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emberfrostlovesloki · 9 months

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Now You're Everything [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@unheartbreakable) Center (@milla984) Right (@poseidonsarmoury)

Prompt: It’s been a long time coming and after an emotion-heavy year, Aaron finally shows the BAU-reader how much he wants them.

Pairing: Aaron x fem!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns.

Category: fluff/comfort/minor whump.

Word Count: 9.9K

Content Warnings: Light swearing and drinking, mention of kidnapping and torture [Hotch], Hospitals and IVs, Minor unwanted advances [reader]. If I missed any, please let me know.

A/N: Hi, loves! Happy New Year's Eve! This is for my love @silk-spun. It is the second fic I’ve written based on my December Prompt List (linked) Dialog prompt #6: “Let’s skip the office party and go out on the town instead!” I changed the wording a bit, but this is basically all the times Aaron and the reader don’t have the right words to confess, and the one time they don’t need them to get their message across. There is one short mention of Aaron being tortured on a case, and I plan on turning that into a full fic soon. So look forward to that (?). I hope you have a great evening and stay safe. If you like this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List wil all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_y/l/n_ = your last name

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color

_y/f/c/b_ = your favorite caffeinated beverage (i.e. coffee/tea/energy drinks)

_y/l/f/d_ = your least favorite designer

_y/f/d_ = your favorite drink

Aaron looked around the room which was shockingly full for it being 9:30 p.m. He scanned the groups of people clustered around tables and sitting in chairs talking. Some had plates of food, others glasses of alcohol or sparkling soda. The person whom the supervisory special agent was looking for wasn’t there. He wondered if she was using the lady's room. The last time he’d seen _y/n_ she was being cornered by Freddy from finance. Aaron hadn’t attempted to listen in on the conversation because it was mostly Fred talking to _y/n_. It seemed the pox-faced man wasn’t letting _y/n_ get a word in edge-wise. That sounded like a personal hell that he would avoid at all costs. He had to do enough wine-ing and small talk at the annual Winter Holiday party as it was. He’d talked to Strauss, the Director of the Pentagon, and all the other heads of teams that had made it to Quantico for the party. He’d heard about so many cases that they started to blend together, but for Aaron, nothing would top his team or the crimes they solved. Hotch listened to Bernard Shaw, head agent for the Tax Fraud department, as the white-haired man droned on about a new loophole for the Cayman Islands and how much of a pain it had been that year. Aaron looked over his team with a soft appreciation for how hard they all worked, how they had gelled to feel more like a family than just profilers doing a difficult, dangerous job. There was Derek, who could always be called on to help with anything. The built agent was talking to Spencer. The genius had been so young when he joined the team. Aaron had taken on a fatherly role with Spencer without even thinking about it. Before Jack had ever been born. Rossi had just taken Aaron’s place with Strauss, and they were talking about some half-shared hobby or new bureau policy. Both of those conversations looked the same. Hotch caught Dave’s eye and the older man gave a small shrug, indicating, “This is what the holiday party is for. Making nice one last time before we get a break.” Aaron gave a small nod of agreement before turning his attention back to Shaw. The man hadn’t noticed as Aaron’s attention had waned and then returned to him. Hotch cleared his throat and said, “I’m going to refresh my drink, but it was good to catch up, Bernard, and good luck in dealing with the fallout of S.B. 103b.” Bernard nodded, and the two men shook hands before Aaron walked back to the table with the alcohol on offer. As Hotch poured himself a glass of white. He guessed at how much the liquor alone for this party cost. His guess was around 2,000 dollars. The FBI didn’t ever recommend frivolous spending, but even they realized that sticking a hundred agents and department heads together required the good stuff.

As Aaron sipped on the cool chablis, he swirled the liquid in his glass slightly. The rare sound of mirth at this dull and quiet frankly depressing party was coming from his team. It was Emily, JJ, Garcia, and _y/n_.” As he looked at _y/n_ in her semi-formal _y/f/c_ dress that was just long enough to be appropriate, Hotch assumed it was some cocktail dress _y/n_ had pulled from the back of a closet behind all of _y/n_ business formal and work attire. The black tights made the outfit work in a fashion way that Aaron didn’t have the right words for. He had to tear his eyes away because if he kept looking at _y/l/n_ much longer, the butterflies in his stomach would soon unfurl their wings and move into his ribcage in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Aaron moved to Rossi, who was free now for support. Dave grounded him, which he needed right now. His feelings for _y/n_ had been coming to a head for months now and somehow, Aaron didn’t feel the bureau holiday party was the place for a confession. Even if _y/n_ was receptive to his advances, he worried. His role as her superior and the age gap had him wondering if they had enough in common to sustain a relationship. They’d grown up in different decades, and y/n_ seemed to have the youth and energy he lacked as he neared late middle age. The part of Aaron that longed for _y/n_ in unexplored ways knew that Hotch’s concerns were self-imposed. That _y/n_ had been sending him small signs of affection and care that didn’t even think he deserved. But Aaron’s fear was real and steeped in policy and power dynamics that would come with having a committed relationship with _y/n_. Hotch moved next to Rossi and asked his friend about his New Year's plan. If he was currently seeing anyone. The basic life and catching up questions that they rarely had time for during work. As Dave answered, Hotch’s eye kept flicking back to _y/n_, as she laughed at some comment of Penelope’s. Rossi noticed and stopped talking about himself. Instead, he said, “She’s not going to wait forever you know, Aaron. _y/n_’s a patient person, but I think she deserves to know how you feel about her.” This comment had Hotch flush and take a breath in. Aaron had tried very hard to keep any of his feelings for _y/n_ hidden beneath a cloak of professionalism and feigned disinterest in the team's personal life as a whole. After all, he was their boss foremost, but it was hard to tune out when the team spoke of their weekends. It was doubly so when it was _y/n_. He’d overhear her complaints about bad dates and rent, and how her dryer was broken in her unit. Hotch had wanted to offer to fix it himself but stopped himself before the words could slip from his mouth. He’d also heard her when she talked about the good things like a new cafe she had found, or getting tickets for a band she adored. If _y/n_ was talking and Aaron was around, he listened but tried to look very hard to not look like he was listening. He wondered if he had played into that a little too hard. Hotch looked at Rossi and asked, “Is it that obvious? And what if _y/n_ doesn’t feel the same way? Her feelings could just be due to proximity, or that I’m her boss or something.” Rossi scoffed and said, “You’re deflecting, Aaron. This isn’t Fifty Shades of Grey. A young woman is allowed to have feelings for a guy, who in my opinion is a pretty good catch.” Dave’s complement had Aaron scoff, but that didn’t stop Rossi from continuing. “Listen, Hotch. I knew you liked her and that she liked you ever since you were in the hospital after the case in Indianapolis. I think what happened in that hospital room told me that there was more than just a feeling of friendship between you and _y/n_. As for whether her feelings are the same way for you and you do for her, I can’t tell you. I’m no love expert. But you’re never going to know how she feels about you unless you ask. And I think you both deserve to know the answer, Hotch.”

With those words of advice, Dave gave Aaron a pat on the arm and excused himself for the night. The older profiler had done the rounds with the higher-ups and was excited to head home, nurse a whiskey, and watch an episode of The Suprano’s. Aaron on the other hand still had about five people to speak to before he could excuse himself. The added discussion about _y/n_ wasn’t going to make small talk any easier. So, with wine still in hand, he steeled himself for another hour of conversation. Hotch had almost made it through the last of his people. He needed to “catch up with.” The room had cleared significantly since his talk with Rossi. Derek, Spencer, and Em had all left, waving or saying a quick goodbye to him as they exited. Garcia was talking to a tech friend of hers from the third floor, and JJ was speaking in hushed tones to Will. But _y/n_ was nowhere to be found. Hotch watched as Arnold, the last person he should talk to approached him. Aaron didn’t think he could take any more small talk, and because Arnold was in Legal, he always asked Aaron loads of questions. Although Hotch didn’t mind flexing his JD now and again, he preferred to do it in a courtroom, not at parties, and not with Arnold Shortes nearly taking notes over their conversation. Aaron turned on his heel and walked quickly to the elevator before Arnold could catch him. Even after a few minutes _y/n_ still hadn’t come back into the second-floor conference room which had been cleared and rearranged for the party. He considered that _y/n_ might have dipped out with Emily, but he was sure she would have told him goodbye before she had left. She always told him goodbye unless he was in a meeting or seemed overly absorbed in his paperwork. _y/n_ introducing her comings and goings had become so routine that he used it as an informal clock now. _y/n_ would always enter the bullpen at 7:45 a.m. sharp unless there was something amiss. And then in the evenings at 5:10 p.m., she’d knock on his office door and wave before skipping down the stairs and to a life that Aaron assumed was filled with much more interesting things than his own. In fact, Hotch had become so accustomed to using _y/n_’s timeliness that he had almost missed a meeting with Strauss because of it.

Hotch had been sitting in his office looking over a case report, waiting to hear _y/n_’s chipper, “Hey guys,” down in the bullpen. He knew once he heard that he’d have just enough time to grab a coffee, wave to the team, and then make it to Strauss’s office. But it seemed to be taking longer than usual. Concerned, Aaron looked at his watch and was startled when he realized it was already 7:55 a.m. Aaron had to run to the elevator and just barely made it to the meeting on time. After the hour with Strauss, he had found JJ and asked, “Where’s _y/l/n_?” A tinge of concern laced his voice. The media liaison had replied, “She caught a bad cold last night. She just called Emily to let her know that she’s taking the day off with PTO.” Aaron nodded, absorbing the information. He was glad to know that _y/n_ wasn’t in any trouble, or stuck in traffic, but being sick didn’t sound great either. Aaron had spent the rest of that day fiddling around anxiously. Hotch knew it was because of _y/n_ but refused to admit it. Finally, when 5:10 came around, he pulled out his cell and called _y/n_. She’d picked up on the third ring and sounded terrible as she said, “Hey, Hotch. What is it?” Aaron let out a breath and said, “Sorry to disturb you, _y/n_. I just wanted to see how you were doing?” There was a muffled cough on the line, and Aaron cringed as _y/n_ hoarsely replied, “I’m still feeling pretty bad, but the fever is down at least. Hopefully, I’ll be back in a day or two.” Hotch nodded and replied a little too quickly, “Take all the time you need, _y/n_. When you feel better, come back.” There was an awkward pause because Aaron didn’t know what else to say, and _y/n_ hadn’t expected to hear such genuine concern coming from her normally very composed superior. At least not over a little cold. Eventually, _y/n_ who was feeling sleepy again said, “Thanks for checking on me, Hotch. I’ll be alright, just need some sleep.” Again, Aaron nodded. He replied, “Okay. Rest well, _y/n_. See you in a few days.” After that, he hung up and put his head in his hands in desperation. He knew he shouldn’t be having the feelings he was for _y/n_ It was inappropriate. His inner voice reminded him, “She’s sick goddamn it. She probably doesn’t want you around right now.” Aaron did justify his line of thinking slightly because he was just picturing making her some tea to smooth her throat and tucking the blankets around her more tightly. It’s not like he was having sex with her… though he’d had those thoughts before too. In his waking mind, he could stop those images with ease, but in his dreams when he made love to her, it was always overpowering. A time or two, he’d even waken mid-dream to find his body aroused and tense. On these occasions, he’d had to go to the bathroom and find release below a steaming shower. The guilt of doing this weighed on him heavily. One of the times he had done this was during a case, and he hadn’t been able to look at _y/n_ most of the day without flushing and internally reprimanding his body and mind like a teenager. But a majority of Aaron’s thoughts about _y/n_ centered around mundane things like waking up beside her, or cooking dinner together. Aaron knew he was boring, and led a boring life, but if it was possible, he’d like to lead it with _y/n_ beside him. Aaron sighed as the elevator reached his team’s floor. He wished he didn’t sound so melancholic, so lovesick. It wasn’t like him. But _y/n_ pulled the emotions from him like the moon pulled the tides. If nothing else, Aaron had learned something valuable tonight; as Rossi had said, _y/n_ wouldn’t wait for him forever, and they both deserved to know how the other felt about the other.

The bullpen was mostly dark with a few lamps on some desks still on, plus the lamps in Aaron’s office burned down on the rest of the space with their soft halogen glow. Hotch didn’t want to seem like a creep, but he wondered where _y/n_ had wandered off to, or if she had just left without telling him. The latter sounded unlikely. Hotch moved to her desk and noticed that _y/n_’s chair was pulled out with her bulky coat draped over the back, and her sneakers and socks sitting underneath the desk. This indicated to Aaron that _y/n_ was still around. Aaron leaned against the desk, much like Morgan did every day when _y/n_ got into the office. Hotch flushed at the idea of _y/n_ sitting in the empty chair. Being so close and causal like Derek or Garcia were with her. Hotch rarely found himself jealous of Morgan for many reasons, but in this case, he was. He couldn’t afford to be too casual with anyone on the team, especially not with _y/n_. If he was, he knew he’d fall head over heels for her. It was hard enough thinking and dreaming about her. He didn’t need more fuel for that fire. Thinking about this sparked a memory from earlier in the year, and suddenly, Aaron had a sense of where _y/n_ was. It had been after a long day in October. The time change had meant that it was dark outside before anyone left the office. The whole team was still around filling out some reports, except _y/n_ seemed to be missing. Hotch approached Emily and asked, “Where’s _y/n_?” Prenitess chuckled at his question and said, “Licking her wounds up on the roof. Freddy Hareld from Finance just made a big deal about “Just how keen _y/n_ looked. And how she must just be dying to get to know the city better now that she’s part of the BAU, and wouldn’t she let him show her around on Sunday.” Hotch’s eyes grew wide at the story. He was rarely privy to office gossip, even though he knew stuff like this happened around him all the time. However, his co-workers kept him out of the loop, which he didn’t mind until now. Aaron cleared his throat and asked, “Did she seem alright?” He wasn’t one to notice or judge men much, he knew he wasn’t perfect either, but Freddy didn’t seem like _y/n_’s type. Hotch was surprised the man had mustered up the courage to ask. Emily nodded and said, “She just looked annoyed. Apparently, Fred talked, loudly, for about five minutes before she had to shut him down and tell him that she wasn’t interested.” Even though Aaron trusted Prentiss, he wanted to make sure that _y/n_ was okay for himself. Office drama could be uncomfortable. Hotch had spent a good bit of time on the roof himself when he was new to the team. It seemed to be one of the only places in the building where you wouldn’t be disturbed, but now that Aaron had his own office, he didn’t need to find an escape from the team or his own thoughts anymore Much like the first time he had found _y/n_ on the roof seeking an escape, _y/n_ was leaning against the railing, looking out onto the canopy of trees that surrounded the Quantico office and the highway beyond them. Hotch cleared his throat, as he stepped closer to _y/n_. She turned around and felt a blush paint across her face when she saw it was him.

_y/n_ had just been thinking about him, and there he was. _y/n_ had been considering how they had both been dancing around the other's feelings all year. And two things _y/n_ knew for sure, she wasn’t great at dancing, and her feet were fucking tired. _y/n_ had hoped that there would be a way for her to tell him how she felt without it being awkward or jeopardizing her job. She hoped that she’d at least shown Aaron her care with her actions if not her words. Unfortunately, the few times that had seemed perfect had been cut off by Haley and Jack. The first time had happened in June. A terrorist group was planning on poisoning the largest high school in the region. It had all been a test run for a bigger operation that would take place in D.C. The team had caught on the terrorist’s trail first. But not before Hotch had been taken and tortured for information. The few seconds of audio that Aaron’s captors had shared were so sickening to _y/n_ that she crumpled in on herself and almost vomited. She couldn’t hide how much hearing Hotch in pain was hurting her. When the cell had been caught, the other half of the team moved to Aaron’s location. _y/n_ had shot and then subdued three men before she, Rossi, and Spencer found Hotch black and blue and tied to a chair. He was barely conscious with his mouth gagged. The wad of cloth in his mouth was soaked with sweat and blood that had dripped down the side of Aaron’s face from a large gash on his eyebrow. _y/n_ helped free his mouth while Spencer cut off the zip ties around his battered arms and legs. Rossi was on the phone with the paramedics who were already en route. Once Aaron’s limbs had been freed, he slumped heavily into _y/n_, who supported his weight. She and Spencer helped him to the ground, and he groaned in pain at being shifted. _y/n_ quickly took off her outer jacket and covered his waist. His kidnappers had stripped him of everything but his briefs, and _y/n_ was certain he didn’t want to be so exposed. The paramedics came shortly after and took Aaron to the nearest hospital._y/n_ was grateful that she didn’t have much time to see or think about all the cuts and burns littering Hotch’s prone form. Seeing him like this felt so wrong that it twisted her insides.

Later, when the doctor had methodically detailed Aaron’s injuries, _y/n_ burned with a fit of anger even _y/n_ didn’t know that she possessed. When he was cleared for it, the team had all gone and saw Aaron in his room. He was surrounded and attached to multiple medical devices keeping him medicated and stable. Even though everyone appreciated Aaron and what he had gone through, no one particularly wanted to stay with him long after wishing him a good night’s rest. No one except _y/n._. Aaron knew it was his fault. He hated hospitals. He would gripe and groan and generally be in a foul mood until he was released as quickly as possible, so he was surprised in his pain-induced state to see _y/n_ pull up a chair close to his bed and just plant herself there. Aaron shifted on the bed to look at her better. That was a bad idea as a sharp pain moved up his side. Hotch muttered, “Fuck” under his breath. He moved his left hand which was attached to an IV toward his stomach to apply some pressure where the pain was radiating from. _y/n_ watched as Aaron moved around. He was straining the line of his IV, and _y/n_ jumped up softly saying, “Hey, hey. Take it easy there Hotch. Just stay calm if you can.” Aaron grunted, but acquiesced as _y/n_ took his left arm and rested it back by his side. She looked at him, concern etched on her face as she asked, “Where does it hurt, Hotch?” Aaron swallowed and almost said everywhere. But his stomach was especially tender and he said, “My, my stomach, but you don’t have to do anything _y/n_. You don’t need to stay here. I’m a pain in the ass when I’m like this.” _y/n_ nodded in understanding as she gently applied a bit of pressure to where he had been trying to reach earlier. He closed his eyes as _y/n_ gently rubbed circles over the inflamed flesh of his torso. Any words about protocol or regulations left him as soon as _y/n_’s hands met his clothed skin. He let out a breath and _y/n_ asked, “Is this okay? I can get a nurse for you?” Aaron shook his head no. He was sick of being poked at. Having three IVs was already putting him on edge. The possibility of more medical equipment was too much to bear. And whatever _y/n_ was doing was soothing him. Hotch softly said, “No nurse. Please. This is good.” Even saying those words seemed to exhaust him. _y/n_ just nodded and kept gently running her hand over his stomach. She didn’t want to think about how this was probably breaking ten rules, or how Aaron’s body looked under the flimsy hospital gown. She just kept moving her hands and watched as Hotch seemed to still and then finally sleep. When his breathing had evened out, _y/n_ pulled the covers over him again and took her seat once more. She didn’t care if he was in a mood or snapped at her. _y/n_ just didn’t think he should be alone right now. So she was going to sit with him until either he told her to leave or someone in the hospital kicked her out. It was at that moment that all of her disparate feelings for him coalesced into one of love. Not a fling or a passing fancy, but the kind of love that lasts through illness and grief and every other part of life. _y/n_ sighed and thought, “What a time to have a revelation like this,” as she kept watch over her boss, unable to leave his side.

Aaron had shown interest in her too. _y/n_ felt a bit better that she wasn’t the only one falling in love. He was more subtle about it, or at least he was trying to be. But that hadn’t stopped her from noticing how he looked at her, how his gaze lingered just a second too long in meetings. He’d pull his eyes away quickly as if he’d been caught doing something improper. Then there was the time he’d called her when she was sick and how he’d seemed a little too excited to have her back after a short four days of illness. And he looked out for her on cases. Not that Aaron didn’t look out for everyone, but he seemed to take her comfort more seriously than he needed to. He held the door for her and let her sit in the passenger seat so they could throw ideas back and forth. At first _y/n_ had thought it was just because she was the newest member of the team. But the behavior from Hotch continued, and just one time on a case, he’d pulled her out of a line of fire and rolled on top of her even though he probably didn’t need to go that far. As Aaron let out a breath of excitement over the case and the woman below him, _y/n_ caught the tells of desire on his face. It didn’t help that they were in what could be an intimate position. His pupils were wide and his breath came in little gasps. _y/n_ didn’t need to see his groin to know that he was excited down there too. After a second, Hotch quickly got up and helped _y/n_ stand too. Aaron nervously straightened his shirt and tie and after quickly asking _y/n_ if she was okay, and her response of “yes,” he moved away from her to gather some semblance of composure. The fact that Aaron was flushed and couldn’t look at her for the rest of the day told _y/n_ all she needed to know about Hotch’s thoughts about her. Or at least the uncontrollable whims of his strong body. _y/n_ didn’t let herself get carried away. Aaron was still her boss, and she was his agent. And because of this neither had said anything or acted like they were falling in love with the other because it didn’t feel like it could happen. Not to them. But now as _y/n_ sat by his hospital bed, she wondered what it would be like with Aaron. To peek behind his well-kept facade and just be close to him. _y/n_ assumed this was the nearest she’d ever come to that, so she settled in for a long night and decided if this was all she was getting, then she would accept it. Fate had never been so kind to give her something as lovely as Aaron, Hotchner, and she accepted it.

It was a long night. Hotch woke almost every hour in pain or needing to adjust for his comfort. _y/n_ moved his pillows and blankets for him, helped him drink a glass of water, and called a nurse when he needed to relieve himself. The next morning she was tired, but when Aaron woke, he seemed much improved. He softly said, “_y/n_, thanks for last night. For being here. You made being here, comfortable for me.” _y/n_ took his hand softly and rubbed over his knuckles with her thumb. Gently she said, “It was nothing, Aaron. I’m just glad you’re okay.” _y/n_ was so tired that she was about to speak transparently and say, “I’d do this all the time if you needed me to. I don’t mind staying up all night with you whether you’re sick or not.” That was the closest thing to a confession that _y/n_ could think of. But she had been interrupted when a nurse knocked on the door and said, “Mr. Hotchner, your son, and Ms. Brooks are here to see you. Should I let them in?” Hearing this, _y/n_ dropped his hand and her head a tiny bit. She stood and said, “I’ll give ya’ll some space, Hotch.” Aaron nodded yes to the nurse, and watched as _y/n_ left the room. He felt like he’d just missed something big, but didn’t know what. _y/n_ passed Haley and Jack in the hall. _y/n_ gave the pair a small smile and nod, and she made her way to the hospital lounge to get some much-needed coffee. The Hotchner-Brooks divorce was still very new, and _y/n_ wondered where things had fallen apart between the two of them. She also wondered if there was any chance at all for her and Aaro. It didn’t feel like it at the moment.

_y/n_ snapped back to the present when Aaron said her name more loudly. He was holding out his suit jacket for her and saying, “You look a little cold.” Hotch was right, she was cold. _y/n_ had wished she’d brought her coat up to the roof almost as soon as she had stepped outside. However, she was too lazy to want to go back in. She’d escaped Freddy’s boring conversation and looked at Aaron right before she moved to the roof for some fresh air. _y/n_ was pondering if she should just give up her dreams about Hotch. Neither of them seemed to be making any moves out of fear that they might say no to the other or that they might ruin the strong friendship they had now. _y/n_ was getting tired of it though. But then there was Aaron as always being a gentleman and looking out for her. _y/n_ nodded and Aaron slipped behind her, placing the jacket over her shoulders. His hands brushed over her exposed skin, and _y/n_ felt that familiar spark burn through her anytime she felt Aaron’s hands on her. Those times were few and far between. She looked over at Aaron and decided that tonight she was going to give him a line and see if he took it. If she didn’t seem interested, she’d let her infatuation go and move on. She could be happy not loving Aaron. At least she hoped she could. Hotch moved to her side next to the railing and he asked, “Was Fred trying to ask you out again?” _y/n_ flushed because it was so rare for him to ask her about her personal life. She remembered the first time it had happened she’d nearly dropped her _y/f/c/b_. That first time had been Freddy-related too. That time they both seemed embarrassed to be talking about it. Now _y/n_ was much more comfortable being open with Aaron. She looked at him and replied, “No. Not this time thankfully. I think the third time actually did it. No today he was just asking about the cases the team has been on recently, and then, inexplicably, he started talking about his pet lizard.” Hearing this, Aaron couldn’t help but cringe. _y/n_ chuckled and said, “You know he’s not a bad guy, just not the guy for me. But bless him, he needs to learn to read a room.” Aaron hummed and said, “Well I’m glad he’s ended his crusade.” _y/n_ laughed at his commentary and replied, “You know he’s right about one thing. I still don’t know this city at all. The cases keep me tired enough to not want to explore on my days off. What do you say we skip the party and you show me something worth seeing?” And here was _y/n_’s line. All Aaron had to do was give it a tug. Hotch looked at her with some surprise, like he had when he was half-dazed in the hospital bed. He cleared his throat and said, “Are you sure it’s me you want? Garcia, or even JJ could show you a better time. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind…” _y/n_ could sense that he was deflecting, and said, “No. I want you. You’ve lived here longer and you’ve gotta know the places that aren’t tourist traps. Plus, Garcia is flirting up a storm with that tech down there and JJ only has eyes for Will. I wouldn’t dare break up either of those conversations right now.” After a pause, _y/n_ added, “Come on Hotch. You looked miserable in there. You’re honestly telling me that you want to go back?”

Aaron let out a warm laugh and said, “Alright, I wasn’t particularly enjoying myself. Too much small talk makes me feel like a dog that’s been bred for show. And I never understood why they held this thing after Christmas and between New Year's. That time feels sacred in some unspeakable way.” _y/n_ was grinning and said, “Totally. I know the director said there was some sort of conflict, but that just read like bad code for, ‘Let me take my ski vacation with my family first.’ And don’t mention the playlist in there. Nobody was enjoying that, I swear to god.” Hotch had to stifle a harsh laugh to not sound unbecoming. That was another thing about _y/n_, they synced with each other’s humor. Sometimes he had to look away from her in meetings to avoid bursting out laughing. The fact was a joy and a pain in equal measure. Aaron looked over to her again, and he realized that she was still waiting for an answer. He took a breath to steel himself. Aaron left like it was now or never, and he didn’t want to let _y/n_ go. Not after all they’d been through this year. He did, however, need a moment to think about where exactly to take _y/n_. He hadn’t exactly been on the town himself since the divorce. Hotch slowly said, “I’d be happy to show you around, _y/n_, but would you give me a minute to think about where exactly to take you? I’m, um, particular about places.” _y/n_ nodded and relaxed into the railing. Aaron looked her over again. She looked ravishing in that dress, and it didn’t hurt that she had his jacket on too. He rested his hands on the cool metal and looked out onto the highway. Gently he asked, “What do you think about when you come up here? I used to spend a good deal of time up here too. When I was new to the BAU at least.” _y/n_ looked over him. Pondering the question. Trying to picture him as a green agent under Gideon. Trying to imagine him in his early thirties instead of his late forties. That all felt like a different time. She hadn’t been there then. _y/n_ moved her gaze to the highway and said, “Well most of my time up here is spent far less productively than yours was. I’m sure. In fact, three of the seven times on this roof have been an escape from Freddy. The other four times, I’m sure I was just annoyed, at myself or someone else. It’s a good place to cool off. Shake the cares of the day away.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. Most of his time up here had been spent sitting against the wall and questioning his life choices, but he didn’t verbalize that thought. He didn’t need to as _y/n_ continued, “But sometimes I like to close my eyes and pretend I can see D.C. from the rooftop. The capital or Washinton Mall. I know it’s silly, and I’ve explored that city even less than this one, but that’s why we’re here, aren’t we? To keep people safe. To keep the dream alive for everyone who doesn’t have to see the dark underbelly of this country. It gives me comfort.” Hearing this, Hotch stepped forward and placed a hand on _y/n_’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure why. He replied, “I don’t think that’s silly at all, _y/n_.” Something _y/l/n_ had said had sparked an idea in Hotch. There was a place on the border between D.C. and Virginia that he’d liked a long time ago. Politicians from either side of the aisle would meet there to make deals and broker favors. As a younger man, he had thought it was cool. Aaron looked at _y/n_ and said, “How do you feel about jazz?” _y/n_ nodded yes and said, “I don’t mind it. Improvisation is good for the soul. Gets you out there. Is there dancing?” Aaron tried to remember the intimate club and eventually nodded yes, saying, “I think so. But I wouldn’t trust me with that. I’ve got two left feet.” _y/n_’s laughter cut through the cold night and she said, “It’s alright. Me too most of the time.” Aaron shifted his hand to her lower back as he asked, “This place is too far to walk. Did you drive here?” _y/n_ replied, “No. Em took me. I was planning on taking an Uber back when I was done with my private roof party.” Aaron noticed her eyes slowly blowing out and her breath coming in faster in her chest. Aaron nodded and said, “Okay. Well, we’ll take my car if you're comfortable with it. I can drop you off at your place after?” _y/n_ agreed and said, “Sounds like a plan.”

The pair made a quick stop by Aaron’s office and _y/n_’s desk to grab their things before heading out. Neither made any formal goodbye at the party. Hotch felt oddly free as he stepped out of the field office with _y/n_ by his side. On the drive to the jazz club, he pointed out different areas of the town to _y/n_. He knew he sounded like a dad, but _y/n_ seemed interested in learning more about the area and asked follow-up questions as they cruised down the dark streets. There was no parking in front of the club, so Aaron found some down the road. The club was unassumingly nestled into the facade of a street full of high-end stores. Now it was _y/n_’s turn to point out interesting trends in the window and designers she despised. Aaron got a small tirade about _y/l/f/d_ when they passed that storefront. _y/n_ was sure Hotch had lost interest at that point, but when she looked at him, he seemed engrossed. He looked over at her and said, “Well, I’d have never known that unless you’d told me. Now I’ll have something smart to say when there’s more small talk to be made at parties.” _y/n_ smiled at Aaron. She knew she had her eccentricities, but he took them with such grace and she wondered what she’d done to earn even an hour of this man's time. _y/n_ spared him any other commentary. When they stepped into the small, dark space of the club, Aaron told the matre de that it was just two, and the man led the two toward the back of the space. The head waiter graciously motioned to a small couch near the live band playing soft jazz in the back corner of the room. Aaron let _y/n_ take a seat first, and he followed after her. Shortly after being seated a waiter came and took their orders. Aaron got an old-fashioned, and _y/n_ ordered _y/f/d_. As they waited for their drinks to arrive, _y/n_ asked Aaron, “So, how did you find this place?” Hotch did his best to summarize his first year in the BAU. How unsure he was about the shift in jobs. How Haley had been the one to get him out of the house and office. As Aaron recounted his story, _y/n_ didn’t pull away or, cringe at the mention of the former Mrs. Hotcher. _y/n_ realized as much as anyone how important Haley was to Aaron. He’d loved her for a long time before things had fallen apart. And she’d loved him too. _y/n_ was far less insecure about this fact now. She was ashamed about how she’d felt about Haley at the hospital that one time. Not only was Haley important, but _y/n_ realized that Jack was the zenith of Aaron’s life. And she respected that. Fatherhood seemed far from easy, and add being head of the BAU on top of that? Hell, Aaron made it look easy. So she listened to him open up in a way that he never had in front of her before, and _y/n_ got her small peak behind his work facade. She realized that he was just a man doing his best. Trying to juggle all of the plates at his feet, and somehow that was the most attractive thing possible about Aaron Hotchner that she hadn’t ever noticed before that instant.

Hotch looked at _y/n_ after his long-winded story and expected to see boredom there. Or disappointment at how often he’d brought up Haley or Jack. But he didn’t find it. Only a look of admiration that he couldn’t quite place. And suddenly Hotch wanted to say everything that he’d bottled up over the year and wanted to lean down and kiss _y/n_ on the lips like he had in his dreams. And _y/n_ watched as Aaron shifted in his demeanor. How his eyes were wide again and he seemed to be building to something new. Something yet said or explored between them. The sudden and insistent beeping of Hotch’s phone cut off that moment in an instant. Aaron pulled back from _y/n_ a bit and murmured, “Sorry,” as he accepted the call. After a second, Hotch’s mood changed again, as he replied to the other end of the line. “Is he alright? What’s the matter?” _y/n_ pulled back a bit more, realizing this was a private conversation and she was a bit too close to Aaron for it to be happening like one. His frown and worry lines increased, as he listened to the dialog she couldn’t hear. After a minute he replied, “Yes, I’ll head over right away. You said the doctor was on his way too?... Yeah, yeah. I’ll just be twenty minutes or so… Okay. Tell Jack I’m on my way… Yeah. Bye.” Aaron dropped his hand with this cell in it and looked at _y/n_ with sad eyes. She looked back and him and said, “Is it Jack?” Aaron nodded and replied, “Haley said he has a bad fever, and it’s getting worse. She called a doctor and she thinks I should come over. _y/n_, I’m sorry.” _y/n_ gave him a pat on the arm and said, “Go be with your son, Aaron. There are more important things than me in the world. At least in your world.” Hotch nodded with the same sad eyes. He realized how much of a sacrifice _y/n_ was making for him, how life in the BAU was a whole big load of sacrifice. Aaron stood, and just to show a fraction of how grateful he was for _y/n_’s presence in his life, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was chaste, and he pulled away before he could get ahead of himself.

Aaron was gone before _y/n_ could even fully register what had happened. The bell at the door told of Hotch’s departure, and _y/n_ could have screamed out of desire or despair at how the night had come to a quick conclusion. But she didn’t. _y/n_ knew how important Jack was to Hotch. Everything else but his son was at the periphery of Aaron’s life, and Jack was at the center. As _y/n_ settled back into the loveseat, now alone, she contemplated how yet again any plans or revelations of their feelings had been dashed. But _y/n wasn’t mad about it. _y/n_ had to remind herself that for the half hour, they had been together that night, Aaron had allowed her to see more of himself. And he was, as _y/n_ expected, as good a man as they came. _y/n_ thought, “How often does a girl really get to see a good man?” It was a pleasure, even if it was for just an evening.

The final few days of December passed in a wave of the hand. _y/n_ had asked Aaron if Jack was alright the morning after their night on the town, and he’d said that the fever had broken in the night and that his son was on the mend. Aaron had asked _y/n_ in the same text exchange if she’d gotten home okay after his sudden departure. She had told him that she’d called a Lyft soon after he’d left to get home. And then, before _y/n_ knew it, she was packing her bags for a long weekend at one of Derek’s properties on a lake outside the city limits. She was carpooling with Emily and Garcia. _y/n_ had heard that Morgan’s New Year’s Eve parties were times to remember and she was finally going to experience one for herself. _y/n_ was already excited to be spending time with her friends, but when Emily said, “You know Aaron’s coming too? He apparently called Morgan last minute and asked if there was still an empty bed, _y/n_’s jaw dropped. _y/n_ quickly composed herself and said, “Well the more the merrier.” Em rolled her eyes and said, “The more the merrier my ass, _y/n_. You know he’s just going there for you. When are you going to catch on that he’s in love with you?” Penelope agreed from the backstreet and said, “Honestly. _y/n_. He’s been making googly eyes at you all year. And what was that with him taking you out after the Holiday Party? Do you see Hotchy doing that with anyone else?” _y/n_ sighed exasperated with her friend's encouragement. She half-heartedly said, “Well, he could have been.” this had Garcia and Prentiss cackling and Penelope said, “This is the time, _y/n_. I swear. If it’s not, I’ll pull Hotch aside myself and give him a piece of my mind.” Despite _y/n_’s friends banter, _y/n_ felt reluctant. None of the other times seemed to work out, and she didn’t see how this was going to be any different.

As Morgan’s lake house came into view, _y/n_ tried to let everything go. Whatever happened would happen, and she planned on having fun no matter how the next day and a half went. The trio of women were the second to last to arrive. Spencer joined them a half-hour later. Derek quickly showed everyone to their rooms. It felt like an adult sleepover and an energy charged the air. For the first hour or so the team just relaxed and unpacked. Derek, Rossi, Spencer, and Aaron sat on the leather couches and talked about the year. Their highs and lows. They also debated which case was the most interesting from the year. As the men talked, Emily, _y/n_, JJ, and Garcia all tried on the dresses they had brought for the end of the night. As they were helping with the zippers and hemlines, _y/n_ said, “I’m sorry Will couldn’t come tonight, J.” JJ smiled and said, “Yeah. But I think it’s fine. We’ll be married soon enough and we’ll have the rest of our lives to be together. Tonight feels like the gang is back together in a nostalgic sort of way. You know what I mean?” The other nodded alone and Emily said, “I feel ‘ya JJ. What a year it’s been. But we’re all happy for you know. I think you got the last good guy on the market with Will.” JJ grinned and helped _y/n_ slip into her ‘dress.” The media liaison seemed to glow with a pre-marriage, I’ve-found-the-love-of-my-life aura even four months before her wedding day. And suddenly all the women were dressed, and they all looked at each other and complimented each other. Emily was in a sleek purple pants suit. JJ was in a fitted black dress. Garcia, as always, was wearing a bright orange tulle skirt with a pink top, plus white fingerless gloves. The tech noted, “And I’ve got about ten million little things to put in my hair too!” Lastly, _y/n_ was wearing something far slinkier than her friends. It essentially amounted to a lot of large, shimmery _y/f/v_ sequins held together with tiny metal rings. _y/n_ hadn’t worn it since before turning twenty and she couldn’t remember why she’d bought it. “Maybe for a rave?” She thought. Because the garment was so sheer, she was wearing sensible black underwear and a matching bra underneath, but _y/n_ flushed at the one time she’d gone clubbing without the undergarments beneath. That had been a fun evening.

The compliments made the rounds, and Garcia told _y/n_, “You look drop-dead good in that, _y/n_. The boys won’t know what hit them.” At the mention of “the boys,” _y/n_ looked at the ground and said, “You know I would have picked a different outfit if I’d known Hotch was coming.” The others snickered, and _y/n_ laughed too, saying, “I’m being serious. I’m not trying to look like a slut in front of him. The brief said ‘Fun New Year's attire and this is the funniest, New Years-ist dress I’ve got.” Emily moved forward and gave _y/n_’s shoulder a pat saying, “You’ll be fine, _y/n_. You look glorious. Plus you’re the youngest one here. That means you can get away with wearing something more risque. I’m just shocked you can wear something from that long ago. I’m lucky if I could pull off something from two years ago and it look good, I can’t even think about five or ten.” Prentiss shuddered at the thought, and that got a good laugh out of all of them.

A knock at the closed door, had them all look away from each other. It was Derek saying that he, Aaron, and Rossi were going to take a walk along the path that went around the lake nearby. And if any of them wanted to join them? _y/n_and Em jumped at the chance. The pair quickly changed back into their casual clothes and headed out with the guys. The walk was pleasant and they all just took in the fresh air and saw the trees surrounding the water. Aaron was walking a few steps behind _y/n_ and he contemplated his feelings about her once more. Even he was getting annoyed with himself. He blamed it on being indecisive in the worst possible area of his life, partnership. But he’d decided today was going to be the day. He was going to bite the bullet and ask _y/n_ how he felt about her. Even though he couldn’t picture the words leaving his mouth, he swore to himself that it was going to happen. The walk concluded, and then everyone got some drinks which Aaron happily and skillfully mixed. Then Derek and Rossi made dinner and everyone ate outside around the fire. And by that time it was already ten and the first fireworks were dotting the sky. Aaron and _y/n_ were sitting next to each other. Close enough that he could move his arm just an inch and he would be touching hers. Hotch’s eyes stayed on the sky as he asked, “Do you have any plans for the New Year?” It was too cliched to ask about resolutions, but he did wonder what someone like _y/n_ thought about the future. _y/n_ turned her gaze to him, and replied, “I don’t know. I want my apartment to feel more homey. It’s still giving college vibes if I’m being honest. I’d like to buy some better furniture, like the opposite of the stuff from IKEA. And then there’s helping JJ with the wedding, and then just going out more. Seeing the city like we did after the party.” _y/n_ felt like saying, “I’d like doing that with you,” and also, “Does this make me sound boring?” But _y/n_ couldn’t vocalize either of those thoughts as Gacia stepped out onto the patio and proclaimed, “It’s dress-up time, baby girl!” _y/n_ shook her head and chuckled. Aaron gave her a hand up and watched as she disappeared into the house. _y/n_’s list sounded just up his alley, and he wondered why he’d been putting off his feelings for so long. Why he couldn’t just man up and tell her he loved her? That he was mad about _y/n_. Aaron sighed and walked inside after _y/n_.

It was 11:15 when the girls were all dolled up with their outfits, heels, and makeup. Derek had the TV playing with the countdown to the ball drop on as ambient noise. The champagne was ready to be popped, and the new year was rung in with friends and laughter. Garcia and Derek were both oddly big about watching the ball drop. _y/n_ had interrogated Penelope about this on the way up to Morgan’s house. Garcia had just said, “It’s tradition, and you don’t mess with tradition.” Just as the group of women stepped into the light to be seen for the first time, the power went out. There was a moment of silence and then Derek said, “Really house. You do this to me now?’ That got everyone laughing, and Aaron asked, “Where’s the breaker Morgan? I’ll give it a look.” Derek told him and Hotch stood outside for a second. While Aaron was gone, Penelope and Morgan talked about what they would do about a countdown. Nobody wanted to just look at the clock. That, Morgan had said, “Wasn’t festive at all.” Aaron came back and said, “It’s not good news, the main fuse is fried.” That had Derek thinking and he announced, “Alright, change of plans. There’s a dive bar down the road. If we book it, we can make it there before midnight.” There was little complaint from the group as Morgan and Penelope hustled everyone into two cars and down the street. There was so much excitement that nobody got to see the women’s outfits until they were standing outside the bar. The space was a dive and it was packed with partiers. The walkway up wasn’t paved, so Aaron took _y/n_’s hand with his left, and even though he didn’t need to, he placed his right on her lower back. Again he felt that spark shoot through him. The cool sequins juxtaposed to _y/n_’s warm skin were doing things to him that he didn’t want to think about right now. Or maybe it was the dress that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Either of those was a good option. Inside, the team found a spot to stand and watch as the time ticked down from 11:55 to midnight. Derek joked and said, “Alright, who’s kissing who when it’s time?” Emily raised a hand and teasingly said, “I volunteer for you, Morgan.” The team laughed and then started counting down. Everyone except Hotch, who was standing a bit farther back. _y/n_ sighed, knowing he was never a big fan of crowds. She stepped close to him. Even as Aaron sought a moment of reprieve, both _y/n_ still had to stand almost body to body to avoid bumping into anyone. As “THREE, TWO, ONE” were unanimously chanted in the tight space, _y/n_ was going to try and pick up where their conversation had stopped earlier in the night. To see if Aaron had any plans going into the New Year. But she didn’t get the chance to as the call of “Happy New Year!” Hotch bent down and pressed his lips to hers.

Aaron had meant for it to be a little peck. Just something to ring in the new year with. But _y/n_ only stood in shock for a moment before she realized what was happening, and she’d waited so god damn long for this very moment that she quickly leaned into it, pressing her body to Aaron’s as her arms wrapped around him. Aaron reciprocated in kind and placed one of his hands on her hip and the other on the crown of _y/n_’s head. Holding them together like he might fall apart if he let her go. Aaron's lips were slightly chapped and his cologne, which _y/n_ knew well, crept over her like a sunray. As soon, as they’d started, they didn’t want to stop. Then it dawned on both of them, like they hadn’t been yearning for the other for over a year, that they didn’t have to stop. So they didn’t. Not until they had to pull away panting for air. And once they’d gotten breath back in them, they came together again. This time it was more cautious. More subdued as Aaron began to memorize the shape of _y/n_’s soft mouth pressed against his own, _y/n_ made a small contented sound that only he could hear and smiled as she placed her hands on his chest. _y/n_ his body in a way that indicated an intimacy that had always been there between them. The rest of the team watched them with Garcia saying, “About time. My god, I thought I was going to have to lock them in a closet together later tonight.” Rossi joked and said, “Well, there’s still time to do that later,” as he came back with a handful of champagne flutes. Dave handed one to each member of the team and then walked a pace over to _y/n_ and Aaron. Hotch was looking into _y/n_’s eyes but stopped when he noticed his friend. Rossi smiled and said, “Alright you kids. How about you take a moment and join us for a toast?” _y/n_ flushed, but nodded taking a glass from Rossi. Aaron chuckled and got a glass himself. He never let his hand lose contact with _y/n_’s side as all three walked back to the table. Rossi gave Aaron a strong pat on the shoulder as they moved to the group and winked at _y/n_, which only made her flush further. Hotch didn’t even care as the whole team's little “oohs and ahhs” sounded at their return. Aaron realized that scrutiny or affection didn’t feel so bad with _y/n_’s hand in his. He realized with full clarity that she’d been there all along, and he’d just not moved his hand to meet hers. He’d tell her he was sorry for that later. For stringing her on so long. He’d tell her he loved her more times than he could count too. But for now, as everyone lifted their glasses saying “Happy New Year!” The future never looked brighter.

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silurisanguine · 5 months

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15 lines of Dialogue game

As ive been away for the weekend, not sure if anyone tagged me with this but saw it open tag so here we go. Tagging @vorchagirl @despicablediet and anyone who'd like to do it! 15 Lines of Dialogue Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well! Since i've written the most with Seren Jones, I shall pick her for this!

1 -"Maybe I am, but there isn’t anything left in this universe worth staying for. Whatever is in the next universe has to be better than this one Barrett, it has to. I can't bare to stay here any more, not without him, not when I could have done it so differently."

2 - "Cora… she was there, saw her dad die…She hated me, blamed me for not saving him. After the funeral, Lillian took her and that was the last I ever saw that wonderful twelve year old. I realised then I had no reason to stay in my universe as everything i loved had been taken from me. I hoped maybe another would give me a second chance. To fix things..to try again…

…That’s why I do this.”

3 - "I came here the first time with no preconception of what I’d find. I was in awe at the location, just as you are now. But what I learned here has guided my hand in relation to how I see the Artifacts, how I see Unity and the Starborn. Anyone who wants to complete the Artifact collection, needs to know the full story for themselves.”

4- "Now you see how dangerous this place is, and this is just the start. The Starborn Guardians here have lost all empathy, all compassion, their humanity in pursuit of their cause. They have nothing left in their existence except to stop anyone else reaching the Temple. …I sometimes wonder what is the point of their existence before I wipe them out of it for good.”

5 -”You washed them clean. I can say one good thing about Lillian in that she gave you the chance to do that. You’re not the same man, Sam.”

6 -”They makes me smile every time I come back here. But I’m not entirely alone, the fish there get a view unlike any other.” She pointed to the couple of little fish swimming in their tanks, sitting right at the edge of the massive view screen. “If you don’t mind taking care of them for me, they’ve been a good little crew, never complained once.”

7 - "I've never met you before. Until today I'd never met a single pirate here." That was the truth, if a little stretched Seren thought.

8 -"All this, this universe is a nightmare. I've been to so many variations and… You… everyone here is so different, so wrong. It’s like Unity decided to show me the worst outcome possible just to make me appreciate who I’d - what I’d lost.”

9 -"Neat trick, have to remember that next time I'm in a hell-hole universe."

10 -"Sorry, Sam, just picturing you over Vlad’s head brought on images of you in ballet tights and…yeah, sorry, I have too much imagination.”

11 - "Yes, justice, Delgado. See that’s behind most things I do now. In this case justice for those your fucking coloured coded Spacers have harmed- have murdered. It’s interesting really how far I got here without anyone realising who I really am... I wondered why no one noticed the SIN of my ship. Even Jess surprisingly. It was a gamble using it of course…But no one ever clocked that I was flying the Razorleaf."

12- “Until I knew for sure you felt the same way I did, I wasn’t sure how to really act around you. But now I know, expect more of this, Sam Coe.”

13 - “You know I would! I mean she called me darlin, you know that makes me melt.”

14 - "…He always said he was bad with words, yet he could say things that were like love poetry to me, that would dazzle me. He was so open with his feelings when he trusted you. Funny, absurd sometimes and he cared deeply and loved passionately. He was an amazing father and I-"

15 - "I've no idea. Being Starborn didn't exactly come with a manual."

#Seren Jones #15 lines of dialogue #Siluri writes #The Coemancer Crew #Starfield OC

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jackrrabbit · 3 years

Text

Adversary /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You make a deal with the devil to save your life, but it turns out Overhaul’s not interested in your soul.

A/N: Remember when I said I was going to do a fantasy collab and then dipped for like 9 months? Hahaha…anyway…

@pleasantanathema @ present-mel @shadowworks—if it’s not too late, here’s my part for the Pleasant & Strider Fantasy AU Writing Collab from a million years ago. Go check out the masterlist and gorge yourself on these amazing pieces!!

Tags/Warnings: dubcon, demon fuckery & occult things, big heresy/sacrilege/perversion of religion, sex in a church ft. Catholic sex guilt, other than that it’s not that bad lol, inexperienced reader, mild degradation, shameless camp and demon-fucking clichés, Overhaul calls you “little girl” 👉👈

He doesn’t look like a demon.

Not that you really know what demons are supposed to look like. But…red skin, right? Fangs and claws and swirling masses of bad energy. Maybe cloven hooves for feet. Yes, that’s the Disney version—but even if you didn’t expect a cartoon personification of evil, you didn’t expect this.

He looks like a doctor, you think. Lab coat hanging open, surgery mask pushed down under his jaw, stethoscope draped over his shoulders. No, he’s a little young to really look like a doctor…an intern, you amend, shifting back in your hospital bed. He looks like he fits right in here, not a hair out of place. Except for, you know, the polished black horns curling out of the sides of his skull.

Overhaul. It was written in the book. That’s the only thing you have to call him in your head.

He’s standing in the center of the sigil you drew at the foot of your bed before midnight, surveying the room critically without meeting your gaze. He looks annoyed—that’s not a good sign, is it?—but then again, of course he’s annoyed. You’d be annoyed too if you got summoned out of your cozy hell dimension in the middle of the night. According to the book, you’re lucky he even showed up…although ‘lucky’ isn’t really how you’d describe yourself most days.

“So,” Overhaul says after a long moment of silence in which you question every choice you’ve made in your relatively short life. “You’re dying.”

You nod.

“And you don’t want to be.”

You nod again, wondering if you’re supposed to be contributing more to this conversation. It’s a bit difficult when your mouth is so dry it feels like you’ve been eating dirt, but you suppose being in the presence of an unholy servant of Satan will do that to a person.

“Fine.” He sighs, frowns, and then finally lowers his gaze onto yours—and you shiver.

Those eyes. No human has eyes like that.

“Make me an offer,” Overhaul tells you, and through his open mouth you catch a flash of sharp white teeth.

Okay. Okay. The chirping of the heart monitor speeds up (as if it weren’t obvious enough that you’re terrified) and you fold your knees up to your chest and fidget with your ring and think. He’s giving you a chance to establish parameters. You’re supposed to start with his end of the deal, the thing you want from him. That’s what it said to do in the grimoire, aka the 19th century demonology volume your creepy cousin brought back from her pagan anthropology research trip in rural France. The one you keep hidden under your bed because your mother would burn it if she knew you were reading about summoning demons.

Offer nothing to a hell creature without first telling him your price. You know the words by heart, both the winding calligraphy of the original French from the grimoire and the rushed scrawl of the English translation your cousin left for you in sheets of lined paper layered between the pages of the book for you to read. Really, this is her fault. She was the one who slipped you the book, who told you that it worked, who snuck you the ingredients for the summoning. She was the one who left a bookmark at the chapter on this particular demon, one that specializes in ‘Contrat pour Remédier au Déséquilibre des Quatre Humeurs’, which she said meant a contract to cure any illness. Even his ‘name’ is translated in her hand, practically an afterthought in the margins of the page.

‘Le Malin qui Ravage et Rebâtit’— Overhaul?

You looked up the literal meaning of this phrase on your own. It did not reassure you.

“Girl.” His voice is cold, irate. Your eyes snap back up to his and it feels like that burning gaze is laser-beaming into your skull. “Do not test me. My time is limited…as is yours.”

You swallow. “How long do I have left?”

“Less than a single human year,” he tells you without a trace of sympathy. “Seven months, twelve days, three hours. Or so. You’ll be too exhausted to leave this bed in four months, and the pain will become intolerable in six… By the end, you’ll wish—“

“Stop,” you breathe out. The heart monitor is beeping wildly and you squeeze your knees into your chest, trying to calm down your breathing. “Stop, I—I want to live.”

“Of course you do.” Overhaul’s lip curls. “How very predictable.”

Be specific, you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the stifling disapproval from the man—the demon—in front of you. Something about him (maybe how clean-cut he looks, maybe the indisputable authority in his demeanor) makes you want to impress him. But you didn’t turn your back on your religion—you didn’t draw pagan symbols on the floor in chalk, fill silver cups with various questionable substances (including your own virgin blood), and turn the crucifix your mother hung over your bed upside-down so you could let a demon make you feel guilty for wanting to survive. “I want to be cured. I’m okay with whatever natural death I have instead when I’m older, I just don’t want to die of this illness. I want you to make me healthy.”

“Simple enough. What else?”

‘Simple’? Your heart surges with something you’ve felt very little of since your initial diagnosis—hope. “T-That’s it. Just the cure.”

Overhaul glares at you. “Humans… Every vice in the world available to you, and you limit yourselves to the basest priority of survival.”

“But you can do it? You can cure me?” you persist.

Overhaul steps forward (quiet, so quiet you wonder if he really moved) and holds a hand out to you past the foot of your bed—you hesitate, and a second later you can see the muscles in his hand flex, stretching the latex of his plastic gloves tight over his knuckles.

Just do it. You give him your hand. Carefully. Like you’re scared the contact will burn you. It doesn’t (although his skin feels warmer than yours), but after a moment his grip tightens, sliding down past your hand to circle the fragile bones of your wrist and squeeze.

“Ow?” You wince.

The demon’s eyes flicker closed for a second, lips moving silently like he’s talking to himself—and then he drops your hand unceremoniously back onto your lap. “You could be cured before the sun rises this morning. I doubt your stay in the hospital will extend past the end of the week.”

He sounds bored, voice as flat and passionless as it was earlier, but your heart is soaring. Cured. You’ve lived with this illness for so many years, you can’t remember the last time someone told you you could be cured. And getting out of the hospital that soon? You can just imagine taking down all the decorations from the walls of your room here and setting them up in your old bedroom at home. You could see friends on the weekend and not take an oxygen bag, you could get a job or—or apply to college, you could have a life—

“That is…assuming you have something to offer me in exchange for the cure.”

Your stomach drops. You’d almost forgotten about the other half of the deal.

“Don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing.” Overhaul steps back, and the orange light of the candles you set sends strange shadows over his arrogant face. The fires look brighter now, and you find yourself tracing the lines of those shining black horns. In an odd way, they look natural—so organically framing his temples that you can’t imagine him without them.

“N-No, of course not. I have some money—I mean, my mom has some, and I can get it for you…” Which is half the truth. If you know anything, it’s that your mother’s spent most of her savings on your treatment and care. You probably have more debt than you have money in the bank right now—you’d try to get rid of that, too, if you hadn’t read in the book how important it is to keep your request as simple and straightforward as possible.

…Although it’s apparently not enough. Overhaul’s eyes narrow, molten gold irises carved into slits. “Even if I had a use for human money, do you really believe your life is worth so little?”

“No—no,” you say quickly. “I just thought—in case you were interested—”

The air crackles with energy, the candle flames spark bright blood-red, and the hair on your arms stands straight up. “I am not.”

“Okay! I get it.” You wave your hands back and forth, pulling your IV line from side to side with the motion. The book was very clear about staying calm and rational while you work out the terms of the deal, but that’s easier said than done when you have a real live (live?) hell creature in front of you. You always knew this was going to be the hard part—all the stories say there’s only one thing that a demon would be interested in, and no matter how inviting the prospect of living past this illness is, you know you’d rather die than sell your immortal soul to the devil. “I’ll give you anything except my soul! And—and don’t hurt anyone I care about, or— just don’t hurt anyone, okay? Other than that, if there’s anything I can give you, I will.”

Overhaul’s lip curls, baring a thin strip of those unnaturally sharp canines. “And is your soul really so valuable?”

This throws you for a loop. Isn’t that the standard deal? A soul for a wish? That’s how it’s supposed to work—at least in this twisted version of reality where you can summon a demon to perform unholy miracles for you. But if you think about it, it doesn’t really make sense, does it? Why would your soul be valuable to him? You can’t form an argument, especially since you’re not willing to barter it away in the first place.

Your mouth is pursed open as you search for a response, but Overhaul doesn’t seem willing to wait. A gloved hand wraps its way around the railing at the side of your bed, and he leans in closer. “Little girl…what makes you think you possess anything I desire?”

Little girl. You’re not a little girl, you’re a grown woman—and yet there’s no untruth in the statement. In front of him you feel insignificant, immature, weak. You have nothing real to offer, and something tells you that you’re not going to get rid of the demon you summoned without a sacrifice you’re not willing to make.

You twist your ring around your finger—the nervous habit you haven’t bothered to break because you’ve always had more important things to worry about—and the glint of silver in the candlelight must catch Overhaul’s eye because before you even notice him moving, your delicate hand is trapped in his larger one to give him a better view of the tiny piece of jewelry. “What is this?”

“It’s—um, a ring. A purity ring.” Has he never seen one before? Well…actually, that makes sense.

Overhaul turns your hand over in his without touching the band of silver. He’s looking at it closely, inspecting the lovingly engraved cross in the design and the inscription on the other side. “Matthew 5:8,” he reads out.

“…Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” you recite cautiously. It feels wrong to speak the words in front of him, but somehow you can’t help yourself.

Overhaul’s hand doesn’t leave yours. “This ring is important to you.”

“It’s a symbol of a—a promise I made to God. To save myself for my future husband.”

“To ‘save yourself’? To save what?”

You can’t believe you’re explaining this to a literal demon. You close your eyes and inhale slowly and taste smoke. “My…virginity. It’s a promise that I won’t have sex until I enter into a biblical marriage.”

At this, Overhaul is quiet. You give him a moment to answer, half expecting him to question why you think God cares about your sexual status (honestly, you’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered this yourself), but he stays quiet until you peek up at him to try and gauge the look on his coldly handsome face.

He’s still staring at the ring. He hasn’t touched it—maybe he can’t, because of the cross?—and through the latex, his skin feels hotter than a human’s is supposed to be.

“Is there…” you start, but you trail off when you realize you have nothing to ask. You give a little tug to try and take your hand away and you’re surprised when your wrist actually slides out of his grip to fall back on the nest of sheets in your lap. You didn’t think he’d let you go so easily.

Overhaul turns his head to the side, eyes drilling into you so you feel like you should lower your gaze. The candlelight flickers in strange shadows over his horns. “This will do,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“In exchange for your cure.” The demon taps his own left ring finger, the place where the purity ring sits on your hand, and your heart soars. He actually wants that? It’s just a simple silver band, not worth much, but you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it has some special significance because of the religious connotation. Your mother will be angry you’ve lost it, but you’re happy to cope with that if it means living to actually get married!

“Yes!” you blurt out before he has a chance to rethink his offer. Sure, you’ll miss the purity ring—you’ve had it since you were a kid, after all—but there’s no question you’re getting the better end of this deal. At least in your opinion.

Something flashes through his yellow eyes, something you don’t even want to try and identify. “The contract, then.”

You barely have time to notice that his voice has gentled, that it’s practically silken in comparison to before, when the candlelight flickers again and suddenly the contract is everywhere. Everywhere. Writing appears on every surface in the room, covering the walls, stretching over the ceiling, coiling around the sides of the hospital equipment and decorating your bedsheets until you and Overhaul are the only untouched surfaces in sight. The characters are inscribed in red, dark red like—don’t think about that, you tell yourself squeamishly. You can make out some of the letters, even a word here or there—French, you recognize, mixed with what looks like Latin and interspersed with what you can only guess are runes.

“I can’t read this,” you tell him, fidgeting with your ring for what you now realize will be the last time.

“I only need your name,” he purrs, and then you feel a fragile weight in your hand: a feather, pearl-black and glossy and too large to belong to any bird you can think of, its angled tip glistening with wet ink. There’s an empty space in the writing before you, and Overhaul’s gloved hand comes to yours again to guide you into place.

This feels wrong…then again, of course it does. Even if you’re getting off relatively easy and just losing your ring rather than your soul, you’re still making a deal with a demon. You sign your name, forcing yourself to think about the future you have ahead of you rather than a disapproving white-bearded caricature of The Man Upstairs wagging his finger at you for haggling with a literal servant of Satan. People have done worse things to survive, haven’t they? It’s just a ring.

You set the feather down and Overhaul sighs, thick black eyelashes obscuring his intense gaze for a moment—and then the contract is gone, leaving your hospital room as blank and sterile as it’s supposed to be (well, aside from the candles and all the other ritual stuff you threw together to summon a demon in the first place).

“Are you going to cure—heal me now?” you ask.

“…Patience, little girl.” He’s pulling his glove off, peeling it down his fingers to bare the pale skin of his hand. You catch your breath and wonder what this is going to feel like, and then the tips of his fingers meet your cheek and—

you stop breathing.

It doesn’t hurt.

Or if it does, you don’t remember the pain a second later when breath floods back into your lungs. What you do feel is energy. Strength in your muscles, blood pumping through your veins, every inhale and exhale as light as a bird and freer. You feel healthy. You’re surprised you even remember what health feels like but you do: it’s like you’ve only been half alive, and now life is surging into you and through you and around you, bubbling up in your core like a spring overflowing. You blink rapidly, thinking you might cry from the sheer pleasure of it, but when you open your mouth it’s laughter that comes out. You’re healthy. You’re alive. You barely notice the IV line literally falling off of your skin because the hole where it entered your vein is sealed shut and healed perfectly.

No more needles. No more hospitals. Even without all the monitors beeping out your heart rate and measuring your vitals, there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind that you’re cured.

“Thank you!” you laugh, looking up at Overhaul and for the first time, not caring that he’s evil incarnate. “I feel—I’m okay! It worked!”

“Of course it did.” His expression is inscrutable, but he lets you have a few moments to enjoy your newfound health.

You roll your shoulders back, flex each muscle you can isolate one by one to test, make fists with your fingers and then run them over your hair, which is already thicker and shinier than it was a moment ago. Your body thrums with energy—you want to run, to feel the ground against your bare feet and the cold night air on your face, and you think you could do it! Your legs are already swinging over the side of your cot, ready to run barefoot out of the hospital if that’s what it takes, but before you can stand up Overhaul’s pushing you back down onto the bed.

“Have you forgotten your end of the bargain already?”

Honestly you did forget, but only for a second, only because you were so excited to just be outside again. “Oh, yeah. Of course.” Your hand goes to your left ring finger, ready to slip the ring off and hand it over, but Overhaul shakes his head.

“Not here.”

“What—?”

You’re falling. Your hospital room is disappearing, the image of your walls and your window and your bed disintegrating into yawning black, and you’re falling through it into nothing, into emptiness, and Overhaul’s still-bare hand in yours is the only anchor you have so you clutch onto it and squeeze your eyes shut. You want to scream—that’s the sane thing to do when you’re falling through miles and miles of empty space, right?—but when you open your throat the sound is swallowed up just like the light was…

Overhaul’s hand burns into yours, an improbable lifeline that you pull closer more out of terror than conscious thought. The slick, empty air rushes around you and you think I am going to die like this and then, incredibly, as soon as you’ve accepted your imminent demise, you feel your back mold onto a chilled, flat surface, vertebra by vertebra up to the back of your head, as if you’ve been lain down onto it.

Your heart thuds in your ears and you brace for an impact because your body hasn’t quite accepted yet that it’s not falling anymore—but at the same time, you know you’re lying down on something. You pry your fingers away from their vice-grip on Overhaul’s arm and feel around blindly for what’s underneath you, and when it seems reasonably tangible you let yourself open your eyes.

Way above, vaulted dozens of feet over your head, is a ceiling studded with gilt-edged frescoes and stained glass. It’s raining (even though it wasn’t in the hospital, you think) but through the massive panes of colored glass there’s enough oily blue light to make out that you’re in a church.

You’re in a church, with a demon. Isn’t that against the rules?

You sit up stiffly and look over at Overhaul, who’s standing at your side and looking down at you…which is how you realize the soft, cold surface you’ve been deposited onto is the blanket on top of the altar in the sanctuary. “Where...did you take me?”

“You should know this place.”

And you do, when you look around. It’s empty now and you’ve never been here at night, but this is a church your mother would bring you to when you were little, back before the disease got so bad you couldn’t risk traveling to it anymore. This is where you took your purity vow…the ring feels heavy on your hand. “Why—why—“

“I can’t stand human hospitals. Filthy places… How that reek of illness and death doesn’t bother your kind, I’ll never understand.” Overhaul pulls his latex glove back on. He’s dressed differently now, no longer impersonating a doctor—black shirt, black pants, and a…bird mask in red leather and gold. So are you, as a matter of fact. Instead of your hospital gown, you’re in a gauzy white dress that’s already been pushed up to pool around the tops of your thighs.

The slip is too thin for the cold, and you can feel your nipples standing up under the cloth so you fold your arms over your chest and hug yourself. “Why did you take me here?” The sound of your voice echoes off the walls eerily and you wish you hadn’t spoken so loudly. The reflection of your words sounds girlish, nervous.

“I told you. Your side of our contract.” Even in this dark, the angular features of his face are clearly concentrating—on you. “Are you already having second thoughts? Such a fickle little thing…”

“You mean the ring?” You reach for it again, ready to tear it off and throw it at him if that’s what it takes to see your deal through, but Overhaul snatches your hand away, pinning it above you.

“Not the ring,” he says. “The promise.”

The…promise?

A chill makes its way down your spine despite the heat radiating off the demon’s body and onto yours. “I don’t understand.”

“The promise,” Overhaul repeats—and you hear a sound almost like wings flapping and then he’s on the altar with you, knees straddling your hips as a single hand holds both your wrists above your head. “To remain a virgin until marriage. Your promise to God.”

A streak of lightning cracks down on the other side of the stained glass window behind the altar, illuminating the room briefly in spectacular pits of red and orange and yellow…and then it’s dark again, and the only color you can make out is the gold in Overhaul’s eyes.

“I’m going to break it,” he murmurs, lowering his head toward your ear right as the answering thunder rolls through the sanctuary, up through the altar, up into you.

///

Méfiez-vous de son piège, the grimoire said. Beware of the catch.

Of course it wasn’t just a ring.

Overhaul’s fingers are in—inside you, his middle and ring finger pumping through the length of your cunt like they belong there, like you were made to be touched this way. A mixture of your juices and your own spit cling to the latex because he made you suck his fingers before he put them in you and he hasn’t bothered to take his gloves off—not that you asked. You’ve been too busy biting your lip to try and muffle the moans that he keeps forcing out of you. He’s bracing himself on top of you with one hand and fingering you with the other, so your own hands are free to push into your eyes and hide your face…until he yanks your arm back and stops.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes are screwed shut and you shake your head back and forth, the movement shuddering your whole body right down to your pussy wrapped around Overhaul’s fingers. He slows the movement and kneels back, pushing one of your thighs up into your chest as he does it.

“Look at me.”

And you’re not sure whether it’s some unearthly power he has over you or the plain old deterioration of your willpower, but you can’t refuse him. You crack your eyes open and he’s glaring down at you, skin pale as ice in the blue light. Once he’s satisfied that you’re watching, the demon leans back in to fuck your cunt with his fingers, slowly at first and then quicker when he hits something inside of you—a spot, a place on the inner wall of your pussy that makes you feel like you’ve been shocked— heat blooms through you like blood in water and you gasp and he curls his fingers up to pet over that spot again.

“Wait—wait, that’s—it feels—weird!” You’ve never felt like this before. You’re not supposed to feel like this, it’s wrong.

“I understand you’ve never touched yourself, but don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Overhaul says, voice as indifferent and calm as ever even though your cunt is dripping clear sticky liquid over the plastic of his glove.

He pushes back in and grinds his palm over the little button on the top of your pussy—your clit?—and you want to scream. “No, I—I don’t—nnhh...”

Do you like it? The demon’s body is so hot next to yours, like he’s running a fever except you’re the one going out of your mind… You’ve heard metaphors for sexual pleasure before (that it’s like having something to drink when you’re dying of thirst; or that it’s the ultimate act of intimacy, love in physical form) but all of that’s a fucking lie. There’s nothing to compare it to, no reference that makes sense, because it doesn’t make sense—you don’t even want him to keep going, do you? You’re only doing this because you signed your name on a devil’s contract, because you don’t want to die and there’s no alternative…but that doesn’t explain why you feel so warm from the inside out, why you’re squirming and your hips are rocking involuntarily no matter how much you try to keep still. This isn’t right. You feel like you’ve been lied to.

A good girl wouldn’t like this.

Overhaul isn’t going to let you close your eyes, so you don’t—but the sounds coming out of your mouth are so…indecent (and how can you think these things about yourself? the word feels like someone else is saying it when you hear it in your head) that your hand is drifting up to your mouth before you can stop yourself, trying to stifle all of it…

“Let your voice out. I want you to hear yourself moan.”

Long fingers slide their way out of your pussy and then move up to rub quick little circles around your clit and you moan, like a whore, like a girl getting her cunt rubbed by a demon— “Oh, uhhhn—something, it’s—coming—“ There’s something building up in your core—a peak, a climax, something that makes you fist your hands in the nightgown he put you in (so tight you’re surprised the thin fabric hasn’t torn) and tilt your hips up into him, begging without words because you don’t have any to express what your body is asking for…

But he doesn’t give it to you. Overhaul takes his hand away from your pussy and the shock of the cool air after his too-hot touch is almost enough to send you over that edge—almost. Not quite. And without it, you’re left shivering and quaking, thighs twitching as your baser instincts beg you to just put your hand between your legs for once and hump your fingers to completion if the demon won’t do it.

You’re not going to risk that, though. Not when Overhaul’s dragging your body closer, bunching up the blanket on the altar under your spine, so your pelvis is angled to his… He’s already shirtless and you hear him unzipping his pants but you can’t bring yourself to actually look at him, even when you feel something hard and hot nudging up against your inner thigh and then aligning to your sticky wet slit.

“This will hurt a bit, but I want you to look,” he says, and you don’t even understand at first until you make yourself feel it—his cock, pushing up against your tight cunt to finish this, this perversion of what your first time was supposed to be…

And what was it supposed to be? Roses and candles and soft kisses? A nameless, faceless husband unzipping your wedding dress and making love to you with the lights off? The way the demon touches you should be cruel in comparison but it isn’t, it’s lighting fires under your skin and turning your brains to mush, so how is your body supposed to tell the difference?

It’ll hurt, you know that, you’ve heard enough about sex to know that it always hurts the first time for girls…women. It was already a stretch to fit his fingers in your virgin pussy, so of course his cock is going to hurt. You turn your head toward the window at your side and try on look out at the rain drawing rivulets like veins over the glass, something to focus on instead of him.

“I said look,” the demon hisses, and his hips push forward a bit and you bite off a whimper of pain. “Watch me take your virginity…look at your tight little cunt swallowing me up just like it was made to.”

“N-No—“ you whine, even though it’s not like you can ignore it. “Don’t make me, don’t make me look, I can’t—“

“Then look at me.”

It’s what he wants, some kind of wicked satisfaction he gets off on, but you’re lucky enough to even get an option so you choose that one, shifting your gaze up into his face instead of the place where his cock is pressing deeper and deeper inside you. Overhaul’s eyes are half-lidded and it’s hard to tell from behind the mask but the look on his face is…pleasure? No, that would be too human. Restraint, at least. He could just thrust up into your body in one stroke, but he wants you to feel it for some reason.

Maybe because it’s a worse betrayal of your chastity if you want to get fucked.

Lucky for you, though, you can barely feel anything aside from the pain. The heat you felt building earlier is draining out of you even as Overhaul tilts deeper, layering his chest over yours. You’re almost grateful for the modest barrier the dress provides between your torso and the solid muscle of his abdomen. His cock in your pussy feels like it’s too big too deep too much and it’s the first time you’ve felt like your body wasn’t created specifically for this purpose so you hold it tight.

“Does it hurt?”

A second of clarity makes you want to snarl (of course it fucking hurts, I’m losing my virginity to a demon I summoned from hell) and you dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from saying it out loud. Overhaul pulls out a fraction of an inch and then pushes back in and you feel like the breath’s being pushed out of your lungs. “Yes! Yes, it—it hurts—“

“I can make you enjoy it…for a price,” he sighs, settling into a slow rocking motion of his hips pushing into yours.

And you want to, every sore muscle in your cunt is telling you to give in and give up, give him what he wants so you can enjoy it like he says—but you’d rather hate every second of this than make another deal. You shake your head quickly and because you’re still too afraid to look away from him, you don’t miss the look of surprise that flits across his face before he tamps it down. “I don’t—I don’t want to—like it,” you gasp out between thrusts. “It’s better if—if it h-hurts…”

This time it’s obvious—his eyes really do widen, and you feel some petty triumph at having caught him off guard like this. Who’s predictable now? you think—and then he’s lifting one hand off the altar at the side of your head and tugging his glove off with his teeth, and you don’t even have time to be afraid of what he’s going to do to you because it’s too late, his bare fingers are already stroking over your mound and onto your core, massaging into the flesh of your stomach so he can feel his own cock sliding in and out of you—

and it doesn’t hurt anymore?

You only have a second to try and understand—he cured you, he healed the pain from your first time just like he healed your illness?—before he hooks his grip under your thigh and folds your legs into your chest so he can fuck into you harder than before. His cock slaps into your pussy and you can hear it, hear how wet your filthy little cunt is, smeared through with your juices. It’s sick—the sound of skin against skin, and the moaning you can’t hold back, you sound like a woman in a porno and you wish the pain would come back just so you could keep hating what he’s doing to you. “What—what did you do—“

The demon ignores you. “It feels good, doesn’t it.”

“Nn—“ It’s deeper like this…deeper and rougher and you can feel it. Now that the pain’s been reduced to the dull ache of a stretched muscle, you can feel everything—his cock sliding against that same spot in your cunt that makes you want to squeal, the friction of his body moving against your clit, all of it, everything you wanted to block out— he pumps into you and you hear your breath sobbing out a moan a second out of rhythm, the sounds of you bouncing on demon cock echoing over the walls. “Please—ah, ahhh…”

“‘Please?’ Are you begging—me, little girl?” Overhaul pushes your thigh up and drags his cock through you, excruciatingly slow, forcing you to feel the thick head slide over every gummy wall in your slick pussy.

You shake your head, mewl, try to force your hips to stop rocking back into his and grinding your clit against him. But you can’t. You’re a—you were a virgin, for fuck’s sake! Overhaul’s immortal. Probably thousands of years of experience on how to make you feel like you want this, like you’re only alive in the places he touches you… You’re at his mercy, if he has any. You never stood a chance.

“Then are you begging your god?” His body lowers directly onto yours and like you’re being controlled by puppet strings your arms fold around him and rake your fingernails uselessly into the smooth skin of his back. You can feel the vibration of his mirthless laughter through his chest. “It must hurt terribly…to know he isn’t listening.”

“Don’t—stop, please,” you sob. “Don’t say—don’t stop—please!”

“Listen to yourself, girl—“ Overhaul’s breath is faster now, but you don’t have time to question it because you feel your peak coming again, the tension rising up through your cunt and your abdomen, harsher and crueler than when his fingers were in you but you want it just as much. More. “Has he ever answered your prayers? Has he...ahh, fuck—who’s the one giving you what you need?”

“No— please, please just let me let me, please—“ You’re talking nonsense now, begging for the release—at least then it’ll be over, and you need it, you need it so badly you feel your muscles locking up, cramping, your ankles crossing each other behind Overhaul’s back.

“Good girl,” the demon breathes, and then he lifts off you so he’s kneeling upright with the two of you still connected, his thick, heavy cock still speared in your pussy, and his fingers come down again to rub at your clit. Everything’s so wet you can hear the motion of his fingers slicking themselves through your juices, sliding up and down the little button over and over and it feels so good that a tiny part of you almost wants to drag it out, to savor it, but the rest of your body is going to die, is going to go crazy if the demon doesn’t let you cum right now, right now, right now!

And he does. Praise the Lord. The pads of Overhaul’s fingers pass over your clit one last time and your head rolls back, your throat moves but you can’t even make a sound, your legs shake and you cum.

You didn’t know it was like this.

Your cunt squeezes down on his cock, throbbing and pulsing and your toes literally curl (you didn’t think that was a real thing!) and your vision goes black for a moment and—oh fuck oh fuck i want this i want more how is it possible that i’ve never felt like this—you understand, more intimately than ever, why sex is wrong:

because nothing that makes you feel this good could possibly come without a cost, could it?

///

It must take longer than you thought for you to come back to your senses, because when you regain awareness of your body you’re in your hospital bed. You’re clean, too, and you wonder for a second if Overhaul bothered to clean you up? Or no…he probably just snapped his fingers and transported you back to your room. You’re not really sure how it works.

What you are sure of, however, is that you just got fucked by a demon. You’re sore in places that you didn’t know it was possible to be sore, and there are already bruises forming on the flesh of your thighs from how tight he was holding you. You don’t really have time to inspect these, though, because apparently your…ordeal (if you can call it that) isn’t over.

Overhaul’s still here.

He’s facing the hints of sunrise through the east window, dressed again in the immaculate lab coat and surgeon’s mask. “You’re awake,” he says without looking at you.

You nod hesitantly. You’re not really sure what the protocol is in this situation, but at least you’ve finally held up your side of the contract, right? And so has he. Despite having been up all night doing sinful things, you’re still itching to get out of this bed and test the limits of your healthy body. “You’re…going to leave, right?”

“Yes—”

At that, you sigh in relief and settle back into your starched bedsheets.

“But there’s one more thing you owe me.”

“Goddamnit,” you swear for the very first time in your life. After what you just did, taking the Lord’s name in vain seems like a relatively minor sin.

Overhaul’s mildly irritated expression doesn’t change, but he holds his hand out to you, palm up, the way you imagine someone would if they were helping you out of a car or requesting a dance at an old-fashioned ball. And really, you want all of this to be over—you want to get out of this hospital, you want to taste what the air outside is like, you want to distract yourself from what you just gave up in exchange for a future. At this point you’re just going to have to hope God isn’t as picky about the whole premarital sex thing as you grew up believing.

So you put your hand in Overhaul’s.

Slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid it’ll burn him, he slides your purity ring down your finger and balances it in the palm of his bare hand. It sizzles when he touches it, glowing orange until it eventually burns down into a ash-black circle in the center of his palm. Once he’s satisfied that your pretty little ring has been reduced to nothing more than a scorch mark, he closes his hand around yours and you feel something sharp, painfully hot, etching onto your finger.

It’s over in a second, but you still yelp and yank your hand away from him as soon as he lets you. “Ah—ow, what was that?”

He burned you, he literally burned you! He’s already healed it, but there’s still a thin, pale scar, an intentional one left wrapping around the skin at the base of your left ring finger. Like a wedding ring.

When you look close, you can make out a symbol on the back of your finger where the cross used to sit—and even though your conscious mind doesn’t recognize it, the sight of it rings out something inside your ribcage, deeper and truer than flesh and blood. It’s the devil’s mark, you think. It’s his.

“…A promise,” Overhaul says softly, and even though it’s a chilly morning, you can feel the heat of his hands on yours a long time after he vanishes back into the dark.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #tw dubcon #tw sacrilege #tw christianity #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia x reader #my hero imagines #boku no hero fanfic #smut

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bl00dgutsgl0ry · 3 years

Text

Rivalry Put To Rest

Pairing - Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Arranged marriages (non of that under age like child marriages though fuck that yuck, these are obviously of age adults i just really wanna make that clear jesus), praise kink, modern AU, just lovely soft sex with my favorite man :'^).

Word Count - 2.4k

Other Comments - Dude it’s been so long since ive actually written anything im so sorry. But i couldn't resist writing this. I know i promised xiao but he will come in time. This is a little bit of a slow burn, or at least the sex doesnt start right away lol i want this to be nice and soft. P.s. youre on birth control so dont worry about no condom lol.

You did not like this idea. Why your parents were still forcing you into this was beyond you seeing as how you were a fully grown ass adult. You just couldn’t stomach the disappointment you would be seen as in their eyes. You were the daughter to the CEO of one of the most well known Law Firms in Teyvat. Zhongli was the son of another CEO who controlled your Rival company. Yours's and his parents wanted to finally settle the bad blood between the firms by having the two of you get married. You knew damn well the benefits of doing this was, god forbid if your Fathers firm went underwater, you would still be secure with Zhongli as your husband.

It’s not that you didn’t like Zhongli, and he certainly was not ugly; you just couldn’t stand your freedom to choose who you really wanted to marry being ripped from you. It was non negotiable though, so you had to go through with it. Zhongli didn’t seem to mind at all, he thoroughly enjoyed his very brief moments he had with you before, and was frankly excited to get more of those moments. He just hoped you didn’t resent him or blame him for this.

You both of course had an extravagant wedding, why would you not when your family was one of the wealthiest in Teyvat. You were grateful to your parents for letting you invite a few of your friends, and it seemed Zhongli had done the same. There was almost like a crowd formed around you two at the after party, you talking to your friends, and him with his. Zhongli had offered you his arm to hold onto, but you politely declined, feeling that even just holding his arm was too intimate for you.

“Already trouble in paradise for the two lovebirds?” One of Zhongli’s friends had chuckled, a red head with a stupidly smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as you shot a look at him. Your friend Ningguang frowned, turning to look at your now husband.

“Control your dog, Mr. Zhongli.” You let out a chuckle, when you heard Zhongli’s friend scoff.

After a while, it was customary for the newlyweds to go on their honeymoon; so after a couple of hours you had to bid farewell to your friends and family. You approached the jet the two of you would be taking, with Zhongli carrying the luggage not far behind. You went ahead and boarded, while your new husband spoke with the pilot and the crew, sighing to yourself.

“Come on (y/n) suck it up, this honeymoon will be over sooner than you know it.” You mumbled to yourself, settling into the high class jet.

“Did you say something (y/n)?” You jumped, not expecting to hear Zhongli’s voice. “Ah.. My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.” You sighed and shook your head, waiving your hand to dismiss the apology.

“You’re fine Zhongli, I’m just… Nervous is all.” He hummed in response, nodding as he settled himself into the jet.

“I understand (y/n), I really do apologize about this being thrusted into your lap. I know this isn’t the ideal circumstances for a young woman to go through.” You nodded, glad that he understood your hesitance to the situation. Zhongli really wasn’t a bad guy.

“It’s really not your fault Zhongli, I understand you probably had no more say in it than I.” You gave him a reassuring smile, the first genuine smile to grace his line of sight. Without noticing he found himself smiling back, relieved that you didn’t see him with any contempt. A comfortable silence settled, as the jet took off towards your destination.

It wasn’t a long flight, and along the way you were able to make small talk, slowly learning more about Zhongli. After two short hours, you felt the jet jump slightly against the ground before steadying itself on the runway. After a few more moments, you both departed, Zhongli once again handling the luggage, leaving your side to retrieve it.

Before you knew it, you were at the house you would be staying at for your honeymoon. It sat on a beautiful beach side shore, with a large open patio looking out over the ocean. By the time you guys had arrived it was already around 10:00 o’clock at night, so the crescent moon was high in the sky as you both stepped out onto the patio. The moon and stars gleamed against the inky black water, with the rhythmic beating of the waves lulling you both into a comfortable silence. You stood next to your husband and finally for the first time that night, actually took in his face.

The light of the scenery exposed the beauty Zhongli held in his face, the pale light bouncing off his cheekbones and illuminating his golden irises as he looked out over the sea. He must’ve felt you staring because moments later those golden eyes were locked on yours.

“Do you like the scenery (y/n)?” You gave a quick nod before ducking away from his gaze, a red flush rising to your face. You heard him chuckle for a moment before shifting.

“I know what is customary to happen on our honeymoon, and I do not want you to feel pressured to fulfill that part of our relationship.” You flushed even more as you suddenly found the pattern of the wood to be very interesting. You had completely forgot that sex was usually something people did on honeymoons. It seemed normal, because generally the people who get married have had a relationship before this so nothing felt awkward about the topic. Obviously that wasn't the case in this situation, but there was something in you that kind of wanted to. Something in you that felt comfortable enough with him to do it, you already trusted him which shocked you. What if he wasn’t though? What if he was uncomfortable with the thought of having sex with you right now which is why he brought it up so suddenly?

“Thank you Zhongli, you’re too kind. You’ve truly been so understanding through this entire thing.” You looked back up to him finally, and found a gentle smile on his face. He nodded and hummed before turning back to the house.

“We should probably get to bed, it’s already fairly late.” You nodded, pulling out your phone to check the time. You both walked about into the house together. “There is another room down the hall from the master bedroom if you don’t want to sleep in the same bed. It’s smaller so I could always take it.” There he goes, being considerate and kind; handling your thoughts and feelings like glass that would break any second. You remained silent for a moment contemplating on what he had said, before gently shaking your head.

“No, no, it’s fine. I want to share the bed with you.” You smiled up at him, and he looked almost surprised with your willingness, but the shock didn’t last for long before he smiled back at you and nodded; offering you his arm to hold on to, which you shakily took. You both reached the bedroom, where he had placed all of your guy's luggage before letting you go to retrieve your sleeping clothes as he did the same. You went into the bathroom, to give yourself and him some privacy before slowly re-entering. Zhongli was in a pair of brown silk pants with golden accents and a black short sleeve shirt. Your eyes met each other, and Zhongli smiled when he saw you.

“I know that these were unideal circumstances to get married, but I’m happy it is you who is my spouse. I can only hope you think the same of me, and that at some point you can genuinely feel connected to me.” You blushed as he said this, genuinely taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. You feel bad for dreading and almost resenting Zhongli when you were first notified about the engagement, once finding out just how compassionate and caring the man before you was. Slowly, the two of you made your way into the large king sized bed. There was a large gap between the two of you, large enough to comfortably fit another person. Your mind raced a mile a minute trying to decide whether or not you should scoot in a little closer to the man next to you.

And so you did, without taking another moment to think about it you shifted closer to Zhongli until your side gently pressed against his. You felt Zhongli stiffen beside you for a brief moment, and for a split second you regretted scooting in; that was until you felt him roll over onto his side and wrap a strong arm around your torso. You could really take in Zhongli’s scent like this and you noticed that he smelled like amber rum, chestnuts, and a hint of vanilla. It wrapped you in a warmth that lulled you into a comforting silence as the two of you laid together like this.

You rolled onto your side, letting Zhongli’s arm now rest against your waist. Your noses were almost touching as the two of you stared into each other's eyes. You saw his eyes dart down to your lips for the briefest of seconds, letting yourself do the same.

“Zhongli…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Can I kiss you?” You saw Zhongli’s eyes widen as his gorgeous eyes met yours, not expecting you to ask him that.

“I would love nothing more… Darling.” You flushed at the mild pet name, before softly placing your lips onto his. It felt as time skidded to a halt, as the two of you moved against each other with the grace of a slow dance. Soon enough it became heated, as you changed positions and straddled his hips. You could feel his boner pressing against you through his pants, and it made warmth bloom in your chest.

“You really want to do this right? You don’t feel pressured my dear?” You smiled at Zhongli’s questions, nodding before he could get another one out. It felt good to be so concerned about, so doted over.

“Yes Zhongli, I really want to do this with you. I trust you.” This time it was Zhongli’s turn to flush, an elegant smile gracing his lips. Before long, the both of you were out of your sleeping clothes and back on top of one another. Your back was to the silken bed sheets, as Zhongli was on top of you lining his hard cock up with your eager pussy. Zhongli gave you one last look before slowly entering you inch by inch. To say he was huge would be an understatement, so he knew he had to take it slow with you so as to not hurt you in any way. Zhongli needed this to be a good experience with you, he would never forgive himself if he hurt you or made this unenjoyable in any way at all.

The noises you were making and the way your hands were clawing at his back reassured him that he was doing everything right so far, always stopping after pushing in a few inches to give you time to adjust. Without thinking, Zhongli's mouth just started moving as words spilled out.

“You’re doing so good for me my angel, you’re taking me so well. You’re too good for me.” With the praise spilling out of Zhongli’s mouth, you couldn’t help but unleash a flurry of loud moans, as he bottomed out. He stood still for a couple moments, making sure you were nice and comfortable, until he felt you trying to move against him; trying to get him to move in and out of you.

“If you were ready for me to move, all you needed to do was ask my gem.” You let out a whine like moan, that evolved into a guttural groan when he finally started to thrust in and out of you. Your nails raked across his skin, surely leaving marks for you to admire after this was all said and done. He wasn’t skipping out on the marks either, as he sucked and bit at your skin, still throwing out praise every time his mouth left your skin. His fingers dug into your hips, as he sped up. He just couldn’t help himself, your wet quivering pussy just felt way too good wrapped around him; sucking him in every time he pulled out.

“I can’t believe it took us getting into an arranged marriage to finally meet, my god where have you been all my life.” Zhongli had begun to groan, obviously getting close to tipping over the edge, with the way his thrusts continued to get sloppier every so often. You moaned in response, too blissed out of your mind to form actual words. Zhongli’s head fell against your shoulder, his ebony black hair hanging off his shoulders.

With a few more strokes, Zhongli had both of you tumbling over the edge and cumming in unison. All that could be heard in your room was the quiet crashing of waves and the combined panting of the both of you. After a few moments of Zhongli getting his breath back he tumbled down next to you, sweaty shoulders touching. A couple seconds of silence passed before you spoke up in a raspy broken voice.

“It took us so long because I’m technically your rival.” You were giggling slightly, when Zhongli let out a loud chuckle.

“I guess you are right my dear, but now we are joined together. And I cannot wait to see what comes of our joining.”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli #genshin imagine #genshin impact imagine #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli imagine #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut

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vneuns · 3 years

Text

"THE FEAR OF LOSING YOU" + Punz

author's note(s): if this makes absolutely no sense it's okay. ive been trying to finish it for the past nine hours - also this is like a pt.3 to Chem Partner but i haven't written part two so it's outta wonk but use context clues ppl

cw: cursing, stupid people in love, best friend trope, tried doing the one bed trope but i got too tired and it didn't work out ;-; , 1.3k words yall better love the shit out of this.

Party in the U.S.A blasted through your best friend's matte black mustang as he raced along the Massachusetts freeway. With the windows rolled down Gasoline, Pine wood trees, and the Black Ice artificial cardboard tree hanging from his rearview mirror, Infiltrated your nose making you smile.

It was times like these when you could let loose and let the stress on your shoulders melt away as you soaked up the suffocating silence that was relaxing in a way.

The blonde hummed the song on the radio to himself tapping his fingers on the wheel to the beat whilst his right hand rested on your thigh something the two of you had gotten into the routine of doing.

“Excited?”

A hum left his soft light pink lips in acknowledgment reaching forward for a split second to turn down the radio.

“Of course I am.” He smiled his thumb rubbing your thigh after resting his hand back down on its original place. You ignored the heat rushing to your cheeks at the small intimate action. Oblivious to your reaction, Punz continues as if nothing had happened.

“How about you? Mom wouldn’t stop nagging me about bringing you,”

“Love your family, I’m probably more excited than you are.”

He side eyes you shaking his head with a smile just biting the corner of his lip as he sped up a bit on the seemingly empty highway. Your eyes darted away from your best friends face, in the two years it’s taken for the two of you to reconnect you’ve had multiple stolen glances and lingering touches, but that night at the party when you caught him kissing some random girl whilst drunk up on alcohol the image replays in your head when you try to imagine the two of you actually together.

Deep down you knew it wasn’t your place to get upset because the two of you had just mended your friendship, but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. During those few hours when working on your project you thought you felt a connection except that was either not the case or he didn’t feel the same.

With how long it’s been, any person who was losing sleep because of someone who was clouding their mind 24-7 would tell that person how they felt. But rejection isn’t a pretty thing you want to come face to face with.

When you’ve already lost someone once you’d go through anything to not lose them again.

_____________________________________________________________________

“Y/n!” A tiny voice screeches when you walk into the living room, your backpack draped over your shoulder, hands holding onto a small gift bag you had brought for the girl in front of you. A smile adorned your features as you knelt down a bit with open arms allowing the little one to throw herself into you.

“I’m your uncle and you say hi to her first.” you giggle removing your arms from around her small body so she can say her hi’s to her jealous uncle.

Shaking your head you move over to where his sister is sat on the couch giving her a small hug before moving to the kitchen to greet his mom. The smell of a freshly cooked salmon invaded your nose as you greeted the woman who was waiting for your arrival.

“Y/n my love!” She gushed, wiping off her freshly washed hands on her apron advancing towards you, her arms open and the smell of her cinnamon perfume Punz had bought her last Christmas waffled around her like a field of flowers in an empty meadow.

“It’s been so long.” You sighed into her shoulder allowing her to rock you back and forth whilst her hands ran up and down your back.

“Go get ready, supper’ll be ready in a bit.”

During dinner you fell into place like a real family. Growing up you never got to eat dinner together with your mom or dad, one of them was always working late or too tired to sit down and eat a homemade meal. Except now with your friend back in your life, you’re finally getting the childhood your parents robbed you of by being absent in your life.

A little while after your blonde headed friend collected some plates from off the table and trailed after his mom who was rinsing them and loading them into the dishwasher. “I got it mum,” He offered, placing the dishes in his hand next to the sink and taking the one she was rinsing under warm water from her hands gently, placing a kiss on her cheek.

“So, what’s going on with you and Y/n?”

“Nothing mom.”

Not believing him his mother tsked in disapproval leaning her back to the counter next to him. Punz knew what she was hinting at, but the two of you were at a good place in your friendship, and adding feelings to the mix would just complicate things more than they needed to be complicated.

“They're in love with you, and if you don’t see that then maybe you should tell them so they’re not holding onto something that’ll never be.” And with that she walked out greeting you just as you walked in oblivious to the conversation that had just happened between the two.

“Hey, what was that all about?”

You watched as he just shook his head finishing up the dishes before turning his attention to you.

“What’s up?”

Deciding not to push it noticing he obviously didn’t want to talk about whatever just happened, you let it go. “Wanna watch The notebook?” The boy next to you groans, dropping his head back.

“We always watch The Notebook.”

A huff leaves your lips as you tilt your head. It was very rare he didn’t give in.

“Fine.”

_____________________________________________________________________

“Pay attention to the movie dummy.” You groan when you notice the bright light illuminating from his phone in the dark room indicating he wasn’t paying all that much attention.

“We’ve seen it so many times there’s no reason to, already know how it ends.”

Before he could even blink a pillow was colliding with his face knocking him against the headboard of the bed a bit. A giggle left your lips when it had taken a good few seconds before he had realized what had just happened.

“Now pay attention and watch the movie.” You stated reaching across him, grabbing his phone before resting your head against his chest forcing him to do nothing but what you had directed. Punzs mind raced with questions at the new position you were now in.

The two of you rarely ever “cuddle” but is it cuddling if one party is unaware its cuddling? The boy took notice of how your breathing began to become calmer as you fell asleep against him.

Of course you guys had shared the same bed before but now it was like it was different. Things were changing and feelings were growing and these little things the two of you did were done mostly by couples.

But with your head against his chest and the little drool coming out of your mouth he could get use to something like this. Waking up beside you in the morning, cooking, baking and all the other sappy shit couples do, must most of all being able to kiss.

To feel your lips against his, and your arms run through his hair. Yes. This was definitely something that he wanted.

But he was scared.

He was scared of rejection.

He was scared of not having his best friend in his life anymore.

But most of all he was scared of losing you. It felt like he had just gotten you back into his life, and he didn’t know if he could go through that pain again.

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@inniterhq @basilly @yamturds @dysfunctionalcrab @tinyegg @ttakinou @charnease @i-mmunity @b3l0v3ds @alice-blue-skies @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @mitzimania @joyfullymulti @dreamzluvrr @multifandomgirl-us @sufloerfs @sunniewrites

#mcyt x reader #mcyt x yn #sapnap x reader #dream x reader #georgenotfound x reader #fluff #dream smp ff #dream team ff #feral boys ff #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x oc #mcyt x you #mcyt x platonic reader #angst #punz x you #punz fanfiction #punz x reader #Punz x gn!reader #Punz x fem!reader

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writingmyanxietyaway · 4 years

Text

Confessions | El Profesor

Requested by anon: can i request a lcdp imagine where the reader likes the professor and she confesses nights before the heist but he wants to stay true to his relationship rule so she is heartbroken so she doesn’t want to talk to him and when the heist comes she doesn’t eat and sleep and he gets really worried about her so he expresses his true feelings to her

Word count: 1.8k

Warning: mention of a gun, not eating/drinking, angst

Note: takes place in the first season! Hope you like it, enjoy! xx

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

You were in a difficult position. On one hand you wanted to wait until everything was over. On the other hand you were unsure if you would make it out alive. You knew about his rule not to engage any relationships of any kind and he took it very seriously, but the thing was you absolutely him to death and you were willing to take that risk. So here you were, about to confess your feelings for him.

You waited until everyone had left the classroom and took a deep breath. You had clammy hands and you were lightly trembling.

‘I- uhm.. Can I talk to you for a minute?’ you asked the Professor. He turned around, away from his chalkboard with raised eyebrows. His glasses had slipped down his nose a little, so he pushed them up. You found it adorable. Just like how he scrunched his nose whenever you talked to him.

‘Sure. Did I talk too fast or was I not clear about something?’ he stuttered. He instantly started doubting himself if he had indeed missed anything he was supposed to explain.

‘No, no. You were great. I just, uhm.. I kind of have something to tell you..’ you trailed off, ‘something personal.’

‘Bali, you know how I feel about sharing personal information. I specifically told you,’ he stated. Suddenly you felt incredible stupid. How did you think this was going to work when he clearly said he didn’t want any personal information shared?

‘I know.. I just want you to know something in case things go south. It doesn’t have to get in the way of your whole plan. If you don’t feel the same, we can just pretend it never happened.’ You waved your hand around, not really knowing what to do with your hands. ‘I just wanted you to know that I really like you. More than a friend or teacher, or whatever you are to me. I think you’re really handsome and nice. So, yeah..’ you spoke.

You couldn’t read his face. You saw somewhat of shock flash across his face, but you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

‘Well..? Am I just embarrassing myself or do you maybe feel the same? It doesn’t have to be a long answer. Just a yes or no is fine,’ you rambled.

He looked at you, fumbled with his glasses and turned back to the chalkboard.

‘I’d rather had you hadn’t shared this. This makes it all a lot more complicated,’ he sighed and grabbed a piece of chalk. ‘Can I still trust you to complete your tasks?’

You frowned, feeling not only rejected but also very used at the same time.

‘I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m just asking if you might feel the same.. You don’t have to be so rude,’ your voice cracked. Sergio mentally slapped himself in the face for hurting you, but he had to.

‘You knew the rules. I told you not to share anything personal. Relationships make this all a lot more difficult. I cannot allow this to fail. I made those rules for a reason,’ he said. It was like a slap in the face. He didn’t even have the respect to tell you a) if he did or did not feel the same, but also b) to look you in the eye.

‘Yeah, you mentioned that, twice, but the least I deserve is an answer to my face. I guess that answers my question. Just forget I said anything.’

Obviously, that was impossible for the both of you. The next few days were awkward and very uncomfortable. You tried listening to everything The Professor was saying, but you couldn’t look at him. You did notice him staring at you once every while, making Berlin tease you and Denver tease him. You found it all very embarrassing and couldn’t wait until you were inside the bank to escape his face.

Everything went according to plan. You got in, locked everyone out and had now been inside for almost 2 days. You loved every part of it. The tension with Berlin got out of hand for a while, but soon after the storm blew over and you were back in the game.

‘Are you okay? You haven’t eaten since yesterday..’ Nairobi asked you, genuine concern written over her face. It was true. You weren’t hungry or thirsty so you hadn’t eaten. Usually you had a great appetite, but you couldn’t bring yourself to eat. Everyone noticed, though. Including Sergio. He noticed you were always wandering around the halls, not even sleeping. He was incredibly worried and felt like an idiot for behaving the way he did. He sat behind his computers, fidgeting with his hands, wanting to do something.

‘Yeah, fine. Just got a lot on my mind, is all,’ you nodded at her. She didn’t look convinced in the slightest, so she grabbed a sandwich and handed it to you.

‘I want this eaten in an hour. If you’ve not eaten it I will push it down your throat,’ she sternly told you. You chuckled.

‘Yes, mother.’

As soon as she left, you threw it back in the fridge. When you heard yelling in the hallway, you grabbed your weapon and braced yourself for what you would find. Berlin was obviously yelling loudly again, threatening to shoot Arturo. Same shit different day.

It was now two days later and you had eaten a little bit more than one sandwich since Nairobi basically forced you to eat. You looked a lot more tired, your energy level had dropped to -4 and you were phisically and mentally exhausted. You looked like shit, to say it lightly. Sergio had grown more and more worried, telling the others to keep an even closer eye on you.

‘Drop the gun,’ you told Berlin, who had his gun pointed at Denver. He only smirked. ‘Denver, you too. I’m not fucking around. We need each other. We can’t just keep shooting at one another just because we’re stressed. Think for once, damn it.’ You raised your voice gradually as you spoke.

Berlin raised his eyebrows at you. His eyes flickered from your gun to Denver, who was about to burst with anger. As you held out your gun, the strength in your arms weakened. You tried your best holding up the gun, but when you focussed on your arms, your vision got blurry. When you tried focussing your vision again, your arms started trembling.

‘Berlin, please,’ you sighed. Your mouth got incredibly dry all of a sudden and your speech turned more into slurs. You felt yourself getting weaker by the second and this child’s play cost too much of the little energy you had left. Denver quickly lowered his gun when he saw you sway back and forth.

‘Bali? Bali!’ You saw him rushing to you, just like Berlin before your vision turned completely black and you fell to the floor.

‘We told her to eat! It’s not our damn fault. She’s too stubborn to listen.’

Your hearing slowly came back before you could open your eyes. You felt someone hold your hand while someone else was on the phone.

‘No, of course not... Yes, we did that already. Shouldn’t be too long before she wakes up,’ the voice came closer, ‘I think she’s waking up, hold on.. Bali, honey, can you hear me?’

You nodded lightly before slowly opening your eyes. Moskú held the phone while Rio held your hand. You were in the office, laying on one of the couches. You had an IV in your arm and a bag of liquid hung next to the window. You waved to the camera in the corner, letting The Professor know you were in fact alive.

‘He wants to talk to you.. We’ll give you some privacy while you two talk. When you’re done, just give us a call,’ he smiled and handed you the phone.

‘Thank you, guys. For everything,’ you tried smiling, but you were still too weak. They gave you a kiss on the head and left to the hallway.

‘Starving yourself? Really?’ Was the first thing you heard when you held the phone to your ear. You groaned loudly.

‘No, I just wasn’t hungry. Adrenaline, probably,’ you muttered. ‘Why do you care anyway? It’s not like I’m any good use compared to the others.’

‘Are you serious? You and Berlin are the leaders of this entire plan, Bali. How could you be so stupid?! We need you and we need you alive. Too many people have died already, I can’t loose you too,’ he stuttered. You heard his jagged breath.

‘Are you done?’ you asked, not wanting to deal with his whining anymore.

‘I’m sorry..’ he sighed, ‘You scared me. I thought I was going to loose you, Y/N.’

Your breathing stopped for a second and you sat up. He never called anyone by their actual names. You didn’t even know he knew yours.

‘Why did you call me that?’ you asked, heart beating loudly in your chest. ‘You said no personal details or any information.’

‘I know.. I just had to know your name. God, I want to know everything about you. Your favourite breakfast, your favourite country, what your goals in life are.. I want to know it all. And that scares me. I’ve never had this urge to get to know someone as much as you. You’re perfect in every way and I almost lost you,’ he confessed. Your felt your heart flutter and you turned your head to look into the camera.

‘What are you saying?’ you asked him, hoping to finally hear want you’ve wanted to hear for the past two weeks.

‘I.. I like you. A lot. And I was too scared to tell you because I’ve never felt anything like this before for anyone. I was so rude to you and you don’t deserve that. Please forgive me?’ he asked hopefully. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips.

‘Waffles with strawberries, kiwi’s and mango,’ you answered.

‘What?’ he asked, completely confused by your answer.

‘My favourite breakfast,’ you winked into the camera. You heard him let out a laugh on the other end of the line, making you smile as well.

‘So, who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?’ you whispered.

‘Sergio. Sergio Marquina.’

‘Nice to meet you Sergio. Now, get me out of here. I want to go to the beach.’

#la casa de papel #lcdp #lcdp imagine #el professor x reader #el professor imagine #alvaro morte #lcdp x reader

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spacedikut · 4 years

Text

“i want to love someone and be loved” ; spencer reid - part 2

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: spencer decides it’s time to tell you, but he needs some help. 3887 words. part 1

a/n: THIS is the longest fic ive ever written but im actually kinda proud of how it turned out? i hope this is a good sequel :)

Spencer chickens out of telling you the next day.

He avoids you all weekend, actually. You resisted texting him the day after Rossi’s because you assumed he’d be busy – with his big plan involving a girl that isn’t you. You’re not bitter – but Sunday comes around and you message him not long after you wake up and six hours later there’s no response.

Twelve hours later - there’s no response.

Monday, you don’t have time to say hello to anyone – there’s a case waiting for you, somewhere in Florida.

Reid avoids your eyes. His body language tells you something is wrong, so you assume whoever he confessed to didn’t reciprocate (they’re insane) and he’s dealing with it. So you don’t press.

Spencer pretends to sleep the entire jet ride. He’s avoiding everyone, not just you.

He spent the whole weekend beating himself up. He drove to your apartment on Saturday, sat outside for so long a neighbour knocked on his window and asked if he was lost, but couldn’t bring himself to step foot out of his car.

So he locked himself in his room, away from you and your loveliness and away from his phone because he knew you texted him and he knew you’d send some soft message about being there for him if he needs anything and he didn’t need to be reminded of how beautiful and out of reach you are.

Derek seemed to be waiting for him Monday morning, arms crossed as he held a cup of coffee. It was weird seeing him in before Spencer.

“How’d it go?” He immediately asked.

“How’d what go?” Spencer mumbles, flinging his bag on the floor by his desk. He slumps in his seat.

Derek raises a dark eyebrow, “You know what, pretty boy. You had a big thing? Big plan?”

“Didn’t work out.”

It doesn’t take a profiler to realise Spencer is very clearly saying leave me alone. Leave it alone.

Derek isn’t one to leave it alone. Especially when it comes to Spencer.

He sighs and moves a little closer to Spencer’s desk, just in case someone overhears them.

“What happened?”

“That’s exactly it,” Spencer slams open a file, “Nothing happened.”

“And why did nothing happen?”

“Because I’m an idiot that can’t even tell a girl how I feel.”

“Whoa- hey!”

Derek spins Spencer’s chair so they’re face to face. Derek takes one look in Spencer’s eyes and knows what’s going on – he got too into his head and backed out at the last minute.

“You’re not an idiot. Why didn’t you do it?”

Spencer shrugs, “I got to her apartment. I had flowers, too. I don’t know.”

Derek’s evidently concerned – Spencer’s beaten up over this, over whoever this girl is, and he deserves the chance to experience love. Spencer deserves a lot more than he himself thinks he does.

“You seemed really excited, man. You can still do it. Just cause you try once and it doesn’t work out doesn’t mean you can’t ever try again.”

Spencer stares off into the distance, accidentally ignoring Derek as his thoughts slip out of his mouth, “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway – I was stupid to think I could get someone like her.”

“Hey, no.” Derek nudges Spencer’s shoulder so he looks at him again, “Don’t talk like that. You’re one hell of a guy, Reid. All you gotta do is get that confidence that you had Friday night back, and you’re all set. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Spencer gives a feeble nod. Derek moves back to his desk, knowing he isn’t convinced, but he isn’t done yet.

+++

Later, in Florida, Spencer’s making a coffee in the precinct’s kitchen after waiting twenty minutes for you to leave. Luck’s on his side, for once, and you’ve been working non-stop with Prentiss going crime scene to crime scene so he hasn’t had to actively avoid you. You smile at him every chance you get, though, and it distracts him.

Someone clears their throat behind him. It’s Penelope, whom Spencer didn’t realise was invited on this case.

She looks guilty. Spencer recognises that face; the face she has when she’s done something she shouldn’t have or knows something she isn’t really supposed to. Given current circumstances, Spencer bets it’s the latter reason.

“Morgan told me something he shouldn’t have.”

Bingo.

He leans against the kitchen counter, stirring his coffee absentmindedly.

“What did he tell you?” He asks, feigning tranquillity. Inside he’s screaming non-stop.

She’s got her hands clasped together in front of her, almost innocently, and fiddles with her fingers, “He told me you needed assistance in the love department.” Before he can object, she continues, “And I am willing to do anything if it means our resident weirdo-slash-genius falls in love and gets to experience some much needed cuteness.”

There’s no point in lying to her. There’s also no point in being mad that Morgan told her about his situation – they’re kind of a package deal. And, who knows, Garcia might be able to help.

“So…” She sways, trying (and failing) to appear nonchalant, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Spencer shuffles on the spot, scuffing his shoes against the floor. He debates whether he should tell her, since, you know, you’re in the next room over, but Spencer worries that Garcia is so good at her job she’d somehow find out through hacking Spencer’s phone, or maybe somehow hacking his dreams. His subconscious. He’s terrified of Garcia and her abilities.

“You can tell me.” She insists, “I’m much better at keeping secrets than Morgan.”

Spencer turns away from her, she steps closer, and he mumbles your name.

“What?”

“Y/N.”

“WHAT?!”

Spencer spins, hands coming up to tell Garcia to shut up and Garcia immediately covers her mouth in both shock and hopefully so she doesn’t shout again.

“Since when?!” She screeches. “How could I not have known?! Oh God, almighty Doctor Reid, I feel like I’ve failed you by not realising earlier.”

Her enthusiasm makes him smile, for the first time in far too long. Garcia has that power – this innate skill to comfort those around her and make them feel special, make them smile when the world feels like its collapsing.

“Let me help!” She requests.

Spencer’s clearly hesitant. He knows it’s a bad idea.

“Please!” She begs, “I just- I have so many ideas of how you can go about this. Let me brainstorm, get back to you, and if I’m too over-the-top you can tell me no and we’ll pretend it never happened!”

He takes a deep breath. Yes, Garcia is the definition of over-the-top, but that’s one of his favourite things about her. It’s your favourite thing, too. And he did tell Morgan he had big plans. Anything involving Garcia is a big plan with big payoff.

“This is between us.”

“I’ll take it to the grave. Unless you realise how amazing my ideas are and use one to tell Y/N how you feel and then years later I get to commend myself during my maid of honour speech at your wedding.”

She looks ecstatic, hands now together under her jaw as her eyes twinkle. Spencer can’t help but laugh at her eagerness.

+++

The next day, the team returns to Quantico after a semi-successful case. The general mood is good and Morgan invites everyone out for drinks – Spencer declines, but you have your first full conversation since last Friday.

“C’mon, Spence,” Your head rests against the jet seat and you blink sleepily at him, “I feel like I haven’t spoken to you for years!”

Spencer gives you a small smile, “I promised my mom I’d call her tonight. Sorry, Y/N.”

You nod in understanding, “Will you tell her I say hi?”

“Of course. She loves you.”

You grin at eachother, immediately lost in your own world. You’ve missed him more than you realised, and you have no idea what’s going through his head, but you’re happy that you’ve had this – a Spencer Reid smile that makes you feel at home and on top of the world simultaneously.

Spencer has to tear his eyes away before he blurts something stupid, like she’s not the only one that loves you.

+++

“Spencer!” Garcia greets, Cheshire cat grin on her face. “I need to see you in my dungeon, please. Immediately.”

Spencer drops the file he’s holding. Unfortunately, Penelope’s request caught the attention of the whole team.

“What business do you have in the villain’s lair, Reid?” Derek asks. You’ve looked up from your computer, Emily smirking and leaning back in her chair in expectation.

“Uh…”

“Important nerd business. Go away.” Garcia says, eyes narrow as she tugs Spencer’s hand. He’s whisked away from any further questioning, leaving the befuddled team behind.

He isn’t sure what to expect when he stumbles into Penelope’s second home, but the display in front of him explains why he overheard a conversation about missing evidence boards earlier. Penelope’s obviously been using the new printer in her cave to her advantage – there’s at least twenty different pictures printed out on one board titled “date ideas”, then the board on the right has a picture of Spencer and you in the centre with a perfectly drawn heart around it. Under and around that is a mixture of love quotes, including song lyrics and quotes directly from romantic movies. He notices “The Parliament of Fowls” on there – Garcia remembers that he mentioned it’s considered the first Valentines poem?

“Whoa,” Is all he can say.

“I know it’s a little intense,” Garcia squirms, “But! I started scrolling through Pinterest and couldn’t stop. I don’t know what came over me, maybe some type of love deity, but I started thinking about you and Y/N in a classic love film in, like, black and white and I…”

She’s out of breath from animatedly explaining.

Spencer laughs through his nose, almost a scoff, but he’s impressed. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the Penelope Garcia.

As Spencer wanders towards the first board, Garcia follows him like a shadow, “My personal favourite is-“ She points to a picture of chocolate fondue with faceless people in very little clothing, “-this one.”

Spencer awkwardly clears his throat when he begins to think of you and him like that.

“A little much for your declaration of love, though, I get it,” Garcia nods.

He scans the board – heart speeding up when he moves from idea to idea and picturing you and him in each one. He can’t help but think no, that one would be good for our anniversary – ah, she’d love to do that one for her birthday.

“What’re you thinking?” Garcia asks quietly. She knows his brain is whirring like her computer drive, so she approaches him gently.

“This one.” He says. “Where should we do it?”

Garcia grins behind him. The one he’s referring to shows a dinner table set up outside, brown wooded table with white wooden chairs opposite eachother. There’s flowers at the centre, a bottle of wine already poured in each glass in front of a basket of cookies, and the area around is shrouded by shrubbery, fairy lights hanging delicately from every-which-way.

It’s perfect. You love fairy lights, Spencer loves cookies, and the set-up looks private enough for Spencer to feel confident when he empties his heart and soul to you.

“The roof.” Garcia says wistfully.

“We have access to that?”

“Yes.” They both know they don’t. “Leave it to me. Oh… one more thing.” She adds, hesitantly, “Can Morgan help? I’m a lot of things, including emotionally strong and your love guru, but physically I’m gonna need some assistance.”

Spencer doesn’t even need to agree – Morgan’s gonna involve himself no matter what.

+++

Five o’clock is quickly approaching and you’re slumped over your desk, lost in your work. You need to be lost in it, because ever since Garcia released Spencer from her office right after lunch he’s been sneaking glances at you (he’s not sneaky) and has made several attempts to approach you but decided against it, sharply turning and pretending he meant to go another way instead.

You are beyond confused. You assume it’s to do with the girl he’s been trying to get over – you hope he’s been trying to build the confidence to tell you exactly what happened and maybe, you really hope, he’ll invite you over for the weekend so you can slip back into your old routine.

“Psst.”

You assume they’re not trying to get your attention, so you don’t move.

“Psst!”

You still don’t move.

“Y/N!”

Your head snaps up to Spencer leaning over the divider between your desks. He looks alarmed – which is odd, given he’s the one who called you – and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally speaks.

“Are you busy tonight?” He sits back and, if he wasn’t so goddamn tall, all you’d be able to see would be his eyes. His added height means you can see his eyes and his nose. You wanna kiss it.

You smile – this is an olive branch, “I am completely available for whatever it is you might need.”

You sound incredibly eager, which you are. You miss him.

His cheeks move upwards, a smile, “Can I talk to you, later, on the roof? Uh-“ He clears his throat, “-I need to tell you something.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You’re not gonna push me off, right?”

“No,” He laughs.

“Promise me.”

Now he guffaws, “I would never, Y/N!”

“Promise me, Reid!”

“Alright, alright! I promise!” He’s jokingly raising his hands in a form of surrender.

You give him another smile and turn back to your work. You feel at ease, now, thinking he’s finally gonna tell you what happened on the weekend – finally you’ll be able to help him and go back to normal.

Spencer, on the other hand, is the exact opposite of ease. He’s about to pour his heart out to you.

He takes a deep breath and looks back to his computer, which is open on a tab titled “How to Tell Someone You Like Them.”

Step 3: Be Confident.

Spencer opens a new tab and searches, “How to be confident.”

+++

Garcia hacks into Spencer’s computer to open a document and type that the roof is ready. She wishes him luck, tells him she loves him, and calls dibs on being the godmother of your future children. As if she doesn’t have enough godchildren as it is.

He clears his throat and your head snaps towards him. You’ve been done for a while, playing Tetris on your phone, waiting for Spencer to take you to the roof where he swears he won’t kill you – you’re not entirely convinced.

“Um-“ He scratches his neck, “You ready to go?”

You nod and give him a weak smile in hopes it gives him some type of reassurance.

“Whatever happened, it’s okay, Spence.”

All he does is nod in return, gathering his coat and bag. He doesn’t really register what you say, or he would’ve been very confused.

You follow him up to the roof. The elevator ride is silent and Spencer is jittery; his hands twitch and tap against his legs, he’s bouncing on his toes and he keeps looking at you through the corner of his eye. You’ve taken several deep breaths to calm your racing heart – you hate heights, and this is the closest you’ve been to Spencer in a week. This will be the longest conversation you’ve had with him in a week, too.

The second the doors open, Spencer leaps in front of you.

“Wait!”

You jump back in surprise, “What? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Completely fine. Just… when we get there, let me explain first, okay? Before you say anything.” He’s pleading, as if you’ve already told him no. You look at him with furrowed brows and mumble an ‘okay’.

You’re visibly confused as you trek up the flight of stairs to the roof. Spencer pushes open the fire door and the first thing you notice is how bright the roof is – you always assumed it’d be dark, little light, especially at night like this.

Wait.

There’s fairy lights… everywhere. You’re pretty sure this isn’t the norm for the FBI roof.

Spencer is equally as awed at what he sees before him - it’s exactly the photo he saw in Garcia’s cave brought to life, but he’s too distracted by you to fully appreciate it. You look like a child on Christmas; eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth slightly agape. You’re gorgeous.

“What…is this, Spence?” You wonder, noticing the set table, fingers grazing the roses that sit in a vase in the middle. They’re fresh and smell wonderful.

He stands a little behind you, fiddling with his hands, and clears his throat, “Would you like to take a seat?”

You do. When he finally sits, he pours you a glass of wine and you immediately take an anxious sip. Although Rossi is a big fan of wine, you rarely take interest in it only when Spencer’s involved. You’ve come to associate wine with him – a smile peeks out from your glass as you stare at the man opposite you.

“I need to get something off my chest. But there’s cookies, if you want one,” He picks one up from his plate, breaking it in half and giving it to you. He’s stalling, but you seem to take the bait and bite into it.

“Are these from the bakery two blocks away?”

“Yeah,” He replies, but he isn’t really paying attention. He doesn’t know where to begin.

You wait patiently for him to open up. You’re still unsure of what to make of all of this – the beautiful setting, the wine, the flowers, the lights. God, the lights are dazzling in the Virginia night sky. You need context, and you need it now.

“Spence-“

“Listen.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I just…” He trails off, “I need to say what I need to say before I back out again.”

You fold your hands in your lap. You’re ready for whatever’s to come.

“Do you know how long we’ve known eachother?” He asks. His head tilts like a puppy.

“Nearly five years. Our friendaversary is coming up, you know.”

You realise, then, that this must be a celebration for that – that explains the… typically romantic setting. Before you can open your mouth to ask if that what’s this is, Spencer speaks.

“Four years, three-hundred and sixty days. That’s how long we’ve known eachother.”

“If we were dating, we would’ve been my longest relationship the second we passed a year.”

You don’t know why you said it, but it flusters him. He has to pause to take a breath and collect his thoughts.

“I’ve been in love with you for four years and three hundred and fifty-eight days, Y/N.”

It’s silent as you process and he figures out how to continue.

“I knew you were special when you were introduced to us. Hotch already had such a soft spot for you, and you had this way about you that made us all fall in love instantly. I remember Garcia did a background check the second she found out your name and she said you remind her of me and I… that freaked me out, to be honest. I thought you’d try to replace me.” He huffs a laugh, but can’t bring himself to look you in the eye, “I realised I was in love with you when you drunkenly defended me. Do you remember that?” His eyes flicker to yours for half a second – you’re wide-eyed, “You’d known me for two days at that point, but we’d already done a case together so we were celebrating. And these guys at the bar were whispering about me, acting like I couldn’t hear them, and the second you realised what was happening you stood up, stormed towards them and gave them a piece of your mind. It was incredible.

“You barely knew me, at least personally, but you thought so highly of me you scolded a group of drunk bodybuilders without a second thought. You made them apologise – it was hysterical watching someone half their size force them into submission like that – and when you were done you asked if I wanted to leave and go get ice cream. We couldn’t, cause you vomited on the way there, but I knew in that moment I loved you and I feel so hard, so quickly, I didn’t know what to do. And you never… you never indicated you thought of me as anything other than a friend so I didn’t try. Then you dated Greg who, in my opinion, sucked on his best days, and you encouraged me to date Abigail and I…”

He’s run out of breath and of things to say.

“I just love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.” He adds, “I hope that’s okay.”

He finally looks at you, then. You’re just staring and he panics when he can’t make out what you’re feeling. He’s always been able to read you, you’ve always hated the saying that eyes are the windows to the soul because your eyes are always your tell, but now they’re… glassy.

You’re crying.

“Spencer…” You gasp, throat tight.

“It’s okay.” Spencer gives a tight-lipped smile. He knows what’s coming. He should’ve expected it. He has been expecting it.

“I love you too, Spence.”

Spencer chokes on air. He takes a gulp of wine.

You give him a teary smile in disbelief, “I’ve always loved you, Spence. I thought you knew that – I thought that big brain of yours knew exactly how I felt and… you didn’t do anything about it so I thought you didn’t feel the same. Spencer…”

He slowly moves a hand to place it palm-up on the table. Immediately you place your hand in his, your grip tight as you lovingly stare at him. This feels unreal.

“I’m in love with you too, you idiot.” You half laugh, half cry, “If you’ve really loved me this long, we’ve wasted so much time! God, we’re both idiots.”

Spencer’s crying too, now, and he starts laughing with you.

You’re two idiots in love, sitting opposite eachother on the roof of your place of work in a dream-like surrounding filled with fairy lights and flowers, and you could’ve been doing this for years.

Spencer sniffles, looking at you through his wet eyelashes, “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“If I say yes, will I get more dates like this?” You tease.

“Well, Garcia has a whole evidence board of date ideas she stole from Pinterest. We have enough ideas to last a lifetime.” He giggles.

“Penny was in on this?!”

Spencer gives a heh, “This is all thanks to her, so yeah.”

“She’s always had our backs.”

“She’s also now going to be convinced she’s cupid.”

You laugh again, and can’t help yourself when you lean across the table, still gripping Spencer’s hand, and letting your lips fall on his. Spencer leans into you, lips moving against yours as you both try to suppress grins.

You pull back slightly, Spencer’s lips following you, and whisper, “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

He kisses you again. And again. And again, just cause he can.

Big plan, big payoff. You’re worth every little stress and more.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #mine #garcia is watching everything through the security cameras btw #you think she'd do all this and NOT watch her hard work flourish?#think AGAIN

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

Just A Dream Away

Chapter 1/13 read here on ao3!

my piece for @harringrovebigbang!

Art and moodboard from my amazing team, @monochromegee and @shewritesdirty respectively, to come soon!

~~~~

Six months. Six months and twelve days.

That’s how long Billy has been in the hospital. In a coma. His health rapidly deteriorating.

After one month it was required he be put on a ventilator. Two and his wounds started getting infected. By month three, the hospital asked that a representative be chosen for him, just in case he didn’t pull through.

Neil Hargrove refused. Barked into the receiver something along the lines of, “What do I care if the boy wanted to go and get himself killed?” It was entirely defensive, his voice cracking as he finished his sentence, but the hospital still never contacted him again, not for updates or bills or anything. His wife was far too busy taking care of one grieving child and a lazy husband already to worry about an additional burden.

All of Billy’s extended family was still in California, had written him off years before they’d even left home for Indiana anyways. The moment his mother walked out the door, nobody else wanted him either, so they were off the table too.

The town of Hawkins had been turned inside out by the deaths of more than thirty community members, some of which were still being reported as missing so many months later. Nobody had the time, or in many cases the heart, to take care of the lone survivor.

That left only one person. The one who’d been taking care of him even before he’d fallen into a coma. The one who’d understood him better than anyone else, who’d given him a chance, who’d loved him more than anything.

Steve gets a call from the hospital, the way he is usually woken up these days. Every other morning, as soon as visitation opens, a nurse calls him for a quick update. The duties of a representative for someone unconscious, for his Billy in a coma.

He’s beyond exhausted, dragging himself to and from Hawkins General day in and day out, sometimes bringing Max or a few of the other kids along with him. Mostly because every day is the same thing, walking through the halls, facing the polite smiles from nurses who deal with this on the daily, don’t understand the way it feels to see the one you love on that bed.

If he does hear anything new, it’s usually not good news. He knows Billy is getting worse, but still he sits in that room for countless hours, watching and waiting for the moment he’s struck with a miracle, and he comes back to him.

The hospital is not quite as patient though, and since about month four of Billy’s hospital stay, they’d been encouraging Steve to consider his wards right to die. After so much time had passed by without signs of improvement, the nurses had started hesitating in the doorway when he was around, and offering kind little suggestions that were supposed to push him towards the decision to let Billy go.

Things like, “It’s not really him anymore, honey.” and, “He’s getting worse by the minute, poor thing.”, and Steve’s favorite, the one that made him leave the hospital in tears, “If he wanted to wake up, he would have done it by now.”

But no matter how true what they were saying may have been, Steve really did not want to hear it. The only reason the thought of letting Billy go had ever crossed the minds of doctors and nurses was because of what was on the news, all these up and coming stories about hospital ethics committees that were popping up all over the country recently.

They were being selfish, willing to let Billy die just because they were scared they wouldn’t be able to stand the heat that would come from keeping an eighteen year old boy on life support for as long as they had. Whether or not they actually thought they could save him was a question for another day.

So they would mail Steve countless papers and claims and pamphlets to try to reason with him, to persuade him that the best thing to do was to kill Billy because they didn’t want to deal with him anymore. It made him sick to his stomach, to think that people who were supposedly trained to help people were so hellbent on giving up on a patient.

He wonders sometimes, if they wouldn’t be so hasty to pull the plug had he been an easier case. If his father was more supportive and his biological mother present, or if the government hadn’t worked so hard to cover up the origin of his injuries. Maybe even if his representative was a nice young woman instead.

But there’s nothing he can do about it, so he just crumples the papers and ignores their premature condolences, and goes to visit Billy at every moment he can.

The drive to the hospital that particular morning feels like it takes a whole day instead of the 20 minutes the route actually is, Steve feeling like he’s suspended in time. It doesn’t seem real, taking the stairs up to the second floor, elevators were a no go after the free fall he took at Starcourt, and taking a visitor sticker and a bunch of papers from the woman at the reception desk.

He’s walked this route more times than he can count, but this time he can feel that something is wrong, different. On the top of the very first sheet the desk lady hands him, in bold black letters, are the printed words “Right-to-Die” and Steve already knows what is coming.

The woman gives him a half sympathetic look and reads off her scripted spiel. “The Hargrove boy has been unresponsive for six months now, with no signs of improvement in his condition. The recently instituted hospital ethics board wants you to seriously consider the contents of these forms.”

The words are so hollow, the look on her face mostly bored. Steve guesses this same speech was probably given to a thousand other people who’d come through this hospital, and it makes him feel nauseated just listening to it, her less than genuine pity as she reads off her clipboard, making it seem like she doesn’t even care what she is asking of him.

“It’s of course among your rights as representative to say no, but we want to remind you that he has no quality of life being artificially kept alive, and it might be best to let him go.”

“No, they told me he couldn’t feel anything. He’s not suffering.” Steve insists, and as much as he believes that he is right, the confidence in his voice is false. This was something he’d been thinking about every day for the last half a year. “You’ve kept him alive this long, right? That’s got to mean something.”

“Still, this is about him. We just want you to think about if keeping him alive is the right thing to do anymore when we can’t be sure what he’s going through. When he isn’t himself.”

Of course this was something he’d considered in his own mind, six months is a long time, and it was inevitable that a few times on his worst days, he’d have to think about pulling the plug. It was just so different hearing this nurse who didn’t know Billy insisting on it, it was just so impersonal, and it made him think about the hospital's greed, and how they probably just wanted to save money on ventilators and open up another bed.

Without saying another word to her, Steve walks away without the clipboard of papers, and off to room B-216. Of course he'd known this was coming. They’d been trying to drop hints since the moment Billy stopped being able to breathe on his own, but he’d been in denial. As long as Billy's heart was still beating, Steve had hope that he would recover if the doctors would just try.

Still, as he sits down in the chair next to Billy’s bed, he decides he doesn’t want to call Max today. He takes the desk woman's advice, as angry as it made him, and takes the time to truly reflect on the boy in that bed, with the feeding tube down his throat, the respirator breathing for him beside his bed, the IV in his neck, there because the veins in his arms had been so overused.

His hair is much longer now, just past his collarbones, but without maintenance, his blonde curls are knotted and dull. His skin is unnaturally pale, his freckles faded to nothing, and his whole body is littered with angry, dark red scars. The hole in the center of his chest still isn’t all the way healed, and the nurses are constantly fighting to keep it free of infection.

When he wakes up, they say he will be in immense pain and that he will have forgotten how to walk and talk and probably even breathe on his own. There was a chance too that his memory will have gaps in it, which could mean anything from forgetting what happened to him in July, to not even knowing his own name.

Basically if, no- when he wakes up, he won’t really be Billy.

Steve had always heard about and seen in the movies coma patients who twitch their fingers or moved their eyes, or who really give any signs of life, miraculously waking up and being themselves again, but Billy, he had only done the opposite.

At some point, he has to accept that Billy won’t be like one of those other patients, and, in the condition he is in, all pale skin and open wounds and zero signs of responsiveness, they were only prolonging his death. They had tried just about everything they could thanks to Steve’s willingness to cover the expenses, and, although he didn’t want to believe it, maybe just couldn’t accept it quite yet, it was, as the nurse had said, time to think about letting Billy go.

Not today though. He’d spend today with him at the very least, trying to push those thoughts to the back of his mind while he still could. The nurses used to say, when Billy had first been admitted and they still thought there was a chance of recovery, that Steve and Max, whenever she could come, should try talking to him, and Steve always did.

He never really has a whole lot to say, not since everything has been calming down recently. There were no more funerals to attend, no more grieving families to take a hot dish and his condolences to. The kids didn’t need him to watch them anymore, and Family Video had decided to lay him off until he didn’t have to make daily hospital commutes and he could work again. Basically, Steve’s entire world was Billy.

So it was only fair that Billy was what he usually talked about, reminiscing about everything they’d gotten to do together before the accident, telling him about what was happening with his sister now that she was getting older, and giving him updates on how many days it had been and how much he missed and loved him. One of the nurses had heard him say that once, seen him lean forwards and press a kiss to Billys forehead, but she had only turned away, pretending she hadn’t noticed.

Today though, it was much harder than usual to think of something to say to him. He always tried to leave all of the bad stuff at the door, didn’t think it would do Billy any good if he could even hear, to be listening to him always complaining or moping about their situation, but with death weighing heavy on his mind, what else was there to think about?

The anger and the remorse and the depression would be for when he went home tonight and downed a whole bottle of Fireball, Billy’s favorite whiskey, and called Robin drunk off his ass at two in the morning to tell her about how terrible he felt.

It was because he loved Billy with all of his heart that he wouldn’t put him through that. Even if it hurt more than anything else to see his love broken down and dying, which was, in Steve’s opinion, the worst thing that had ever happened to him, he always wore a smile on his face every day he walked into that hospital room.

As hard as that was, and as guilty as it made him feel to admit, Billy's sickness wasn’t the only thing making Steve miserable. He had also been through some unimaginable things himself while trapped in the Starcourt mall, and he didn't come out the other side the same.

Nightmares plagued him constantly, so that when he would eventually come back home from the hospital, he didn’t sleep more than fifteen minutes through the night. Being alone for too long warped his perception of reality, made him think everyone he knew and loved was gone, that he’d been abandoned or all his friends killed. He would constantly call to check on them, most of the time drunk and panicking, but they’d stopped picking up after the first few times. There were so many triggers too that could send him back to that night in an instant, where he’d just get stuck again.

And perhaps that is exactly why he can’t let Billy go so easily, because even if it is heartbreaking and makes him feel so empty inside being there with a version of his Billy who couldn’t speak to him or who he couldn’t hold, he was still alive. If he died now, Steve would have nothing. It would be no different from the losses everyone had suffered, the death of the chief of police and at least thirty other community members robbing them of their soundness of mind.

Letting go of Billy would just be another blow, to him and to the tight-knit community who had come so close together after the accident that rocked their little town. You wouldn't be able to tell from the fact that his room was always empty except for Steve or his sister, but the papers had revered him as a hero. Who he’d become after being hospitalized meant his death wouldn't just affect loved ones.

But more than any of that, he just didn’t want to give up on him. Pulling the plug meant sacrificing so many more moments they could have together, losing the chance to move on from what had happened. How could Steve ever know when it was the right time to do that?

When was it safe to say that Billy wouldn’t ever recover, and that they were just stretching out the inevitable? When could he feel right in letting his very best friend and the love of his life die? Deep down, past his initial reaction of shock and heartbreak, he knows he’ll never truly be ready to say goodbye, but that now was that time regardless.

Just like the nurses said, he wasn’t really Billy anymore. Who he’d been was a teenage boy with too much energy to burn, always getting into trouble and always in motion, bouncing his knee, twisting the ring on his middle finger or the locket around his neck, chain smoking cigarette after cigarette. It used to drive Steve insane how he wouldn’t sit still for anything, but now he would give anything just to have that back.

There was no personality left in him, no stupid jokes to cheer Steve up, no pestering his sister and her friends like a big brother does, nothing left in him at all that made him distinctly Billy. Steve wondered if maybe he had already given up.

If maybe, Billy wasn’t even in there at all anymore, and they were holding on to nothing just to feed their own selfishness. Steve wasn’t the most emotional of people, usually panicking before he got upset, but he could feel tears pricking at his eyes now, as he watched the slow rise and fall of Billy’s, or not Billy’s, chest, and listened to the beeps and hums of the machines that kept him going.

He knew what needed to be done. Just not today.

For now, he holds Billy's hand, unmoving and just warm enough that he could tell he was alive, and whispered to him anything that came to his mind.

If Billy could hear him, he knew he was probably tired of hearing the same stories over and over, thinking of Billy waking up and complaining about Steve being too boring made him chuckle to himself. An instant pang of regret tightens his chest, feeling guilty for being happy.

There was a really sweet nurse about the age of his mother who always checked in on him at the same time everyday, like he was the one with tubes and machines sticking out of his body. Her name was Dale, and she always peeked her head into the room around meal times to ask if he had been down to the cafeteria yet. Usually he hadn’t, and sometimes he still forgot to eat anyways, but it meant a lot to him.

Today though, she came all the way in the room, a sad look on her face, and he had to avoid her gaze entirely to keep himself from breaking down, choosing instead to focus on Billy’s slender fingers where he’d laced them through his own.

“Steve, honey, I know this is really hard for you, it’s hard for all of us when something like this happens, but you need to take care of yourself.” She was just being kind, but he wouldn’t hear it.

If this was going to be the last full day he’d ever spend with Billy, he was going to make it count. A soggy sandwich in the dingy old cafeteria wasn’t worth spending a single moment away from the other boy's bedside. He feels vaguely guilty about it, but he ignores the well meaning nurse, even as she says her generic condolences that all of them were trained to say.

He smooths out Billy's hair, brushing the part that always hung in his eyes to the side carefully, something Billy himself had always seemed to do when he was nervous. It reminds him of the time they tried to do each other's hair and Billy taught him how to make a braid, so he tells Billy about it.

When he hears the distant roar of a car's engine from the open window, it reminds him of the first time Billy drove him home in the now totaled beyond recognition Camaro, so he talks about that. A bird landing on the windowsill reminds him of sitting on Billy’s bed and talking about the seagulls and the beaches back in California where Billy had grown up, so he tells Billy that story too. The phone ringing at the receptionist's desk down the hallway reminds him of the time Billy had called him in the middle of the night to invite him out to the quarry, where they’d kissed for the first time and Steve clumsily asked him to make things official, so again, he told Billy all about it.

It's mostly a comfort to himself, keeping his mind off of the reality of the situation, but then the desk lady announces over the overhead system that visiting hours are over, and it’s time for him to go.

They had been giving him a lot of leeway here at Hawkins General, allowing him to visit every single day and sometimes with a 14 year old, which was strictly against the rules of the ICU. The end of visiting hours was a rule they always stood by though, and despite how much it crushed him to leave Billy by himself overnight, he always did it.

On his way out, he grabbed the stack of papers the receptionist tried to give him off of her desk. He would call Susan in the morning and ask her what she thought. He would try to involve her in the choice, since she’d technically claimed Billy as her dependent after her marriage to his father, who had given enough verbal and written agreements that he wanted nothing at all to do with his son while he was hospitalized that his wife could, and had, stepped in.

He went home that night with the thought in his head that this was the last time he’d do this, and by this time tomorrow, Billy would be dead.

#harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #billy x steve #ej writer #story by ej!#so excited to start sharing!#chapter two will be on tumblr later today!#it’s up on ao3 already if you wanna get ahead!

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iamtheblondestblonde · 4 years

Text

Clear as Day

Part One?

AN: Here’s some friends with benefits with Vince that I came up with in between cases at work. Vince if you’re reading this I’m so sorry please stop right here but also hmu I swear I just wanna be friends. I don’t know much about being a pediatric nurse (financial law anyone?) but I did volunteer at a hospital for a while so I hope it’s not super far off. I have plans and some stuff written for a part two that could be the same length so let me know you want one but it could be complete like this. (First person narrative but again no names or descriptions for the mc)

Warnings: language, definitely (also English isn’t my first language so perhaps some mistakes) and smut, also definitely (yes you read that right I did it again)

Word Count: 13.3k

I loved my job. I really did. I found it rewarding to be able to make tiny faces light up but I was currently on my second day of 12 hour back to back shifts, with yesterday closer to 14 hours, and I just really wanted to spend the entire day in bed.

It wasn’t even 7 a.m. yet and the streets of Toronto were already bustling, everybody preparing for a busy day. The sound of the ice cubes sloshing around in my coffee had become a staple background noise for the walk from the employee parking lot to the front entrance of the hospital, it soothed me.

As soon as I stepped into the building I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face, despite being sleep-deprived and basically needing a break already. There was a new drawing pinned to the wall by the nurses’ station and if the image of my smiling face wasn’t a dead giveaway already, it was hard to miss my name written on top of it in big bold letters.

It had started out as a joke really, a half-hearted complaint about me not getting as many drawings as others because most of my patients didn’t stay long in the ICU. From that moment on Lucas, my only long-term patient right now and all-time favorite teenager, had made sure that there was always a new one waiting for me every week. He was really good at drawing as well and I had an entire stack of amazing portraits, landscapes and lots of other random things at my apartment that I cherished dearly.

“He wanted to give it to you himself but then we had to give him something and he asked me to put it up so you’d see it as soon as you got in.” I turned around to see Mariah standing behind me, her face showing the same look of fondness as mine. Most of the nurses were pretty convinced that he had a crush on me and while I had to face lots of playful jabs because of that, she never gave me shit about it. She was probably about to head out and I knew that she only stayed behind to tell me this so I made sure to thank her.

“Is he up yet?”

“Surprisingly not, although he should be soon. He’s had a rough night and he stayed up way too long to draw but I doubt that anything could ruin this day for him, two dreams coming true and all.”

As soon as her words registered with me I mentally facepalmed, I’d completely forgotten that we’d get a visitor in a couple of hours. Because of Lucas’ surgery he hadn’t talked about hockey all that much lately, so I’d kind of forgotten that today he would get to meet one of his idols. I was about to respond something when I spotted Sydney waving me over.

Sydney was in charge of all of the pediatric nurses during the day shift, meaning that I had approximately three seconds to make my way over before she’d get impatient because she was always so busy. I waved goodbye to Mariah and speed walked over to Sydney, curious to see as to what she needed of me. She never beat around the bush, always coming straight to the core of things so I didn’t expect the conversation to last long and today was no different. She probably held the world record for fastest talker.

“So you know we’re getting a visitor today which means that I need someone to run a tight ship for me. You’re young and perky and I asked around and people love you. I know you helped with some of the Leafs the last time so you should already be familiar with the protocol. This is a big hospital and I want all of the kids on the list to get a chance to talk to Mr Dunn and that won’t happen if he gets lost so I want you to stay with him at all times, got it? I’ll get one of the on-calls to take over for you during everything.”

I couldn’t even get a word in before her pager went off and she jogged off after practically thrusting a file into my hands, unable to respond anything as she said something over her shoulder about this being a gift. I stared after her with my mouth hanging wide open, not really comprehending what had just gone down yet.

Being ‘young and perky’ had apparently just managed to get me demoted from a RN to a babysitter for yet another over-confident celebrity which didn’t really feel like a gift at all.

Lucas had told me all about how great this Vince apparently was but I had seen my fair share of famous people walking around these halls with camera teams following them, it was kind of a part of working with sick kids. There were exceptions of course, some of them were really nice but those were usually the ones that didn’t visit the kids for some good PR. While I was glad that it would make Lucas happy it didn’t really impress me anymore.

Besides I hadn’t really paid attention to hockey ever before, although it was hard to escape the hype right now with me being a St. Louis native. Some of my friends had sent me pictures of the parade from about a month ago but I hadn’t really paid much attention because I’d been slammed with work, not recognizing any of the players either way.

The file Sydney had given me consisted of a schedule for the day and a list of the kids that wanted to meet Vince, which was surprisingly long for this being a hospital in Toronto and him playing for the Blues. Even with my limited, read non-existent, hockey knowledge I was pretty sure that the team wasn’t liked very much in the league but I blamed it on them winning. Sydney was right, we would have to make good time to get through everybody.

I couldn’t exactly spend forever going through the file because I had mostly new admissions assigned to me and that meant lots of charting and running tests. I did spend my break reading through everything and trying to come up with a plan while shoveling food to my mouth at record speed however. Even if I wasn’t exactly thrilled with this assignment there was absolutely no way I wouldn’t be prepared. I would leave this hospital with the best possible impression of me, all things be damned.

It was kind of hard to focus on what was written in front of me though when I had three other nurses standing close by and ranting about how hot Vince apparently was. Lucas had shown me his hockey card a few times but I didn’t really know what he looked like because I was usually busy putting in a new IV line at the time, something he’d come to hate so talking about hockey was the perfect distraction. I was tempted to google him but before I got the chance my pager went off, signaling that the incoming convoy was about to arrive.

Unable to stop myself I checked my reflection quickly in one of the mirrors on my way out of the restroom. Call me vain but I didn’t want to end up in any pictures or videos looking like a total slob, even if it was just in the background. I’d taken the time to shower this morning but I definitely would’ve added more than the layer of concealer if I’d known about this earlier. At least I’d gotten my brows done and my lash extensions refilled a couple of days ago. Deciding that it was too late to do anything else about it I walked towards the front entrance with the file in my hands, making sure one last time that I knew where to take this Vince first.

It wasn’t hard to spot him in the group that arrived, the big shiny trophy he was lugging around kind of a dead giveaway.

He was good-looking, I had to give him that. Not in the rugged handsome way however, it was more of a defined features and beautiful way. The kind of look that got you dubbed as a pretty boy during high school, the polo shirt he was spotting only reinforcing that image.

I couldn’t really imagine him playing ice hockey. He was fit of course, but he wasn’t as big and bulky as I’d thought and if I had to guess I’d peg him as a baseball or lacrosse player, perhaps soccer even. If all hockey players looked like him however, I might have to catch a game or two after all.

I walked over with my big work smile plastered on my face, hand outstretched and he set the cup down to shake it as I introduced myself first. I caught him looking me up and down quickly but I wasn’t really one to talk because I’d done the same exact thing just seconds earlier.

“Hi I’m Vince, nice to meet you. Love the scrubs by the way”, he responded with a dazzling smile, gesturing at my outfit. Compliments weren’t a bad start, especially since I was wearing one of my favorites with an adorable blue and pink dinosaurs print.

“Thanks, one of my friends paints them for me.” Not willing to dwell too long on awkward small talk I continued: “Do you want me to get like a wheelchair for the cup or are you gonna carry it the entire time?”

“I think I’d get a lot of shit for not carrying it so thanks but no thanks.”

I quickly introduced myself to the rest of the team before herding everyone towards the elevators because he had to be upstairs in a couple of minutes. The camera team was more intimidating than I’d thought and I tried my best to distract myself from it as I pointed out different things around the hospital, only hoping that I wasn’t rambling without making any sense.

I was pretty sure that Vince could tell that I was uncomfortable because he kept our conversation going the whole time, obviously trying to make me laugh. His own laugh was hard to ignore and by the time we walked into the room where a livestream would take place the smile on my face was real. At least he wasn’t just easy on the eyes but he seemed fairly entertaining so far as well.

I watched him do the stream with Owen, who I’d spent some time in post-op with after his surgery a couple of weeks ago, and then stood close by as he talked to the long line of patients and people who were able to come up here. Sometimes when he saw a special needs kid getting closer he’d turn to me to ask for advice and tips and even all that ruckus didn’t stop him from keeping up a normal conversation with me.

He’d pick up right where we left off whenever there was a small break in between people and I wasn’t only amazed at his multitasking, but also at how amazing he was with the kids. He made me show him how to hold a baby and I think I’ll never be able to forget the image of a cute little baby boy in the cup.

“I ate cereal out of there this morning”, he whispered conspiratorially to me after the mother was finally done thanking him and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Of course you did. I hope you put it in the sink afterwards at least.” He gave me a wounded look, as if me insinuating he was not a clean person was hurting his ego and I laughed even more. I couldn’t really tell if he was trying to flirt with me or if he was like this with everyone but the mixed signals he’d sent me all afternoon were starting to get confusing.

“You think so lowly of me, I thought you’d know better by now.” With anyone else the wink he sent me as he delivered his line would have probably been overkill but somehow it worked for him.

The fact was that I did know better by now, even if it had only been just under two hours. I probably hadn’t been this wrong about something since I absolutely botched a math test in tenth grade thinking I aced it and he had turned out to be nothing like I had imagined him to be. Perhaps the early morning sleep-deprived me lacked the sense of being able to assess character that I usually had.

When I told him that it was time to leave he looked at me with a puppy eyes, pleading with me to let him stay a little longer. Working in pediatrics I got this a lot but somehow it had a whole different effect on me coming from a 6 feet tall hockey player with lips that were practically made for pouting.

“But there’s still some people left that I haven’t gotten to.”

“There’s also some kids that couldn’t come up here because they are too sick waiting for you in the ICU and you won’t be able to see all of them in time if we don’t go over there now. There’s a tight schedule for a reason you know.”

“Fuck the schedule, I’ll just stay longer,” he said with a cheeky grin but not before covering the ears of the little girl in front of him with his hands so she wouldn’t hear him curse. At this point I felt like it was way too easy for him to make me laugh but at the same time I didn’t really want to do anything against it. These halls had seen worse things than people laughing after all.

“You fit right in with all of my patients, you know that? And don’t you have plans with the cup for this evening?”

I didn’t get an answer straight away because Vince took his time to talk to the last five families left in line before we made our way back to the elevators. I had kind of forgotten about the camera crew that was there to document it all until all of us were crammed back inside the tight space, my shoulder brushing against Vince’s arm so I wouldn’t bump into any of the expensive equipment.

“I promised to make an appearance at this club but they’ll wait for me. By the way, you should come as well.” At first I thought he was joking, surely he had to be as we’d only met, but his try at a winning smile told me he was anything but. Again, was this him flirting or was I losing my mind?

“Shooting your shot while you’re in my good graces because of the kids, I see. I’m gonna have to disappoint though, I’m stuck here till seven and then I have another 12 hour shift coming up tomorrow so I can have a four day weekend.” I had already kind of accepted that we would never see each other again, especially with me turning him down now, and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t a bit sad about it.

“That sounds brutal. I’m throwing another party at my condo on Saturday if you’re free then.”

“I’m actually driving up to a lake house with some friends for the weekend, sorry.” By now I really was interested because he seemed fun and I wanted that for my last few weeks up here but his timing was truly the worst.

“Wow, you’re really making me work for it,” he let out a teasing chuckle then, running his hand up and down his neck in a very distracting move as he contemplated his next words “I’m assuming you have a busy week next week as well so perhaps next Saturday?”

“Ummm.. I already agreed to meet some friends at a bar on that Saturday,” his face fell at that so I couldn’t help but add “but you’re welcome to meet us there if you want to see how the working class parties. Bring some of your friends as well if you want.”

The smile he gave me at that was equivalent to that of a five year old patient when they get told that they could have a slice of the chocolate cake and it made me glad that there was no one monitoring my heart rate at the moment.

The next day was just another regular day at work and while I had lots of fun yesterday, I was glad to be back in my comfort zone. Working days was anything but boring and I had been so busy that my watch told me I’d already reached my step goal for the day halfway through my shift.

I finally had some time to update the charts while sitting down at the nurses’ station, desperately hoping for some down time soon so I could perhaps even grab another cup of coffee to stop me from climbing into a free bed and taking a nap right there.

I’d seen many people pray in this building and not all of them got what they wished for but somehow today must have been my lucky day because just as I’d finished that thought someone cleared their throat in front of me. I was ready to answer some questions from worried parents but what I totally didn’t expect was Vince standing there with two coffee cups.

“I thought I’d drop this off as a thank you for babysitting me yesterday and I had a feeling that you’d need it”, he said before giving me one of his dazzling smiles. He looked good in a black t shirt and some jeans, his perfectly styled hair in contrast to the messy bun currently on top of my head. That is if the rat’s nest could even still be called a bun.

“Vince Dunn you just keep on surprising me”, I responded with a breathless laugh, not really knowing what else to say at the sweet gesture. What do you say to a good-looking hockey player that not only asks you to spend time with him three times but also takes the time out of his day for this?

Well, besides thanks, obviously.

Vince handed me one of the cups and I took a sip before looking up at him in surprise.

“How do you know the way I like my coffee?”

Instead of answering, he pointed at something behind me and I turned around to see the coffee order list I’d started a while ago in case someone decided to grab some for everyone, my name on top of the sheet.

“I noticed it yesterday in passing, I swear I’m not a stalker or anything.” He blushed at this and it was so cute and unlike his otherwise smooth self that I couldn’t just let him off the hook.

“You know, that’s exactly what a stalker would say”, I responded with a sly smile and while his face turned even more red he burst out laughing. By now we had the attention of every nurse close by and I was pretty sure that all of them were eavesdropping but who could blame them, I’d do the exact same thing. People here lived for the drama, kind of a given with how much time we spent in here because it didn’t really leave much space for a life outside of these halls. Especially if said drama involved a very hot hockey player.

“I’m changing the topic now before I embarrass myself in front of you even further just so you know. I did actually come here for one more thing,” he trailed off before bending down to pick up a bag that I hadn’t noticed before, too distracted by the guy in front of me. “I brought this for Lucas so he has something to show his friends once he gets back on the ice.” He pulled out a Blues’ jersey and turned it around so I could see that it was one of his, complete with a signature and a small message.

Lucas had been an avid hockey player himself up until his kidneys basically decided that they didn’t want to work anymore a while ago. Things had gotten so bad that he had to permanently stay in intensive care with us until after months of dragging people in here to get tested they finally found a donor in a family friend last week. At least his surgery had gone well and while I’d miss having him around, I was glad that he’d finally get discharged to recover at home later today.

I took another sip of the coffee before getting up and walking next to Vince to Lucas’ room. Lucas greeted me with a smile, which only grew after he saw who was following me into the room. Despite having struggled for so long he had always been in a good mood, even when he had to celebrate his fifteenth birthday in the hospital a few weeks ago.

“Look at you, it’s your last day in here and things just keep on getting better.” Vince and Lucas did the handshake they’d come up with yesterday, something that was absolutely necessary as a hockey player or so I’d been told.

Lucas had grown up in Chicago and he’d seen Vince play for the team there but had only really started paying attention after the apparently best fight ever Vince had gotten into at one of the games. Obviously not my words. The connection between the two of them had been instant and all the hockey talk had my head spinning more than during the first few weeks of nursing school so I made a quick exit, leaving them to it.

“I bet every nurse wishes they could trade spots with you right now, me included by the way”, Rachel, my partner in crime since day one of our college classes together, said as soon as I returned to my spot at the station.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”, I responded, acting clueless. With a raised brow she reached for my coffee cup, spinning it around to reveal a small note written on the side of it that I hadn’t even noticed before.

“You sure about that? This fine specimen of a hockey player just gave you his number and you still act like there’s nothing going on? Besides, everyone saw you two getting all chummy yesterday.”

I snatched the cup out of her hands, quickly checking if the coast was clear before pulling out my phone to add his number to my contacts while keeping my head down so I wouldn’t have to look her in the eyes.

“Oh wipe that shit-eating grin off your face. All I get is annoying parents and you get hot dads and famous athletes hitting on you out left and right. Like leave some for the rest of us girl, it’s not fair.”

Even though I’d shot Vince a quick text so he could have my number as well, I never really expected anything more than his response that he’d saved it.

To say I was surprised when he texted me the following week was definitely an understatement. It wasn’t a booty call either, no, he’d texted me in the middle of the day asking if I was working days or nights this week.

Me: days as usual but I’m actually on-call today, got luckyy

Dunner: so you’re home right now?

Okay so perhaps this was a booty call after all. Not that I particularly minded.

While his first response had been pretty fast he took a little longer to answer after I told him that I was home indeed. Laying on the couch in an oversized shirt and yoga pants rewatching some Grey’s Anatomy on to be exactly. Almost the same as working. The rainy weather set the perfect mood for a lazy day in though so I hadn’t moved from my spot ever since returning from the gym this morning.

Dunner: this Chinese place near me has a special two for one offer today and I wanted to bring you some to work

I still wasn’t sure if this was him flirting but I’d also never had somebody I’d only met a week ago offer to bring me food to the hospital so he had to be, right? I sent a screenshot of the message to Rachel but I knew that I couldn’t count on her responding to it anytime soon, seeing as she was actually at work right now. I decided to be forward, telling him that I wouldn’t complain about some good food either way.

Inviting someone who was basically a stranger over to your apartment generally wasn’t exactly the best idea, but I counted on the impression I had of him so far and the reputation he surely had to uphold as a NHL player. Besides, we had lots of medical equipment scattered around the apartment so surely I’d find a syringe or something to defend myself if needed.

Dunner: I’ll be over in 30 so try not to get called in before then

True to his word the bell didn’t ring much later. I’d debated making an effort and changing but I wasn’t about to wear jeans or a skirt to hang out so that didn’t leave many options. Brushing your hair wasn’t nothing either so that counted in my opinion.

Vince had gone through the same train of thought as well apparently because he looked super cozy in some sweatpants and a hoodie that had gotten slightly wet, presumably from his walk from his car to the building as our parking situation was really shitty. He stepped inside and reached up to run his hand through his damp hair before shaking his head, making little droplets of water fly in every direction.

“This is why they don’t allow dogs in here”, I laughed, gesturing to my shirt that now looked like an abstract splash painting.

“Let me make it up to you with some of the best food you’ve ever had because I brought lots” was his response as he lifted the bag of take out while slipping off his shoes by the door, hair now sticking in all directions.

“Alright Dunner, show me what you got”, I said with a wink over my shoulder as I made my way into the kitchen, continuing my bold streak from earlier. I had also learned by now that nicknames were even more important than handshakes as a hockey player. I was pretty sure I’d heard him mumble something along the line of ‘Gladly’ but I was already too far ahead of him to be absolutely certain.

“You’re watching Grey’s Anatomy? Isn’t it like crazy inaccurate?”, he asked with a look at the TV in the living room as I hadn’t bothered to pause the episode.

“Yeah of course it is but I still like it somehow. It’s like the hospital equivalent of bad trash TV shows so it’s kind of my guilty pleasure.”

“Okay give me a quick summary of what I need to know for this episode so we can watch it while we eat.”

I looked at him like he was crazy but he urged me on, looking up at me expectantly from where he’d sat down on the couch. Eventually I gave in, trying to keep explanations as short as possible but even then it took me quite a while to get through, yet Vince never once looked like he was bored. He didn’t lose his interest in it after that either, only looking away from the screen to decide what he was going to eat next, all of the choices delicious just like he promised.

Stuffed like a turkey on Thanksgiving the both of us stayed unmoved on the couch watching episode after episode. Somehow my legs had ended up on his lap and his hands were resting on my knees, drawing slow circles as we made eye contact from time to time. Every few minutes his hand would inch up a little and with him biting his lip as he did it there was no way I would stop him, any doubts about his intentions long gone by now. I couldn’t stop the smile spreading on my lips as his hand finally reached the top of my thigh, softly kneading the sensitive part on the inside. If I was into hand porn, I would have orgasmed already at the sight of his hands wrapped around my thigh.

“What are you grinning about?”, Vince asked with an easy smile himself, looking at me in a way that told me that Meredith had long lost his attention.

“Just waiting for you to finally make a move.”

“I was trying to be somewhat of a gentlemen but I really can’t help myself with you wearing those pants..”

“Well you seem to be awful at it so don’t be one then”, I teased back feeling confident yet again.

In a flash he had somehow - I’ll probably keep wondering about the details for the rest of my life - managed to lift me up enough to shift me so I was straddling his lap, now turned on by his manhandling and the way he was currently looking up at me. For a second both of us stared at each other, trying to figure out if this was really going to happen. Vince lifted his hand from my hip to my face, slowly pulling me down towards him.

Our lips didn’t even get the chance to connect before my phone started ringing.

I jumped up from his lap, immediately recognizing the ringtone I had set for all work calls and almost kneeing him in the crown jewels in the process. One look at my screen told me that it was an emergency which prompted me to run into my room cursing. I quickly pulled on the pair of scrubs I’d laid out in the morning, one hand still pulling the top down while the other was trying to attach my badge properly by the time I made it back into the living room. Vince hadn’t even moved from the couch yet, eyes wide and legs still comfortably spread apart, a sight that made me want to climb back on top of him but unfortunately I couldn’t do that.

“I’m so sorry but I gotta go, you don’t need to rush though. Feel free to keep on watching if you want but please don’t rob us and make sure the door is closed if you decide to leave after all, it locks automatically. The food was delicious thank you very much and bye!”

I barely heard him saying bye as well before I was already through the door, not really looking forward to spending the next few hours in the chaos that usually came with emergency calls. Especially after how much I’d enjoyed spending time with Vince and how much I wished that we would’ve just skipped all of the testing-the-waters stuff and would’ve just went at it like madmen.

The weekend couldn’t arrive fast enough and by the time it was Saturday I was ready to abandon all of my plans so I could sleep the rest of the day. I’d gotten in late last night after working overtime and I probably would have stayed in bed till noon if it wasn’t for Rachel and Mariah bursting into my room at nine in the morning. At least they didn’t wake me at the crack of dawn and the cake they were carrying to my bed looked pretty delicious as well.

“Look at you, another year older and yet still sexy as fuck”, Rachel exclaimed as she hopped onto the bed beside me after they’d finished their horrible rendition of Happy Birthday. Mariah settled on the other side of me and I guess my friends knew me well enough because we didn’t move from that position except to grab some more food and booze until it was time to get ready for tonight. Best roommates ever.

“You need to look extra hot tonight, I want Vince to lose his shit when he sees you.”

Ever since I’d sent the screenshot to Rachel and told her about the couch situation, she had been on my back about the thing. Something about me needing to bag rich hot athletes for her sake. I didn’t even argue with her anymore, only rolling my eyes in sync with Mariah whenever she brought it up.

To my surprise Vince hadn’t been deterred by my hasty exit a few days ago, something that had definitely surprised me. It wasn’t the first time that my job had cockblocked me and it definitely won’t be the last and I’d met more than my fair share of guys who were absolutely not into that at all. The fascination with nurses died really fast once people realized how much time we spent on the job.

Vince and I had texted constantly since he spent the day with me and he had somehow managed to make casual conversation with a flirty undertone the entire time. We’d already established that neither of us was looking for anything serious right now but I had decided that I would definitely not say no to some fun with him.

Some birthday sex would be great for starters. I let Rachel curl my hair while I focused on perfecting my make up because I wanted to look good tonight, not just for Vince but also because by next weekend I’d already be packed so this was really my last big hurrah before moving back home.

The thing about spending most of my days make up free in sports bras, comfortable panties and running shoes was that if I did bother to go out, I put in a lot of effort. I was determined to turn heads tonight so I pulled on a black lace bodysuit that practically presented my boobs on a silver tray, a pair of jeans that made my ass look spectacular and some black stilettos that I hoped wouldn’t kill my feet in a few hours. I had to go braless under the bodysuit, the mesh part on the back making that very obvious and I had a feeling that Vince wouldn’t exactly mind either.

“Girl I’d totally bang you because you look so hot but that outfit shows off everything that’s wrong with you”, Rachel said as we all examined ourselves one last time in front of the full-length mirror in my room and took pictures. I shot her a confused look.

“Wait what’s wrong with me?”

“Well for one your ass looks bangin and so do your boobs and I’m pretty sure that I could tell if you had a dick wearing that and people with dicks are my type soooo..”, she trailed off and both Mariah and I turned towards her with an incredulous look before bursting out laughing, all the day drinking taking its toll already. It wasn’t exactly new for Rachel to stop making any sense once she had some alcohol in her but it was still just as entertaining every single time.

“I can’t believe you’re complaining about her not having a dick right now”, Mariah sighed and I couldn’t stop giggling at my idiotic friends.

“I’m not complaining! I’m just saying that I need a dick to-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Just – just for once in your life be at least somewhat normal please”, Mariah interrupted her exasperated and the both of them continuing to bicker still had me laughing by the time we climbed into the back of our Uber.

We were the last to arrive of course, because Rachel had insisted on us being fashionably late so by the time we made it inside the bar I could already spot my friends sitting in the back. She had also insisted on me wearing a stupid Birthday Girl sash, reminding me how many free drinks it would get me, but I drew the line at the tiara she had pulled out of her purse as well. I was too old for the full 21st birthday look after all.

After I was hugged by everyone and had received all of the birthday wishes and presents I realized that Vince wasn’t among the group, which was weird because we’d been texting all day and he had asked to confirm the time and place again just this morning.

It was as if my thought made him appear because soon I felt two hands gently grab my waist while his cologne infiltrated my senses. He spun me around and the force of the move had me reach out to rest my hands on his shoulders so I wouldn’t fall over. I knew he had done that on purpose.

We were standing so close that we would have definitely gotten in trouble if this were a middle school dance and the way he looked down at me right now made me curse everything that came to my mind because I just wanted to drag him to the nearest bathroom so he could bend me over the counter but of course that wouldn’t be acceptable in front of all my friends.

“Why didn’t you tell me that today is your birthday? Now I’m going to have to make up for the fact that I didn’t get you a present.”

I had a feeling that I wouldn’t mind whatever this making up entailed, if the way he tightened his grip while looking at me as if he was thinking about bathroom counters as well was any indicator.

“Because you don’t just tell people that it’s your birthday, that’s weird.” He pulled me even tighter then, wrapping his arms around me and wishing me a happy birthday after giving me a kiss on the cheek that gave me goosebumps. Before he had the chance to pull away however, I leaned up on my tippy toes because even with heels he was still taller than me and whispered “I can’t wait for the making up for it part though” in his ear.

He groaned in response and he dropped his hands to give my hips a squeeze before reluctantly letting go of me. Only now did I spot the two guys behind him that were all watching us with amused expressions, which had to be the friends he said he’d bring. Introductions were quick and I didn’t even bother to introduce everyone to Vince and his gang because the group was so big that the three of them wouldn’t be able to remember many names either way.

We settled into one of the booths and Rachel practically pushed me into the seat next to Vince, not that I minded of course. Conversation flowed easily, as did the drinks, and soon I found myself climbing out of the booth because I had just about consumed my body weight in liquid and desperately needed to go to the bathroom for something that unfortunately wasn’t sex. Walking over I could feel a slight buzz already but not to the extent that would make me stumble in my heels, perfect for a night out.

By the time Mariah and I returned I could tell that another one of Rachel’s plans was in action because now there was one more person sitting at our table, meaning there wasn’t enough space left for both Mariah and I. I was about to move to sit with some other friends in the booth next to ours when Vince, who was conveniently seated at the edge of our booth, told me to sit on his lap and that was an offer I would never turn down.

He grabbed my hips to pull me closer and onto his lap as he said: “Don’t worry I won’t bite.”

I couldn’t resist messing with him though, so I purposefully shifted closer to his crotch and leaned towards him so only he could hear me as I whispered: “What if I want you to though?” I could tell he was trying to suppress a groan and he gripped me even tighter, pulling me back into him.

Poor Vince, his balls were going to be the same color as a Blues jersey soon enough.

Unfortunately I couldn’t elaborate to make the situation even worse for him because I was being pulled into the conversation at the table. I could feel him growing hard underneath my ass though and the fact that I was able to rile him up so easily really did wonders for my self-confidence..

After I could tell that he had calmed down again I decided to put him out of his misery. Well, kind of. Me leaning across one of the pool tables as I took my shot gave him a perfect view of my cleavage or of me bending over after all, depending on where he stood.

“Are you always this bad?”, I asked after he missed yet another shot.

“No, usually I’m average at least but I guess I’m a little bit distracted right now.” He didn’t even try to hide him staring at my boobs as I took my turn. We’d both long dropped any pretense about where this was headed. After I made my shot I walked around the table to get a better angle for the next one, accidentally brushing up against Vince who now had a perfect view of my ass.

“I hope you’re only average at pool and not at anything else”, I teased him with a look over my shoulder after watching the ball roll into the hole the way I’d planned before straightening up again.

“Let me take you home so my neighbors can confirm me being anything but average”, he responded, his voice deep as he moved next to me, one of his big hands resting on my lower back to play with the fabric there, the heat of his hands practically burning my skin as I looked up at him.

Our intense eye contact was interrupted by one of the waitresses who walked up to the pool table sheepishly with a drink on her tray.

“Hey, that guy over there sent you this and I’m supposed to tell you to come over to him so you don’t have to, uh, keep playing with a - um - loser. His words not mine, sorry.” She pointed to a guy a few tables over who was decently good looking but radiated Asshole Energy off of him, his incredibly rude move not really helping either. Even if it wasn’t for Vince standing next to me I wouldn’t have touched him with a ten foot pole.

Vince had tensed up at the words and I watched him ball his hands into his fists, every muscle in his body tightening with anger. I had no doubt that because of his hockey experience he could hold his own in a fight but it wasn’t something I needed tonight. I thanked the waitress before setting the drink down and making a show of turning towards Vince, one hand trailing up from his biceps to the back of his head so I could interrupt the stare off he was currently having with the other guy.

“Don’t worry, I’m flattered that I seem to be able to distract you so much. To be honest I can’t really concentrate either because now I really want you to make me scream so loud that your neighbors file noise complaints.” Vince choked slightly and then reached for the drink that was sitting next to me, taking three big gulps while looking at me, his eyes dark.

He then grabbed my hand and I didn’t miss the smug look he threw at the other guy over my shoulder before pulling me towards the backdoor of the bar, the pool game abandoned without a second thought. The air outside had cooled down a bit by now but I didn’t even get the chance to acknowledge that because Vince had me pushed against the wall in a second, one hand resting next to my head while the other reached up to cup my face, dropping his head for a kiss.

All this teasing had finally led to this.

It was rough and yet sensual at the same time, his lips demanding and it didn’t take long until his tongue licked along my bottom lip, asking for entrance. He then deepened the kiss even further and I reached up to bury my hands in his stupidly perfect and soft hair, eliciting a throaty groan. When he pushed one of his legs in between mine I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me in turn at the delicious friction, followed by yet another one as he dropped his head to suck along my neck. I could feel how hard he was and it turned me on beyond imagination.

The thought that I would probably let him fuck me in this alley right now brought me back down to earth because this was not how I envisioned my night going.

“Vince, hold up”, I murmured and as soon as my words registered with him he pulled away, both of us panting.

“What’s wrong?”

I laughed at his expression, he looked at me as if he was truly worried that he’d overstepped a boundary. As if I hadn’t thrown hints left and right for the last couple of days. His swollen lips made it hard to concentrate because I just wanted to sink my teeth into them until he groaned again the way he had only seconds ago and I silently cursed his stupid perfect lips. I wondered what damage they could do.

“Nothing’s wrong, nothing at all. I just wanted to say let’s go back inside for like another hour or so and then we can take off.” The smile that quickly spread on his face made it obvious that he was going to say something not-PG-13 before he opened his mouth again to ask:

“Do you think your friends would mind if I dragged you home right this second?”

I had to laugh at that but it quickly died in my throat as he moved his hands to my hips to pull me close again before crashing his lips back onto mine. The going back to the others part would apparently be slightly delayed but with the way his lips and body moved against mine right now I would probably agree to anything if it meant getting to stay right in this position a bit longer.

This time it was less rushed and frantic and instead he took his time to explore every inch of my mouth while his hands wandered my body. Mine were roaming as well, from the neck down his muscular shoulders around to the front before finally creeping up his back below his shirt. I enjoyed the way I could feel his muscles tense under my touch but eventually we had to pull away from each other. We’d spent way too much time out here as it is.

“Let’s go back inside, the faster we get back the sooner we can leave and besides they’re probably wondering what we’re doing out here so long.”

The smug looks we received once we made our way back to the tables after I fixed my hair and make up and Vince did whatever he had to do to conceal his massive hard on made it clear that everyone had a good idea of what had gone on outside though. I’m pretty sure Rachel would have high fived me if it weren’t for the people sitting between us.

I sat on Vince’s lap again and this time it was torture for the both of us to wait until it was finally an acceptable time to make a getaway. I let Rachel take all the presents for me and she made Vince give her his address and phone number before she let him pull me into the back of an Uber.

I was pressed against him for the entire ride, his hand resting way higher on my leg than technically publicly acceptable. With every turn or bump in the road he accidentally brushed my core and at more than one point I had to hide my face in his broad chest so the driver wouldn’t hear the soft moans that couldn’t be stopped. I could tell that he was trying his best not to get too handsy as not to cause a scene but once we were alone in the elevator of his building all bets were off.

He walked me back against the doors, pushing one of his legs in between my own again and kissed me with a force that made me glad that I had tons of metal behind me as leverage to push back. He only pulled away once the little ‘ding’ could be heard and even then he only held off until he had me inside his apartment, barely waiting a second before he shrugged off his jacket, quickly moving onto mine.

Somehow we managed to make it onto the couch without breaking apart our kiss and I barely had time to admire his floor to ceiling windows before he pulled me close until I was straddling his lap. His lips were working on my neck again and I reminded him to not leave any marks there because I had to work on Monday morning, which only prompted him to move down lower, sucking at the skin right above the lace of my bodysuit.

“No one will see those then”, he murmured against my breasts and I moaned as he reached up to palm them through the material. By the time he was done I had several purple marks littering my cleavage and I really needed to see more of him so I motioned for him to take his shirt off, watching in awe as he reached back to pull it over his head in the perfect way only guys managed to.

His body could only be described as a work of art and I could tell that he worked really hard for it as I traced the outline of his abs, muscles contracting and goosebumps rising at my touch. The city lights made for the perfect lighting and the way his skin glowed in their reflection belonged in a museum if ever captured.

Vince reached for the button of my jeans and looked at me as if to ask if I was okay with that. I nodded before standing up, trying to get out of my jeans and heels in a quick but still somewhat sexy motion but I probably succeeded only halfway. He didn’t seem deterred by my struggle at all, the hungry look in his eyes never once vanishing.

As soon as I stood upright again Vince reached up to trace the lace embellishments, slowly moving his hands down lower towards where I really wanted them. Considering the fact that the bodysuit had already been pretty revealing in itself there wasn’t really much ‘new’ skin to see so far but he still looked at me with an intensity that almost made me shiver.

He reached to pull me down on him again but instead I surprised him by sinking down to my knees in front of him, his breath audibly hitching in his throat. For a second he was silent but as soon as I poked my tongue out to trace the ‘V’ on his lower stomach he let out a low moan, throwing his head back.

“Impatient much?”, I teased him, pleasantly surprised at my ability to make him almost lose his shit without even really doing anything.

“You have no idea. I’ve thought about this for days”, he admitted and I only smiled in return, moving to pull his jeans down along with his boxers without revealing that I had done the same. He got up to step out of both while I was focused on watching his dick bounce with the movement, amazed at the size of it.

As soon as he made himself comfortable again I grabbed the base with one hand while resting the other one on his thigh as I moved to lick the drops of precum that adorned the tip. When my tongue made contact he moved one of his hands into my hair, holding it back so he could get a better view.

“Fuck, you look so good like this”, he cursed when I finally wrapped my lips around him, taking the head into my mouth while swirling my tongue around him and taking him a bit further. I removed my lips and I could tell he was about to protest but any words died in his mouth when I started sucking his balls, reaching up to pump his length that was already slick from my spit with my hand.

He seemed to find his voice again once I licked up the underside of his dick but it was only a string of curses that turned into moans when I took him into my mouth as far as I could, my nose touching his pelvic bone. I relaxed my throat and swallowed around him, my name falling from his lips again and again as I reached up to massage his balls at the same time. I looked up to see him watching me with his pupils blown, hair sticking in all directions from running his hands through it so many times and his mouth slightly open. His arms were spread out beside him on the back of the couch and I wanted to take a picture to commemorate the moment, wanting to remember this forever. He had definitely never looked better and no one could convince me otherwise.

The hand in my hair helped me set a rhythm as I bobbed my head while licking around him and Vince was a moaning and cursing mess above me. It didn’t take long before he quite literally pulled me off him, running his hand across his face and taking a few calming breaths.

“You’re incredible but I don’t want to cum yet”, he finally murmured when he helped me back up and I wasn’t sure if he was only complimenting my blowjob-skills or more but the way he was looking at me right now made any thought besides wanting him inside me disappear.

“Vince I need you”, I practically begged and he quickly nodded before standing up with me still in his lap, reaching out to grab the back of my thighs to prevent me from slipping down. He somehow managed to walk up the stairs with me still wrapped around him while I trailed kisses along his collar bones and it was probably the hottest non-sexual thing I’d ever experienced with a guy.

He turned on a soft light once inside his room and while I would have loved to have a look around I was pretty distracted by the way he literally threw me on the bed before crawling on top of me, my legs falling apart to make space for him as if it was the most natural thing on earth.

Vince kissed down my breasts before suddenly stopping somewhere above my belly button.

“Okay I have to admit I’m a bit lost here, as hot as you look in it how the fuck do I get this thing off?” I probably shouldn’t laugh in such a somewhat serious situation but his helpless expression did nothing to stop the giggles that escaped my mouth. He was smiling as well and I was glad that we could laugh about the slight hiccup without it turning awkward.

I quickly reached down to snap open the buttons before sitting up and pulling the piece of lace over my head, discarding it in some corner of his room now completely naked.

“Much better”, he murmured, one of his hands reaching out to grab a hold of my boobs while the other one wrapped around my back, lowering us back onto the mattress. Eventually he trailed his kisses over the part of my skin that was marked up by him until he sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, his hand taking care of the other one.

Slowly but surely he kissed his way down my body, skipping over the part where I needed him most to suck along the inside of my thighs. The sensation rushed through me, my core already throbbing from days of built up expectations and I let out a whine. I was tempted to try and close my legs so I could at least get some kind of friction but his shoulders between them made that impossible.

“Patience baby, don’t you know that good things come to those who wait?”, he murmured and I shuddered at the feeling of his breath fanning across my heat. I didn’t even have the time to think about the fact that he had just called me baby or that I was actually a firm believer in good things happening to those who worked for them because he reached down to drag one of his fingers through my folds and all thoughts left my body.

“Shit, you’re so wet already”, he said softly but I was unable to give him any response besides a frantic nod and another desperate whine.

I’d fantasized about this for the last couple of days of course but nothing came close to the reality of one of his thick fingers dipping into my core. He teased my entrance for a bit, only pushing inside to his first knuckle but then I whined again and he pushed it in as far as he could. I was so lost in the feeling that I hadn’t even noticed him moving back up my body until he littered the valley between my breasts with heated kisses.

“So tight. I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

As if the words he’d moaned into my ear weren’t already enough to make any coherent thoughts disappear, he added a second finger and I arched my back into him, the change of angle just right in a way that had me gripping the sheets so tightly that my knuckles turned white. He reached dropped down to tease my nipples, sucking and licking them expertly while his hand thrust up into me.

My moans were already filling the room but then he started circling my clit with his thumb and I knew that I wouldn’t last much longer, the anticipation and desperation definitely helping to speed things along. He looked up at me to watch my reactions and the sight of him with his mouth latched onto my breast was almost enough to send me over the edge by itself.

“I’m so close Vince, please don’t stop”, I begged and this seemed to spur him on further, his movements turning even more eager as he continued to place sloppy kisses along my skin. It was the combination of everything he was doing to me that finally brought me over the edge, the release so sweet after needing it for so long.

He made sure to extend my orgasm as long as possible, only pulling his hand away after I whimpered slightly, the stimulation a bit much now. His softly kissed his way back down and along my thighs now and I could tell that he wasn’t quite done with me yet.

“How’s the birthday girl feeling right now?”, he asked with a teasing smile and normally I probably would have smacked him for this but right now I would tolerate it because I was still in my blissful post-orgasmic state.

“Amazing so far, could do better though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm, I’m pretty sure I was promised some making up for the lack of a present and I don’t think we’ve reached that point yet.”

“Well excuse me then while I go back to work.” And with that he flattened his tongue and boldly licked one long stripe across my slit.

He started out slowly and I was glad because I was still a bit sensitive from my last orgasm, lapping at my entrance and pushing his tongue inside of me, making me gasp. It didn’t take long however until he grabbed my hips to pull me closer and onto his mouth, pushing my legs up to expose me even further to him and ultimately giving him better access.

When he sucked my clit into his mouth I couldn’t help but arch my back off the mattress again, burying my hands in his hair as he reached up to hold me still. This guy’s lips weren’t just pretty, they were apparently amazingly talented as well.

He replaced his tongue with one of his thick fingers, slowly pushing in and soon his name fell off my lips in a religious chant as he added yet another one, curling them upwards for maximum pleasure. I could feel my high coming from a mile away and Vince apparently must have too by the way I was grinding myself against his face because he quite literally dove back in, determined to shatter my word.

And shatter my world he did.

I was pretty sure I would have floated away as I reached my high if it wasn’t for Vince’s hand across my stomach keeping me grounded. My legs were still shaking with the aftershocks of one of the arguably - no hands down - best orgasms I’d had while getting head in my life. By the time I was finally able to open my eyes again he was wiping his face before grinning down at me.

“You look so fucked out already and we haven’t even gotten to that part yet”, he teased and I let out a chuckle before pushing at his chest. Leave it to him to make fun of me after he was the one who put me in this situation. Not that I was complaining of course.

“Don’t worry, it’s a good look on you. One that I’d definitely like to see more often.” He leaned down to nip at my neck then, his cock prodding at my thigh.

“If you keep doing that you definitely will”, I responded with an airy laugh, still kind of breathless. All talk died down after that however when he captured my lips with his again as he crawled on top of me, settling between my legs. Kissing him was definitely addicting and the fact that I could taste myself while doing so only made it ten times more hot.

Vince rolled his hips against mine, groaning into my mouth when his cock dragged against my skin while I couldn’t stop the moan escaping my lips either. Breaking the kiss he pulled back in a way that had him in a push-up position above me, giving me a moment to enjoy the view. His hair was sticking in all kinds of directions, his pupils so blown that they almost seemed black instead of the usual beautiful green and his muscles were flexing from holding the position.

“Still want to keep going?”, he asked and in my daze it took me a second to realize that this was him asking for consent. I had no doubt that he wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want him to but this, him offering to stop when he had done so much for me already while not getting off yet in return, was sweet. Especially since I had made it more than obvious that stopping was definitely not on my mind.

I moved to flip us over then, straddling his thighs and wrapping my hand around his dick, pumping him a few times and in case that wasn’t confirmation enough for him I leaned down to whisper a “definitely” in his ear.

“Condoms?”

“Top drawer on your right.”

Only because we weren’t in the middle of his huge bed was I able to reach said drawer, grabbing one of the foil packets out of the box and ripping it open with my teeth before rolling it down on him. I scooted up enough to line his cock with my entrance and while I tried to watch Vince as I sunk down on him the way my eyes fluttered shut at the sensation was out of my control.

While there had definitely been enough foreplay to make the sliding in part easy it was still quite a stretch, one so amazing however that it had the both of us moaning at the same time.

“Shit you feel incredible”, he breathed and I nodded my head in agreement, too lost in the pleasure to form any coherent sentences. Rolling my hips against him created some amazing friction that had my head spinning as I clenched my muscles, eliciting throaty groans from him.

Vince reached for my hips, gripping them tightly as he helped guide me along, my clit catching on his pelvic bone with every backward movement. “You got one more in you babe?”, he asked and to my surprise I could tell that I did. The fact that I could already feel it bubbling inside of me spoke volumes of our chemistry in bed together. This was a friends with benefits arrangement I could definitely get behind.

He sat up then, changing the angle at which his cock dragged against my walls and also making it possible for him to take one of my nipples into his mouth, gently grazing his teeth against it while tightening his grip on my hip as he thrust up into me. At this point I was a moaning mess on top of him but I honestly didn’t care. I hadn’t had sex this good in a while and the way he looked up at me in awe made it impossible to feel anything but sexy.

I didn’t even need any extra help to reach my third orgasm of the night with his name falling off my lips, the feeling so strong that my mind was absolutely blank and I saw stars dancing across the back of my eyelids as I arched into him with my eyes shut. He made sure to let me ride it out, groaning as he felt my walls tighten around him but as soon as I slumped against him he turned us around so he was on top of me, never once pulling out.

The pace at which he was chasing his own high now was relentless and hard and I would have held on for dear life if he hadn’t raised my arms to keep them above my head. One of his hands easily encased both of my wrists while he used his other to keep at least some of his weight off of me. I knew that a fourth orgasm was off the table, I was way too exhausted for that by now but he still felt amazing inside of me. I wrapped my legs around him to allow him deeper, the smack of our skin and our moans so loud that I was glad that we didn’t have any nosy roommates right next door. Those noise complaints from the neighbors I’d mentioned earlier might still roll in though.

With this pace it didn’t take long for his thrusts to lose all rhythm and I could tell that he wouldn’t last much longer. I clenched around him to bring him even closer and he groaned into the crook of my neck where he had buried his face, my name and some colorful curses falling off his lips. He readjusted his position so he could lean up enough to look at me while still holding my wrists above my head and I watched him throw his head back in pleasure as he slammed deep inside of me one last time, face contorting in pleasure as he reached his high. I could feel him pulsing inside of me and a pleasant shudder ran through me, making me sigh at the feeling. Perhaps this was my body’s way of saying girl if I could have, I would have.

He let go of my wrists then and I wrapped my arms around him as he dropped down on top of me. We both caught our breath for a few seconds which honestly wasn’t easy with the extra weight on my chest but it was a nice feeling. He had to carefully pull out and roll off of me eventually, throwing the condom next to the bed to dispose of later. For now it was nice to lay beside each other, covered in a sheen of sweat and still panting.

After finally landing back on planet earth I looked to my right at the alarm clock waiting on the nightstand, only now realizing how late it had gotten. Vince lifted his head enough to check the time as well and let out a light groan at the sight.

“You can spend the night if you want but we should definitely shower before that. Even if it wasn’t your birthday – well technically it’s not anymore – I’m not some dick that would kick you out in the middle of the night.”

I was surprised at his offer, I’d been with guys who were those dicks but I was even more surprised when he told me to pick something to sleep in from his closet before pulling on a pair of boxers and getting up to grab waters for the both of us.

I decided to postpone this until after showering, quickly making my way to his ensuite to use the toilet. I saw enough UTIs at work, I didn’t need them following me home. I was trying to wipe my make up off as best as I could with a washcloth and the face wash from his counter when he returned to his bathroom, a new toothbrush triumphantly in his hand.

“Found this in my junk drawer in the kitchen but I’ll be honest, I have no idea how it got there. The wrapping is unopened tho”, he admitted sheepishly and I laughed.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll take it.”

Our shower was quick, both of us too exhausted for any more funny business but if my gaze had dropped from time to time appreciatively no one would ever know. He had an amazing body and I would have to be a nun not to acknowledge that.

Especially while he was naked in the shower.

I definitely wasn’t a nun.

Looking for clothes to sleep in turned out to be more difficult than I’d originally thought because of his affinity to clothes that were at least one size too big. Most of them would reach my knees in a really unflattering way and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep while drowning in fabric. I tried on three, neatly putting them back afterwards and actually contemplating sleeping in only a pair of his boxers before finally finding one that didn’t make me look like a kid.

I could tell that it was an old shirt, perhaps from a previous team, worn down over time with a slightly faded print but it was comfortable and it smelled like him, even if I doubted that he had worn it anytime recently.

Vince was already tucked into bed by the time I stepped back into his bedroom, scrolling through his phone but putting it down on the nightstand once I got closer. I could see that he’d searched for a second charger so I could plug my phone in overnight as well and it was such a little gesture but yet it made me smile.

“I prefer to sleep on the right side, I hope you don’t mind”, he said as I climbed under the cover beside him. I shook my head no before responding:

“Nah, I actually like the left side better.”

“See, we’re meant to be fuck buddies.”

“I could already tell from the three orgasms but hey, if that’s what it takes for you to realize that.”

“You have a point there.”

Any other time and I certainly would’ve stayed up for a while longer so we could talk but right now I knew I wouldn’t last long. For a second I wasn’t sure how to do this, would it be weird to cuddle?

Vince made my decision easy however when he pulled me close until my back was flush against him, wrapping his arm around my waist. After our exhausting shenanigans earlier it took neither of us long to fall asleep.

The next morning I woke super early, my inner clock not allowing me to sleep past seven despite staying up late. I’d turned around in my sleep to lay on my stomach but Vince had somehow managed to keep his arm around me and get even closer.

I was slightly worried for my safety because of the fact that I had managed to sleep through a 200 pound guy basically laying on top of me but I’d slept like a baby. I could tell that Vince was still asleep by the even breaths that fanned across my neck but one part of him definitely wasn’t, poking my side. Bless the male population for their sleepy boners.

I was trying to let him sleep as long as I could, I really did, but with him so close to me and the images of last night combined with the very interesting dream I’d just woken up from burned into my memory I couldn’t help myself. I slowly turned in his arms so we were back to the position we’d fell asleep in, on our sides and pressed together spooning.

Even through my shirt I could feel his body radiating heat and if the night had been warmer it definitely would’ve been too much but right now I just wished for all barriers between our bodies to disappear.

My shifting had apparently woken Vince up successfully because he let out a throaty groan before, consciously or not, rocking against my ass and burying his face in my neck.

“Morning”, he said and I’m not gonna lie his husky morning voice did things to me that didn’t exactly help my situation.

“Morning, how’d you sleep?”, I asked, turning my head slightly so I wasn’t having this conversation with his incredibly comfortable pillow.

“Could’ve been longer but I don’t mind. Now that I’m up however..”, he trailed off, lightly biting my neck and moving his hand from my waist to grab my boob, rocking into me again, this time definitely on purpose.

This was definitely a friends with benefits situation I could get behind.

Somehow Vince managed to weasel his way into my life after that. He’d come over after I finished a shift at the hospital, spend the night and leave me incredibly satisfied the next morning when both of us went our separate ways again. Our time with each other was pretty short, only a week, but somehow I’d had more sex in that one week than in the last few months combined.

My last shift at the hospital on Saturday was, for a lack of better words, sad as fuck. So many people came up to me, telling me how much they would miss me and what a great addition I had been over the past year. When they brought a cake into the break room with a sweet message written on top of it I couldn’t help the tears that welled up. I could see Rachel subtly wipe at her eyes as well and I hugged her tightly.

“Remember our first day of classes? Oh how things have changed since then”, she muttered against me and I nodded. One thing that hadn’t changed however was our friendship. She was the reason I had come to Toronto, where she had grown up but it had been five years since I left my home to go to college and I knew that it was time to go back to my family and childhood friends.

“Don’t think you’ll be getting rid of me this soon, I’ll call you all the time and with there only being a one hour time difference between Toronto and St. Louis you have no excuse to avoid me.”

“As if I could ever avoid you, you little shit. But if your hometown insists on having you back I’ll allow it, I guess.” Her insulting me told me that she was okay again so I let go of her, the both of us still sniffling a bit as we each grabbed a piece of the cake.

When I finally made my ay back home that night Vince was already there. Mariah had probably let him in. There’s been some raised eyebrows at first but after seeing him here every day neither of my roommates was surprised when he knocked at our apartment door. Somehow he seemed to sense that I wasn’t in a talking mood right now, especially about having to say goodbye to the place that had been my home for the past year.

I was excited to see my family and friends in St. Louis again, don’t get me wrong, but goodbyes were never easy.

He greeted me with one of his comforting hugs that I’d already grown accustomed to before dropping his head to press a soft kiss on the top of my head before pulling me to the bathroom.

My shampoo and other toiletries were some of the last few things that hadn’t been stuffed in boxes and duffel bags yet and the sight made tears well up in my eyes.

“It’s okay, you know. I don’t like leaving here either”, he murmured in my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, moving us so we both got hit by the stream of hot water. I wanted to forget everything but the feel of his naked body pressed against me but right now I knew I was too in my head to actually be able to enjoy it. Later maybe.

“But you get to come back every summer for a couple of months. I don’t know how long it’ll take until I can visit everyone again and even then it’ll probably only be for a few days.”

“That’s true. But your friends can also visit you. And in a few weeks I’ll be down as well and then you’ll be so annoyed by me constantly bugging you that you won’t be able to miss your friends here anymore.” My sniffle turned into a laugh at his words and I almost swallowed a big gulp of water in that moment, making both of us break into fits of laughter.

I was glad I’d have him with me again in a few weeks. Hopefully at least. We’d talked about our situation and I told Vince to hit me up again once he’d made it to St. Louis too in a few weeks and while he said he would, I knew that there was the possibility that he might not. I didn’t have the opportunity to dwell on the thought too long though because he’d managed to distract me yet again when he placed searing hot kisses along my shoulder.

If he hadn’t managed to get me out of my shell back in the hospital I never would’ve ended up with him in the shower right now. Or bent over the mattress a few minutes later.

Vince Dunn, the arrogant professional athlete, had turned out to be nothing like I’d expected and I had never been more happy to be wrong.

#Vince Dunn #nhl #nhl hockey #vince dunn imagine #nhl imagine #nhl writing #my writing #clear as day #hockey imagine

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arhvste · 4 years

Text

☼just until i win☼

WRITTEN CHAPTER

an - everyone say thank you atsumu <3

y/n shuffled reluctantly over to her door and slowly opened it to reveal a concerned looking atsumu with a plastic bag in one of his hands.

nothing was said between the pair as y/n moved out the way to let him in. he placed the bag down on the coffee table nearby and turned to the girl. still nothing said between the two, atsumu pulled her into his chest as y/n sobbed quietly into his t-shirt.

after 2 minutes of y/n quietly hiccuping and allowing her tears to fall, atsumu pulled away and looked down at her sighing.

“ya know, ya really worry me sometimes.”

y/n could only nod slightly as she wiped away the tears remaining on her cheeks as she finally registered the plastic bag on the table.

“what's that?” she mumbled gesturing towards the coffee table.

atsumu smiled slightly and picked it up to bring to the larger dining table.

“samu couldn't sleep till he felt like he did somethin for ya. believe it or not, he’s just as worried as me and everyone else. i had to force shouyo and bokkun not to follow me.”

guilt strung through y/n’s chest as she apologised quietly before sitting down opposite the pro player.

“don't apologise, its understandable, i’m just glad ya even opened the door for me.”

“i know you would've stood there all night if i didn't.”

atsumu smiled towards the athletics trainer and began to take out the contents inside. osamu had cooked multiple types of onigiri. ones he knew atsumu liked and ones he knew y/n liked.

the two ate in a comfortable silence as atsumu allowed the girl to gather her thoughts. the last thing he wanted to do was pressure her into talking to him about what she was thinking and feeling. he knew she would eventually tell him anyway he had all the time in the world for her to tell him.

10 minutes of a slightly warmer atmosphere between them, y/n sniffled and turned away.

“y/n?” atsumu reached over softly.

“no -shit. i-i’m sorry. this is so pathetic i shouldn't even be crying over this, i should've seen it coming from the start.”

ah so she was in the stage of self blame.

“y/n, none of this was your fault okay?”

the girl didn't care at this point and let her tears flow down her cheeks freely as she turned back to face the artificial blonde.

“yeah b-but if i’d just maybe gotten through to him better or maybe just i don't know -broken up with him, none of this would've happened!”

the setter watched as he let y/n let her emotions out. he didn't plan on riling her up. he needed her to get out whatever she was holding in so he could get through to her on a clearer mind.

“y/n, listen to me.”

stopping her quiet sobs for a moment, y/n looked up at a very genuine looking atsumu.

“i get yer a people pleaser and you’d rather take responsibility when somethins not even yer fault but, none of this was yer fault.” atsumu watched as y/n visibly relaxed at the sound go his voice.

this was a start.

he sighed and took her hands into his one and gave them a light squeeze.

“but, i don't believe this was oikawa’s either.”

y/n’s eyes widened slightly as she opened her mouth to object but atsumu didn't give her the chance.

“ah- i know ya probably think i’m just sayin that to stop you from arguing anymore but listen to me.”

the girl relaxed back into her chair, and nodded slightly for atsumu to continue.

“i know ya don't want to look at the picture, in fact its probably the last thing yer gonna wanna look at, but from what it looks to me, its one-sided. ya can tell he’s clearly uncomfortable and in shock.’

y/n frowned slightly trying to remember the awful photo but her memory was so blurred from the strong emotion and endless tears she couldn't actually remember oikawa’s expression in the photo.

“he still met up with her though.”

atsumu sighed and ran a hand through his slightly messy hair.

“yeah but personally i think he did the right thing. i know its gonna be hard to see things from his point of view but, he handled this well. sure, he wasn't flawless when it came to communication with ya but ya gotta give him some credit for going out his way. he has a lot going on right now and the last thing he probably wanted was a twitter war between his fans, reporters, her fans and herself. seeing her in person was probably one of the best ways to make it clear he wanted nothin to do with her.”

y/n didnt speak for a few moments as she registered what the boy in front of her had just said. yeah it was easy to get angry at how the situation had turned out but was that really all oikawa’s fault.

“atsumu-” y/n began with a shaky breath.

“i get that you’re trying to help me but what you don't know is that he tried to turn this on us. he accused me of cheating with you even though his only source of evidence was fake tabloids that have obviously reached for any material they can to feed off our names. like i said to him, how can he accuse me of cheating when he has no evidence but there’s actual evidence of him with another girl and he’s insistent i believe that he’s been faithful to me.”

atsumu raised an eyebrow to this. oikawa really read those stupid tabloids? they were obviously fake, hell, the same reporters had even written a few tabloids linking him to sakusa much to the latters disgust.

“but is that picture really evidence? i mean, from what it looks like he’s not into it and she’s the one initiating it. i’m not sayin what he said was fair but he’s probably frustrated and panickin. i’m not tellin ya to forgive him right now, but try to talk to him again when you've got yer thoughts together a bit more. it’s not fair to argue with him while yer both under a lot of pressure and emotions. i know for a fact that boy loves ya and ya know it too, ive never seen such a sappy and gross couple before whether yer like it or not this isn’t somethin yer gonna break up over.”

y/n hated to admit it but atsumu was right. maybe she had been a little unfair to pounce at oikawa straight away and hardly give him the chance to explain fully what had happened. had she been stupid enough to forget that oikawa struggles with stress and pressure and was prone to breaking down when things got to much.

a new wave of guilt washed over the girl as she closed her eyes and brought her head down to her knees.

“i feel awful now, oh my- i don't even want to imagine how he’s feeling right now fuck.”

atsumu stood up and crouched down in front of the now panicking y/n.

“look at me.”

glassy eyes stared into atsumu’s.

“we’ll try and get ya to meet him tomorrow, even if ya talk over the phone or somethin, but not tonight, it’s late and yer both need to rest yeah? i’ll stay on yer couch tonight but ya should get ready for bed and try to sleep.”

y/n thanked her lucky stars that she’d been blessed enough to have someone like miya atsumu storm into her life.

she nodded and shuffled to her room to get ready as atsumu wandered over to the couch with a satisfied smile.

after 5 minutes, y/n came back to bid the setter a goodnight and an offer to return back to his room.

“nah, don't wanna leave ya just in case ya wake up stressed or somethin, i’ll be here i’m not going anywhere just call me if ya need me.”

y/n smiled and gave the setter a tight hug.

“thanks tsumu. you’re a lifesaver.”

“i know.”

the girl laughed slightly and pulled away before muttering one last good night to the boy who nodded and waved back smiling.

things had been rough today sure, but atsumu had managed to force her to see things from oikawa’s point of view and even take majority of the balme off of him. she was still angry sure, but things were different now. the anger totally directed towards oikawa had been redirected to herself and sakai but y/n could live with that.

the same way oikawa promised to fix things, y/n made a silent promise to herself that she too would fix things. she just had to wait for a new day to do it properly, the worst had passed all she could do now was move forward and the girl decided to take her first step that very second as she grabbed her phone.

just until i win

oikawa tooru x reader

masterlist

part 22 - empty promises

part 23 - atsumu

part 24 - online critic

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musecharm-writes · 4 years

Text

Bad Influence, Pt 4 (Steve Harrington X Reader)

Summary: It’s time for the first check-in with Hopper and the date with Steve.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

On Friday morning, you come into work early again, and you’re pretty sure that you’re going to throw up. Today is the first “check-in” with Chief Hopper, and even though you’ve been working your tail off, you’re so worried that it won’t be enough.

Joyce must be able to tell how you’re feeling (some kind of mother’s intuition or something, you guess), because she goes suspiciously easy on you for most of the day, keeping you on the register for the most part, and when you start to get too antsy to deal with customers, she takes over for you, ushering you away to take inventory.

You get so invested in cataloguing that you almost miss the break Joyce usually gives you to eat. Luckily for you, that’s exactly when Chief Hopper shows up.

(Oh, did you think ‘luckily?’ You meant unluckily, because you still pretty much feel like your stomach is about to make an emergency ejection.)

You hear his voice as you’re stepping out of the back, and you almost want to turn around and go right back in. Before you have a chance, though, he spots you and starts your way.

“Hey, kid,” he says, taking his hat off. “How ya been?”

You smile, uncertain. “Hasn’t Ms Byers told you already?”

He shrugs. “Yeah. But maybe I wanna hear it from you, too.”

You pick at the hem of your Melvald’s vest. “It’s been… fine. I’m handling it, I guess.”

“You guess?”

You drop the hem of the vest and scrub a hand down your face. “No. No, I really am handling it. I just… Have a lot of other stuff to deal with, I guess. This is actually the one thing that’s going pretty well, believe it or not.”

Chief Hopper nods. “Well, that’s something, at least. Good to hear you’re trucking along.”

You swallow. “So… So I’m good, then?”

He nods again, putting his hat back on. “Yep. You’re good,” he pats you firmly on the shoulder a couple of times, and you feel the tension melt out of your body. As he turns to leave, he says, “See ya around, kid. Take the weekend off.”

You go back out to the front, and Joyce looks at you expectantly.

“Well? How was it?”

You sigh. “Good. It was good.”

There are six hours until the date, and Steve is definitely not freaking out.

Really, he isn’t.

...Okay, maybe just a little.

“Do you think these jeans are too tight?”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Steve--”

“Are sneakers too informal, should I wear something else?”

“Steve--” Dustin tries.

“Shit, this is a horrible idea, I should just call and cancel before it’s too late--”

“STEVE!” Robin shouts, effectively cutting off his panicked rambling. She grabs his face, squishing his cheeks gently. “It’s okay. Your jeans are fine, maybe swap those shoes for a less dirty pair, stop panicking.”

Steve takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, you’re right. Sorry.”

“Look, you have six hours until the date,” Dustin reasons. “Even if you decide that you wanna wear something else, there’s still plenty of time -- too much time, even. You don’t have to have everything figured out yet.”

Steve sighs. “Look, Henderson, I don’t expect you to get this since Suzie lives in Utah and you only see her at camp, but when you’re going on a date you need to be prepared way in advance. It takes time to look good, dude. Besides, the first date is the most important date, I have to make a good impression.”

Dustin considers this and then shrugs. “I guess that makes sense.”

Robin shakes her head as she looks at them in disbelief. “You two have no idea how dating works, do you?” She looks at Steve. “How did you get Nancy to go out with you, again?”

“Oh yeah?” Steve put a hand on his hip. “How are things going with Tina, Ms Hypocrite?”

Robin’s cheeks reddened. “Fuck off.”

When you get home after your shift, you kick your shoes off and flop down on the couch.

You’d been so worried about the check-in with Hopper, and now, you almost feel like the build-up was all for nothing. Now, all you have to do for the rest of the weekend is relax.

It’s hours later when you start to get the feeling you’re forgetting something. You’re sure it’s nothing, though; if it was super important, you would have written a note for yourself somewhere to keep yourself from forgetting.

You have a hot shower to decompress, take a pit stop in the kitchen for some Froot Loops, and then immediately go back to the couch for some channel surfing.

At around 6:30, you realise what it was you were forgetting: your date with Steve is tonight.

And you only have half an hour until he comes to pick you up.

“FUCK!” You sit up so fast that you bang your knee against the coffee table, but you can’t feel it through the adrenaline. You dash to your room and start ripping through your closet. Eventually, you find clothes that are clean and seem date-worthy. You grab your favourite boots, and go to your dresser to dig up your lucky socks.

You finish getting ready as fast as you can. You’re about to go to the living room to wait for Steve before hesitating, eyeing the cigarettes on your desk.

You sigh. Went to the trouble of getting them. Might as well.

Grabbing the carton, you tamp the cigs, shake one loose, and tuck it into your sock, along with your Zippo.

When Steve gets to your house, he’s six minutes early -- which, he tells himself, is just way too early, and you’d probably be super annoyed if he rang the bell so soon.

Which, of course, gave him several minutes to sit in his car and overthink things.

What if this wasn’t a date? What if you just thought he was trying to apologise for being a jerk in Melvald’s? Shit, he should’ve been more obvious that he was trying to ask you out… But he was so nervous you would say no if he just asked outright. What if he told you it was meant to be a date, and you wanted to leave because you weren’t interested? He doesn’t want you to stop wanting to hang out with him just because he wants to date you.

By the time he’s come to the conclusion that he’ll just keep the date thing to himself and see what happens, it’s 6:58, and he figures he’s as ready as he’s gonna get.

He goes up to your front door and rings the bell.

You answer, and it feels like Steve’s heart is about to explode.

“Hey,” you say, a nervous-looking half smile on your face.

“Hey,” Steve replies breathlessly. After a beat of silence in which he realises he’s staring at you, he adds, “Uh, you ready to go?”

“Yeah. Where we goin’, by the way? You never said.”

Right. Steve knew he’d forgotten something. “W-- Uh, we could… We could go to the Hawk? See if there’s anything good playing? Or get dinner at Benny’s?” He feels for his wallet, pulls it out and peers inside. “...Shit. Um, we may have to stop by my house real quick first though, I don’t have my cash on me.”

You shrug. “Fine by me.”

Steve nods, a little jerkily. “Cool. Right, let’s roll.”

He walks you around to your side of the car and opens the door for you, and you smile at him, which gives him fucking heart palpitations, but it also makes him a little more confident in the whole date thing.

He decides to test his luck and does a bonnet slide, hoping you’re the kind of person who might think that looks cool.

When he gets in the car, you say, “Nice one, Harrington,” in a slightly teasing tone, and it makes his face feel warm. Score!

He turns the key in the ignition and says, “How d’you feel about rock ‘n’ roll?”

You grin.

Sitting in the passenger seat of Steve Harrington’s BMW, watching him sing along to Owner of a Lonely Heart, you feel more confused than ever.

You’d convinced yourself, sitting on your living room couch, not to think of this as a date, just in case -- because Steve never called it one, so maybe it wasn’t one. But with him opening the car door for you, and then the stupid (awesome) bonnet slide… maybe it is? You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want it to be, anyway.

On the other hand, he hadn’t really planned what he wanted the two of you to do. Maybe he hasn’t been nervous all this time because he wants to go out with you; maybe he’s just worried you’re mad at him for the thing at Melvald’s.

Before you can work yourself up about it any more, you’re pulling into the driveway of the Harrington’s veritable estate.

For a second, you’re so dumbfounded by the pristine state of the house and yard (not to mention the size) that you forget where you are. Then, you turn to Steve and say, “Uh, should I wait in the car, or…?”

Steve turns the car off. “Hm? Oh, nah, you can… You can come in. My parents aren’t home, but just so you know, Dustin and Robin are in there, and uh… Just, please don’t let anything they say reflect poorly on me.”

“Uh,” you say. “Okay.”

When the two of you get inside, you find the curly-haired kid and Robin Buckley standing in the foyer. The curly-haired kid -- Dustin -- has his hair coated in Pomade and neatly combed, and he’s wearing a suit and a comically obvious fake moustache. Robin has her hair pinned back, and she’s wearing a string of pearls, matching earrings, and white elbow-length gloves with her regular clothes.

It’s a ridiculous sight.

“What the-- What the hell are you two doing?”

Dustin and Robin turn to him, and they both grin.

“Ah, it’s our dearest son, Steve,” Dustin says, affecting an imitation of an adult man’s voice. “Welcome home, son.”

“Why, darling!” Robin says, her voice altered to sound like that of a cultured socialite. “It seems our little boy is on a date!”

Steve’s friends are pretending to be his parents. That’s actually kind of cute. (And, best of all, it confirms that this is a date, which really helps alleviate your anxiety.)

You glance over at Steve and notice that he’s blushing like crazy.

“Will you two cut it out?” He hisses.

They don’t pay him any mind.

“Make sure you have our Stevie back home by eight o’clock,” Dustin says, reaching up to twirl the ends of his fake mustache.

“Yes, of course, Mr Harrington,” you say seriously. “And might I say, Mrs Harrington, you look just stunning this evening.”

Robin guffaws loudly, holding a gloved hand up to her cheek. “Oh, aren’t you the charmer! This one’s a keeper, Steve, dear.”

Steve sighs. He ignores his friends, and to you he says, “I’m gonna go up to my room and grab what I need and then I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nod. “Yeah, sounds great. I’ll be here.”

The moment Steve is too far to hear, Robin says, “Hey, seriously, thanks for giving our doofus a chance. I know he comes off as kind of a dunce sometimes, but he means well.”

You shrug. “I get it. I’m not perfect, myself.”

Dustin interjects with, “Steve sure seems to think so.”

You aren’t sure what to think of that, so you just laugh awkwardly.

In the next moment, Steve comes racing down the stairs. He looks up and sees the three of you standing around not saying anything and squints critically.

“What’s going on? What did they say to you?”

You shake your head, forcing a plain expression. “Nothing.”

He looks between Dustin, Robin, and you again before saying, “Okay. Let’s go.”

As you’re leaving, Robin calls after you (foregoing the impression this time), “Make sure you use protection, Stevie!”

When you’re back in the car, on the way to the diner for dinner, Steve says, “Hey, I’m really sorry about them. They’re weirdos, they can’t help it.”

You laugh. “It’s fine. I think your friends are funny.” You look down at your lap, and then turn your head to examine his face while he drives.

He’s handsome, in a soft way. You’d never really noticed it in school, for whatever reason, but now, up close, it’s practically all you can notice.

He glances over and catches you watching him, and he smiles at you nervously.

“What’s up? Somethin’ on my face?”

“No,” you say softly. “Just… Looking at you. And thinking.”

He glances at you again, but keeps his eyes on the road, even though you can tell he really wants to look at you. “About what?”

You, you want to say, but it feels too honest to share. Instead, you say, “Why we never talked in high school. I feel like we could’ve been friends, if we hadn’t been running in different circles.”

He nods. After a moment, he says, “I feel bad. I barely remember you from high school. Probably because I was so focused on being ‘King Steve,’” he finishes bitterly.

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “And look at you now. Hanging out with a band geek and a freshman.”

He laughs, and it’s one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Yeah,” he says softly, looking over at you again, “look at me now.”

The diner is one of your favourite places to eat, so Steve is winning serious points bringing you here. (Not that he was short on points to begin with.)

The two of you grab a table by one of the windows, and a waitress comes over to take your order pretty quickly. You both order burgers and fries -- most people do at Benny’s.

“Hey, so, this is probably the worst thing to ask, but Nancy and Jonathan made me promise I would ask you about it if I got the chance,” Steve begins.

You sigh. “You wanna know about when I got arrested, huh?”

Steve purses his lips and nods. “You can say you don’t wanna talk about it if you want.”

“No, I guess it’s fine,” you pick at a crack in the table. “I… was stealing from Melvald’s. It was a shitty impulse decision and I shouldn’t have done it. But I just… Okay, so, you’re allowed to judge me for this if you want, but I smoke. Cigarettes. I ran out a couple weeks ago and I felt like absolute shit. I’ve been saving allowance money from my mom to buy another pack, but I forgot to bring it with me when I left the house. I already had the carton in my hand, so I just…” You shrug and put your head in your hands. “I didn’t even think. I just did it.”

Steve looks at you with his eyebrows raised. “Wow,” he says. “That’s… really heavy. I’m sorry.”

“I hope it doesn’t make you think of me any differently.”

He shakes his head. “No! No, no. I mean, I get it. I’ve done things I’m… not necessarily proud of, too. You don’t have to let your mistakes define you, or whatever.”

It’s exactly what you needed him to say.

Before long, your food comes. The two of you spend two hours talking over food -- telling stories, laughing at each other’s jokes. It’s amazing. It’s so much fun.

You want it to last forever.

Unfortunately, at around 9:30, you remember that you forgot to make dinner for your mom. You let Steve know you need to be home soon, and he seems disappointed, but he calls the waitress over to get the bill.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, pushing back from the table. “Bathroom.”

While you’re on your way into the bathroom, you bump into Hopper, who’s on his way out.

“Oh! Hi, Hopper!” You say, surprised, but not unpleasantly so.

“Hey, kid,” he says. “What’re you doin’ out so late on a weeknight?”

You grin. “I have a date.”

He arches a brow at you. “With who?” He looks past you into the diner, maybe trying to figure out which table you came from.

“Steve Harrington.”

His eyebrows climb up toward his hairline. “Really? Huh. Kid doesn’t really seem like your type.”

You shrug, feeling your face get warm and hoping it isn’t obvious in the lowlight of the hallway. “He’s cooler than he seems, I guess.”

Hopper hums. “Right. Well, have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he pats you on the shoulder.

As he leaves, you call, “I won’t!”

When Steve pulls into your driveway, he puts the car in park and keys the car off. Then, the two of you sit in silence for a moment.

Apparently, neither of you want the night to end.

“I’ll walk you to your door?” Steve says tentatively.

You nod.

He comes around and opens your door for you, offering a hand to help you up.

You lace your fingers with his, grinning cheekily.

The two of you walk up together, hand in hand, stopping in front of your door.

“So… Guess this is it, huh?” Steve says.

You bite your lip. “Hey, Steve?”

“Ye--?”

You lean in and kiss him on the cheek. He feels a warm flush bloom outward from the spot where your lips touched.

“I had fun tonight. I wanna do it again sometime. Call me?” You say. At first glance, you seem confident, but Steve can read the hopefulness in your eyes as easily as he feels his own.

“Yeah,” he says decisively. “Yeah, I’ll call you. Tomorrow?”

You grin. “Tomorrow sounds great.”

#stranger things x reader #stranger things reader insert #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #x reader #reader insert #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #joyce byers #jim hopper #robin buckley #dustin henderson #writing #writing blog #reader insert blog #x reader blog #cigarettes #smoking #theft

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fireinmywoods · 4 years

Text

the heart of the matter (is Leonard McCoy)

Followers...friends. I come to you today, hat in hand, to ask for your support in a certain fandom matter, a trifling concern of little real consequence which nevertheless has been driving me absolutely cross-eyed bonkers for some years now.

Simply put: can we please all agree that Bones is the heart of the Enterprise???

In AOS, I mean. I’m not aware of any debate over this when it comes to TOS, where the roles of the triumvirate have always been explicit, though there are a few different ways to identify them:

Spock = logos = superego = head

Bones = pathos = id = heart

Kirk = ethos = ego = soul

So clear! So clean! So universally accepted by Trek fandom at large!

Oh, but things get murkier in AOS, and there are plenty of posts floating around which suggest that it’s Kirk, not McCoy, who serves as the heart in the Kelvin timeline. Even the writers of the first two AOS films have outright stated that their interpretation of the triumvirate had the original roles switched, with Kirk as the highly emotional one and McCoy as the arbiter between Kirk’s passion and Spock’s logic. It’s true that this technically counts as a Word of God pronouncement by the actual creators of 2/3 of the series thus far, which some would argue renders it canon. However, it’s equally true that those same creators also felt that Kirk was a fuckboi and that Benedict Cumberbatch wonderfully embodied their vision for Khan Noonien Singh, so honestly, who gives a hot hollerin’ fuck what those dingdongs think. This seems as justified a time as any to invoke Death of the Author, and in fact, it’s my firm belief that despite the writers’ intentions, Star Trek and Into Darkness both support the original triumvirate breakdown.

Under the cut you’ll find a long-winded and self-indulgent ~*~character analysis~*~ of the Kelvin-timeline incarnations of Jim Kirk and Leonard “Bones” McCoy, reviewing why Leonard is still unmistakably the heart, unpacking what the hell Jim’s deal is, and finally taking a look at some key examples from canon, because ya girl believes in showing her work.

Let’s get down to business.

[A quick warning, as this is starting to spread beyond my own followers: if you don’t like McKirk as a romantic pairing, you ain’t gonna like part IV, so I’d bow out before then or just take your leave now.]

i. Leonard

Independent of Jim’s characterization, it should be blindingly obvious that Leonard is the heart. He’s by far the most nakedly emotional of our seven core crew members, a trait we see writ large and small throughout the films. He’s reactive; he’s passionate; he’s humane. He cares, first and foremost.

Not about Starfleet, of course. Leonard doesn’t give a damn about playing the game or advancing his career, or even really about the Enterprise’s mission - he has no desire to explore strange new worlds, he’ll pass on seeking out new life and new civilizations, and he spends half his time trying to convince everyone else that boldly going where no man has gone before is a great way to die horribly. Fuck exploration, fuck space, and fuck the Federation while we’re at it. Leonard is perhaps the most improbable of the Enterprise’s senior officers for the simple reason that he seems to resent everything about the job.

Well. Almost everything.

See, what Leonard cares about is people. He cares about their lives, about their stories, about their hopes and dreams, about their suffering. That’s why he entered and has stayed in an extremely taxing caring profession, and it’s why he’s still on the Enterprise despite his incessant bitching about everything they do. He wouldn’t trust anyone else to take care of the crew he’s become so attached to, and he finds fulfillment in helping the people they encounter out there in the nightmare of space.

In every timeline, Leonard McCoy defines himself by what he can do for others: the pain he can ameliorate, the wounds he can heal, the diseases he can cure, the small amounts of good he can bring to a galaxy filled with so much absolute horseshit. Unlike most of his colleagues, he’s not motivated by curiosity or an adventurer’s spirit or a burning desire to make sense of the universe. (Fuck the universe, too, as a matter of fact.) Instead, he’s driven by the incredible depths of his compassion and empathy and concern for the people he serves alongside and those they meet along the way.

Sure sounds like the heart to me.

ii. Jim

I actually totally get why some people characterize Kelvin-timeline Jim as the heart. He’s quite literally a different man than the original timeline’s Kirk, and he definitely has more of the pathos qualities to him. Early on, he’s a total spitfire, fierce and hot-blooded, quick to anger and other sharp-edged emotions we’re not used to associating with James T. Kirk. Even as he grows into himself and leaves some of those traits behind, he remains spontaneous, passionate, protective, and self-sacrificing - easy enough to mistake for the heart if you squint.

But let’s not confuse having a heart for being the heart. Sure, Jim is more openly emotional and reactive than his TOS counterpart, but there’s still a marked difference between the way he and Leonard express and act on their emotions.

AOS Jim definitely has a lot of feelings - big ones - but at the end of the day, he’s not driven by his heart. He’s driven by his gut.

Whenever there’s trouble, Jim makes a beeline right for the center of it. He’s impulsive as hell, rarely pausing to think past his first instinct, because he just wants to be doing something, no matter the odds, no matter what it costs him. He explicitly calls himself out on this in ST:ID when arguing with Spock: “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. I only know what I can do.” He doesn’t have the patience or the constitution to sit and debate all the options, either internally or with his crew. If there’s a path forward from where he is, even a bad one, Jim’s gonna take it.

[Sidebar: One could make the case that the roots of Jim’s instinct to act reach back to his childhood traumas - canonically ignored abuse and neglect on the one hand, and the Tarsus IV famine and massacre on the other - but that’s a whole post on its own and we ain’t got all day here.]

Jim can’t not act, and while that gets him into a lot of trouble, it also saves lives. Sulu probably appreciated that Jim’s gut drove him to leap off Nero’s drilling platform without a moment’s hesitation after a man he’d only just met. He may have been a real shithead about it, but Jim’s impassioned insistence on going after the Narada and not wasting time on the possibility of a better option was key to saving Pike and Earth itself. And I don’t know why Spock was so surprised that Jim intervened to save him on Nibiru, considering that the reason they were there in the first place was because Jim couldn’t sit back and watch the Nibirans die when there was something his crew could do to help them, even if it meant risking a violation of the Prime Directive.

Jim is a good man with a big heart, and he cares about people, absolutely. But he cares most of all about Doing The Right Thing - which in the heat of the moment often translates to Doing Something, Anything, Hold My Beer.

iii. heart vs. gut (i.e., time for some receipts)

I think one of the main reasons Leonard and Jim’s characterizations get confused is because they both tend to act on instinct, only lightly informed by higher reasoning. However, I’d argue that their motivations and the nature of those actions are super distinct, and those distinctions remain relatively consistent throughout all three films. (And y’all know I really mean this shit if I’m out here calling ST:ID consistent.)

Jim is a big picture guy, figuratively and often literally heaving himself full-body into the mix of whatever problem the crew has encountered for lack of any better alternative. That energy propels the plots of all three films: the chaotic path he carves through the events of Star Trek and ST:ID, and the slightly calmer but still undeniably bananas course he charts for himself and his crew in the second half of Beyond.

As the heart, Leonard operates on a more micro level. His concern invariably lies with the individual people caught up in those grand events Captain Chaos is busy dragging them all through. While Jim’s zooming around flipping plot switches, Leonard can always be counted on to bring it back to the personal.

We frequently see this juxtaposed right there on film. Think of that slow pan through medbay in the first movie after the Narada’s ambush and the destruction of Vulcan: while Jim is stewing over what to do about the Big Bad, Leonard has stepped into the CMO role without fuss or fanfare to care for the wounded crew and traumatized survivors.

Or jump ahead to Beyond: during Krall’s attack on the Enterprise, there’s a gorgeous cinematic shot of Jim sprinting down the corridor with two crew members to take on the invaders - and then we cut to Leonard moving slowly through those same ghastly red-lit corridors, searching for casualties in need of help, visibly affected by what his scanner is telling him about the downed crewman he tries to save.

Actually, Beyond as a whole does terrific justice to each of their roles. (Perhaps because it was not written by dingdongs.) The first act finds Jim flailing around for a sense of purpose and forward momentum - an understandable consequence of a gut-driven character having stalled out for too long - and he ultimately gets his mojo back by spending the rest of the film careening through one insane seat-of-his-pants ploy after another. Meanwhile, in the quieter moments between all the mayhem, Leonard serves as the empathetic sounding board for both Jim and Spock as they struggle with deep emotionally charged secrets and Big Life Questions, helping them untangle their feelings and reminding them of the emotional attachments which are ultimately key to their respective decisions to stay on the Enterprise.

More examples, you say? Don’t mind if I do!

Star Trek

GUT: Jim hurtles around the Narada, improvising almost every step of the way and paying the price for his and Spock’s scheme in bodily harm, and ultimately succeeds in rescuing Pike. HEART: Leonard calls out for Jim as he runs into the transporter room, overwhelmed with relief that he’s made it back, and takes Chris Pike’s weight literally and figuratively onto his own shoulders to begin healing him while Jim runs back off to the center of the action.

Star Trek: Into Darkness

GUT: Jim argues with Leonard, Spock, and Scotty in quick succession as he’s preparing to drag them all off to Qo’noS, immune to their attempts to reason with him because, unraveled as he is by grief and pain, he can only focus on his visceral drive to Do Something. HEART: Unlike the others, Leonard is upset not about the larger moral questions of whether it’s right to go after John Harrison or bring torpedoes aboard the ship, but about the fact that Jim himself is hurt and hurting and won’t accept help.

GUT: Jim makes a snap decision to sacrifice himself by hurling his body against the warp core to realign it and save his crew. HEART: Shellshocked by the emotional grenade of his best friend’s death, Leonard suddenly realizes, through the haze of his own numbness and upswelling grief, that he might still be able to do something for this lonely radiation-ravaged body he’s been brought and the life it represents.

Star Trek Beyond

GUT: At the tail end of an improvised plan to out-maneuver Kalara, Jim quite literally shoots first and asks questions later, igniting a fuel tank and setting off an explosive series of events which he and Chekov just barely escape. HEART: The next time we see Leonard, Spock is opening up to him about Ambassador Spock’s death and his own plan to leave Starfleet for New Vulcan - and while he’s empathetic toward Spock (I can’t imagine what that must feel like), Leonard’s thoughts go immediately to the emotional impact of Spock’s plan on the other people he’s closest with. (I can see how that would upset [Nyota]. / I can tell you, [Jim]’s not gonna like that.)

GUT: Jim frantically strains to reach the final switch in the life support hub, believing that he’s going to die either way since the vent has already opened, but spurred on by the knowledge that his ability to move that switch is the only thing standing between Yorktown and annihilation. HEART: Knowing exactly what’s at stake, with the fate of the station and millions of lives hanging in the balance, Leonard’s greatest concern is that Jim won’t make it out in time.

iv. never bet against the heart

Let’s wrap this up with a deep dive on one of the absolute best examples of Leonard as the heart: his decision to sneak Jim onto the Enterprise in the first movie.

As relentlessly as I drag him for the, you know, poisoning and kidnapping aspects of that whole deal, there’s no denying that it is a god-tier heart move. Is it logical? Absolutely not. Is it really the right thing to do for either himself or Jim, as far as he knows at the time? Nope. It’s 100% the wrong choice for his own job security, reputation, and relationships with his fellow crew, and it’s almost guaranteed to get Jim into even worse trouble. Leonard is a smart dude who must understand that this course of action will likely end up coming back on them both in a real bad way. For someone who argues loudly and often in defense of self-preservation, this is a shockingly bad idea.

But none of that matters, because Jim shakes his hand and tells him to be safe with that horrible empty-eyed smile, and it gets him right in the heart, one-two-three.

One: sympathy, worry, and affection for Jim - his best friend, his wild and troublesome stray, his only family.

Two: guilt over adding onto Jim’s pain, and the instinctive urge to fix whatever‘s hurting him.

Three: fear of heading out into the unknown by himself, the agonizing uncertainty of not knowing what’s coming, craving for the security and reassurance Jim’s presence would give him.

“Dammit,” Leonard says, as his heart wins out over his brain. He knows this is a garbage plan, and he doesn’t care. His heart chooses Jim. That’s all that matters.

So he goes back for Jim, and to his own surprise it turns out that this Very Bad Idea was actually a Very Good Idea because Jim’s impulsive instincts end up saving Earth, and Leonard’s not in the habit of fixing what ain’t broke so he figures he may as well keep on chasing Jim’s crazy ass around the galaxy for a while, through jungles and off cliffs and into the goddamn afterlife when need be, until finally one day Jim’s gut drives him right into Leonard’s arms and he suddenly realizes that this is what his heart was choosing all those years ago: Jim’s wide terrified eyes, Jim’s voice breaking over his name, Jim’s hand pressing hard against his chest, reaching out for what’s his.

But that’s another story.

#mckirk #otp: bedside manner #fic related #palimpsest verse #@animetrashmuffin is a gift #several people messaged me when i vague-tagged about this a while back #but you're the one who had to listen to me rant at great length about this while i was sick so CONGRATS PAL THIS MESS IS FOR YOU #mccoy #kirk #star trek #aos #long post

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ackernuts · 3 years

Text

WHERE.[Erwin Smith x Daughter Reader]

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝘈𝘥𝘰𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘌𝘳𝘸𝘪𝘯 𝘚𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘹 𝘈𝘥𝘰𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1953 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

It was a normal pleasant day for the Survey Corps. It's had been almost a month since they've returned from rescuing Eren and the fleeing of the traitors, Reiner and Bertoldt and been a few weeks after Historia had been crowned.

The Corps had been back on operation again after defeating Historia's father's Titan.

While most are now focusing on coming up with a plan to retake Wall Maria after Eren successfully obtained the power of Titan Hardening, Commander Erwin is on Survey Corps HQ in Trost together with his adoptive daughter, [Name] Smith.

[Name] became a fallen soldier after she lost her eyesight in the first encounter with the Female Titan back in their 57th expedition.

Being visually impaired, she's out of duty but she's to stay in the HQ with Erwin, as per his orders.

That brings us to the present with [Name] clutching at the arm of Erwin for support as they walk towards the messhall where everyone is having dinner.

Upon arriving, the room was bustling with the cheers of the newly recruits who's oblivious of the death trap they just got themselves into.

With a blank face, [Name] ignored all the judging stares of those who doesn't know what had happened to the young ex-corporal. Erwin sat her on her usual seat together with all the higher-ups.

Hanji then helped Erwin to fetch her meal so she can eat and take her medicine. With the two of them out of [Name]'s side and the absence of the other corporal, Levi, mutters of dissatisfaction and belittling from the new cadets rung up to [Name]'s ears.

“Who is she?”

“Why is a useless blind in our ranks?”

“Who does she think she is? Thinking she can survive without a damn sight.”

“She's probably whoring with the commander.”

Having enough of the mutterings of the brats, she stood up and feel her way towards the cadets using her heightened other senses.

“What did you brats just said?” her eerie deep voice with rasp in it echoed across the room, silencing the place.

Smug chuckle of a stupid cadet then break the silence.

“You want me to repeat what I said? Ha! So you're not just a useless blind but also a deaf! Well let me repeat then! You're probably just whoring with the Commander, I mean, what does a useless blind like you doing in our ranks.”

A loud bang was then heard from one corner where the new Levi's squad was sitting, there stood an outranged Jean and Eren.

“You idiot! How dare you talk to the Commander's daughter that way?!” yell Eren with palms clenched into fist and furrowed eyebrows.

“That's a corporal you're disrespecting!” added Jean.

The cadet's smug smirk dropped almost immediately and color starting to drain off of him. The room was silence once again with a pair of footsteps rang up to their ears.

Walking back to the superior's table, Erwin and Hanji placed the trays of foods then turn to the lady standing in front of the recruit's table.

“[Name]? What are you doing?” those words fell into the deaf ears of [Name] and look straight into the cadet's eyes despite not seeing a thing other than total darkness.

“You cadet. I know you're new here in the scouts but you're not new to the military. Is that how you respect a superior?” almost immediately, the boy strung up and salute to [Name].

“You do not only bad-mouthed a corporal but also disrespect the Commander with your filthy mouth. Now receive your punishment, you're to run around the HQ and you are not to stop until I say so. I don't care if you lose your leg running your laps, after all you're not a useless blind in this ranks.” and with so much fright from the (color) haired female, he run outside without a second thought.

With that, [Name] went back to go and eat her dinner with a single thought in her mind and a doubt in her heart.

After dinner, the two then went back to Erwin's office to finish his paperwork.

“Erwin, tomorrow you're going to retake Wall Maria, right?” [Name] quietly asked.

“Yes. Also, good thing you remind me. You are to stay with Commander Shadis as we do the operation.” [Name]'s ears almost burst at her adoptive father's words.

“But Erwin, I can fight too. I can help to retake the wall.” she immediately reply. Stopping abruptly at his daughter's exclaimed, Erwin look at her with wide eyes.

“No.[Name], you're staying here where it's safe. Braun and Hoover is still out there and with Hanji's report about this beast Titan who turns a whole village into Titans, we can't risk you getting injured or worst die in there.”

“But like I said I can fight. I'm still a soldier and ---”

“[Name] you're blind! You're disabled! It's too dangerous out there. I'm doing this to protect you.--”

“So that's how it really is?! It's because I'm useless now because I can't see anymore! Why?! Back when I'm still fine, you wouldn't hesitate to give me mission after mission but now that I'm visually impaired I'm just a rug doll you're going to throw! Is it because I'm not your perfect soldier now?! That without my eyesight I'm just a weak little daisy you can pluck out of the garden?!”

“No! That's not---”

“No! It is! Don't you think I don't know that?! You think I don't know that a lot of people are waiting for me to accept that I'm good-for-nothing now so they can pull the trigger and kill me?! You think I don't know the guns pointed at me every single second?!”

Anger and hurted tears streaming down [Name]'s cheeks and Erwin's eyes filled with regret. Sighing, he walk up to his daughter and put a hand in her shoulder.

“Look, just give me more time [Nickname]. I'll put you back to the battlefield.”

“Don't call me that! Put me back? How?! Are you willingly give me your eyes? You can do that? Can you just stop pretending that you can fix everything with your gamble? Your can't do anything, you're just my adopted father anyway.”

Pain strikes Erwin's heart at the words of his daughter as she feel her way out of the office and into her own room, stumbling a couple of times before entering her bedroom.

_____

After that argument, [Name] locked herself in her room and doesn't even listen to the knock on her door by her father, bidding her a short farewell. Hours had passed and [Name] decided to get off of her bed and get ready to go visit her so-called grandpa, Cadet Instructor Keith Shadis.

Almost four days that the scouts went to retake Wall Maria and now they're back. The heroes of Shiganshina. [Name], received a letter that they found a compatible eye donor and is ready for the transplant, having her missed the return of her comrades.

Two days and the operation was successful. Her then (color except blue) eyes are now bright blue. Upon hearing the news of the operation, Hanji went and fetch the (color) tressed female and had her ride a carriage.

Much to [Name]'s surprise, Hanji hadn't uttered a single word since they took off and to her bewilderment, they stopped into the cemetery especially made for the military.

Her heart dropped at the sight of the regiment, mourning over their fallen soldiers. Frankly, she use her sight to go and look for her father that she dearly missed and hoped to apologized to.

“[Name]... I'm sorry.” she heard Hanji mumbled and ushered her to a certain tombstone where she see the name that made her whole world crumble.

There, written in the tomb is Erwin Smith. The name of the only man who have the courage to raise a meek, bruised little girl who he found on the side of the street. The very man who was so proud of her achievements, the only person who ever believed in her from the very beginning. The only one she will ever be proud to call her father.

Weak legs gave out and she fall into the ground, in front of her father's grave. Hot tears streaming down her cheeks like waterfalls. Her whole body shakes in disbelief at the loss of her beloved family. And to think that she haven't had the chance to apologise for their fight, hell, she haven't said she loved and cared for him for so long since she was six and now, she doesn't have the chance anymore.

“Who?...”

“Who is it?...”

[Name] mutters, eyes widen and lips trembling in every word. The rest of the Levi's squad, Levi and Hanji, stare at her in sympathy.

“Who was it...”

Contemplating to step forward and apologise to the crying lady, Armin ashamedly about to walk up to her when he was stopped by Levi.

“Who is it?! WHO EVER IS IT THAT TOLD YOU, YOU CAN GO WHERE I CAN'T FOLLOW YOU!!” shouted [Name] in anger, sadness and regrets.

The scouts can only hang their heads low in grieve and emptiness.

____

A week after [Name]'s outburst that forced her body to shut down and fell into a short coma. [Name] woke up and she immediately asked to be discharged to stay in her father's office and room. Upon arriving there with Hanji trailing behind her, [Name] all of a sudden, felt her whole body went numb and she fell in Erwin's office floor.

“[NAME]!” Hanji ran up to her quickly and try to assist her.

“I-I...”

“What is it? Those it hurts somewhere?”

“I- Hanji...my legs...I can't feel my legs...Hanji! I can't! My legs! I can't feel my legs.”

“Come on, let's get you back to the infirmary.” She said to the weilling woman and pick her up from the floor and into the infirmary.

“You're physically stable but it seems that you had been traumatized after all the events happened for the past weeks. Especially after loosing someone who's emotionally attached to you, it affects your capabilities to do the things you usually do with that person you always lean on. In your case, it was Erwin.” Hanji explained to the girl who's laying on the bed with a blank expression and an IV bag attached to her wrist.

“So you mean... I wouldn't be able to do the things I usually do with Dad? But... everything... I did everything with Dad. So it means I won't be able to do things even if I can see...”

_____

4 years later

The Titans are all gone and the scouts can finally venture out the outside world, with Eren's father's memories, they're able to go and see the sea that he, Armin and Mikasa always hoped to see.

[Name] is back in her old self as a soldier to make her father even more proud and to not waste the eyes that Erwin had given to her.

Once there, all of them are mesmerized by the beauty the ocean holds. Different things they notice that peaked their interest but two oddly not as hyped as everyone else, Eren and [Name].

Both are just staring off to space and muttering words to themselves.

“Hey Erwin ... Are you seeing this now? I'm sure you do. It's beautiful isn't it?... We're seeing the outside world now. All thanks to you. Ha! And stupid gambles.

I missed you Erwin. Don't worry, you're safe now. You can rest all you want.

I'll... I'll see you later Dad...Soon, I'll get to where you are now.”

The End.

#erwin smith #attack on titan erwin #anime #fanfic #fiction #reader insert #aot angst

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years

Text

Written In The Stars CIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I know last book ended horribly but I promise this one won’t be entirely sad, just a bit frustrating– Enjoy and please leave feedback! -Danny

Words: 3,888

Series’ Masterlist

Book IV // Next Chapter

Listen to: Then -by Anne-Marie

Chapter One: A Lousy Summer.

1974

Emily wasn't going to cry where the girls would be able to hear.

She could've used a spell to quiet her own sobs, but she just needed to be in a place where there was no need to hide.

So she went to the common room, drowning her cries on a blanket and wondering how was she going to crawl her way out of this one. She thought it was unfair, she'd never experienced something so embarrassing prior this moment. Wasn't love supposed to be beautiful?

"Mily?"

The girl gave a start and cleaned her face hastily.

"Padfoot," She tried to sound casual. "What's wrong? Had a nightmare about cats chasing your tail?"

"Are you okay?" He walked up to her, ignoring the teasing. "I'm sure that if you were to talk to them..."

"I think it's clear enough," Emily averted her gaze. "All of us want things we can't have."

"That's not true."

"What exactly should I do after the humiliation I went through?" She sniffed. "He kissed me in front of everyone! I can't be near him and I refuse to be around Lily, I don't want to see any of them!"

"Mily, when I tell you Matt got the worse deal..." Sirius frowned. "The look on his face–"

"You don't need to remind me," Emily lamented. "Why can't I like him back?"

"You can't force things to happen," He shrugged. "If I could make all of you forget I would, but you'd find a way to do whatever you want anyway."

"This is not the time for jokes..."

"Talk to Moony then," Sirius complained. "I'm not good at comforting people..."

"I don't want to talk! Can we just... sit in silence?"

The girl curled up and got closer, he wrapped an arm around her awkwardly.

Really –Sirius thought with exasperation– What was she expecting? This was bound to happen, one of them would eventually develop a crush on her...

Well, more than one... but Sirius was going to take that secret to the grave. It was out of place, Matthew was way better than him– Hell, anyone was a better choice! But tonight it was just the two of them... and Emily had asked him to stay.

"It'll get better, right?" She asked quietly. "I'll get over my stupid crush and so will Matthew... we'll be back to normal in no time..."

"You were never normal," He joked.

"You know what I mean..."

"Yeah," He fixed his gaze on the dying fire, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "If you ask me, James doesn't know what he's missing..."

1995

It was the driest and hottest month of the year back in Private Drive, but Mel was freezing at the front door of Grimmauld Place.

Her mother led her in as she closed the door behind them, Mel hugged Grey's basket closer, thinking a ghost would walk out of the hall. Instead, Sirius walked in with a bright smile.

"You're here!"

Mel looked around dubiously.

"This is your house?"

"Mel! Don't be rude!"

"That's okay," Sirius made a face. "This place is hot rubbish. Your room's clean though. I made sure you'd be comfortable. I know it's hard to be away from home, stuck in such a... place."

"Well, at least you're here," She smiled. "I'm sure I'll get used to it."

"Hand me those," Sirius grabbed her trunk and walked ahead of them. "Let me take you to your rooms... Try to be quiet, my mother's portrait is mental. I tried to take it down but she glued it there. It's bloody torture."

"Language, Padfoot," Emily said, though she was far more interested in the house-elves on the shelves. "Love the decor..."

"Don't mention it," The man growled. "The house-elf that kept the house clean while I was young used to be here, I have no idea where he is, but I haven't found him. I can't wait to throw all those heads out."

"You think he died?"

"I'll find him eventually."

"So this will be the headquarters for the Order?" The girl asked, choosing to ignore his vague answer.

She'd read her mother's letters in secret until Emily found her snooping around, by then it was too late, so Emily didn't see the point on hiding it anymore.

"That's right," Sirius opened the first door of the second landing. "I figured, if I can't be of use out there, the least I can do is give a safe place where to have our meetings. It's secured with a Fidelious charm, Dumbledore did it last Saturday when he heard you were coming."

"Interesting..." Mel looked around. "Who used to sleep in this room?"

"Guests, that's why it's so plain. I thought you'd like it that way, my family wasn't keen on jolly decorations."

"I noticed," Mel grinned.

"You must be hungry, coming all this way from Remus' place. Why don't we go to the kitchen and have lunch? We can unpack later..."

Mel was helping her mother set the table when she heard a strange noise coming from the corner of the kitchen.

"What's in there?"

"It's where the elf used to keep his appliances... there might be rats in there, be careful."

When she opened the door something fell swiftly on her feet and she screamed, jumping on the table.

"What happened?" Emily circled the table. "Oh–! Sirius! I believe Mel found your elf..."

"Is he alive?" The girl asked in terror.

The creature looked ancient and dirty, with a sneer that she'd never seen in an elf before; usually, they were all smiles and compliments. This one started to insult them as soon as he lifted himself from the ground.

"Rats! Thieves! Traitors of the blood had come to rob my masters' treasures!"

"Kreacher," Sirius said. "Shut up."

The elf closed his mouth tightly but sent Sirius a deathly glare.

"He listens to me because I'm the last member of my family that still lives. Be of use, Kreacher, go clean my mother's room."

The elf's eyes shone with anger but he turned away and vanished.

"He always liked to throw tantrums," Sirius added, pulling Mel down from the table. "You're okay?"

"Yeah– it took me by surprise..."

"You jumped so high!" Her mother laughed.

"Laugh at your daughter, will you?" Mel scoffed. "Not like you're the adult or anything..."

"No one here is allowed to be an adult," Sirius crossed his arms. "Not unless we're holding a meeting. In which case we're adults. Today there won't be any, though."

"Don't listen to her, she's just upset about spending summer away from Harry," Emily mentioned.

"I'm not," She replied tensely.

"It's okay, I was beyond sad the first time I had to leave Matt for–"

"I don't feel that way about Harry," Mel retorted roughly.

"What?" Her mother's smile fell. "What happened?"

She bent down to pick up the things that fell when she'd jumped on the table.

"I'd rather not talk about it..."

"Am I missing something?" Sirius raised a brow.

"Last summer Mel told us she was having feelings for Harry..." Her mum began carefully, "I thought it was still a thing..."

"I'll tell you what it was. Stupid..." The lump in her throat formed at a remarkable speed. "I should've known better..."

"Did you talk to him?"

"He doesn't like me, Mum."

Sirius and Emily shared a look, the woman moved to hug her.

"We can talk about it if you want? Once you're ready..."

"Can we have lunch?" Mel asked quietly.

"Sure thing, little Em," Sirius nodded. "I'm a brilliant cook. Your mother's skills will be put to shame."

"How're you so sure?" Emily grinned.

"Because I remember your cooking."

Mel was spending some quality time with Buckbeak when Sirius walked in. It was almost midnight and her mother had gone out on a mission.

"Is it okay if I join you?"

Mel shrugged.

"I know you said you didn't want to talk about it, but maybe you'd like to talk to me now?"

The girl remained silent.

"C'mon, Mel! We'll live under the same roof for a while, let's practise our social skills!"

"My social skills are fine, thanks."

"I heard from a reliable source that you're still scared of speaking to large crowds..."

"I simply don't find it exciting," She lied.

"Well then, I'm not a thousand people, but I have a nice pair of ears that would love to listen to fifteen-year-olds' problems."

"I'm sure your godson will have plenty once he's back."

"He's been demoted to my godson?" Sirius taunted.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"All right, we won't talk about him... What about your father?"

"What about him?"

"Well, when he was about your age–"

"He kissed my mum and she turned him down?" She replied tiredly. "So what? They married anyway..."

Sirius frowned.

"They didn't know they were going to marry each other, that's what! Matt didn't look like himself for weeks! Your mother'd been rejected, that's why your dad kissed her. He thought it would help... to this day I don't know why he thought that, but alas, it worked!"

"Did you know the other?" Mel asked. "That kid mum used to like?"

"A fool," Sirius shrugged. "A nice fool, but an idiot nonetheless... your parents were lucky, Mel. They found a way to fall in love, but even if that hadn't been the case, your father would've found someone– your mother would've found someone... It's not that we're meant to find just one person and stick to it. Most times it's just finding an equal that understands you and suits your needs, and there are plenty of those."

"I don't want anyone," Mel pouted. "I hate this, and I wish there was a way I could avoid liking people. It's hideous."

Sirius laughed.

"Trust me, you'll regret it if you don't give someone a chance. Though I'll tell you this, no person in this world will ever be fully worthy of you, little Em. And even if it's true and you don't find one, your life will still be full of adventures."

Mel didn't think she was that great, but whatever had happened between Harry and she felt right, it felt natural, she'd been able to see a future with the boy. Then again, that could've been her childish and gullible self thinking that her first love was going to last forever. Maybe, if she were to try hard enough, she'd be able to see someone taking Harry's place.

"Have you ever been in love?" Then she added rather bashfully. "I mean, not that I have, but you know..."

Sirius cleared his throat.

"It was a long time ago. Long before leaving Hogwarts... It wasn't meant to be, nor my place."

They fell in comfortable silence, watching Buckbead nibble some bones.

"If you really want to help me," Mel started. "You can teach me how to avoid detention..."

"Nice try," Sirius laughed. "Emily warned me about you... My official answer is no."

"What about your off-the-record answer?" She inquired, standing up at the same time as him.

"Only the days Mily's not in the house."

Kreacher kept insisting on following her around as if she were a criminal, making sure she wasn't touching any of his old trinkets. She didn't have any interest in doing so; everything had dark magic, she'd sense it without even having to touch them.

On a normal day, she'd go to the attic to spend time with Buckbeak, sometimes Sirius would make tea and they'd sit there talking about his adventures in Hogwarts. He'd tried several times to ask her about Harry, but she would ignore him every time.

Dumbledore visited one morning to ask her to keep it all a secret, what they were doing there, meaning that if she was planning on sending letters to Harry, she wasn't allowed to talk about the Order. But Mel wasn't writing to him at all, and her letters to Hermione and Ron were always vague. Both of them were under the impression that Mel, true to her nature, was keeping an updated knowledge on Harry's whereabouts, that she didn't confirm nor denied.

Erick wrote to her a week after she'd moved to Grimmauld Place. Anne went completely unmentioned, but that was expected. He was busy looking for young supporters, things got a bit complicated when Eliot Flint got sick again and Erick had to look after him. He seemed to be having just as a dreadful summer as she was.

It wasn't that her mother, Lupin, and Sirius would leave her to rot inside this huge house, but they were adults who had their minds set on important matters, and she had nothing to do but overthink about him.

She still had feelings, but she was doing her best to bury them. Mel was hoping that once in Hogwarts she'd find a way to be okay with his existence. She didn't want to get rid of him altogether, that was impossible.

"I take that you're having a rough morning?" Sirius spoke from the doorway.

Mel gave a start, looking up from her seat at the kitchen table.

"I had a nightmare," She said drowsily.

"Same as before?" Sirius knew about her dreams, but that day she didn't want to talk about them. Today all she wanted to do was to sit in silence and drink her coffee.

"Have you had breakfast already?"

"No. I came here so Kreacher would stop nagging about me trying to steal the rubbish he keeps in the living room."

Sirius chuckled, walking up to the stove.

"Maybe if you praise my mother's portrait he'll stop..."

"Would love to, but I'm not a good liar."

"I can help you with that," He turned around for a moment. "Don't laugh when you speak, don't smile– if someone accuses you of causing mischief, act like it was the most insulting thing you've ever heard."

"What if they don't buy it?"

"Confidence is key, Mel. If you believe it, then it's done."

"Sirius, you're not giving my daughter bad advice, are you?" Emily walked in.

"Not at all," Sirius said, feigning surprise. "It shocks me that you think so, the only thing I want for Mel is her well being!"

"He's good..." Mel snickered.

"You have to pick your battles wisely, Paddie. A fifteen-year-old, or an experienced witch that's old enough to hex you," Emily warned him.

"I'll trust my luck," Sirius smirked.

"I got Molly's answer by the way," She ignored him, "The Weasleys will be here next Tuesday."

"Hang on... where will everyone sleep? I know the place is big, but..."

"Ginny can sleep with you," Emily started, "Ron can sleep in Phineas' room, the twins can sleep in the room next door to yours– Molly and Arthur can stay in Walburga's room..."

"But Sirius is in that room," Mel tilted her head.

"Yeah..." Emily glanced anxiously towards the man. "Sirius will take my room. I spend the night outside anyway, remember? Like uncle Lupin."

"But sometimes you don't."

"Little Em," Sirius told her. "Don't worry, your mother and I will make sure everyone's comfortable. As much as this bloody house can be..."

Mel knew Sirius was less than happy about spending his days locked up in the house where he'd lived the worse years of his life, but he was glad to have her, or at least he'd said as much. According to him, Mel was a lovely housemate.

She also knew there was something going on between the two adults. She could see it in the way Sirius would stare at her mother when she wasn't paying attention, and the way her mother would look more cheerful than usual after talking to him. The nights where she had to eat with the two blatantly flirting felt like personal karma from all those months she'd spent recklessly ogling at Harry in front of her friends.

"Can Hermione come too?" Mel asked.

"D'you think she'll want to come to this musty old place?"

"Please?"

Sirius sighed.

"Look at those eyes, Mily. I can't say no to those eyes!"

"Those are my eyes," The woman crossed her arms. "I can."

"I got my father's smile though," She said cheekily. "Please? It could be my first birthday surrounded by friends!"

"You heard that, Mily? Her birthday," Sirius said without missing a beat. "Are you going to deny such a simple request to your only daughter?"

"Oh, you two are unbelievable!"

"Is that a yes?"

"You have five minutes to write that letter and send it– Wipe that smirk off your face, Black. You're washing the dishes tonight."

Mel and Sirius high-fived, laughing at Emily's annoyance.

"And here's where we'll be sleeping!" Mel dragged Hermione into the room.

The house was definitely more fun now that the Weasleys and Hermione were there, from time to time some members of the order would visit as well as her uncle. The place almost felt like home.

"You're not sleeping with your mum?"

"My mum and Sirius share–" She stopped abruptly. "Mum goes out a lot, sometimes when she's here Sirius will give her his room so she can take the bed and he sleeps on the couch."

"Ginny sleeps here too?" Hermione examined the jumpers laying around on the other bed.

"Yeah!"

"How is she? She's over Harry now?" Hermione smiled. "She's okay with him liking you and all?"

Mel groaned internally. This was going to be a long month if people kept asking her about Harry.

"Harry doesn't like me."

"Please, Mel–"

"No," The girl interrupted. "I actually talked to him this time. Don't ask. It's better if we just forget it."

Hermione stared at her in shock.

"I–I could've sworn he... that he..."

"'Mione," Mel stared at her. "Forget it."

Hermione nodded, sitting down at the edge of the bed.

"Careful with the twins, by the way," She continued calmly. "They're free to do magic now, and they're out of control."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Ginny and Hermione were acting oddly ever since they found out she wasn't talking to Harry. They had the right to be, it was strange to see how unfeeling she was about being so far away from her former best friend. The twins and Ron, on the other hand, weren't that worried. They thought it was her way of coping and, in a way, it was.

They kept asking a lot of questions about Erick though, whether if he was to be trusted and exactly how much could they get away with. Mel thought it was funny, so she answered as many questions as she could.

Her birthday passed without much of a fuss, suddenly she was fifteen and just as quickly, Harry was too, but he wasn't there to celebrate. For the first time in weeks, she wished he could be there with them, she didn't dislike him as much as to wish him a bad birthday.

Hermione and Ron started to write to him. She tried to write a Happy Birthday note but it sounded stupid, she knew it'd be far from happy, all alone in Privet Drive. That night he would open his window only to see hers completely shut.

Erick's present had been one of those old radios his Grandad used to make with a note that said 'So you can practice your dancing' signed with two E's. She and the twins used it a lot while working on their products, that way it would drown the noise and their mothers wouldn't suspect as much. Mrs Weasley was on edge lately, Percy and his father had gotten into a real nasty fight and now the boy was gone, it had the poor woman in a terrible state.

One night after dinner, Fred walked into her room.

"Hey," She said without looking up. "Erick told me there's a station where they do these radio novels? I'm trying to find them, bet they're hilarious..." She said while toying with the buttons of the object.

"You're all right?" He asked, sitting next to her.

"Brilliant."

It was a lie. She'd been having a terrible headache for the past twenty minutes, probably because of the lack of sleep and the white noise.

"I'm not the best talker, and you don't have to say anything, but–"

"Not you too, Fred," Mel rolled her eyes, turning off the radio. "I told you I'm fine–"

"Exactly. I'd never seen you so calm about leaving Harry before, there must be something," He raised a brow.

"It's called growing up," She scoffed. "He's capable of looking after himself. You know it, I know it..."

"A real grown-up wouldn't avoid confrontation."

"That's rich coming from you, considering you keep hiding your products away from mummy."

"That's not fair, you know it's a safety measure!"

"Okay then," Mel stood up. "This is my safety measure. I don't talk about things that don't concern others..."

Fred caught her wrist and stopped her from leaving.

"Lady..."

"Using my nickname in that aching voice won't change my mind," She raised a brow. "Let go."

"Don't be grumpy, you're starting to sound real' bossy and you haven't gotten the Prefect badge yet!"

"Fred..." She tried to move. "Please, my head is killing me..."

"Did you guys fight?" He tilted his head, finally letting go. "I don't get why you fancy him if you're always bickering..."

"I don't like Harry."

"Yeah, right," Fred laughed.

"I don't," She tried to follow Sirius' advice and kept a neutral expression. "We went to the ball as friends. He saved me during the second task because I was his friend. What Skeeter wrote was rubbish, I don't fancy him."

"If you insist," Fred shrugged, but she could see he wasn't buying it.

He stood up as well and she realized, with a strange sense of accomplishment, that she was tall enough to reach his chin. She was about to point that out when something completely different came out.

"Why did you ask me to the ball?"

"What?"

"You said it was because you thought it'd be fun. Was that it?"

"Why does it matter?"

That was a good question.

Why did it matter?

But also, why not Fred? He was handsome, funny, smart...

It wasn't that she didn't like him, it was that she hadn't picked him. Sirius said there was more than one person for her, she just had to find them. Mel wasn't ready, but she would eventually, and if she could pick...

"It doesn't," Mel sighed. "I was curious, that's all. Ron used to think you fancied me, you know? I told them it was stupid..."

"Well, not stupid," Fred was quick to correct. "Just... I don't know, unlikely."

"Am I unworthy of your affection?" She joked.

He eyed her intently, like pondering the idea she had put out there. Suddenly, her mother stormed into the room.

"Harry was attacked," The woman blurted out.

"What?" Mel snapped, walking away from Fred.

"He's all right, but he used magic. The ministry has been looking for an excuse to get him– I'm afraid he just gave them one."

"Get him?"

"If we don't do something, he'll be expelled from Hogwarts."

"How– we're not– Do what?" She stammered.

"They're bringing him here," Her mother replied. "Harry's coming."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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