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hexpea · 10 months ago

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Ch. 4 - Conditions

"Are you sure you're okay alone?" You asked Seiko as you put on your shoes to head out for the day. The two of you stood at the entrance to your hotel room having final contemplations about getting this divorce finalized. "You can...come if you want? I just figured it would be...awkward for you."

"I'm sure, I'm fine," Seiko reassured you for the thousandth time that morning. Your nerves had you psyched out since the minute you got back from your parents' place. "I've plenty to do on my Tokyo sightseeing tour to keep myself busy. Don't worry about me...at all. Go, get that signature," they smiled as you stood straight again.

"I will," you gave a reassuring breath before turning to open the door. "Love you!" You called back.

"Love you, too!" Seiko's voice lingered in your ears as you shut the door behind yourself.

You left the hotel early, making sure to reach him before he had the chance to leave on any missions or whatever it was he was up to in the present. Your palms already felt sweaty as you began your journey to Gojo's apartment. You had shoved the papers you needed into your bag, they were folded up tight in the center pouch.

With a train ride to the other side of downtown and a bit of a walk, you found yourself standing in front of the large building made of glass. You could immediately tell that Gojo was using his wealth to his advantage. You couldn't blame him.

You didn't know much about his parents or his upbringing beside when the two of you would play together as kids. From what you did see of them, they were uptight and sticklers for tradition. But, clearly, parent-less life was suiting Satoru. A part of you couldn't blame him there either.

You walked into the lobby and stared at the resident information board organized by last name to find 'Gojo' listed on one of the higher floors. Of course he'd take no less than something penthouse level. You stared at the black button that would buzz his apartment for a few moments too long. You actually had to step out of the way for another person to buzz an apartment and head in before you worked up the nerve to even press a fingertip to its surface.

You took a deep breath and pressed down. You thought your heart was beating a million miles a minute but it increased ten-fold when you heard static begin on the intercom. You were about to hear the voice of the man you were once married to, technically still, whom you hadn't seen in three whole years.

"Hello?" Gojo's muffled voice came through sounding a bit skeptical, clearly not expecting visitors. He sounded like his usually cheery, arrogant self, as expected. You were stuck between thinking his personality was charming or irritating.

"Hi," your voice was small as you brought yourself close to the intercom to speak, swallowing hard though your mouth was dry. You spoke lowly so as to not give away the shaking tone of embarrassment.

"Who's this?" He continued with a twinge of playful irritation, you could hear his smile through his speech. Your voice sounded familiar to him, but he just couldn't pinpoint from exactly where with the static interference.

"It's...Y/N," you hesitated once more, the tone of your voice going down even further when you said your name, as if trying to keep it a secret.

A loud, obnoxious laugh came through the intercom the minute you finished. "No way!" He chuckled excitedly. "Come on up!"

With that, a sound in the lobby started to buzz with the sound of a lock mechanism unlocking following. It allowed you passage through the set of double doors heading to the elevators. You made sure to give a polite nod to the front desk attendant before continuing on your way.

You boarded the elevator and took it up to his floor, reading the various door numbers until you found his. You took another deep breath before knocking firmly, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. Your eyes darted between the two directions, not wanting to be caught dead in front of his door as if the others that lived there knew you.

Moments later, the door swung open, revealing the tall and imposing figure of Gojo Satoru. His trademark cocky grin with all pearly whites showing and his signature, and infinitely annoying, confident aura were as present as ever. He wore a jujutsu tech uniform telling you he was still involved with the school in some form or fashion. What else did you expect? It was just as you had left him and you were quickly reminded of your irritation.

"Y/N, what brings you here?" He asked, leaning against the doorframe to his flat, staring at you through his dark blindfold.

His casual, cheery demeanor this early in the morning was maddening. It was almost as if the last time you saw him wasn't at the courthouse to somberly file away what was invalid divorce papers.

"Well," you sighed, your confidence beginning to come back now that you had seen him, your mission in mind, "it turns out we're still married. And," you reached into your bag and handed him the papers you needed signed, "I need you to sign those to finalize everything."

Gojo raised an eyebrow from behind his blindfold; you could see his brow muscle twitch to form the motion. His playful demeanor was clearly never going to waver.

"Oh, so you've finally decided to give up on me, huh? Well, it's about time." His grin was crooked becoming crookeder as he leaned down to your level and saw the flames building behind your eyes. You didn't like the idea he was implying.

"You were the one who asked in the first place!" You corrected him, this scene of anger vs. playfulness something that was seen often in your conversations with him while married. "I just want this to be over with, Gojo. Sign these so we can put this behind us once and for all," you demanded.

"Yeesh, back on a last name basis then," he muttered as he stood up straight and unfolded the papers that you handed him to give them a quick scan. You hated the way he smiled while reading them over. He was eagerly gripping the pages, nearly wrinkling them in the process.

He snapped his attention back to you with a mischievous glint in his smile. "Sure, I'll sign these, but I've got a condition, Y/N."

You were taken aback though you should've seen something like this coming from a million miles away. You felt your face turning red, heat pooling to the tip of your nose. His arrogance was as exasperating as ever.

"What's your condition, Gojo?" You caved, not wanting to argue further. If whatever it was was easy, then it was better to oblige him than fight with him.

A triumphant smile spread across his face as he leaned in closer to you once more, close enough that you could nearly smell the minty freshness of his breath. Your palms suddenly felt sweaty again as you felt the heat coming from between your faces, close in proximity.

"I want a date with you."

You just about raged as he said that, but he stopped you with a finger to your lips, a hush. You immediately furrowed your brow with even more rage.

"...Just one," he purred, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing as you hesitantly leaned away from his personal space intrusion. "You and me, dinner, and a chance to catch up."

You swallowed hard at the request. There was no reason for your mouth to be this dry, for you to be this nervous. A 'date' with your ex-husband was the last thing you wanted, but it seemed that he was determined to maintain his self-important and cocky attitude, even in this situation.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded in reluctant agreement. "Fine, one night out," you allowed, making sure to change the phrasing. He retracted his body, standing straight once more. "But you sign these papers first."

Gojo chuckled, his arrogance unrelenting. "Not so fast, Y/N. Dinner first, then I'll sign the papers. You won't get off that easily." He seemed to revel in the power play, and you found yourself trapped in his charismatic, yet infuriating, web once again.

"Again," you rolled your eyes while trying not to stutter, "you were the one who asked for the divorce."

Gojo's laughter continued to echo through the hallway. "True," he conceded, "but I never said I didn't enjoy a little game of cat and mouse, Y/N. It's not like we ended things on a bad note and you happily agreed to the divorce. And without hesitation, might I add," he held up a finger. You remained silent with a scowl on your face. "Listen, I may get the better of you, but you like me, right?" He acted normally as the negative expression on your face grew. "Let's catch up!"

You sighed, his demeanor both antagonizing and oddly nostalgic. "Fine, dinner it is. But I expect you to sign the papers after. I'm trying to get married again after all," you crossed your arms and leaned on one leg impatiently. You didn't know why you didn't lead with that in the first place.

Gojo's expression briefly dropped, his usual confident personality faltering for a moment. His eyes widened in surprise unbeknownst to you before he quickly masked his reaction with a smirk. "Well, well, well, Y/N," he said with a hint of his usual playfulness, "you don't waste any time, do you? Who's the lucky one this time?"

You ground your teeth at his question. He knew all the right ways to get under your skin, as he did with many people that knew him. But nonetheless, you decided to answer him.

"Their name is Seiko," you muttered, "and they're none of your business."

Gojo raised an eyebrow again, studying your face for a moment before letting out a low whistle. He knew he could get more out of you at the dinner. "Seems like I've got some competition, huh?"

"No," you quickly answered, glaring at him with all your might.

"Well," he clicked his tongue, "I guess I'll have to wish you the best."

Your mouth quivered into a smile. You could tell that he was being genuine with his last statement. You realized that beneath his hardened, exuberant exterior there might be a single hint of real concern for your happiness.

"What time?" You found yourself asking without extra thought, the quivering lips you had had turning into the tiniest smile. You internally scolded yourself for even trying to continue that conversation.

"What time for dinner?" Gojo repeated, tilting his chin upward in thought. "Are you free tonight?"

"T-tonight?" It was your turn to repeat. Gojo gave a single nod, still waiting for your answer. You had made plans with Seiko to go atop the Tokyo Tower later that evening but if getting this dinner over with meant accomplishing your mission, perhaps Seiko would understand. "I guess so."

"Great! Seven?" He tilted his chin downward this time, expectant of another answer. You stared at him angrily. He remembered you well enough to take that look as a 'yes.' "Perfect," he relaxed his smile and placed a hand on his doorknob, the other still holding your divorce papers. "And you're staying...?" You muttered your hotel name in response and then glanced at the pages he still had. "I'll keep these," he lifted them, "for safekeeping," he whispered and slowly shut the door.

"Gojo!" You tried to stop the door from closing, your foot darting out but it was too late. He had already shut and locked the door. "Great," you muttered to yourself. Of course this couldn't be easy.

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojou x reader #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojou x you #gojou satoru x y/n #satoru gojou x y/n #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojou satoru #satoru gojou

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justatypicalwizard · 2 years ago

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Wants Within | S. Shinazugawa | Chapter 7

✦ Sanemi Shinazugawa x femReader!, college au, reader is adult

✦ Synopsis: You're a college student taking classes with a very strict lecturer- professor Shinazugawa. Because of an unfortunate even you got on his bad side so now you're trying everything to regain in his eyes. Well, you most certainely didn't expect that kind of attention.

✦ Word count: 1,1k

18+, minors do not interact

The trip came to an end and you found yourself back at the dorms. After hearing the fight between the Kochou sisters and Shinazugawa, you thought about it a lot. He seemed so hurt back then. You still didn't know the other part of the story, maybe he did some bad things though. Well, you will most likely never know. There was also one more thing that crossed your mind many times. During the fight, Shinazugawa mentioned him being an orphan. That was some deep shit. In your eyes, he only looked more intimidating and somehow powerful. Achieving all that he had, while growing up with no parents and taking care of a brother. Damn, that man must be made out of stone.

All of that came back to you while you were getting dressed for the science fair. It was an annual party that your university held for all of its workers and students, as well as anybody who would be willing to come. They showed the biggest achievements of the previous year, some new projects, student work and so on. You felt like coming because Shinazugawa would be giving a free lecture.

After realising you may have a crush of your professor you felt kinda dumb but at the same time kinda good. It was just so nice, thinking about him, imagining scenarios and talking to him when you met him in the corridor or after lectures. No, you did not plan to hit on him, obviously. Yet, your small crush was not hurting anyone, was it?

✦

You found the class that Shinazugawa was supposed to give his lecture in. It was a big one with many seats and a huge blackboard. There was also a small exhibition with student work, mostly from Shinazugawas classes. Stepping closer to it, you spotted something familiar. It was your research, the additional one that you did some time ago. Reading through the text you reassured that it was, in fact, your piece of work. Looking around you spotted Shinazugawa looking at you. You pointed to the piece of paper, hanging on a board and grinned. He nodded your way with a small smile. The white haired man was just about to stand up from his seat when professor Rengoku came to him.

''What are you looking at, lady?'' You heard an unfamiliar voice behind you.

Turning around, you saw a tall man hovering upon you. He had a very classy suit that had many extravagant details about it. Some crystal looking things, red boots and fancy glasses chains. He had white hair, tied up in a ponytail.

''The work here.'' You spat out, not sure what to do.

''Hmm, I see.'' he hummed, looking at the piece of paper. ''And what's so interesting about it?''

''It's mine actually.'' You answered bluntly.

''Oh wow, how flamboyant.'' What?

Leaning over your shoulder, he took a look at your work.

''So your name is Y/N L/N? Truly pretty, suits a pretty girl like you.'' He grinned.

''Ah... thank you?'' Your voice didn't sound convincing.

''I guess, you're a student here, aren't you?''

''Yes.''

''What a pity, then asking you out for coffee gets slightly more extravagant. Yet, a sweet girl like you makes my doubts go away.'' He flashed you a smile.

''Ah...''

Meanwhile, Rengoku and Shinazugawa talked by the desk.

''See, I told you giving her more time would benefit.'' The blonde felt victorious.

''Yes, yes, you're always true. Now drop it'' Shinazugawa got annoyed.

''Did she come out that bad?''

''Why do you ask?''

''I've heard she was the only student that came to your field trip lecture. You two must have talked.''

''No, she was quite okay. A regular student.''

''Really, because you're glancing at her all the time. Usually, you would sit with your nose in your laptop.'' Rengoku wasn't convinced.

''What are you suggesting?''

''Nothing.'' The blonde waved his hands in front of his friend's angry face. ''Just so you know, it's nothing wrong. She's an adult, you're also one. She'll just have to take different classes, with some other professor.''

''Are you out of your mind?''

''No, I think I'm not.'' Rengoku shrugged. ''So if you're really not interested in her it won't bother you that Tengen is just talking with her, you know, his way.''

Shinazugawas head shot your way instantly, he didn't even think much about it.

''There you go.'' Rengoku sweatdropped.

''Shut up.'' With that, the white haired man stood up and went your way.

''So what do you think? Coffee later, maybe you could tell me something about that research, what motivated you to do it, how do you feel about it?'' The unknown man was still trying to pursue you.

''Tengen, cut the crap.'' Shinazugawas voice ringed in your ear as he reached you.

''Welcome professor.'' You greeted him happily.

''Hello, hello dear Shinazugawa.'' Tengen looked at him with a slick smile. ''How are you today?''

''Very good, I would be even better if I knew you were not hitting on my student, in my class, in front of everyone without any qualms.''

''Oh, okay mister grumpy.'' Tengen laughed. ''I'm just interested in our today's youth.''

''Of course. Miss L/N, don't treat this too seriously, he acts like that with every woman he meets.'' Shinazugawa turned your way.

''No need to worry, I'm sorry Mister Tengen but I was not actually considering your offer.'' You laughed awkwardly.

''Too bad, was this too sudden?'' He didn't drop the topic.

''No, it's just...'' You really wanted to end this part of the conversation and you had to think about something that would shut him for good. ''I'm already interested in someone else.''

''I see, then I must not ruin this, please forgive me.'' He made a funny, shocked look. ''I must leave now for my lecture, sorry to end such an interesting conversation in the middle, we may meet again at the university sometime. Adios.'' The man bowed before you and walked away, with that slick smile still plastered on his face.

Wait, was he a professor here? That was so weird! A professor just hit on you.

''Seriously, don't take it as anything special. He's... just like that all the time.'' Shinazugawa sighed.

''I get it, it was still weird though.'' You let out a small laugh. ''And kinda funny. Anyway, did you want something from me, professor?''

It struck the white haired, he didn't have any business for you. He just saw Tengen doing Tengen things and he didn't feel right knowing you were hit on by someone. Why did he do that? Why did he feel the urge to go and get Tengen off of you? Shit, he was doing weird things.

''Just wanted to tell you about the work that I posted here.'' He came up with an excuse.

''Oh, thank you so much. I appreciate it. It feels great to see that your work actually means something.'' You grinned, happy with yourself.

''That's true.''

Looking at the time, he excused himself and went back to his desk, the lecture was about to start. One thought clouded his mind and he couldn't stop to think about it.

You said that you were interested in someone already. Who was that?

SERIES MASTERLIST

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #college #university #college student #shinazugawa x reader #demon slayer shinazugawa #shinazugawasanemi #sanemi x y/n #sanemi smut

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doctorho · 16 days ago

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okay! i originally named this blog virtual desk drawer because i wanted to share my writing without thinking about it too much, so here's some Very Old OC Writing? honestly i was surprised both ways reading it (wow i've gotten better vs wow wait this is actually good!) which was nice?

from what i could find, the story was...very scattered, and there wasn't that much of it. i still don't really remember this world. from what i gather, my characters were a teenaged boy and a girl, in a friends-to(enemies?)lovers situation (of course. of course!) and they have some weird superpowers (she can sense energy fields around her and talk to ghosts, he can teleport and read thoughts. they do not know of each others powers. unclear if superpowers are common in this universe).

here's some tidbits i liked. the urge to edit them was strong, but i kept their original form aside from putting them in An Order and giving it some he said she said signifyers here and there to make it more readable. but i figured it would be fun to stay truthful to my 16-year-old brain. enjoy?)

1. here's just some fun dialogue i found;

"The easy way or the hard way?" She asked, walking ahead.

He followed. "Which one is more fun?"

"Neither. We'll take the hard way."

2. and a special little treat from his POV:

She looked at the clothes. "You think I should try that on?"

I would kill to see her in that.

And eat what I've killed.

And then kill its best friend.

3. and a longer little piece of something; seems like my favorite part of writing anything was wallowing in the Feelings even then. good to know i'm consistent i guess?

She looked at the house that had always been her best friend. Rain was falling, and the scent of earth and mud surrounded her.

Everything was ordinary and grey. Except for the water, which was wet.

She watched the rain reform the world around her, and she closed her eyes and breathed it in. This was how she liked the world, calm and alive and shimmering.

She wanted to enjoy the all-covering silence. She could feel the whole world shiver with energy around her.

Then she opened her eyes, and instantly closed them again.

Even with the rain blurring her view, she knew that figure. She knew that warm, buzzing energy. She knew those eyes.

The only eyes in the world that could peel back all her layers and see right into her soul.

She had to clear her head before she'd dare to face them.

"No," she whispered, so quietly that even the ghosts couldn't hear.

He stopped.

There was a faint puff and the boy was gone.

What the hell?

She gathered herself and wondered if she'd imagined the whole thing - it would make sense. Her brain did that sometimes. Hoped he was there when he wasn't. Maybe she'd just leveled up to straight up hallucinating.

She took a couple of very deep breaths and stepped into the house. The floorboards were creaky, but she didn't mind. She knew exactly which boards made which noises, which was handy when she had to locate ghosts - they had feet too. Except in the case of blindworms, which didn't much interest her. Dead blindworms were pretty miserable company.

She stood still with her eyes closed. She took a deep breath in and slowly let it out, trying to stay calm even though internally, her brain couldn't keep track of the situation. Her heart even less so.

She could feel a buzzing ball of energy approaching her slowly, carefully. Him again. And when she opened her eyes, her calm exterior crumbled.

"This might be a stupid question, but…uh…why are you wearing my high heels?"

There was a faint puff and he dissapeared again.

"STOP DOING THAT!" She yelled after him.

"I returned your heels." He said from behind her. Not that she didn't know that he was there, but…he was a lot closer than she'd anticipated.

She turned around.

They stared at each other quietly until she said, "this is stupid."

"Don't you want to know why I'm here?"

"I assumed you had a good reason. An international financial crisis or something."

He looked up and exhaled a small, quiet laugh.

"You," he corrected her.

She mimicked his earlier laugh, or at least tried to. It might have come out as at least half a sigh.

"If you can do…that," she said, "then why the fuck did you only show up now?"

He looked at her calmly, quietly. Then, finally, "I wanted you to be sure of your feelings first."

His voice was gentle, lightly traveling through the room, calming all the shadows in the corners.

When she met his eyes, he smirked.

"Right," she sighed. "Okay, I have to sit down." She searched for a grip from the wall and sat on the floor. "Go away. I have to think."

"Do you really want me to leave?"

He sat next to her, and she didn't object. It would've been useless anyway. Her composure was melting, slipping right through her fingers.

The closer he got, the stickier her thoughts became. They tangled up and stuck to each other like mouldy jam; the closer he got to her, the warmer her brain got, her thoughts heating up from the friction of tumbling over each other. He was here, and he was close, and his shoulder was brushing hers, and her thoughts were melting together in a red-hot goo. She couldn't help herself, and she didn't really even want to.

"Nice to know you feel that way." He said.

She blushed.

"If you've- I mean-" She cleared her throat, "have you known since the beginning what I-?"

Silence.

She took a breath. "Okay." She exhaled, "Well, uh, why…didn't you say anything?"

He took a breath and then exhaled a quiet, tired laugh.

"You're so fucking stubborn," he said quietly, "and…so fucking fragile."

His voice was a little sad, but he took a breath and shook it off.

She looked away.

She was just waiting for something inside her to break, to finally fall to the floor and shatter. "I can't-" She started, and she could instantly see the shift in him.

He was more alert now, and his eyes turned analytical. Like a fire in them had gone out. And then he waited for her to explain. Give him a guideline of how this would go.

She sighed and continued. "I…I feel like you're just toying with me."

The honesty of the statement made her feel see-through and small and like she didn't quite know how to breathe.

He met her eyes - his own eyes so stupid and warm and knowing, and always so damn deep - and then he whispered, smiling, "you can't tell me that this isn't a damn good game."

She let him get closer even though she knew she was going to lose her mind soon if they kept it up.

She closed her eyes and sighed. "If you get any closer, I'm going to fall in love with you."

For a second, even the dust and the ghosts in the corners held their breath.

He leaned closer quietly. Close enough for his warmth to mingle with hers, and for the buzzing at the peripherals of her brain to go quiet.

A small thought unfurled itself in her head; he was so close.

What if she just got a little bit closer.

On purpose.

Break that barrier for good.

When she realized he could probably hear what she was thinking, she blushed. Again.

He was looking at her, stupid amber-deep eyes shimmering.

"What are you thinking?" She asked, and slowly, he wrapped his arms around her. It was quiet for a while.

That almost worked as an answer, but also not really. Not enough. "Hey," she started, carefully, "uh, does this...does this work the other way around, too?" She tilted her head to look at him, "can you make other people hear your thoughts?"

He blushed.

"You can! Tell me how!"

He was quiet. She continued persuading him in her head, even though she wasn't sure if he was listening or not.

"Do you really want to know what's going on in my head?" He asked, then answered himself, "well, I guess you do," he sighed, "Okay. You'll only share my powers for a moment, but I feel like I should warn you, I think this this is still...a pretty irreversible thing."

He waited for her to meet his eyes, and then cleared his throat. "Close your eyes."

She does, and then she felt his energy shiver in the air, different than before. Like it had gotten warmer. Closer.

What was happening hit her like a brick.

Wait. Are you going to- you can't - I don't want to have our first kiss on the kitchen floor!

"Oh. Okay." He said quietly, and pulled her close to his chest.

And then something happened, and she opened her eyes to blink at a medieval-looking room of some sort.

"Nice of you to warn me beforehand," she said, pushing herself away from his chest, "where are we?"

He cleared his throat again. "A different place. And time. And...uh, reality."

She stared at him. "So you have a teleport, a crystal ball, a time machine, an airplane and a dimenional portal of some sort just, like, ingrained in you?"

He shrugs.

She takes a breath. Well, she was weird too. She probably shouldn't judge. "Aren't there any other people here?"

"No," he answers, "you sort of...stopped this time."

"Excuse me?"

He waved a hand. "That's irrelevant."

She sat on the bed. Blinked. Right.

He took a careful step closer.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

She looked at him like he was out his mind, and he chuckled. "Right. I guess you are."

(and then they kiss :))

4. here's a fun little bonus Situation;

She looked at the sparkling, silky set of clothes.

"I'm not going to wear this," she whispered to the empty room. She knew she wasn't alone, not really.

He appeared to the edge of the bed, tilted his head, and looked at her, again with those stupidly intelligent eyes. He could see right through her, and she was pretty sure he knew it. It was infuriating.

"Where did you even buy these?" she asked, "these must have cost more than my phone!"

He grinned. "Who said I bought them?"

She took long, silky gloves from the box and swatted at him with them.

Then she took a breath and sighed it out. "Fine," she whispered, "but if you laugh I'll stuff you into these."

fam i found an old diary from when i was SIXTEEN and apparently i had a WHOLE OC that i used to write about???? completely forgot about this. i have been reading this stuff and i still have NO memory of making it. none. zero. if you'd asked me if i had any OCs i used to write about i would have said no. genuinely do not remember making these guys up.

but anyway i think some of it is genuinely pretty funny so do you guys want to see??

#old writing #scribbles #i guess?#also found some old writing about how i was contemplating sharing this in deviantart but didn't have the guts to #so i guess this is me honoring my 16 y old self? hey look i grew the guts :)#and seeing this was honestly fun!#i felt like an archeologist going through my old notevo #notebooks

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dylanmunson · 2 years ago

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summary: okay okay so your steve the hair harringtons younger sister, little miss sunshine with the cool kids, co captain of the cheer team.

(there may be a part two to this if you want it? let me know!)

Vol 2 /// Vol 3

word count : 2.7k

wattpad /// masterlist /// request

//////////////

Welcome to hellfire

Starting your junior year after the summer break was nerve racking to say the least, Steve was no longer there to guide you through the hell hole that is hawkins high.

You werent fussed about school, you had everything going for you, a decent friend group, co captain of the cheer team, reasonably good grades across the board, you just craved something, you just werent sure what that something was.

'y/n youve got 10mins till we need to leave' steve says popping his head into your room, him driving you to school along with dustin and mike. Who you had grown close to, thanks to your older brothers babysitting the teens. You sigh pulling your cheer outfit on, putting your hair into a braid over your shoulder and pulling on your converse before walking down the stairs to grab a poptart. Smiling at Steve as he grabs an apple and his keys.

You arrive at school with mike and dustin arguing about some dnd thing, 'good luck today' steve says looking into the mirror at the younger boys, they stop bickering and look at the older boy 'thanks steve' dustin smiles before getting out the car, mike following behind him. 'keep an eye on each other yeah' he smiles at you, pulling you into a hug, you hum in response 'have a good day at work' you grin, he rolls his eyes,before opening your door 'go' he chuckles, you nod waving getting out of the car.

You walk towards the big double doors, and heading to your first class sighing when you realise its maths with Ms O Donnels. Her lessons were the worst, you and everyone else in that class would count down the minutes till the bell went.

You walked in and sat near the back of the room, not wanting to have to deal with this first thing on a Monday morning. The second bell goes and more students start filling up the empty chairs, before Ms o Donnels enters with a student 'Mr munson, front and centre' she sighs 'repeating senior year again i see' she looks down at the papers on her desk 'take a seat mr munson' she sighs sitting in her chair behind the desk. You frown if hes repeating senior year why is he in your junior math class?

The only chair now left empty is the one next to you, you quickly move your bag from the chair as he pulls it out to sit next to you, you look up at the older boy, his doe like eyes twinkling in the sun, making all the different shades of brown melt together. His pink pillow like lips forming into a smirk,you blink a few times before turning away, coughing trying to ignore the fact you were just checking him out. He chuckles lightly and sits down.

Now instead of doing the actual class work, this munson kid is sat drawing what looks like a half elf half human character person thing, you frown and look at the drawing, watching him concentrate on the drawing in front of him. 'Its rude to stare sweetheart' he chuckles not even looking up, 'i uh im not' you mumble looking away back to your work. He chuckles looking towards you 'i could feel your eyes burning into my skin doll' he smirks, you groan 'whatcha think' he grins passing the piece of paper with the drawing on to you. You look down at the paper and look at the character he's drawn, little notes written around it.

'whats it for?' you mumble, to which he just shrugs his shoulders 'Eddie Munson eyes on the front' Ms O Donnel calls, the boy next to you rolling his eyes looking forward, resting his chin on his hand with a bored look on his face. 'its for my campaign' he smiles softly still facing the front. 'campaign?' 'yeah my dnd campaign, yano dungeons and dragons' 'ohh the fantasy game with' 'wait you know it?' he looks at you surprised, you frown 'yeah kinda? i mean the kids my brother babysits play and sometimes i watch' you shrug, he nods his head 'ever played sweetheart?' you shake your head 'but id like to?' you say, it coming out more of a question then anything else. He grins 'of course you would sweetheart' he chuckles shaking his head

'whats that meant to mean?' you mumble as the bell goes, he gets up, shoving the piece of paper into his back pocket. 'nothing doll' he smiles before walking out of the class room. You groan and quickly pack everything up before following him out 'hey, eddie wait' you shout walking towards the taller boy but before you reach him, hes disappeared. Your next few class go by quiet quickly, and at lunch time you decide to sit with dustin and mike to see how their first day of high school is going. Both boys looking semi defeated with the day already, you chuckle wrapping your arms around them both 'it cant be that bad' you grin at them before sitting across the table from them. The two of them now talking about dnd again 'i wonder if theres any dnd clubs' dustin says, playing with the food in front of him, mike shrugs 'i dunno man' Lucas runs over sitting next to the boys 'lucas!' you grin getting up and giving the younger boy a hug, he chuckles before letting go. 'hows your fi-' 'did i hear you mentioning dnd' you look up to be faced with mr doe eyes. 'yeaah?' mike says unsure of whats about to happen, looking up at the older boy.

'Oh well' he chuckles 'we have a dnd club here, called hellfire if you dare to join that is' he grins at the younger three, dustin quick to shot up 'can we really?' he grins, the older boy chuckling nodding his head 'taster session, wednesday, after school in the old drama block, im eddie by the way.' he grins 'sweetheart' he nods at you before walking away, the three younger boys to focused in their own conversation to notice. You frown at the older boy as he walks away back to his table, the rest of lunch filled with the three younger boys talking about the taster session.

The rest of the day flying by as you have a free period then cheer practise, Wednesday soon rolls around and your about to leave your final class and head to the old drama block to watch the younger three in their game, when Jennifer pulls you by the arm. 'where you going silly, we've got cheer' she chuckles, 'oh. oh yeah' you smile softly, kinda disappointed you cant go straight to the drama studio. You get to the gym and notice some of the basketball team are pissing about as you get to business working on your new cheer routine.

An hour later and cheer is over, all the other girls now walking home, you look towards the old drama building before walking towards the doors and down the hallway where you see a sign that reads 'Welcome to Hellfire' you can hear shouting from the three younger boys, followed by laughing. You sigh raising your hand to knock before dropping it. Shaking your head then knocking on the door. The room goes quiet and you hear someone quietly swearing before the door is opened.

'y/n what are you doing here?' you hear dustin say from in front of you, but your attention being on the little fairy lights and props hanging around the big throne that is sat at the end of the room. 'oh i uh, do you guys need a lift home?' you smile, Dustin looks back to the other boys then to you. 'y/n we're no where near done here, we'll just bike home, thank you though' he smiles going to close the door. 'wait dustin' you sigh putting your hand on the door pushing it back open, Eddie now standing from the throne and making his way over to you both.

'i was um' 'speak up princess' eddie says looking down at you, you groan playing with your nails, 'can i watch?' you look up at the boy with long curly hair, he grins nodding moving out of the way, dustin frowns looking between you both as you walk in, all the other boys slightly surprised that little miss sunshine has entered their space. 'make space for the lady' Eddie says making his way back to his throne, sitting down and crossing his hands. The boys all look among each other before moving slightly, 'm'lady' eddie says hand out towards the chair next to him. You bite your lip and sit next to him 'sorry' you mumble 'what was that princess?' he grins, seeing you squirm at the nickname.

'Sorry' you say more clearly, he chuckles 'dont be, these boys dont know how to behave in front of a lady such as yourself' he smiles softly at you, 'now where were we' he grins clapping his hands and carrying on with the game.

The game coming to an end, Eddie turning towards the younger boys and grinning 'so?' 'can we join?!' 'whens the next campaign?!' they start saying and talking over each other which just makes eddie chuckle leaning back into his throne. 'Welcome to hellfire boys' he grins shaking their hands 'next campaign starts friday, same time, same place, but i must warn you' he smiles standing up and beginning to pack everything away. 'i wont be going as easy as today' he grins turning towards them'Friday' he nods as everyone begins leaving the room. Everyone slowly leaving, but you stay behind to help clean up, 'um could i' you start to mumble before clearing your throat. 'mhm?' Eddie hums looking at you 'would i be able to watch again on friday?' you says looking down biting your lip. Causing eddie to chuckle nodding 'you sure you wanna spend your friday evening in a room with 6 sweaty boys' he laughs 'doesnt jason have a party that everyone and their mothers are invited to?'

You shake your head 'i mean he does, but' you shrug your shoulders 'parties arent really my thing' you sigh, 'if not its ok, i just i had a good time watching you guys play is all' you shrug playing with your nails again. He smiles picking up your bag 'then of course you can princess' he grins, walking towards the door 'wa-' 'come i'll give you a lift home, its getting late and a lady as pretty as yourself shouldnt be walking home alone at this time of the evening' he smiles 'its barely even 8 eddie' you chuckle following the boy. 'i know' he grins walking you towards his van.

++++++++++

It was now Friday and you were sat in the library finishing up your character sheet for dnd, you werent planning on playing but since you had sat in on the game the other night, your head was full of ideas for your own character. The way Eddie was as dungeons master was something else, and to be honest with yourself it was making you feel something. You sigh as you pull out your note pad and start sketching up your character, only getting a rough sketch before the final bell goes signalling the end of the day.

You grab your bag and begin walking to the old drama building where hellfire was being held, you open the door and are met with Eddie and Jeff. 'am i early?' you say looking around the room, 'yeaa-' 'no princess, everyone else is just late' he shots Jeff a look to which the shorter boy just rolls his eyes and moves to his seat. You nod your head finding your seat next to eddie, since nobody else was here you open your notebook again and begin working away at your character. 'and whats this' eddie grins taking the book from you 'hey' you sigh 'eddddddieee' you whine, 'well well well' he chuckles looking down at you, 'if you wanted to play all you had to do was ask sweetheart' he chuckles putting your book down.

'Absolutely not ' Jeff says 'shut it' Eddie says harshly back to the boy 'i dunno how to' you shrug, 'ill walk your through it, how about that' he grins coming to eye level with you, you shrug your shoulders trying to look away from the beautiful boy in front of you 'sweetheart' he grins 'can i just watch today, maybe play another time?' you mumble as he has his hand on your cheek making you face him. 'of course' he smiles letting go of your cheek as everyone else slowly starts filling into the room.

You nod, kind of disappointed he let go of your face, his hands were warm, rough but felt nice against your cheek, your cheeks turning a pink shade as you think about it, Eddie noticing from the corner of his eye.

The campaign now in its third hour and your beginning to feel more confident around the boys, you grab another drink that Gareth had so kindly brought along for everyone, it being the first campaign of this school year and everyone knowing it could easily go on into early hours of the next morning. So Gareth being a little sweetheart brought snacks and drinks for everyone.

You turn to Eddie as he stands from his seat. 'Your walking through the woods, swords and bows at the ready, when you see lady sunshine being held hostage by trolls' he grins

'what?!'

'who?'

'noo, we just beat off those bastards'

'who the fuck is lady sunshine'

'now now boys, what do you do?' he grins taking a seat, looking towards you 'lady sunshine, catches the eye of eddie the banished, put under a spell what do you do?' he grins at you, you go red in the cheeks shaking your head.

Jeff groans shaking his head 'we move on, let eddie the banished be' he rolls his eyes 'Hey' eddie shouts, making the boys sit back and rethink their next move.

'we save lady sunshine?' dustin shrugs 'we save her, end the trolls and eddie the banished is no longer under a spell' lucas shrugs looking at eddie, Eddie grins at the boys, a smirk pulling at his lips 'is that your plan?' he chuckles, the boys groan and come up with a plan to save lady sunshine, chuckle just grins and turns to you smiling softly. You shake your head looking down, eddie grins 'lady sunshine' he smiles looking at you.

+++++

The campaign now in its fifth hour, the boys having saved lady sunshine and moving forward. 'Right i think now would be a good place to pause' eddie chuckles making all the boys groan

'what?!"

'but we're just getting to the good bit'

he chuckles shaking his head 'well carry on where we left off next week' he smiles the boys groan, and roll there eyes but begin to pack away, knowing better then to argue with their dungeons master. Once again you stay to help tidy everything away, it just you and eddie now left in the old drama room.

'Eddie?' you smile playing with the sleeves of your jumper, he hums and turns to you 'would you consider teaching me?' you smile biting your lip, he looks down at you 'of course lady sunshine' he grins wrapping a hand around your waist 'as long as it doesnt hurt your reputation' he chuckles, you shake your head rolling your head 'i dont care even if it does' you smile at the boy. He nods his head 'yeah i'll teach you, but itll cost ya' he grins 'how about you teach me to play and well go out for food afterwards?' you grin biting your lip 'its a date' he chuckles 'i mean like a day, its a date as in a day' he smiles going red 'oh, so not a date' you smile softly at the boy, he looks at you with an open mouth but no words coming out.

'tomorrow?' you smile, he closes his mouth and nods his head 'tomorrow.' he chuckles 'come i'll drop you off at home' he smiles leading you out of the room.

#eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #mine #dylanmunson #imagine #eddie imagine

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kenmaiid · 3 years ago

Text

Gaming Headcanons

(Or how the Brothers play games with MC) Brothers + gn!reader just a fun little idea that bounced around in my head after I made the Barbatos version. you can view everything romantically or platonically! doesn't matter

dateables + Luke

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Lucifer:

Are you insane? You think that the oh-so-busy Lucifer would have time to play silly games with you? Really? Okay well, maybe sometimes. For a moment you think he might scold you for slacking off, but another part of him welcomes it. Especially since you seemed to want his attention.

Ask him on the right day when he’s not massively overloaded with a lot of work, he’ll make time. A break now and then is good after all.

Lucifer will make it seem as casual as possible though, but he’s secretly pleased the change of pace. (even if he says otherwise)

Frankly he strikes me as the type to secretly play Candy Crush under his desk when the paperwork and files become too much. He gets addicted to those terrible time-waster sandbox games, and hates that he really enjoys them. But focusing on them brings a sort of... peaceful distraction...

But if you'd like to play a game with him he seems more like the type to excel in card games or board games. Things like poker or chess and stimulating things are the best options!

If it’s a game you're new to and completely unfamiliar with he’d absolutely take the time to teach you how to play it. Get ready for an extensive step by step on how to play for the next hour!

He’s not opposed to other types of games though. Levi’s roped him into so many cursed videogames on accident that he approaches pretty much anything with a confident manner. (Though he starts to get just a little salty if he's on the losing end. He is still quite prideful after all)

No matter... it's a reward on it's own if he can see you smiling or laughing. A bit unfortunate that it be at his expense however....

"I suppose taking a break from work was well worth it then. Hm? While it may be unlike me to admit defeat so easily, I wouldn’t say it was a waste of time. It’s refreshing to be in your presence, MC. Message me again if you find any other interesting games."

Mammon:

Mammon is STUPIDLY. RIDICULOUSLY. INSANELY lucky at games. Specifically gambling sure, but I like to think that his gambling luck follows him a little bit sometimes.

It’s only when he starts gloating and showing off about it does his luck immediately run out... poor mammon..

The very first time you bring up wanting to play a game with him though he's all nonchalant on the surface, but the fact that you came to him over everyone else makes him secretly happy

casually brings it up in conversation with others that you were his first or somethin like that and people start looking at him weird

He’s like: "Ah, whatever, sure. We can do something if you want I guess... since youre lookin’ all pathetic without my guidance or whatever." *looks at you hopefully* 👀👀👀 "So what're we playin'? I can teach ya if you need help with this one."

To be honest if you do actually need his help with some sort of gambling then he really will go all out. But casual games between the two of you are fun as well

I like to think that Levi will ask him to do his gacha pulls for him. Mammon still has no clue how in the world him pressing a button helps, but if Levi seems happy enough its whatever. So if you're also simply coming to him for something like that he’s confused, but he won’t turn you away. (will lean over your shoulder and squint at the phone though)

Not to reduce him to his whole gambling schtick but i feel like he'd be well versed in pretty much any sort of entertainment type game. But he plays the odd game here and there with the other brothers.

Test your luck against him in a card game or backgammon or anything like that if you want. At the very least it'll make him happy, and its something he can actually really focus on.

He still gets really competitive lowkey though. You gotta catch him on the right day with a pout and a pleading look in your eye if you want him to give up and just let you win.

Mammon is a softie, you could absolutely win him over.

Unless its Mario Kart or something like that, he gets bullied by the brothers and even NPCs quite viciously. He probably gets bullied in most games with his brothers honestly. Perhaps you should go easier on him if you end up being better than him.

“You know, you ain’t too bad at this, MC. Maybe we can find another game to play when you’re free, okay? Just call me and I’ll be right over. I’m winnin next time though!”

Leviathan:

Levi is THE number one gamer.

Like who are we kidding he eats, sleeps, breathes, gaming. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had those horrendous gaming related t-shirts he wears alone... or if he has a ‘live laugh pog’ carpet or something terrible like that in his room

He has the gaming chair and the light up rainbow keyboard setup i really dont know what else you want from me. what else could I say

Levi is either the type to stand to the side and say 'lol' in chat when The Skeletons start chasing you in Minecraft, or he gets clingy and always wants to see if you need help or protection.

Mans is always decked in the most high level expensive gear no matter what the game is anyways. He worked hard for it and will show it off. There’d be no point in not wearing it anyways. but God we get it... you're a pro gamer. Now hurry up and help fight the boss 🙄

Luckily for you he's always so excited to have a gaming partner to play around with and show off to that he just gets really focused on both you and the game. There is no room for self-deprecation in his mind since you’re the focus! For a little while at least </3 (no but seriously, he self-deprecates so much I personally think gaming with MC would leave less room for negativity since he has other things to worry about. Who else will slay all these mobs yknow-)

He gets a little silly because of this I think, if he’s not playing with online friends that is. He devotes so much of his time protecting you if you’re newer at a game or really seem to be struggling.

If you need armor or good gear he’ll give it to you. You need more items? He’s on it. You need to grind a boss for something special? Alright. lets go!

I can’t exactly say that he’s the best teacher, but seeing him look so excited is nice right?

Also the type to help you with getting achievements. No matter what game it is he’ll show you the steps to get it, or just do it himself if you ask. Bless his heart...

”I own both versions of [insert Pokémon Game here]. If you’re collecting them all I can help you with trading and filling the dex.”

”Is the sun bothering you, MC?” “I don’t think you can kill that in game, Levi.”

”If we can clear these dungeons by today we can get some really good prizes, MC! Don’t worry, I can definitely help you through. I made a guide for this one awhile back so if we follow this method...”

Levi and MC just have a lot of fun no matter what it is honestly. He’s quite competitive as well but more so in relation to his brothers. So perhaps there’s some favoritism thrown MCs way

Satan:

No he will not number one victory royale with you.

He is not your little pogchamp. Get a grip!!!

Though he does strike me as the type to unironically love cat headphones hmmmm

He’d only wear them alone or around MC at first, but eventually he’d wear them when he games with the other brothers

Will he get you a matching set just to test the waters and gauge his reaction accordingly based on if you like it? Yes. He’s prepared to laugh it off as a little joke gift if you’re not receptive. If you like it though he’s very pleased. Starts going on about all the extra handy uses it comes with and how he was considerate with choosing the color yada yada

But he does get a little competitive if you bring something up that catches his interest. As long as he's curious enough and it sounds kind of fun he's gonna do it.

Honestly he doesn't strike me as the type to play games all that much, IF at all. (He’d be more of a mobile player at that)

There’s a good chance he knows about a lot of games either through hearing Levi mention them in passing, or just through stumbling upon them in his own free time (he does like to research after all)

Satan would definitely text you or ask in person if he had a query about an interesting human world game he read about

(Okay so it turns out whatever he read was an extremely dated ritual but MC quickly looks past that to teach him an actual game instead. No, no, Satan please put the book away. It is not a game.)

MC spends a fair amount of time teaching him old children’s hand games to his slight amusement. Whether he just wants to touch their hands or actually learn is unknown, but he absolutely eats it up every time they play Patty Cake

As for things I could actually see him playing in his free time.. He was really obsessed with Neko Atsume and Meow Meow Star Acres for awhile.

MC would occasionally ask “How’s that black cat doing today?” and Satan will reply “Ah, Hermeowne is doing lovely today. Would you like to see her?” And he’s already opening the app to show you

Unironically though, I think it would be really funny if he somehow got into GTA. It’s “for the culture” he claims when he mentions how he finds the game. Thinks it’s a bit ridiculous and extremely vulgar as he loads it up, which is sort amusing at first. He’s stealing cars and running over the NPCS almost immediately.

Momentarily he panics because ‘This isn’t linked to any real world pedestrians right? It’s all actual code?’ Yes, Satan it’s actual code. No. Satan, they aren’t real people. Carry on.

Oh great, now you lost him for a week straight.

Asmodeus:

girlsgogames dot com end of story

Devilish Hairstyler.... Pet Makeovers.... Barbie Dreamhouse Adventures.... he’s all about that genre of gaming

He's mostly invested in those really elaborate 'you start out with nothing and need to redecorate and/or dress everyone up' type of games

Asmo wouldn’t be embarrassed about it by any means, but I think a small part of him would be a bit flustered if it was truly found out how much time he really logs into these sort of things

I think he'd also be super invested in The Sims franchise. Asmo has this really elaborate little fake world where he creates people and starts tedious drama in game for fun. Has probably recreated all of his brothers to further the chaos

Was absolutely appalled with the way he looked in the game the first time.

No he just couldn't have that. Not at all. He spent hours getting tons and tons of mods to beautify himself (with Levi’s help and guidance of course).

It almost quite literally looks as if he stepped into the game world, which had really worried MC for a moment. They’ve been in enough wacky game world related scenarios as is, they just had to be sure

Asmo usually has to be in the mood to game since it’s usually the last thing on his mind, but you're free to watch him play of course! He can give you a nice tour of all the houses he’s worked on and fill you in on all the fake drama

It’s a very long and overly complicated story though so just know what you’re getting yourself into!

Honestly though, If he did have to actually play something, he’s more of the ‘I’m bad at gaming but I’m having fun so it’s all good’ type

He came 6th in Mario Kart? Ah, he’s a little annoyed that he couldn’t show off like the others but that’s fine, he did his best! The commentary and seeing you smile or laugh was much better anyways

“So there’s this adorable little penguin that owns this restaurant and- Oh! I don’t know if we can do two players though... ahh, okay, just one moment I can find something for us to do together. Unless you know a better way to pass the time, hm? 😏 “

Probably used to lightly harass people on Neopets and Club Penguin into buying him all the top tier fancy items btw. Not because he couldn’t afford it. Just because <3

Beelzebub:

"Oh, MC, did you need help clearing a level or something? I dunno how much I can help out but let me see what I can do."

He'll probably mention once or twice that he's not the best at gaming and things like that, but he'll definitely do his best.

Is really confused on why you wouldn’t just want to go ask Levi or someone else though because of this, but he’s not the type to think about it for too long

You came to him so the two of you could hang out together, so he’s gonna do just that. It’s very simple

When he says he’s not the best he..... really isn't though. at least in the way he approaches gaming

Beel would load up a new file of Animal Crossing for the 1st time and ask MC “Okay. who do I kill?” *Tom Nook appears on screen* “Oh, do I fight him?” No Beel, please don’t fight the old Tanuki, he’s just trying to make a living via questionable means.

MC ponders what fighting Tom Nook would actually be like though. Just for a split second.

We already know Beel’s the type to just brute force it. I mean, he saved over poor Levi’s save files and used the wrong weapons in the anime, God save him <3

I think he’s the rare oddity where he can still make it through a game despite all this.

“Beel, How did you beat this boss? I’ve been trying for so long! No matter how many healing items i use I can never get past a certain point.”

Him: “Healing item?”

“Y-You. You did heal throughout it right? Beel?”

The way he games gives most people heart attacks tbh

Worried about whether or not he’d be enthralled by the Cooking Mama games because yeah sure it’s food related, but another part of me feels like Mama would remind him of Barbatos with her unwavering wide grin.

He can hear Barbatos’ scolding in the background the moment he messes up slicing these onions... the pressure might get to him oh no

Would he become enticed by the food on screen!?!?! Please dont eat MCs nintendo DS Beel

Belphegor:

Gaming? he just wants to take a nap with you, maybe rest his eyes for a bit, but ah well what is it that you expect from him.

He’s more of a watcher + cheerer rather than a player

Think of the little karaoke minigame in Yakuza games where you can clap and make noise on the sidelines. That's him, he’s cheering you on while you play instead

because otherwise, Belphie is absolutely terrible at gaming im so sorry.

He tries to offer advice at first, but unlike Beel, he pretty much never understands what the hell he’s actually looking at until MC gives a basic synopsis of what they have to do in-game

But like I said, I feel like no matter what game it is you’re playing he’d be invested enough

Ah is MC going on a treacherous quest and battling their way up the ranks? The story is very engaging to him if you’re equally invested

Is MC starting their new life as a farmer with a big abandoned plot of land? You should get all those rocks out of the way first then... Oh, no they’re getting the crops planted first? Smart thinking actually.

He backseat games a little bit ngl. “Shouldn’t you go over to The Health Center was it? Your rival is waiting for you, right?” He leans on your shoulder with a yawn. “Wait, doesn’t that mean there’ll be a big fight soon!? Mmmm, maybe you should train some more, MC... Go over there!”

Otherwise if he has the chance to actually play at the same time with you it takes some time for him to remember all the controls and the map. You’re more than likely going to have to carry him in whatever game youre playing. Even if it’s a peaceful one. Sorry. 🙏

Belphie keeps walking off the cliffs on accident.

He used his healing item at full health on accident.

He’s lost. It was only a few seconds but you lost Belphie in game.

Please help him understand the controls MC, I can’t watch this go on any longer.

Little fun fact: he always ends up liking the OSTs for the games you play. So sure, he can pretty much fall asleep on command, but so many of those OSTs are very pretty or relaxing. So he puts them in his playlist when he wants to have a particularly good nights rest (and maybe think of you)

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erodasfishtacos · 4 years ago

Text

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow.

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek.

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.”

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.”

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all.

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound.

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

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spenciegoob · 4 years ago

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Dethroned (Requested)

A/N: I know the request said the relationship between Reader and Luke is platonic, but I kinda dropped subtle hints that Luke is slightly pining for Reader... oop.

Request: smutty post-prison Reid being jealous. Like him just being absolutely in love with reader, like he had been since she joined the BAU but was too nervous to say anything so settled for being mega close best friends. Then when he returns from prison he finds out that her and Luke have become close friends whilst he’s been gone (its simply platonic though) and he ends up snapping and just absolutely annihilating the reader over her desk in the office after everyone else has left

Pairing: Post Prison!Spencer x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: jealous!spencer, exhibition, hair pulling, degradation/praise, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.9K

______

It was a gradual realization on his part. Spencer was so overwhelmed with coming home, his mom and Cat to even really take notice in the shift of your attention from him to Luke Alvez.

It wasn’t like you completely ignored him since his return. You were Spencer’s best friend, the title he settled on all those years ago when you all but skipped into the BAU and into his life.

And it wasn’t like you didn’t have other male friends. Before his leave, Derek and you had gotten along pretty well right off the bat, and Spencer never thought about it twice. If anything, he was ecstatic that two people that were so important in his life were also important to each other.

But when Spencer was stuck behind physical bars that represented every feeling for you he’s tried to keep at bay, you found comfort in Luke. He couldn’t blame you for that either, especially when the first time you visited him all he could see was hurt in your eyes, and all he could do was stare back with the same expression.

The first time he noticed the shift was after everything had settled, and the groove of life, for the team at least, was back in motion. You all had decided to go out and grab a drink, and the second you agreed, Spencer was also on board. He would follow you just about anywhere if it meant the smile on your face when he said yes stayed forever.

Luke had whispered something in your ear, the music in the bar too loud for Spencer to catch what it was. It had to be hilarious by the way you threw your head back in laughter, Luke’s eyes immediately dropping to the newly exposed skin, before nudging his shoulder with yours.

Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off the conversation in front of him. He should have when the grip on his glass was so hard it could’ve shattered.

“You know, kid, if you talked to her, she’d know how you feel,” Rossi had told him that night.

“That’s exactly why I can’t,” Spencer thought in his head, but merely gave Rossi a whatever, and walked away to the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror that night, hoping the disgust he felt for how angry he got whenever he saw you with Luke was enough to make it disappear.

It never did.

Like right now, Spencer sat at his desk, a rubber band ball being suffocated in his hand as he watched you perch yourself on top of Luke’s desk. It was an innocent act on you part, but the way Luke leaned back in his chair, opening himself up to you, and allowed his eyes to flicker to your bare legs that were swinging back and forth softly was definitely not innocent... not in Spencer’s book anyway.

It came as no surprise to Spencer that Luke would at the very least find you attractive. You were, in every aspect. Spencer could stare at your for hours, and sometimes, he did.

He would look at the way your skirt hugged your curves in the best possible way, or he would stare at your neck when you leaned back to stretch out. He would watch the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs, a nervous habit you’ve always had. Spencer would think about how soft they probably were, like silk rubbing against each other.

But now Luke was also looking at you like that while you talked about what you were going to do this weekend.

“If you’re not busy, you should totally come,” you told him, obviously excited with the idea of Luke tagging along to wherever you planned on going.

“Yeah, I think I can make that work,” he agreed, and when he did, you jumped up off his desk, enthusiasm practically dripping from you.

“Yes! It’ll be so much fun, I promise!” And then you did the one thing Spencer silently begged you would never. You kissed Luke on the cheek before scurrying back to your desk.

Of course you would kiss him on the cheek. To you, that was a seemingly innocent and friendly action, one that Spencer had been on the receiving end of for the past 10 years.

But now, Luke stole his crown and was flaunting it in front of Spencer’s face like an older brother who just got an XBOX for Christmas. Okay, maybe Spencer was a tad on the dramatic side, but how could he not be when Luke all but physically railed you over his desk when his eyes unashamedly did?

There were many things Spencer could take and get back up like nothing had happened. He’s been shot, punched, kicked, framed for murder and hell, he even stabbed himself, but none of that compared to the deep rooted anger that blossomed in his chest like a flame to gasoline when the thought of Luke touching you swarmed his brain.

Enough was enough.

“Alright, you’ve all worked enough today. Please, go home and get some rest,” Emily’s voice traveled from outside her office door to the agents that still inhabited the bullpen like a second home. Most, including Emily in its rarity, gathered their stuff to finally call it a night.

“So, you’ll text me the information?” Luke asked you as he was putting his jacket on. You had yet to move from your slouched position over whatever paperwork you insisted on finishing before leaving.

“Yeah, definitely!” You beamed up at him before returning back to your case file immediately. Luke walked away with a little more pep in his step than usual per Spencer’s analysis.

“Hey, Spence. Do you think you can hang back a second and look over this for me?” You asked him, catching the attention of the stumbling genius as he tried to get back to his apartment as fast as possible and deal with his... issues with you and SSA Luke Alvez.

He was going to say no, really he tried, but when he looked up to your puppy dog eyes and slight pout, how could he? Spencer knew you were giving him that face on purpose, he had told you in the past that if you were to ever give him your best puppy dog eyes, he could never refuse.

Now it was coming back to bite him in the...

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Spencer made his way over to your desk that was piled high in paperwork more than anyone else’s.

“I took a bunch of work home, and I accidentally dropped all my files and they scattered every where. So now, all the paperwork is mixed up and Emily needs these by tonight. Basically I’m screwed, but I just wanted to make sure the arsonist in Kentu-”

“I’ll help you,” Spencer interrupted your rambling once he got a grip on himself after adjusting to being so close to you. The smell of your perfume wafted into Spencer’s nose and got him drunk faster than any alcohol could ever.

“Oh no, Spence. Don’t worry I can handle this,” you immediately shut him down, but Spencer was not easy to convince, and once his mind is set to something, there’s no changing it.

“I want to, trust me.” Spencer had started to roll his desk chair over to you. You sat there momentarily stunned for two reasons:

1. He had dropped everything to help you.

2. He wasn’t affected by the close proximity of you two the same way you were, or at least knew how to hide it really well.

The buzzing of your phone on your desk pulled you from your trance as Spencer settled next to you and went to pull a new file from your overgrowing pile.

You picked it up to find a text from Luke, opening your phone to a picture of Roxy enjoying the toy you got her last week.

Spencer turned to you to find you smiling and letting out a breathy laugh at your phone.

“What?” He asked, more sarcasm dripping from his tone than expected. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything.

“Just Luke and Roxy. I love that dog so much,” you said while putting your phone on silent and setting it face down. You didn’t look up at Spencer, but if you did you’d find him beet red with anger, and holding the armrests of his chair a little tighter than necessary.

“Hm,” was all he mumbled in response. This, you didn’t ignore.

“Is something wrong? You really don't have to do this with me,” you fumbled over your words, worried that your clumsiness and disorganization was what was annoying Spencer.

“No no, it’s not this. I like paperwork, actually.” You finally looked over at Spencer to find him already staring at you. His gaze bore into you like a blade to the gut, his intensity something you had never been on the receiving end of. It would be a lie if you were to say it wasn’t making you nervous.

“Then what is it.” Your words were not meant to come out as a whisper, but with Spencer’s intimidation and the way it made your stomach flip, you were overwhelmed already.

“Nothing, just, uh,” his confident persona was gone just as quickly as it came. “You and Luke, huh?”

Now it makes sense. You couldn’t help the small smile that etched across your features at his unknowing admission. Spencer Reid was jealous, actually jealous.

“Yeah, he’s a great friend.” Your emphasis on the word friend did not go unnoticed by Spencer, but he couldn’t stop himself from letting the words crawling up his throat out.

“I’m sure he thinks the same about you. The profile in this case fi-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Two can play at this game, and if it was going to end the way the two of you were unknowingly both hoping, you would have to succumb to the rules.

“Hm? Oh! So you’re oblivious to the way he looks at you?” Spencer spat back, jealous intimidation turning to full anger now.

“Jesus, Spencer. Of course I’m not oblivious, but that doesn’t mean I look at him like that.” At this point, you stood up from your chair, Spencer’s approach throwing you off and getting you more worked up than you cared to admit.

“Besides, I have eyes for someone else,” you mumbled quietly under your breath, but Spencer caught it. “I’m calling the night. I suggest you do the same.”

You picked up as many files you could, not wanting to reach over Spencer before turning around to make you descent home.

Before you could get far, though, Spencer grabbed your elbow and spun you back to crash into his hard chest. You gasped, not making eye contact and instead opting for staring at his lips.

“Who?” Spencer asked, also not looking up from your lips. Both of your minds swarmed with the desperation to feel each other’s against your own.

“You.” And that was all he needed to finally succumb to his mind’s wishes. Your lips moved together like a violin bow to a string, creating a perfectly conducted symphony of files falling from your arms and deep inhales of each other.

Spencer reached out behind you, never taking his lips off yours and pushed anything that was on your desk with a deafening crash. Pens, papers and tape now littered the bullpen floor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when all you could feel were Spencer’s hands gripping your waist as he hoisted you up to sit you on your now clear desk.

His lips finally detached from yours, the need for oxygen getting in the way of a kiss you wish could last for eternity. They didn’t go very far, Spencer attacking your neck with little nips, surely to leave incriminating bruises. Your hips started to involuntarily roll forward, searching for friction from his hardening member still constrained by his work slacks.

“Spencer, please,” you begged, needing to feel him, all of him at this moment. His lips abandoned your neck to slowly pull back and scan your body like a predator indulging in his final prey one last time before he answered.

“Please what, Princess,” Spencer whispered, his hands moving down to grip your thighs that were attempting to squeeze together at your new pet name.

“Please, fuck me,” you whimpered back. His deep chuckle resonated through you as he leaned closer until he was directly next to your ear, his hot breath fanning down your neck causing you to arch your back slightly.

“Right here on your desk like a little whore,” he whispered against you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. Spencer shook his head slightly as he pulled back to grab your chin lightly with two fingers, forcing your head back.

He leaned in as close as possible to whisper against your lips one last time. “Only for you.”

Time stopped as hands sped up in a frenzy to rip each other’s clothes off, lips molding together like a lock and key never wanting to separate, and hips involuntarily grinding against each other in search for some friction in an overwhelming search for release.

Only when Spencer gave up on your shirt buttons and ripped the fabric apart, adding drums in the form of buttons hitting the desk and floor to the song you two collectively decided to dance to tonight, did he allow his lips to leave yours. Slowly, he nipped his way back down your neck, pushing you back softly until your body fully rolled down on the cool wood underneath you.

Spencer’s eyes found yours again as his hands inched behind you, silently asking for permission to break down yet another barrier between your two bodies. After a pleading whimper from you, he unclasped your bra and slowly pulled it down your arms.

Spencer maintained eye contact as he wrapped his mouth around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the peak before sinking his teeth in teasingly. Your back arched into him, a strangled whimper leaving your body as the heat between your thighs increased significantly.

“Spencer please hurry. I need you,” you whimpered softly, pulling his hair back from the top of his head in hopes of getting him in an area far more dire in need of attention.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Spencer mumbles in between kisses inching back up your body. His hands make their way under your skirt as he continues. “I want to take my time with you, but given our circumstances,” he paused to take a look at the deserted bullpen. “I’ll give you what you want, and fuck you like a whore.”

There was no other way to explain the way Spencer ripped your panties off so hard the lace snapped under his force than animalistic. He wasted no time stuffing them into his back pocket, and fully separating from you to stand straight and unbuckle his belt. Spencer’s eyes stared down at you, taking in every part of your body to file away in his brain in case he ever needs it. His once honey brown orbs were now absorbed with black, his pupils full and his eyes displaying a kind of fire only lust can fuel.

Once his belt was fully off, he smirked and folded it in his hands. Staring at the new object of his desire, he tantalizingly shook it back and forth slowly, watching the way it bounced with his movements.

“Should I gag you with this so you don't alert the whole goddamn building of how desperate you are?” Spencer looked back at you to find your cheeks a deep shade of red, partially at his degrading tone, but mostly at the idea of being gagged.

“No, sir. I wanna feel you.” The title slipped past your lips with no control or hesitation. Your cheeks burned further as Spencer’s movements stopped, his eyes widening slightly.

“Fuck it,” he whispered before throwing the belt on the floor and unzipping his pants with more speed than you've ever seen him move.

Spencer gave you zero time to even register his size before he was stepping in between your legs, lining himself up and slamming into you to the hilt with one hand, the other grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling back hard, all while never taking his eyes off you.

You couldn’t stop the loud gasp leaving your body as Spencer groaned at the feeling of you around him.

“God, you’re so fucking tight, Princess,” he grounded out, the soft growl in his tone causing you to whimper and clench around him.

When he felt you start to squirm underneath him after adjusting to his size, Spencer started to move, setting a brutal pace immediately. Your entire body felt like it became engulfed in flames, the feeling of Spencer repeatedly hitting the sweetest spot inside you over and over with a force unmatched was too much to handle.

Tears started to well in your eyes as the soft whimpers and pleads left your lips. Spencer pulled himself from his position tucked neatly into your neck to stare down at you, never relenting on his pace.

“What’s wrong, Princess,” he teased, a smirk growing across his features at your tears. “Is it too much for your little cunt? What happened to the girl that begged to be fucked like a whore?”

Spencer let go of his grip on your hair to wipe the tears blackened with mascara that were running down your face.

“So good, sir. Please don’t stop,” you mumbled, only half coherent. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Spencer filling you completely. His dark eyes flickered down from your face only for a second, but when he looked back up at you, excitement joined the lust in them, a swirl of emotions destined to destroy you in the end.

Spencer grabbed one of your hands that was gripping his shoulder, nails digging into the skin and leaving marks he wished would last forever. He placed in on your stomach, and confusion filled your mind for a moment until you felt the tip of his cock hit your hand.

“You feel that, Princess? You feel how deep I am? I’m gonna fill you up.” Your back arched, and you finally released a loud, wanton moan at his words. Spencer didn’t miss the way you clenched around him tighter at the thought. “God, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, make you - fuck- carry my child. Make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

You felt the knot in your stomach growing tighter with each word, and when Spencer lifted one of your legs into the crook of his elbow, hitting you impossibly deeper, you knew you weren't going to last much longer.

“Oh G-god, Spence. I- I’m gonna....”

“It’s okay, Princess. I’ve got you,” he groaned back, lifting two fingers to your lips before forcing them into your mouth. Instinctively, you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked on his digits. “Let go, Princess.”

All you needed was his permission before letting your orgasm rock through you, the muscles in your body seemingly losing and gaining all the tension in the world at once, your vision going white, and your mind blank except for one thought; Spencer.

Your loud moans were blocked by his fingers pushing deeper down your throat, catching them before any unwanted guests could hear.

Your moans started to turn to whimpers around his fingers as the overstimulation kicked in. Spencer could sense it by the way you still clung to him as tightly as possible.

“Fuck that’s it. You’re doing so well, Princess, taking all of me,” he growled out, his hips losing their rhythm, signaling his own impending orgasm. Spencer leaned down further, pushing your leg farther up in the process, and again, hitting you deeper than imaginable.

Two more sloppy thrusts in that position, and Spencer was coming deep in you with your name and different praises being groaned in your ear. He bottomed out once more, coming to a stop buried deep, both of you trying your hardest to catch your breath.

When he started to pull out, you whimpered immediately at the feeling.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m almost done,” Spencer whispered, caressing your cheek as he fully unsheathed himself. The abandoned weight of him on top of you, and the loss of his cock filling you up left you cold as he went to rummage through your drawers for tissues, but all you could do was stare up at the lights hanging from the ceiling, your body still slightly twitching.

When Spencer returned to you, he sat you up and kissed your forehead before reaching in between your legs to clean you up. The second the tissue hit your sensitive cunt, you winced.

Spencer looked back up at you but before he could say anything, you cut him off.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” you reassured him, smiling softly as you reached up to caress his cheek. Upon your approval, he went back to cleaning you up. “Actually, I’m more than okay. That was.. That was-”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling slightly and shaking his head. “I know, right?”

“Maybe we should thank Luke,” you teased him. Immediately, his smile faded and he looked up at you with an expression that can only read “Seriously?”

You let out a full laugh now, obviously still entertained with the idea that the Dr. Spencer Reid was jealous of Luke Alvez.

“I’m joking,” you said, your smile turning from one of hilarity to adoration as Spencer straightened back up to stand between your legs and wrap his arms around your waist. “And Spence, it’s always been you. Not Luke, not anyone else. You.” You emphasized your point by jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Good, because that would make this really awkward,” he said back. You tilted your head in confusion to which he laughed at before continuing. “Do you want to go grab dinner?”

Your cheeks blushed profusely as he asked you out as if you didn’t just let him take you over your own desk at work.

“I would love to say yes, but I still have to finis-” When you turned around to look at the pile of paperwork you had yet to complete, it was no longer on your desk, but scattered around it. During the rush of trying to feel each other completely, the two of you failed to notice the stack of files that started this whole thing had fallen all over the bullpen floor.

“Emily is going to kill me,” you said, turning back to Spencer who was still staring at the now empty spot on your desk.

“Actually, she has two reasons to kill us now.” You threw you head back in laughter, Spencer joining you at the thought of Emily finding out about the last 30 minutes. “But seriously, you go deal with the security footage, and I’ll deal with the paperwork.”

“Hmmmm...” You pretended to ponder the thought of not having to do all of that paperwork by yourself anymore. “Deal.”

“Deal,” Spencer repeated back, smiling softly before kissing you one more time.

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kiseki-no-scenarios · 3 years ago

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Ahh, I had SO MANY IDEAS so of course I had to put it down in writing!

GOM + Kasamatsu reactions to having an indirect kiss with their crush - Part 1 (Akashi, Midorima, Aomine)

Akashi

Sitting quietly on the tatami mat, Akashi’s gaze was focused on the shoji board that was set up in front of him. He had just taken a sip of his tea when you had burst into the room, face flushed and sweat beading along your hairline as you panted, leaning against the doorframe.

‘I’m so sorry I’m late!!!”

Not missing a single beat or showing any sort of surprise, Akashi calmly set the teacup back down, folding his arms as he smiled serenely at you. “It’s no problem, _____.”

“Sensei wanted to chat with me about one of the assignments, then we just started chatting about the show that was on TV last night…”

You were too busy smoothing down your flyaway hairs and the skirt of your uniform to notice that Akashi was watching you with an uncharacteristic warmth in his eyes. Not that he’d be explicitly admitting to it so easily anytime soon, but he truly looked forward to the games of shoji the two of you played together.

“I’m going to definitely impress you today, Akashi-kun!” You stated confidently, sitting down across the board. “I’m been practicing a whole lot!”

“We shall see.” Akashi responded diplomatically, nudging the board slightly so it was set exactly in the middle between the two of you.

The air grew thick with tension as the two of you began, Akashi murmuring words of praise as he saw that you were indeed putting his teaching into practice, managing to stay ahead of him for most of the match. However, he had no intent to let go of this pastime with you anytime soon, so he enjoyed the look of frustration on your face as he cleanly delivered a strategic response to your tactics.

“Not again…!” You sighed, tapping your fingers against your side as you studied the board intently.

His next words died in his throat as he watched you absentmindedly pick up the teacup-his teacup, that his lips had touched-and bring it up to your lips. You were clearly focused on the match and had accidentally grabbed the wrong cup.

“Oh, this is really delicious!”

Akashi felt his mouth grow dry, his mind clearly conjuring other ideas of what exactly you were referring to as being delicious…

Midorima

“Mido-kun!! Is that what I think it is???”

Grabbing the cup out of the green-haired shooter’s hands, you stared at it in wonder. “How long did you have to line up for this?”

“It was my lucky item, so of course I had Takao acquire it.”

“Don’t even get me started, _____-chan.” The point guard groaned, his head resting atop his folded arms. “I had to wake up so early to get to the store, and there were already people there!”

The item in question was a new offering at one of the most popular bubble tea shops in the area, and unfortunately it was a daily limited-item selection. There was no way, with your constant need for the most sleep you could manage in a day and the fact that your parents had been less than impressed with your begging to take off a day of school to try what you had referred to as the “elixir of the gods” for you to even get a taste of it.

You stared longingly at the drink, Midorima easily understanding the look of desperation in your eyes. He had tried it, but didn’t find it much to write home about-but, nonetheless, he had to have it on his person.

Unconsciously, your tongue had darted out and swept across your lips, and Midorima felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of your wet lips, the lips that had been recently haunting his thoughts.

His fingers gripped the edges of his desk before he adjusted his glasses, as nonchalantly as possible as he cleared his throat.

“_____. If you’d like, I can certainly share-“

“Then try it if you want, _____-chan!” Takao raised his hand, pushing the drink right up against your mouth. “It’s too sweet for Shin-chan, so he’s probably not going to be able to finish it!”

“W-Wait, but I didn’t even ask if it’s okay-!”

A smattering of red bloomed across Midorima’s cheeks as he realized that your lips were touching exactly where his lips were earlier.

“T-That’s acceptable.” He managed to eek out as he tilted his gaze to the left, avoiding the knowing look Takao was sending his way.

“Thanks so much Mido-kun, you’re the best!!”

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to slap Takao or begrudgingly thank him for his antics.

Aomine

“Satsuki, hand me the juice.” Aomine muttered, one arm slung over his eyes as he yawned. It was lunchtime, the sun was nice outside…perfect time for a nap. He’d been too lazy to go buy his food himself, and despite the multitude of complaints from the pink-haired manager, she still acted as a courier for his drinks and snacks.

“Oh, actually it’s _____, Aomine-kun.”

Aomine’s eyes widened at the sound of your voice, his body immediately reacting as he jerked himself into a sitting position. The sun was directly shining into his eyes as he swore under his breath, feeling slight whiplash from how quickly he righted himself. “What the fuck?!”

You smiled sheepishly as you climbed the ladder to the top of the roof, gesturing to the bag held in you left hand. “Momoi-chan was called away for something, so I volunteered to drop stuff off for you.”

Aomine rubbed the back of his neck nervously, clearing his throat. “Ah, you didn’t have to do that…”

“No worries! I actually wanted to find this secret spot you were talking about!” You were about to sit down before you hesitated. “Well, if it’s okay for me to be here, or I can leave…”

“N-No, you can stay!” Aomine cringed as he listened to the way he stuttered-he was acting like some kindergartener kid with a crush on the cutest girl in the school.

“Oh, perfect!” You brightened up immediately, plopping down next to Aomine, completely ignoring the way his cheeks flushed slightly as you brushed up against him. “I feel so honored to be here! I can see why you like it, it’s quiet, and warm…perfect for a nap.”

“Yeah, I suppose…” Clearing his throat, Aomine busied himself with digging through the bag and fishing out the drinks. “Uh, thanks for bringing all of this.” Trying to hide his embarrassment, he opened one of the drinks, easily chugging down half of its contents.

“You’re welcome! Oh, but…” You pout, swiping the bottle out of his hands. “That was the one I wanted to try!”

Before he even had a chance to say anything, you had already placed the bottle to your lips, helping yourself to the drink. “Oh, this is delicious!”

Aomine’s mouth gaped open slightly as he watched how you licked your lips before handing the bottle back to him. “It was delicious, Aomine-kun~"

—

Masterpost

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#knb #knb scenarios #kuroko no basket #akashi seijuro #akashi seijuro x reader #midorima shintarou x reader #midorima shintarou #aomine daiki x reader #aomine daiki

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

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ascendance - 01

PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader

WARNINGS: violence, dark themes, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)

SUMMARY: she was at the wrong place at the wrong time and a misunderstanding dooms her to a life as an ascendance card under the watch of the executer.

A/N: i’m so excited to go back to my mob writing roots with this one. there’s a bit of a few twists and changes to the traditional mob writing i’ve done before and i am really excited to be sharing chapter one with you. hope you enjoy it xx

> NEXT CHAPTER

The ambience was dark, badly lit by the yellow flickering lights in the halls with echoes of the buzzing of the hot old light bulbs. There was no sound but that buzz and the heavy sound of his boots hitting the rotting wood floor boards. The scent in the air was putrid, a mix of what seemed like life meeting its end stage, cheap cider and weed. It was definitely different and he didn’t trust it.

At the end of the corridor there it was. 107. The 107th flat in purgatory with the door slightly opened. He pushed the door open, the smell getting more intense and his boots sticky with the liquor spilled on the floor.

- What did you do? - each word was punctuated with intense disbelief, as if this was all a nightmare.

- Bucky, help me!

PRESENT

The wind brushed and pulled her hair into different directions as she stepped off the train’s step. She rushed through the streets of New York, hair pin stuck in the middle of her teeth as she fought the winds to try and set her hair into an appropriate hair do while running down the street at the same time. The chattering people and the sun peaking through the clouds was hopeful as she grabbed her coffee from the same vendor off the side street as her eyes gazed upon the Metropolitan Opera House which had been gracing the New York landscape for longer than she had been on this earth and now she was part of it, she was a small speck in an almost 60 year long history.

Her smiled widened as her sneakers hit the pavement, eyes gazing over the fountain and the flags of the production coming down from the opera house’s arches. The same production she was part off. Sure, she was a chorus girl but the mere thought of singing on that stage, of watching that public in those red velvet seats under the chandelier just made it all more exciting. She walked inside the theatre through the stage door, meeting the manager at the door.

- Hi. - she leaned her hands against the desk where the manager was surrounded by attendance and cast sheets as well as a big laptop shining a blue light onto her face. The woman didn’t even look up, instead putting up a board with the names of all people in the production in front of her. - Do you need to see my ID?

- Just sign in front of your name.

Y/N giddily looked at the list of names, hers closer to the bottom but there, written in bold Arial font. She signed her name in front of her printed one with the barely working pen, before pinning it over the board and handing it over to the manager who pointed inside the opera theatre. She held onto her gym bag harshly, padding the sublime floors and looking around with such wonder one would believe she’d never been here. She’d been here before, she was here every month to watch a performance but now she was not guest, she was not just another person walking in with a ticket, she was part of it, she was part of the show. After years of doing community plays, workshops and failed auditions, she had gotten here and suddenly all those days spent in bed feeling miserable in bed after getting rejected yet again didn’t matter anymore she was here.

Her eyes glanced at every tiny little ornament in the opera house until she entered the theatre room. Her heart filled with joy and happy nostalgia as the red and golden tones of the room involved her. There wasn’t anyone in the theatre yet except for a few musicians from the instrumental pit and some cleaners so she was free to roam around. Her fingers traced the suede velvet of the red seats, finding a few missing binoculars on the grounds but not really caring.

- You! - she whipped her head towards the voice which came from a woman, probably in her mid 40s all dressed in black with a gold name tag slightly above her left breast.

- Hi. - Y/N smiled, extending her hand towards the woman. - I’m Y/N, I’m the new ...

- I don’t care, we need silk ribbons, now.

- Oh, I ... I’m new, I don’t know where I’d get silk ribbons, m’am.

- The costume room? Go, stop looking at me as if you were Bambi and go.

- Oh, okay.

She made her way hastily out of the theatre room wondering how she was going to find silk ribbons, where she was going to find them and why she had to find them. Maybe it was a hazing ritual for new people, after all, she had been into various hazings during her career, including downing a whole bottle of honey which she couldn’t even finish, only eating one fourth of it before becoming nauseous.

She stopped in the middle of the hall, wondering where the costume room could be. It couldn’t be on the top floor, that was usually where the bars and common rooms were so if the building followed regular construction protocols for opera houses, it was probably on the underground section of the house where the dressing rooms used to be. Y/N ventured into the lift, pressing the lowest number on the number chart of the panel until she reached the underground floor. Y/N looked around, people running in and out yet no one stopped whenever she tried to question where the costume room was. She had managed to find the costume shop but no luck finding the costume room until she was pretty much pressed against a dark door with those exact words by the passing crowd.

She twisted the knob of the costume room door, tumbling onto the dark room as a result. The room was filled to the brim with costumes on each side of the room, a plexiglass divider between the two sides which stopped every meter or so and also appeared to be divided onto female and male costumes with the ensemble costumes at the back. She padded across the concrete floors, looking through dresses and accessories for ribbons but no successful attempt. The ruffling from the other side of the room had her turning around, forehead furrowed as she walked towards the plexiglass divider.

- Hello? - she questioned, wondering if there was someone in this room who could help her find silk ribbons. Great, she had barely joined the company and was already screwing up. Great, Y/N. Way to go, Y/N.

She saw someone all dressed in black just like the women before, yet there seemed to be something which didn’t match up; black jeans, black shirt and black leathe jacket as well as a pair of also black boots, scruffed and probably entirely too old to still be holding up together. Her eyes caught his which despite the low almost non existent light of the costume room, were light, a sort of greyish blue like the calm sea before of storm. His gaze pulled hers in, like gravity and she couldn’t help but clutch the jacket next to her as a bad feeling along with something she’d never felt before settled in her stomach.

His hair was mostly pushed back yet the ones which framed his face fell like dominos. She moved along the side where she was to one of the plexiglass gaps and he did the same still maintaining eye contact with her, until the two reached the gap. She didn’t notice she was holding her breathe in until she breathed out.

- Hi. - her own hand gripped her wrist, shoe grinding against the floors. - Uhm, I’m new here and this lady sent me down to find some silk ribbons but I can’t find any. Do you ...

- I... uh ... I don’t know where they are. - he faltered for a few seconds before regaining his posture.

- Oh, I thought since you were here, you might be one of the stage managers.

- I’m not. - his tone was monotonous, almost as if he had the answer to her question before she even made it.

- Oh ... - she rubbed her neck. - Are you also looking for silk ribbons?

- I’m looking for the dressing rooms, actually.

- They’re down the hall. - she pointed at the door as if it was the “down the hall”. - Hum ... Are you new here too?

- Yeah. Thanks. - he walked towards the door, opening it and stepping out before catching her gaze once again.

Y/N remained in the middle of the room as if she were in a transe and maybe she was. It felt like she was falling yet she was firm on her feet and she did not like that feeling. She did not like that feeling of falling, it wasn’t feeling, it was hopeless falling and she wondered why looking at a man who looked like an 80′s glam rock reject made her feel like that, so lost. Maybe it was the respect he appeared to command by merely looking at her or maybe it was the nerves about being new and not being able to find some goddamn silk ribbons. Damn it.

- Call for 30 minutes before dress rehearsal. - the voice came from the intercom and immediately her mind dropped the idea of finding silk ribbons and moved to finding the ensemble dressing room and get dressed and ready. Damn it, this was going well.

She rushed down the hall, bag almost slipping off her shoulder until she saw the door with the ensemble plaque on it. The young woman peaked inside the room where pretty much everyone with a role on the ensemble were already sat down. She shyly walked in the middle row until she found her own little corner, her name written on a sticker on the mirror along with photos of how the makeup should be done as well as how to get the costume in correctly. The same goofy smile returned as she sat down and saw her name above her. It was fine, she was here, she was part of a company.

- Hey you’re new. - the girl next to her twirled her chair to face her. She already had her makeup on and hair pinned curled up and ready to put a wig cap on. - I’m Elliot but people call me Elle.

- Y/N, I’m the new chorus girl. First day.

- Aw, welcome. - she had a bright smile, inviting and almost as exciting as the whole experience of being there. - Do you want help pincurling your hair? I can get it done while you do your makeup.

- Yes, please. - she pulled out a big box from her bag which had all her makeup and pins.

Elle started pin curling her hair up while she put an inappropriate amount of blush on which was just appropriate to get on stage under the bright yellow lights. Turns out half the practice for opera is learning to do your makeup under bright yellow lights and then learning to sing. 10 minutes to rehearsal start, she was along with Elle going down and up to the main stage where most dancers were warming up. Elle left her to do so, leaving Y/N once again to just stand there, looking around like a little sheep in the middle of wolves.

- I’ve never seen you around. - her shoulders almost went up as he turned to see one of the principal sopranos, if not the principal soprano. She had seen all of her shows ever since she was a teenager and she had even wrote an essay for university on her for a module. Catherine Vargas, the best New York could offer, if not the best the world could offer. - I didn’t know they were still casting dancers.

- Oh, I’m a chorus girl, Mrs Vargas.

- A chorus girl? - she furrowed her brows at her, looking her up and down. - What type?

- The type who ... is in the back with the ensemble. - her voice lowered at least a few volumes down, back curved as if she were bowing.

- I know what chorus girls do. I asked what vocal type.

- Lyric soprano, m’am.

- A lyric soprano in the chorus. Interesting. Where did you train?

- Julliard, m’am.

- Julliard? - she looked her up and down again. - That is a great school. What is a Julliard graduate doing in the chorus line?

- Everyone starts somewhere. - she laughed nervously, scratching her arm as she did so.

- Not a lyric soprano from Julliard. Composers sure do love an ingenue, don’t they? Don’t worry, a few months with me and you’ll be supporting.

- That’s ... that’s really kind, Mrs. Vargas. Thank you.

- Don’t thank me. Could you get me some honey from my dressing room? I’m feeling a bit strained.

- It’s 5 minutes until rehearsal starts.

- It’s okay, chorus normally doesn’t do much during rehearsal. Can you get it?

- Yeah, I think so.

She straightened her crinkled skirt, looking behind her back before going down the stairs which led down to the dressing rooms. This was good, right? Getting into one of the main star’s good graces besides she was right, the chorus didn’t really get much attention during rehearsals, at least not as much as the main characters. It’s easier to get away with screwing up in the back than in the front, her teacher would tell her which would always earn a few laughs from her colleagues. Yet, Y/N hated to make any mistakes. She would stay up all night in front of a cheap piano she had bought from a charity shop, playing and singing the same 5 note progression until her flatmate yelled at her to shut up. For her, if it wasn’t perfect and if she didn’t get any criticism while performing it, she hadn’t done it right. It didn’t matter at the end of the day but what did matter was to climb up the ladder. She didn’t want to be a star, all she wanted was to be able to be on that stage forever with the spotlight shining on her and she knew there was only one way to climb up. Actually there were two, extreme luck and connections. Now, she didn’t have the best of luck so her major choice was to make connections and reach that status.

She made her way into the principal dressing room. It was probably one of the biggest she had ever seen, with expensive decor and various flowers covering it. She wondered how many flowers she received on opening nights if that was the number she had on regular days. Y/N made her way to the desk, opening drawers and more drawers to find honey until she found it on the lowest drawn. She went down on her knees to grab it, mindless and careless to everything that was happening until she felt a sharp pain on the side of her her.

Then everything went dark.

TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying @buckyswillows @blossomslibrary @juliesland @iloveshawnieboi @unmagically

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maraudersftw · 4 years ago

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Break My Heart

Since Retribution is currently with my amazing beta, I thought I’d write a little something for @petalstosarah’s Tuesday Training Prompt: “Go ahead, break my heart, you can break it a thousand times if you so desire. It’s been yours to break since the day we met.”

Read on AO3

“You know, I’m sick and tired of this, Potter!”

He looked up at the irate tone, hands still caught on the papers he shuffled. “Evening to you too, Evans,” he said. Lily breezed past, all flying red hair and flushed cheeks, and dropped her bag onto an empty chair. “Should I even ask?”

She turned around, hands on her hips. “Well, I’m gonna tell you either way.” James pressed his lips together to hold back the amusement, and leaned on the table with his arms. Once she knew he was paying attention, she nodded. “So, I was walking down from the tower, right? And at least four—count it, four—students stopped to ask me whether I’m shacking up with James Potter, and is it true that he has eight packs under those school robes?”

He didn’t even bother suppressing the laughter this time, heart pounding as he rounded the desk, crossed his arms. “And what did you tell them?”

“Obviously that they shouldn’t believe in rumours quite so easily,” she huffed, face pink still.

“And?”

“And that they were wrong. You actually have a huge belly that could rival Professor Slughorn’s under there.” She tried to keep her face straight, but he still spotted the barely held twitch of her lips. “Sorry, Potter, I’ve officially turned you unattractive.”

Excitement bubbled, and he pushed off from the table, sauntered closer to her. Lily’s eyes flashed, thrill evident, the green turning something dark.

Merlin, she drove him mad.

“Good,” James said, reaching out to twirl a strand of red hair between his fingers. Her breath caught somewhere in her clavicle when he pressed closer still. “I don’t much care about what they think. Just as long as you like the belly.”

She half-laughed, half-sighed; a sound he wanted to swallow. The urge to do so was overwhelming, and he was bowing forward, hand pressed into her hip. “James.” She stopped him, eyes on his mouth even as she shook her head. “The prefects will be arriving soon.”

A weight clamped around his chest; the disappointment as familiar as it was unwelcome. He pulled back dutifully, but a look at the longing on her face, mirroring his, had the words tumbling out. “What if I said that I didn’t care about that either?”

Lily started, gaze rising to meet his. “What?” she breathed.

“What if—” he paused, “what if we admitted that the rumours were true? What if I asked you out, for real? Now? No more sneaking around, or making excuses, or trying to...not be loud. I’m tired, Evans. Aren’t you?”

She blushed a little, as he knew she would, but then her lips parted with a blank expression that infuriated him. “I am,” she whispered, “of course, I am, but—”

When her voice halted there, James sighed, the weight on his chest heavier, and expelled a humourless laugh. “But. Hate that word. Go ahead, break my heart—you can break it a thousand times if you so desire.” He waved a hand, took a few steps back. “It’s been yours to break since the day we met.”

Lily frowned, teeth biting down on her lower lip. “Don’t be dramatic, that’s not what I—”

“‘Lo, Evans! Potter!” Cassidy Cooper, sixth-year Ravenclaw, entered the room, effectively putting an end to their conversation. Lily shot her a greeting, but her eyes remained trained on him, looking no less irritated even with an audience in sight. It only got worse when the rest of the prefects pooled in within the next few minutes, and soon, they had no choice but to start the meeting or risk regressing to their fifth-year public debacles.

“Okay, so the patrol schedule will be up on the board by next week, as usual,” James announced about fifteen minutes later. “And really not much else to discuss this week. Does anyone have anything to report?”

A wave of mumbled negations rung out across the room, and then the prefects were leaving.

“Prongs.” Remus stopped in the doorway. “You coming?”

“Actually, he’s not,” Lily replied, not unkindly. Her eyes were narrowed at James. “I have something to discuss with him.”

Remus looked between them curiously, but shrugged and left them alone.

“Okay, look, Evans,” James started when she walked to the door and closed it shut. He waited for her to turn around before continuing. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and it wasn’t an ultimatum, but I—I mean, you’ve always known what I’ve wanted, haven’t you? I love what we have, but I still—”

“Shut up, shut up,” she snapped, collar flushed, and he was so stunned by the vehemence of her tone that he could do barely more than blink before she crashed into him, lips instantly on his, angry and firm and devouring all thought.

James staggered only slightly at the attack, but had his arm around her waist the next second, mouth opening to the familiar taste of her, one hand buried in hair smoother than silk. “Merlin,” he groaned against her lips. “Is this you being mad? I knew I loved you being mad.”

“You, tosser!” Lily shoved him away, chest heaving, but he didn’t let her get far. “Break your heart?! What the fuck was that? You’re so stupid. I don’t wanna do that—”

“But?”

She smacked his shoulder, glowering. “No buts! I don’t wanna do that, so I’m not gonna. You just sprung it on me out of nowhere. You gotta give a girl some time to...to…”

“To?” he asked, eyes flitting between both of hers.

“To say yes.”

James felt his heart swell, a grin so wide blooming on his face that he couldn’t even reign in its stupidity. “Say yes to what, Evans?”

She cocked a brow, rolled her eyes, but gave him what he wanted. “I’ll go out with you, Potter.”

“Well.” He leaned down, whispered the words against her neck, “Only fair that we get a secret-snog farewell.”

“Mm, only fair.”

#claudiawrites #claudia writes #break my heart #hodgepodge #jily #jily fic #jily flash fic #james potter #lily evans #james x lily #jily fluff #petals of the prettiest flower #training prompt tuesday

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homoose · 4 years ago

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Atlas

Summary: Three times that Spencer needed support, and one time he gave it. Lightly insp by the song Atlas by The Dip.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: heavy on the fluff, a lil bit of angst

Warnings/Includes: brief mentions of general anxiety/trauma/mild depression

Word count: 4.4k

———

Spencer pressed his fingers so far into the sockets of his eyes that Y/N thought he might actually jam one of his eyeballs into his brain. He was hunched over his desk, reading through the file of the case he was consulting on. Even on his mandatory 30-day leave, Spencer couldn’t fully tear himself away from hunting monsters.

Y/N moved from where she had been leaning against the doorframe, walking further into Spencer’s office. “Another headache?” She sighed, wrapping her arms around Spencer’s shoulders and pressing her warm cheek to his temple.

Spencer hummed. “Just need another cup of coffee.”

“Honey, you’ve been awake for almost three days,” Y/N sighed. “What you need is a gallon of water and 12 hours sleep.”

He leaned back further into the circle of Y/N’s arms and covered her hands with his own. “I can’t—the team needs this consult before they leave on Monday.”

“And just how long have you been reading this page?” Y/N questioned. When Spencer didn’t respond, she continued, “Mmhm, that’s what I thought. When it takes Dr. Reid two minutes to finish a page, something’s up.” She patted his chest. “Even the biggest brain needs a break.”

“Actually, there’s very little evidence that brain size has any correlation with measured levels of intell—” Spencer started.

“So you’ve mentioned,” Y/N chuckled. “My point still stands. I’m gonna make you a cup of tea and a snack, and then we’re gonna take a nap.” She kissed the top of his head before releasing her hold on him and moving to the kitchen.

Y/N filled the kettle and placed it on the stove before scrolling to find the playlist she had curated for days like this. The melancholic sounds of the Moonlight Sonata came through the bluetooth speaker as she pulled a wooden cutting board from the cupboard. Y/N dug through the bag from her earlier grocery run. She began placing the crackers, dried fruit, nuts, and cheeses on the board, taking time to arrange each piece just so. When she was satisfied with her work, Y/N turned to reach up on her tiptoes into the cupboard for her secret weapon. With a small smile, she placed it in the very center of the board. The kettle had barely begun its whistle when Y/N snatched it from the stove, cringing with a glance toward the door of Spencer’s office. She pulled his best-loved mug from the dish rack and dropped a fresh tea bag into it, covering it with the steaming water.

As the tea steeped, Y/N moved to the living room, crossing her arms as she contemplated the space. Although it was much darker than Y/N’s own living space, it was still far too bright to be comfortable for Spencer’s light sensitivity. Y/N made a mental note to find a suitable set of blackout curtains before retrieving a blanket from inside the trunk-style coffee table. She carried one of the kitchen chairs over to the window, quietly setting it underneath the curtain rod. Stepping up on the seat of the chair, she tossed the blanket up, trying to layer it up over the curtain. It took a few tries, but Y/N got it up and over the rod, adjusting it to block as much of the light as possible. She hopped off the chair, landing on the floor with a quiet thud.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” Spencer stood outside his office, hands in his pockets and honey colored eyes settled on Y/N’s face as she turned to him.

“I know.” Y/N padded across the hardwood. She grabbed Spencer’s hand and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. She shrugged, pulling him into the kitchen. “I don’t mind. I like taking care of you.” When they reached the table, she popped an almond into her mouth with a grin.

Spencer’s eyes moved over the cutting board, lips turning up in a small smile—the first one Y/N had seen in days—when they landed on the Jell-O cup. He picked it up and peeled back the lid. Y/N held up her mug of tea. Spencer let out a laugh and tapped it with his Jell-O. “Cheers.”

When the board held only crumbs and the mugs were empty, Y/N stood from the table and pulled Spencer to his feet. “Come on, nap time.”

“Y/N, I appreciate the thought, but I really have to finish—”

“Nope, sorry, that’s not part of the deal.” She gently pushed him toward the couch. At Spencer’s resistance, Y/N huffed out a breath. “Spence, you need a break. I’m not even asking you to go to bed. Just lay on the couch.” She lifted a hand to cradle Spencer’s face. “Unlike the brain size thing, there is actual research that says your brain doesn't function properly when you’re tired. And you, my love, are t-i-r-e-d.”

Spencer allowed himself to be lowered onto the brown leather couch, rubbing at his eyes. “Just twenty minutes.”

“Mhmm.” Y/N reclined next to him on the couch, grabbing the throw blanket draped over the back. “I’ll set the alarm.” She held out her arms. “C’mere.”

Despite himself, Spencer didn’t hesitate, winding his arms around Y/N’s middle and laying his head on her shoulder. She tucked the blanket around the both of them and wound their legs together.

“The alarm’s set?” Spencer mumbled, already falling under the spell of sleep.

Y/N pushed her fingers through his hair and scratched lightly at his scalp, smiling when he hummed happily and burrowed his face into her chest. “Setting it now,” she assured. Maybe she set it a little longer than 20 minutes, but Spencer didn’t need to know that.

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N rolled over toward the nightstand and reached out, clumsily running her hand across the smooth table to grab the ringing phone. When her fingers wrapped around the device, she pulled it towards her only to have it jerk abruptly out of her hand when the charging cord reached its limit. “Shit,” Y/N muttered as it clattered to the floor. She emerged from under the duvet, leaning off the side of the bed and dragging her hand blindly across the floor. Finally, clutching the phone in one hand and pushing herself back into bed with the other, Y/N swiped to answer the call. “H‘lo?”

“Hey.”

At the sound of Spencer’s voice, Y/N was suddenly wide-awake. “Spence? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I just—um. I know it’s late, sorry. Are you—? I just—God, you have to work in the morning, I’m sorry. I can—it can wait.”

Y/N paused a moment to make sure he was finished before asking, “Do you need me to come to you, or are you coming here?”

Spencer let out a sigh of relief. “I can—I’ll come to you.”

After thirty minutes of groggy pacing, Y/N opened the door to Spencer, hair frizzy and clothes rumpled from a long flight. She stepped back, allowing him into the apartment and then closing the door behind him. Spencer dropped his go-bag on the floor and ran a hand over his face as Y/N turned the deadbolt and secured the chain. She had barely turned around before he was latching onto her, completely enervated. He burrowed his face into the crook of her neck, and Y/N wrapped her arms tightly around him.

Y/N shifted her weight slowly back and forth, moving the two of them in a gentle swaying motion. She rubbed a hand up and down Spencer’s back, soothing and rhythmic. Spencer let out a shaky breath, and Y/N felt the collar of her shirt becoming damp. She brought a hand up to Spencer’s head, stroking his hair and repeating a familiar mantra: “You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe. I’m right here.”

Y/N lost track of how long they stood there, swaying and soothing and shattering. Maybe minutes or maybe hours later, Spencer pulled back, head lowered and swiping his arm underneath his nose. Y/N reached out to grasp his face in both her hands, lifting it and sweeping her thumbs under his eyes. When Spencer finally looked at her, Y/N saw the golden irises were shining and ringed with red. “I love you.”

“I love you. So much.” Spencer circled Y/N’s wrists in his hands. “So much.”

She pressed one, two, three chaste kisses to his chapped lips. She dropped one kiss onto the tip of his nose, drawing out a hesitant smile. “Wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head. “No.” Y/N pursed their lips, and Spencer sighed. “I—I will talk to someone, I promise. But I just—I don’t want it in here. In our space.” Y/N wound her fingers through Spencer’s, pulled his arms down, and tugged him closer. “Honestly, I just want to sleep with you,” Spencer admitted. Y/N wiggled her eyebrows and Spencer laughed. “You know what I mean.”

Y/N tried to pull a pout but just ended up smiling. “Fine. Come on, spoilsport. Let’s go to bed.”

⧭⧭⧭

“It was just… not a good day for her.” Spencer leaned back on the couch and scrubbed his hands over his face.

Y/N sat next to him on the couch. She couldn’t find the right words. “I’m so sorry, Spence.”

“Pragmatically, I know that there’s nothing more I could be doing. She made it clear what she wants, and I can’t force her to take medications or try new treatments.” He looked down at his hands, fingers tracing the lines of his palms. “But some days I—I just can’t… reconcile that this is what her life is now. Just… remembering less and less every day. Being confused and agitated all the time. I mean, all the time.” He paused and drew his lips into a thin line. “Not knowing who I am. That happens much more frequently than it used to.”

Y/N reclined back next to him on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table and pressing her shoulder to Spencer’s. “Even if she doesn’t always remember, you do. And if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you are irritatingly persistent,” she joked. “You won’t ever stop trying to remind her. And that’s the best thing you can do for her.”

Spencer nodded, dropping his head onto Y/N’s shoulder. She tilted her head, an idea flitting across the front of her mind. “Hey, here’s a thought. You know that scrapbook your mom made? Every page is a story from her life. But she stopped around the time you were like, ten, right?”

“Yeah. There’s… not much in there after that.”

“Ok so, what if you picked up where she left off? You have so many great stories and memories with her. You could put some of your journals and articles in there, too. Pictures of you and the team. That one of you and Ethan in New Orleans. Ones with Henry and Michael. Maybe one of you in the lecture hall.” Y/N sat up. “Writing her letters is great, you should keep doing that for sure. But did you know that visual aids—like, particularly photographs—can help stimulate memory recall in Alzheimer’s patients at any stage?”

Spencer smiled. “I actually did know that.”

“Ugh of course you did. Couldn’t just let me have this one thing.” Y/N rolled her eyes, though Spencer caught the hint of a grin underneath the feigned annoyance. “Seriously, I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner. I have a ton of scrapbooking stuff,” Y/N said, scrambling up from the couch and into her bedroom.

“You do?” Spencer furrowed his brow. “I’ve never seen you scrapbook.”

“Eh, yeah, it was a phase,” she called from the bedroom. “Scrapbooking paper’s expensive as fuck, so it was a short-lived hobby.”

Spencer chuckled, listening to the sounds of Y/N rummaging through the bedroom closet. There was a muffled thud. “Everything okay in there?”

There were a couple more bumps and bangs, and then, “Ah yeah, here we go.” Emerging from the bedroom, Y/N wheeled a huge black roller bag over to the couch. She unzipped the top pocket and Spencer peered inside. “Oh so you meant, quite literally, a ton of scrapbooking stuff.”

“Look, my ADHD goes all out when it comes to starting new projects.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “It’s the, you know, finishing projects that we struggle with.”

The pair went about die cutting, arranging, gluing, and giggling. Y/N scoured the depths of the internet (namely Penelope’s Facebook page) for photographs of Spencer—in costume at the BAU Halloween party, in his tuxedo at JJ and Will’s wedding, a selfie with Penelope at a Dr. Who convention, a candid of him doing magic for Jack and Henry, and even one of him singing karaoke.

Spencer worked on laying out the pages, gluing down frames and choosing decals that reminded him of his mother. He wrote a short synopsis on each page, summarizing his degrees, his work, and his friends. By the end of the afternoon, they had more than a dozen pages for the new book.

“I need one more picture,” Spencer said.

“I thought I got one of everyone? Or is there another karaoke picture that I don’t know about?” Y/N gawked over the top of the laptop from her spot on the couch. She was never going to let him live that down.

Spencer laughed. “No, I’m pretty sure that’s the only photographic evidence of that night.” He turned and smiled up at Y/N from where he sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by scraps of paper and the remnants of sticker packs. “I need that one of us at the Cherry Blossom festival.”

“Oh. Well, um.” A blush crept up Y/N’s cheeks. “Coming right up.” She sent the photo to the printer, standing to retrieve it from her desk.

It was quiet in the room apart from the sounds of the printer, rhythmically whirring and inking the memory into life. Y/N absentmindedly chewed the inside of her lip, waiting for the final strokes of the photo to be laid. She turned back, photo in hand, to see Spencer smiling at her, soft and warm.

Over the course of the afternoon, he had swapped his shoes for a pair of fuzzy socks, and his contacts for his glasses. Y/N’s heart actually ached at the length of his sweater sleeves, covering all but the tips of his fingers. The picture of domesticity, Spencer patted the floor next to him. When Y/N sat, he took the photo from her hand, meticulously adding glue dots to each corner before pressing it down onto the page. He lifted his arm, tucking Y/N underneath and pulling her close. “Thank you. For all of this.”

“You’re very welcome.” Y/N snuggled a little deeper into his embrace. “All right so let’s see this masterpiece.”

When they arrived at the last page, Y/N was still incredulous over the details of the karaoke story. “Okay, but there has to be a video somewhere.”

“Oh, I’m sure there is. And you will never, ever see it.”

“Penelope Garcia is a tech wizard, and she is not above a bribe,” Y/N warned.

“What a coincidence, because I am also not above a bribe. Especially if it keeps that video from ever seeing the light of day.” Spencer laughed and squeezed Y/N’s shoulder. “I think this page is my favorite.”

Y/N and I at the Cherry Blossom festival. Y/N is kind, thoughtful, and passionate. She never fails to make me laugh. She’s always up for cloud watching with me, although she prefers altocumulus formations to the cumuliform heaps. We read together almost every night. You both love King Arthur and the Legends of the Round Table, particularly Tristan and Iseult. I could write a million more words about her and it wouldn’t be enough. When I was little, you told me that love is a world of its own that lives in the heart, not in the head. I know exactly what you mean.

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N tossed under the duvet, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to find a comfortable position. She had been sleeping for so long that her lower back was aching, the type of pain that twinges like the ticking of a clock, steady and incessant. She rolled over onto her stomach, stretching her whole body and reaching to turn the alarm clock toward her—3:27pm. She huffed, burying her head in the pillow with a loud groan. She had called out of work to have a productive day at home, and instead she slept the day away.

Y/N threw the duvet off and sat up. She tried not to let the guilt of calling out creep in. Instead, she shuffled into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. She resolved that small victories might be all she was capable of today.

She pulled her favorite sweater from the hook on her bedroom door, wrapping it tightly around her as she stepped over the threshold into the living and dining space. This is why she had stayed in bed so long. Y/N had been spending so much time at Spencer’s that she had been able to ignore the declining Depression Room™ facing her now.

Three days’ worth of dishes were piled in the sink. There was a stack of unopened mail about a mile high on the kitchen island. The trash and recycling needed emptying about a week ago. Jackets and shoes were strewn about the place—over chairs, the back of the couch, all over the floor. The coffee table was littered with granola bar wrappers, an old McDonald’s bag, empty gatorade bottles, and the dirty containers from last night’s takeout. Her desk was overrun with unfinished lesson plans, professional development books that needed reading, and spelling tests that needed grading.

Y/N knew she would feel better once she started, but she also knew it would take her all day to get the apartment looking even halfway decent. Since she had spent so long in bed, she had even less time to get it done. She was failing to fend off the guilt of calling out, particularly since she hadn’t actually gotten any work done. Compounding her guilt was the fact that Spencer’s apartment was always so clean and cozy. His job was a thousand times more demanding than hers. His life had more trauma and daily stressors than she could even imagine. And still, Y/N was struggling with basic adult tasks. She couldn’t understand it.

Just hang the jackets up. Throw away the junk mail. Wash the pots and pans first, then the plates and silverware. It will take four minutes to take the trash out. Spelling tests need to be in the grade book before the end of the marking period.

The door buzzer sounded and Y/N nearly jumped out of her skin. Running a hand through her hair and cringing at the greasiness, she crossed to the intercom and pushed the button to talk.

“Yes?”

“Hey!” Spencer’s chipper voice crackled through the speaker. “I tried calling you but couldn’t get through.”

Y/N was immediately torn between relief and panic. She was desperately in need of a hug and his company, but she was also mortified imagining what Spencer would think about the state of her apartment, the state of her life. “Y/N?” His voice broke through her musing.

“Yeah, sorry!” She tried to school her voice into something resembling normalcy. “Sorry, I—my phone died and I just— well, yeah.”

There was a pause, and then a tentative, “Can you buzz me in?”

“Oh, um.” Y/N turned and surveyed the apartment. There was nothing to be done. If she said no, Spencer would know for sure that something was wrong. “Sure, yeah yeah, hang on. Just—just a minute.”

Y/N moved quickly around the space and gathered the jackets and shoes into her arms. She fumbled with the door handle of the coat closet, tossing them in haphazardly and closing the door. There was no time to do much of anything else. She jogged back to the intercom, pressing the door button and then roping her hair up into a bun, hoping she could mask how dirty it was. She could hear Spencer coming up the squeaky stairs and felt her eyes start to water. She tilted her head back to keep the tears at bay.

Even Spencer’s knocking sounded happy. And of course that only made Y/N feel worse. She plastered on her best smile and opened the door. “Hi.”

“Hey!” Spencer stepped past Y/N, kissing her cheek and dropping his bag as he entered the apartment. “We had a paperwork day, and I write reports about as fast as I read, so I’m always done early. How was your day?”

“Um, you know, it was ok.”

Spencer’s eyes tracked over her face. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, I just wasn’t feeling great this morning. I called in, just hung around here.”

“You could have called me.” Spencer stepped closer. “How are you feeling now? What were your symptoms?”

“I’m fine. I was just, um—just really exhausted.”

Spencer studied her face a moment. “What’s going on?”

“Hmm? Nothing. Nothing, I’m fine.” Y/N cursed her wavering voice for betraying her emotions.

“Y/N, you have never once, in all the time I’ve known you, failed to answer your phone. I almost thought you were going to tell me to go away before you buzzed me up.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Did I— Did I do something to make you upset?”

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling more awful by the minute. Of course Spencer would worry it was his fault. “No, no, Spence, not at all. I just—um.” The genuine concern on Spencer’s face was enough to have it all spilling out. “I get like this sometimes. I can’t focus on anything or don’t feel motivated or whatever, so I put things off, and then they build up until there’s so much to do that I don’t know where to start, so then I don’t start anything, and then I feel bad about being lazy and not getting things done, and I get so overwhelmed that all I can do is sleep for like, fourteen hours like I did today, and then the whole day is gone and I still haven’t accomplished anything I was supposed to—”

“Whoa, whoa, c’mere.” Y/N hadn’t even realized she was crying until Spencer pulled her into him. He locked his arms around her back so tight it almost hurt. She was vaguely aware of the volume of her sobs, but she couldn’t even bring herself to be embarrassed. It was a completely visceral moment of release, one that she might never have permitted herself without Spencer’s prompting. Now that the floodgates were open, there was no stopping the rush of everything she had allowed to build up. She spent so much of her life being the one who helped, always listening, supporting, and comforting the people around her. She was good at it, and she liked being someone that others could count on whenever they needed her. She just didn’t know how to listen to, support, and comfort herself.

Eventually, her mind and body began to slow down, plunging from the emotional high. When Spencer felt her breathing return to that consistent rhythm, he loosened his grip around her. He left one arm firmly around her waist and used his other hand to rub circles on her back.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N mumbled into his chest. “This is so stupid. Compared to the stuff you see every day—”

“No— no.” Spencer pulled back to force her eyes up. “Don’t do that. Just because horrible things happen to other people doesn’t mean that what you’re going through isn’t hard. Y/N, do you hear me? Don’t diminish your own pain because you think someone else has it worse.” He cupped her chin gently in his hand. “What can I do to help you right now?”

“You already have helped,” Y/N sniffed. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Y/N... you’re not fine. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It—it’s okay to not be fine. But seeing you in pain hurts me, too. And I need to be able to do something about it.” He cradled her face in both hands. “You help me all the time. Please, let me do this for you. Let me be here for you.” After a moment, Y/N nodded and that was approval enough for Spencer. “What did you eat today?

“I um, I didn’t yet.” She sniffed. “I slept pretty late.”

“Okay, well it’s after 4:00pm. We’ve got to eat something.” Spencer ran his hands down Y/N’s arms. “I’d cook for you, but we already know how that story usually ends. How about takeout from the Indian place? They’re usually pretty quick.”

Y/N nodded again. “I need to take a shower, too.”

Spencer kissed her forehead. “You hop in the shower, and I’ll call in the order. It’ll be here by the time you’re done.”

When Y/N emerged from the bathroom, hair damp and skin smelling like lavender, the familiar aroma of curry and tandoori was drifting through the apartment. The coffee table was cleared and the kitchen table set with the takeout boxes and mugs of tea. The trash and recycling were freshly emptied. Spencer stood over the sink finishing up the last few dishes, the pots and pans already laid out to dry. He was quietly singing along to a familiar song—one of their favorites. His voice was sweet and soft and slightly off-key, and her heart panged in the best way as he sang:

Don't put the world on your shoulders 'cause you know it ain't your load to bear alone.

Y/N waited until the final notes of the song faded out, padding quietly across the kitchen floor. “You didn’t have to do all this,” Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his middle.

Spencer dried his hands before turning in her embrace. “I don’t mind. I like taking care of you. And I learned from the best.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and spoke against her skin. “You can even have the last Jell-o.”

Y/N smiled, quick and genuine. There were moments when life crashed over her, relentless waves breaking her down into grains of sand. And in those moments, this man forever grounded her to the truth—that she was treasured and deserving and whole— all of her, just as she was.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminals minds self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #homoose writes

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hercleverboy · 4 years ago

Text

the beauty of falling in love

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ spencer is determined to show the reader just how beautiful love can be.

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ mentions of sex, swearing.

word count ↠ 4.5k

“Hug me like the night holds the moon.” — Alexandra Vasiliu

Falling in love with her was never a choice.

It started slowly, building up over the first few months since she’d joined the team. He often lost his train of thought when he was around her, stumbling over his words and getting flustered easily when she paid him a single ounce of attention.

And then one day, it hit him. All at once.

He was in love with her.

At first, he was filled with an unimaginable guilt.

He’d only lost Maeve just two years prior, and it felt like he was betraying her, to find himself in love with another woman.

But when he looked at her, it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. Not even with Maeve. Maeve was his first love, and he was hoping that Y/N would be his last.

Spencer knew he was more confident now than he had been a few years back. No longer was he an awkward boy who couldn’t gather up the nerve to ask a girl out. Despite all the hurt that had come from losing his first love, it’d definitely taught him a thing or two. He longed to feel the warmth and giddiness that came with falling in love with someone, to be consumed by another’s affections.

As the age old cliche goes, Y/N seemed oblivious to Spencer’s yearning. Though it wasn’t entirely her fault, as his idea of flirting wasn’t exactly obvious to the subject of his desire.

He’d bring her coffee from her favourite little shop on chilly winter mornings, watching as her face lit up with joy and feeling the familiar tenderness fill him, knowing he was the reason she was smiling. Of course, Y/N only interpreted the act as a friend buying another friend a drink, when it really was so much more than that.

When his attempt at showing her that he wanted to be more failed, he went back to the drawing board, brainstorming other ways he could tell her he loved her without ever actually having to say the words.

His second approach came in the form of touch. More specifically, not being so uptight over touch. He wasn’t going to push himself to a point where he would be uncomfortable, but he was going to be a little more open to touch. And besides, if it came from Y/N, he figured he wouldn’t mind it at all. The approach was executed for the first time on the way home on the jet after a case that had shaken the entire team. He sat next to her as he always did, but this time he reached out his hand, that was trembling ever so slightly to place over her own shaking hands. She looked up from her lap, facing Spencer with a shocked look on her face. Sure, they’d hugged and such before, during dinner nights at Rossi’s or after they experienced a ‘I thought I lost you’ moment in the field, but never had he shown that level of affection before.

He took it another step further. The next time they were on the jet, it was late, and the team were exhausted after spending days in a row awake as they worked a gruelling child abduction case. It had ended pretty well, with the child home safe and the unsub in custody, but the entire team had practically passed out as soon as they were sat in the soft leather seats of the jet. Y/N had fallen asleep next to him, her neck bent at an angle that couldn’t have been comfortable. Seeing this, Spencer placed down the book he was reading on the table in front of him, quickly glancing around the jet to check that the team were asleep, mostly so Morgan wouldn’t tease him for what he was about to do.

He gently moved his arm, placing it around her shoulder and smoothly guiding her body to rest against his, her head dropping down onto his shoulder in a much more comfortable position than it was before. He succeeded in not waking her, smiling down at her when she nestled her face into the crook of his neck as she slept, her small hands gripping onto the fabric of his sweater vest as cute soft snores left her lips.

When the pilot announced they were due to land within the next few minutes, Spencer gently shook Y/N awake, hoping that he wouldn’t startle her. She blinked her pretty eyes open slowly, taking in her surroundings. She smiled a little when she noticed the position she’d been sleeping in, sitting up. spencer tried not to seem too upset when she pulled completely away from him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to use you as a human pillow.” She joked.

He pushed his slight upset aside, forcing a small smile. “It’s okay. You were sleeping in a position that would’ve hurt your neck if you stayed in it, so I figured my shoulder would be better for you.” He tried so hard to pour as much sincerity and sentiment into the words as he could, hoping and praying she’d read between the lines.

She didn’t. She simply patted his chest, murmuring a small ‘thank you’, before buckling her seat belt for landing.

Spencer was starting to lose hope in his subtle approach, part of him figuring he was just going to have to come right out and say it- ‘I love you and I have done for months now.’

One evening, after a tiring paperwork day in the office, Spencer looked around the bullpen to see that everyone else on the team had gone home. Himself and Y/N were the only ones still packing up. Feelings aside, they were close friends, and normally waited for one another to pack up before walking out together to their cars.

Y/N threw the strap of her handbag over her shoulder, eyes sweeping over her desk to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She turned around, walking toward the exit of the bullpen as she glanced over to Spencer, who was placing a book inside his satchel.

“You ready to go?” She asked.

He threw his satchel strap over his shoulder, nodding as he followed her out to the elevators.

As they waited for the elevator, Y/N took note of how fidgety he seemed. His fingers played anxiously with the leather strap of his bag, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he looked down at his shoes. A ding sounded out, the doors opening before them, Spencer gesturing with his hand for her to go in first- ever the gentleman.

Y/N waited a moment to see if he would start talking, like he usually did, rambling about something or other. However, he seemed uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes trained on the floor. She could practically hear the cogs turning in his head. She decided she’d just start talking to fill the silence, knowing that Spencer would speak when he wanted to.

At the sound of her voice, his eyes snapped up to her face. He wasn’t listening to what she was talking about, instead his eyes lingered on her facial features, memorising every freckle, the blush on her cheeks and the passion in her eyes as she spoke. His mind swam with possibilities.

How am I supposed to make a move? I’m obviously going to have to be more upfront about it so she gets the message.

They exited the elevator once it reached the lower level car park. She turned to Spencer with an unsure smile, wanting to ask if there was something wrong but deciding against it. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she gave him a simple wave and headed off in the direction of her car.

Spencer stood there, watching her walk away as his brain worked at a thousand miles a minute to come up with something to say-

“Wait up!” He called after her, speeding to follow after her. She turned around at the call of her name, confused as she saw Spencer coming after her.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah- it’s just, its late. Let me walk you to your car.” He proposed, saying the first thing he could think of that would buy him some more time.

Y/N’s face showed that of surprise, but she nodded, nonetheless. “Okay. Thanks, Spence.”

Once they reached her car, she turned to face him with a small smile. “Well, thanks again. I’ll see you tomorrow?” She opened her car door, throwing her bag inside first onto the passenger seat.

Spencer’s mind was in overdrive, trying to think of what to do. How could he make it clear to her?

He could only think of one thing.

When she turned back around to face him, she let out a gasp at the feeling of his lips on hers. His hands cradled her cheeks gently and his lips pressed against her own. The action shocked her, and before she had much of an opportunity to kiss back or even think about what was happening, he’d pulled away.

His eyes darted across her face, trying to gage her reaction and his hands fell from her cheeks, hanging by his side as he took a few steps back. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that I-“ He squeaked, trying to think of what he could say to make the situation any better. Instead, he swallowed his nerves and just decided to come out with it all. There was really no going back now. “No- I do know why I did it. I love you, Y/N. I have done for months. You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted you to know, that’s all.”

Y/N still had that shocked expression on her face as she choked out. “You- you love me?”

“Yes.” Spencer whispered, afraid to say the words.

“Oh.” Y/N started, her mouth opening and closing as she desperately tried to find the right words to explain herself. “I don’t really know what to say.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything, it’s clear I shouldn’t have done that. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Spencer cringed, quickly turning around and heading towards his own car.

“Spencer, wait!” Y/N called after him, but he kept walking, too overwhelmed and embarrassed to hear what she had to say.

Fuck. That could’ve gone better.

Y/N thumped down in her driver’s seat, pulling the door of the car shut behind her. Her breaths got heavy, and she felt the familiar weight on her chest as tears pricked at her eyes.

She put her head in her hands and sobbed.

Spencer sat at his desk, nervously twiddling his thumbs as his knee bounced anxiously under the table. He’d arrived at work that day earlier than usual so he could give himself time to figure out what the hell he was going to do when he saw her. He bit down on his lip as he stared at the glass bullpen doors, waiting for Y/N to arrive.

He occupied himself with thinking of what he was going to say when he saw her. Should he say he didn’t mean it, and hope that would save their friendship? Or would that only make it worse? She obviously didn’t feel the same, so what was he supposed to do? Part of him felt bad that he hadn’t stayed and heard her out, listened to whatever she had to say. But he just had to get out of there. After all, he’d essentially put his heart in her hands, laid everything out on the table for her and she’d said ‘Oh.’

He didn’t notice a presence beside him until a hand waved in his face. Alex was perched on the end of his desk; waving her hand in front of his face, evidently trying to get his attention.

“Reid? Hello?”

He blinked out of his daze, looking up at her. “Hm?”

“I asked what was up with you. You seem.. distant.” Alex noted.

“It’s nothing.” He brushed her off, not feeling like talking about it.

Alex narrowed her eyes down at the boy who’d become like a son to him. “Yeah, like I believe that. Come on, you can tell me.”

He sighed, giving in and swivelling in his chair to face her. “I walked Y/N to her car last night.”

Alex’s face lit up. She knew how bad the crush he had on Y/N was, as she was one of the few that he’d trusted enough to confide in. This was because he knew, unlike the others, Alex wouldn’t make fun of or baby him about it. She treated him like an actual person, and he liked that.

She clapped her hands together excitedly. “See? I told you that you had it in you.” Alex’s excited was short-lived as she saw the look of disappointment on his face. “What happened?”

Spencer cringed as the memory resurfaced. “I kissed her.”

Alex nodded, not quite letting her excitement show for the sake of Spencer. “That’s good, right? So she knows how you feel now?”

Spencer shrugged. “I guess. But she didn’t say anything; and she didn’t exactly kiss back. And then I got too nervous and I left. So I don’t really know.”

Alex nodded in understanding. “I mean, she was probably just shocked. Give her a little time, I’m sure everything will pan out.” She attempted to advise, settling a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Spencer nodded, grateful for Alex’s advice. He’d just have to deal with it when Y/N got there. He couldn’t very well avoid her forever.

However Y/N didn’t show that day. He overheard JJ tell Derek that she’d called in sick, but he knew that it was likely because she didn’t want to have to face him.

And so, despite what how his mind told him to give her space, he couldn’t help how compelled he felt to drive to her apartment, to at least try and mend what he had broken.

He stopped by the flower shop on his way, hoping that a pretty bouquet might work in his favour if she ended up being mad at him. That was how he ended up stood outside her apartment door, contemplating whether what he was doing was actually a good idea.

He shook all the negativity from his head, raising his hand to knock three times on the door. He heard the shuffle of feet, before the door swung open, Y/N poking her head out to see who was there.

She smiled when she saw him, though she was evidently shocked. “Spencer? What’re you doing here?” She asked, tilting her head to the side in question in a way that Spencer thought was adorable.

“I came to apologise. I’m sorry for what happened yesterday. I- I bought these for you.” He held out a beautiful bouquet of purple flowers, wrapped in a blue tissue paper with a purple ribbon around them.

She gasped at the sight of them, reaching out to take them from him. “God, Spencer- they’re stunning.”

“They’re Hyacinths.” He started, searching desperately for something to say so that there was no room for any awkwardness, even if that meant rambling about flowers. “The purple colour represents sorrow and apologies. They’re often used as a way of asking for forgiveness.” He finished, and she brought them up to her nose, breathing in their sweet scent.

“Thank you so much, they’re lovely, but forgiveness?” She questioned. “What would you need forgiveness for?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, he thought that much was obvious. “When I kissed you yesterday, it evidently made you uncomfortable, and I just really wanted to apologise for ruining our friendship.”

“Ruining our- oh, Spencer, no. It’s not like that. Why don’t you- would you like to come in?” She asked, stepping back so he could come inside. He nodded, stepping in and taking in the space as she closed the door behind him.

She moved to her kitchen so she could fill a vase with some water to place the flowers in, before she went out to her living room, sitting down on her couch and patting the space next to her.

He sat down next to her, placing his bag by his feet on the floor, his gaze in his lap as she spoke. “Why would you think you’d ruined our friendship?”

“When you didn’t turn up for work today I just assumed it was because of what happened last night and if I overstepped I am truly sorry. I don’t expect you to return my feelings or anything, and If you could forget that I said anything, we could just go back to being friends?” He posed, trying to salvage what he could.

“You didn’t overstep.” She whispered. “I’m sorry for not kissing back. I wanted to, believe me, I did. It’s just-“ She paused, looking down at her hands that were folded neatly in her lap. “I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” He whispered back, looking up from his lap to study her own actions.

“Of being vulnerable, falling in love.” She mumbled. “I don’t want to be in a position where I can get hurt again. Things ended so horribly with my last boyfriend and I promised myself I wouldn’t let myself get hurt again, promised that I would just swear myself off from love.” She sniffled, and his heart broke at the sight of tears welling in her eyes. “But then I met you, and that all pretty much went down the drain.” She laughed a little. “Truth is, Spencer, I do love you. But I can’t let myself be so vulnerable again. I’m so afraid of being hurt like I was before; especially when it took me so long to repair myself after my last boyfriend. I can’t- I won’t go through that again.” She whimpered and he nodded, turning his whole body to face her.

“Y/N, you have to know, I would never hurt you. Not like he did, not ever. God, if you were mine- not a day would go by where you didn’t know how much I loved you.” He whimpered, his voice cracking slightly as his throat grew dry.

“I know you wouldn’t but- I just don’t believe in it all. Loving someone has only ever brought me pain and suffering, so why would we be any different?”

He shook his head at her words. “No. Love is- love is one of the most beautiful things in the world.” He reached out, gripping her hands tightly in his. “Let me show you.”

“Show me what?” she sniffled.

“Just how beautiful love can be. True, warming, passionate. Just, let me show you how you deserving you are of love.” He was pleading, and Y/N was so emotionally worn out that she just nodded, crumpling into his chest as she cried, his arms coming around her. “It’s okay, sweet girl. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Spencer was truly committed to proving to Y/N that love exists. The pair had begun dating shortly after the conversation they had at Y/N’s apartment, and she was really starting to see what Spencer was talking about. He showcased his love for her in a multitude of ways.

The first? Dates. Whenever they got the time, Spencer took her on spontaneous late night walks when they got home late from a case but were too overwhelmed to sleep. They’d bundle up in big coats to combat the chill in the air of the night, laughing and chatting quietly as they walked, hands swinging between them. He’d kiss her goodnight when they got back to her apartment, igniting a fire within her, this flicker of warmth and passion and happiness.

The second? A conversation she had with Derek one afternoon in the office kitchenette. She was leaning against the worktop waiting for the kettle to boil, so she could make herself and Spencer a coffee to get them through the towering pile of paperwork they each had to complete. She was staring off out the window, not paying much attention when Derek came up towards her, grabbing a water from the mini fridge and saying her name as a form of greeting. He waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention when he didn’t receive a response, and she snapped her gaze toward him, warm smile on her lips.

“Hey, Morgan. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good. How about you? How’s everything going with Pretty Ricky over there?” He nodded in Spencer’s direction, and Y/N’s eyes followed, landing on her boyfriend who was quickly flipping over the pages of a case file for his report.

“It’s- it’s good. We’re good.” She smiled, not sure what else she could say without getting too flustered.

Derek studied her intently, watching how her cheeks flushed as she watched Spencer.

“You know how happy you make him, right?”

Y/N was surprised by the comment, turning her gaze back to look at Derek. “What?”

“The smile you’ve put on that kids face, every day? I haven’t seen him smile like that in years. Not since-“ He cut himself off, not wanting to dredge up the past.

She knew what he was going to say, anyway.

Not since Maeve.

Derek cleared his throat and continued talking. “I shouldn’t tell you this, he made me promise I wouldn’t say anything, but he was talking about you the other day.”

“He was?”

Derek nodded. “Kid got all flustered when I asked about you. The blush on his cheeks, he was red as a damn tomato.” He smirked, and Y/N chuckled at the comment. “But, seriously. The way he talks about you? It’s like you’re a goddess of some sort. His eyes quite literally sparkle when he mentions you. His whole face lights up.”

“I’m lucky to have him.” She replied. She felt such a tenderness swell within her as she heard how highly he spoke of her to his friends, it made her feel so loved. She grinned at Morgan before she glanced back over to Spencer and met his gaze. Spencer was watching the interaction from across the room with a frown on his face. When their eyes met he stood up from his desk, making his way over.

“What are you guys talking about?” He pouted adorably, and Derek chuckled, putting his arms up in a fake surrender.

“Nothin’, genius. Just having a chat with your girl here. But I’ll be on my way now.” He smirked, walking away.

Y/N blushed, turning around and busying herself with making Spencer’s coffee, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many questions, though she knew he would. He stood next to her, still pouting.

“What did he say?” He asked, inquisitively.

Y/N shook her head with a smile. “Oh, nothing.”

He whined theatrically, throwing his head back. “Y/NNN.” He dragged out her name as she finished spooning half the sugar jar into his coffee. She slid it toward him as she looked up to meet his eyes.

He gave her his best puppy dog eyes and she relented with a sigh. “He just told me that sometimes you talk about me to him and the team.”

He smiled nervously, gaze dropping down. “All good things, I promise.” He mumbled.

She pushed herself up onto her tiptoes do kiss his cheek gently, which was as much PDA as Hotch would let them get away with in the office. That and the occasional hand hold. “I know. Thank you.” She smiled, before picking up her coffee and walking back to her desk.

The third? Flowers. Every Tuesday, without fail, she’d walk into the office and find a new bouquet on her desk. Or if they were away on a case, he’d place them in the hotel room that they were allowed to share. Each bouquet was accompanied with a note that explained why he bought that particular flower, and what meaning they had.

One morning she came into the office and immediately smiled at the sight of that Tuesday’s bouquet, laid gently on her desktop. She placed her bag down on her chair, lifting the bouquet and plucking the little note that sat on top of them.

‘ Peonies. The Chinese name for ‘most beautiful’ quite literally translates to Peony.

It seems only fitting, as you’re the most beautiful woman on earth.

Love, Spencer. ‘

It felt like Y/N’s heart might jump right out from her chest with how harshly it was beating against her ribcage.

The fourth? Sex. Obviously. Whilst he wasn’t completely inexperienced in the bedroom, he was still a little unsure. Still, he did his research. Unless she requested otherwise, he’d take his time with her. Unless she asked that he be slightly rougher with her, he went slowly, gently, determined that every move and every kiss showcased exactly how much he loved her. He wanted to make love to her, the woman he craved more than anything else.

The fifth? How he held her. On those early Sunday mornings, when no one else was awake. where the golden sun filtered through the gap in the curtains, painting her bare skin in a warming glow that Spencer could only describe as heavenly. She slept peacefully on his chest, his arms around her, one hand holding one of her hands while the other ran up and down her back soothingly. He’d press little kisses to the crown of her head, nuzzling his nose into her hair, breathing her in.

It was pure bliss.

She’d never felt so happy.

She’d never been so in love before.

Upon this realisation, she let her eyelids flutter open, titling her head up slightly to meet his eyes.

“Morning, beautiful.” He whispered, his voice deep and raspy as it always was in the morning.

She beamed up at him, and he brought his head down so he could press his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

When they pulled back, she felt tears in her eyes as she looked at him. She’d given herself wholly and her heart entirely to Spencer Reid, and he hadn’t hurt her. He’d loved her with everything he had in him, shown her nothing but passion and kindness and opened her to a warmth she hadn’t felt before.

She felt so loved.

Noticing the tears that welled in her eyes, Spencer frowned, moving his hands up to cup her cheeks sweetly. “Why’re you crying?”

“Thank you.”

His frown deepened. “For what?”

“For showing me how beautiful love can be. For loving me. And for allowing me to love you in return.” She whispered, and he smiled down at her.

“It was never a choice. Falling in love with you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

She just nodded at him, moving forward to connect their lips again. She let herself get lost in the euphoric feeling that his love gave her. And while there was no string of words that could correctly convey just how she felt, she knew one that summed it up nicely.

Paradise.

Tag list ; @beyonces-breastmilk @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #mgg #criminal minds

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mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years ago

Text

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part 11)

A/N- Okay so this is just a short 2k fill in chapter! It’s kinda cute and kinda sad but it was too long to add to the last chapter, and it doesn’t fit in with the theme of the next chapter (though it sets it up quite nicely!). The next chapter is likely going to be a bit angsty but I promise it’ll have a rewarding ending to it! I hope to have it written and up sooner rather than later but, until then, enjoy this little piece.

Word Count- 2028

The ten minute drive from Baker Street to the Natural History Museum went by in a flash- most of it being spent by Mycroft giving you a mental tour of the building's various rooms and the 'most appropriate route to take'. Though it did also take a minute or two for you to convince him to not get everybody kicked out for a private visit, no matter how many people were there.. Admittedly, you hadn't been to the museum for 6 years or so now- after living so long in London it feels less of a luxury being only round the corner from it- but walking through the doors made you feel like a child again. Entry to the museum was free, but that didn't mean you didn't see Mycroft swiftly pushing a few notes into the donation bin at the front before guiding you forwards. Glancing up, you eyed the blue whale skeleton that hung from the ceiling and frowned. Mycroft caught your look and spoke up.

"Ah yes, Hope has been a relatively recent addition to the museum. She was found dead on an Irish beach back in 1891. It's a rather beautiful marvel to gaze upon, though, large as she is, she doesn't quite fill the hole in my heart that was left after my beloved Dippy was removed." Your eyes scanned the skeleton of the large mammal once more before looking back at Mycroft. "I did try to convince the board to keep the diplodocus somewhere but all attempts were futile. There's only so much force you can put into such a topic without exposing yourself as-"

"As a man who loves dinosaur bones more than he loves people?" Mycroft shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed.

"The very thing." Lifting your arm, you rested your hand at the crook of Mycroft's elbow to encourage him to move on.

"When we get home and have dinner we can raise a toast in Dippy's honour.. but for now, my mind's been taken over by that huge statue of Darwin." And the pair of you headed off, your hand very much staying place at Mycroft's arm as you wandered through the rooms- Mycroft more than willing to reel off facts about every deceased animal of history and, more often than not, even impressing the workers with his spiel of facts. Though you were very much enjoying wandering aimlessly through the room of human evolution, you most definitely noticed the pull from the man beside you as he was eager to reach his beloved dino-pals. As you turned the corner into the slightly darkened dinosaur room, you tripped over your feet slightly as you felt Mycroft stop in his tracks, his eyes wide and taking everything in. He looked as happy as a boy at Christmas and, quite frankly, it was adorable. You nudged him slightly when he still didn't move. "You okay?"

"Sorry, it just seems as though, no matter how many times I come here, it always feels like the first." He had shaken his head as though to bring his thoughts back to focus before taking a few steps into the gallery and leading you over to the skeletal remains of a Baryonyx. "The name Baryonyx roughly translates to 'Heavy Claw' from the Ancient Greek's 'Barys' meaning heavy and 'onyx' being claw or talon." He spoke, his voice smooth and relaxed as his fingers brushed over the board that announced the name of the creature within the glass. "It was also an excellent swimmer which it would use to its advantage while hunting." You listened to his every word as he spoke, grinning as he excitedly told you how many teeth it had and it's preferred techniques for capturing food before he moved you onto the next one.

"Oh these beauties have always been my favourite." You almost whispered, taking in the sight of the huge triceratops skull. You barely noticed Mycroft's hand shift from his pocket until you felt the heat of his palm against the small of your back, fingers squeezing slightly by your hip as he spoke.

"Mine too. Sherlock used to say they were boring and that we might as well have gone to the zoo to look at rhinos. He ended up spending 5 months trying to prove that the rhinos were descendants from the triceratops and then avoided me for 3 weeks when he realised there was no connection at all."

"That sounds about right. Though I can't imagine Sherlock enjoying it here very much anyway.." Mycroft began to guide you to a small bench just off the side to sit down, still giving you the view of the beautiful dinosaur bones.

"He didn't. When we were much younger he would kick off until Mummy and Father would tell us it's time to go and I had to go with them.. Then as we got a little older and Sherlock properly found his legs, he would simply run from the doors round to the science museum. Of course mummy and father had to follow him as he was so young, but one time I decided to stay here. They didn't realise I hadn't followed them until it was time to go home 5 hours later." Mycroft spoke quietly.

"Found his legs? That's at, what, four? Five? How young were you?"

"I was 9 the first time, I think." Now, Mycroft, you don't just 'think'; you know. Your hand moved to rest above his own on his knee, brushing your thumb fondly over his knuckles. "But it isn't all bad. Some of my best days as a child were spent here, and a lot of the staff were very kind and would teach me extra facts that weren't displayed. There was one gentleman who even gave me his own copies of some books that they had here. I'd wander the whole museum in time but I always found myself back here on this bench just.. watching. This room felt more like home than my very house sometimes. It was the room where I could escape the real world and find peace. Eventually Mummy, Father and Sherlock stopped bothering with the visits because Sherlock found the science museum boring after he'd prove them wrong on something each time, but I'd still pop back in on occasion without them.. Coming to think about it, I've never actually brought anybody here with me at all." You squeezed at his fingers and settled back into the bench.

"Well I am incredibly glad that I found out about your little interest, and I feel even more honoured that you let me come here with you." You beamed. And it was the truth. Evidently, this little museum meant much more to Mycroft than you could have ever imagined and it warmed your heart to know that he trusted you to see him nerd out over some bones.

"Eventually I used this very building as the scaffolding to build my mind palace. My files on Sherlock, very appropriately, are nestled in the human biology room. But most people's information is either stored in the entrance, where Dippy remains over Hope, might I add, or in a few of the rooms I find less interesting.." You didn't have to ask to know he was referencing 'that room with all the bloody rocks'. "I love most of the galleries too much to taint them with information on people that aren't important. The likes of Gregory and Doctor Watson now reside in Hintze Hall as the years have passed." His eyes remained focused in front of him, unblinking, as though he was wandering the very halls at that moment.

"And where.. where are my files?" You had to ask, really. Since he was on the subject anyway. "If you've put them in the marine reptiles room when you know I'm terrified of the ocean I shall never forgive you." Mycroft's hand flipped beneath yours so the pads of your fingers brushed before he blinked and looked over to you, a small smile on his face.

"Here." Oh. Well that's.. something. You shifted to give him a quick kiss on his cheek, knowing he wasn't overly fond of PDA and tugged him to stand.

"And on that note, I think we should go and grab some lunch before you make me cry in front of the dinosaurs."

---

After lunch, you both spent a few more hours walking from room to room (and of course circling round to the dinosaur gallery again) before you decided to call it a day at 4pm. Before departing, you headed towards the toilets that happened to be beside the little gift shop and you had a browse while Mycroft was occupied. Grinning, you picked up a deep blue plush triceratops and stroked a finger across its back. It was just small enough that, after purchasing, you could hide the little guy in the loose fabric of the sweatshirt you wore, acting innocent as you waited back outside near the wall. After going to the bathroom yourself, the pair of you headed outside where a car was waiting for you. Sliding in the back seat, you couldn't contain your little gift anymore.

"Surprise!" You laughed, producing the small toy from under your clothes and into the hands of the man beside you. He studied it briefly before beginning to laugh himself as he reached into his inner pocket and handed you the matching dinosaur, though purple in colour. "God, we're such children aren't we?" You noted as you swapped plushie companions, each of you brushing a finger on its nose as though it were a small pet. "I daren't think what your colleagues would say if they knew you were now the proud owner of a baby triceratops teddy that's.." You glanced at the tag. "..Suitable for children aged 12 months plus!"

"Probably nothing as bad as if they realised said triceratops was going to take proud placement on my desk at home." He beamed. "Thank you, this really does mean a great deal to me." You knew he wasn't just talking about the toy that rolled around his long fingers and you shifted to rest your head lightly on his shoulder.

"We can come back any time. I, for one, know I'll never get bored of looking through the galleries.. Or I'll never get bored of watching you light up as we walk through said galleries. Either or works, really." He hummed in response, his emotions slightly overwhelmed from the day and its revelations into his past. "Plus there were about 10 other little dinos in the shop and I've always been one to want a full collection.. so, if we pace ourselves, that's at least 10 more trips."

"13.. Although that could be tripled if we take the colour variations into account."

"Oh, of course! Can't half-arse a collection or it's just pointless."

"I concur."

"That's settled then. Almost 40 more trips to finish off our collection.. And thennnn we can move onto the figurines." Mycroft let out a laugh beside you and tilted to rest his head atop yours for the remainder of the journey home.

---

The evening between you was shared over a meal (where, as promised, a small toast was made to the memory of Sir Dippy) before Mycroft sat to finish the papers for Greg. Eventually you collapsed into bed at a relatively reasonable time, groaning at the throbbing in your legs from the day's adventure before finally slipping into rest.

---

The next day passed relatively quickly. The morning was spent visiting Greg in his office to drop off the papers before the pair of you took a small stroll through the streets of London. Eventually, Mycroft and yourself even got a text message from Sherlock giving a (albeit half-arsed) apology for his behaviour the day before and the rest of the day was spent in bliss. That was until exactly 17 minutes after you got back home when Mycroft's mobile began to ring. He swallowed deeply, showing you the caller ID of the person he had been dreading to speak to post-Eurus and answering.

"Ah, yes.. Hello, Mummy."

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please-buckme · 4 years ago

Text

Our Take On An Office Party

Stephen Glass x fem!reader

Words: 1.4K

Warnings: Smut, 18+, oral(m!Receiving), foul language, choking, you get it.

Request: Thank you for the request bestie!! @haydens-moles 💖💖💖Can you write a horny Xmas story about Stephen Glass where he plays the office Santa and the reader blows him in Santa suit And he’s says, “I guess you’re not mad at me!”

A/N: This is part of ‘Merry Horny-mas but I couldn’t find any good pics for a mood board. :( anyways it’s not great but it’s all I got in such short time. Love y’all 💖

Merry Horny-mas Masterlist

Knock. Knock.

“Come in.” Y/n addresses.

Stephen cracks the door slowly before entering fully. “You wanted to see me, Ma’am?”

“Yes. Shut the door.” Y/n had a prideful smirk across her lips, eyeing Stephen up and down. The Santa costume looked deflated, due to Stephen’s smaller build, and worn. Even in the ratty, used costume Stephen looked delectable to Y/n.

Stephen visibly gulped, shutting the door and finding his seat across from his bosses desk.

“So, are you enjoying the party?” Y/n asks, scooting her chair in a little closer, making Stephen gulp again.

“Oh- oh yeah, a- a great time.” He giggles nervously, “The girls keep sitting on my lap- because I’m Santa.”

Y/n hums, “Yes, I’m sure that's why.” She takes advantage of Stephen’s nervous state, scanning her eyes over his broad shoulders and down, until she sees nothing but the desk. Stephen breathes loudly, trying not to notice the way his boss is eating him alive with her eyes. He fiddles with his thumbs then his glasses, adjusting and readjusting them.

Nervously, he clears his throat and speaks again, “Um, sorry but did I do something? Are- are you mad at me?”

To both of their surprise, Y/n whimpers at his words, biting her lip now. Stephen’s boyish charm always left her flustered and ready to jump his bones. Lately it's been harder not to. Him being so caring and good at his job, not to mention how breathtaking he was, made her walls twitch with just a simple ‘Good morning, Ma’am’.

And when he asks if she’s mad at him.. all bets were off. Sometimes she wondered if Stephen knew what he was doing. Playing the innocent puppy role, knowing damn well what it did to her.

“Ma’am?” Stephen broke through the thick silence. A smirk was still present on Y/n’s face when she stood from her desk, slowly carrying herself to the other side.

“Oh, Steve. How could I ever be mad at you.” She knelt down beside Stephen’s chair. He swiveled to the side she was on, not realizing how close she’d gotten.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I-I..” He went to swivel back but she stopped the chair.

“Sshh.. It’s okay. I actually wanted to ask you something.” She removed her hand from the chair, bringing both her hands to the inside of Stephen’s thighs. His body immediately tensed. When he went to speak, the words fell short, coming out as more of a moan than a coherent response.

“Mmm.. I think that answers my question.” Her fingers tickle at his inner thighs, inching higher and higher.

Stephen clears his throat again, “An-answers wh-what?” He stutters, feeling his heart pound through the itchy material of the Santa costume.

“If you’d ever been touched before.” Y/n states, now rubbing over his hardening member.

“Of- of course I have. Loads of times..uh.” Stephen shudders at Y/n touch. Even through the pants she was making him feel so good.

The head of his cock pulsed when she massaged it slowly between her fingers, making her underwear pool with her own arousal. She could feel her wetness dripping from her underwear and she hadn’t even felt him on her tongue yet. As she continued her movements, massaging her fingers gently, slowly, the feeling of his cock became harder and harder under her touch, making her legs quiver.

“Does that feel good, Baby?” She asked, pressing her fingers a little harder into his cock. He gasped and nodded in response.

“Oh, you can do better than that. Tell me how it feels.” She palmed him, still going at the same slow pace.

“It- it feels good- uh, so fucking good but..” His cheeks were burning and his eyes were closed. He already felt a knot in his stomach with just the gentle touches he’d been given.

“‘But’ what, Baby boy, hmm? Do you want more?” Stephen nodded again, making Y/n smirk. “Do you want to know what it feels like to be inside me?”

“Y-yes, please.” Stephen stood from the chair, shaking off the extremely loose pants and pulling his boxers along with then, his member springing out and bobbing in Y/n’s face. She gucked at his size before grabbing his cock, continuing her slow strokes and kissing the tip. She licked the precum from her lips and hummed in awe at his taste.

“Are you sure you want this, Steve. Your first time is supposed to be special.” She smirked. She was looking up at him, licking the tip this time; Stephen couldn’t help but buck forward at the new, wet sensation.

“How much more special can it get?” He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was a virgin anymore, or he’d at least never had a blowjob before.

Y/n smiled, never taking her eyes off his as she took his tip into her mouth, sucking lightly but just enough for a groan to fall from his lips. He couldn’t help it when his hips bucked forward, begging her to take him deeper. She didn’t mind though, taking him as deep as he desired. Everytime he thrusted to the back of her throat, she gagged, making him thrust even harder.

“You like it when I choke on your dick?”

“Y-yes, fuck- feels so good, Ma’am.”

Y/n pulls herself from him and ties her hair back in a messy ponytail. When she lines herself back up with his member, she takes his hand and intertwines his fingers into her hair.

“Do your worst.” She says and winks before taking him back into her mouth.

Stephen wastes no time, pushing her down as far as she can take it, audibly gagging around him. Y/n feels the sting of eyes swelling in her eyes but she said nothing. She liked the feeling of Stephen fucking her mouth, stretching her throat and making her drool.

Once Stephen had gotten her to the point where she could take him all the way in, he held her there. He could feel her throat rejecting him as it regurgitated around him, squeezing him tighter and tighter before he’d pull out.

Y/n gasped and coughed when he released her, taking the drool from her chin to pump him in her hand, giving her throat a little break before he repeated the action. He grabbed at the sides of her face, pumping himself in and out of her mouth viciously, then burying himself in her throat once again. He continued doing this.

Tears streamed down her face with her mascara. Her lipstick was smeared around her lips and around his cock, making him a nice cherry red color, even with the pulsing redness of its own accord. Honestly, if she minded, she’d take control. She’d have him fuck her up against her desk if she wanted, which she did of course, but she was having fun with this. She liked watching Stephen feel in charge, making her mouth his own and fucking it raw.

After he’d held her to him the last time, she could feel his thrusts become sloppy and weak, meaning he was close.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” She asked, replacing her mouth with her hand.

“Yes. Yes- fuck, I’m so close. Use- use your mouth, please.” Stephen whimpered and moaned as his climax finally hit, fucking her mouth hard while his thighs shook from his release. Y/n savored every last drop of his cum, swallowing it down like water. His hips stuttered a few more thrusts before he pulled out and collapsed in the chair behind him.

“Fuck.” He said, breathlessly.

“Hmm.. you’re telling me.” Y/n giggled, wiping the drool from her chin and licking her lips, already missing his taste.

Stephen’s head lolled to the side as he watched her compose and clean herself up. “So, You’re not mad at me?” They both giggled, Y/n made it to her feet and leaned over him in the chair. She placed a light kiss to his lips. She bit her lip, holding back a moan from just staring into his warm blue eyes.

“That depends on if you’re going to be a good boy for me.” She smirks and kisses him again before they continue with their own version of an office party.

And Stephen was a very very good boy.

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