore's strength and mastery of magic (after all, Riddle only knew him as the Transfiguration teacher before, and thought the accounts of Dumbledore's victory over Grindelwald had been exaggerated to great effect). Riddle's hubris was believing he could defeat Dumbledore on his own, thinking himself already stronger than Grindelwald ever hoped to be.

Rathin Patil vs. Dagrim Patil

Rathin had always been very protective of Dagrim, and loved her dearly, although his acts of affection were often misinterpreted as pity and condescension. This only served to push them further apart. When Dagrim turned to the Dark Arts and found solace in Riddle, it revolted Rathin, as he was hugely against the corruption the Dark Arts has on the performing witch or wizard, and wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. He still very much loves her, and it hurts him to fight her. Dagrim, on the other hand, finds catharsis in duelling her brother, believing it to be justice for the way her parents treated her and the little he did to dissuade them.

Miraya Varma vs. Cantankerous Nott

A mutual respect and an academic rivalry, Cantankerous and Miraya were not friends by any means, but not enemies, either. Cantankerous even went as far as to warn Miraya of an impending attack, allowing her to evacuate the building. But although he knows she's clever, he also knows that she's incredibly stubborn, and displayed little surprise to find her awaiting him in the now vacant building. They are equally matched, and their unique relationship spans several decades, even into Cantankerous' failed run at Minister for Magic, and Theodore and the Patil twins' time at Hogwarts. She was present at his trial following the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, and watched as he was sentenced to life in Azkaban for his crimes as a Death Eater.

Isaiah Moody vs. Abraxas Malfoy

Given his profession, Isaiah has a lot of enemies on the Sacred Twenty-Eight who are loyal to the Dark Lord. One such enemy is Abraxas Malfoy. When Tom gets word of Moody's involvement in solving the Riddle Massacre, he sends Malfoy and a newer Death Eater, Evangeline Rosier, to hinder the investigation. Abraxas and Evangeline were responsible for the attack on Isaiah's heavily pregnant wife, who, if she hadn't been an Auror herself, would've never survived. Alastor Moody was prematurely born at St. Mungo's following the attack, and all of Isaiah's efforts were turned on exacting vengeance on those responsible. Malfoy went into hiding, but Isaiah, ruthless, managed to hunt down Rosier. She died under questioning, setting in motion a vicious cycle of vengeance between the Moodys and Rosiers. Once Isaiah had been killed by Evangeline's brother (Evan [who was named after her] Rosier's father), Abraxas deemed it safe to rejoin society.

Minerva McGonagall vs. Ulysses Mulciber

On the list of things Ulysses loathes, he would put half-bloods above muggleborns (although he turns a blind eye to his Dark Lord's blood status when it conveniences him). Half-bloods only serve as a reminder of the lowest and weakest of his kind; the unworthy muggleborns, the lecherous blood traitors, the vermin muggles. Mulciber prides himself as something of a "purifier," and finds great enjoyment in pruning family trees that have been poisoned by muggle blood into purity once more. He takes a great interest in Minerva McGonagall, given that she is an incredibly powerful witch at such a young age, and he wonders how glorious she would've been had she been a pureblood (a twisted and untrue belief among the Sacred Twenty-Eight during that time). Minerva, the threat of Mulciber weighing heavily on her, places her family under Dumbledore's protection. She vows to stop Mulciber and his perverse idea of justice.

Corinne Scamander vs. Carmilla Avery

It didn't take much to enrage Carmilla Avery, and Corinne had been caught in the tempest Carmilla's fury since the day they'd met. Carmilla, who took great pleasure in picking on people she deemed lesser, made a target out of Corinne, perceiving her kindness for weakness. During their time at Hogwarts, Corinne had gained the attention of Avery for being a blood traitor and a muggle sympathizer, which only strengthened Carmilla's vindication. Corinne, who had been friends with Rubeus Hagrid prior to his expulsion, and who had almost fallen prey to the basilisk when she had heard Myrtle Warren's cries from the bathroom, never lowered herself to Carmilla's level nor did she rise to any of the challenges. This hurt Avery's ego, as she thought this was Corinne's way of claiming herself better than her. It wasn't until after Hogwarts that Carmilla's growing resentment came to a head, and, without the protection the school offered Corinne, Carmilla was looking to finally put an end to the blood traitor line of Scamander.

Declan Diggory vs. Serafine Lestrange

Declan and Serafine were childhood friends who drifted apart during their time at Hogwarts, particularly when she fell in with Riddle's crowd. She is viewed by Dumbledore as having the power to sway the entire outcome of the war, for if Serafine could be persuaded into leaving Riddle, her cousins (one of whom is the father of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange) would surely comply, and the families who held the Lestranges in high regard would be inclined to follow. This makes Declan and Serafine key pieces in Dumbledore's game of strategy. However, Serafine was disowned long before she defected from the Death Eaters, leaving the Lestranges firmly in Riddle's grasp. Although Serafine claimed to feel nothing for Diggory, she still refused to deal any real harm to him when they duel, in spite of having ample opportunity to do so; something which Riddle picked up on. She was later forced to torture Declan in front of him to prove her loyalty to the Dark Lord, something which Declan permitted her to do, knowing she had very little choice in the matter. He was left for dead, but Serafine would later secretly return with Corinne to get him medical attention. She gives her son, Francis, "Declan" as a middle name.

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