#when she turns out longer than you expected ooP
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thef1diary · 25 days ago
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team principal!carlos fucking the reader to sleep !!! she’s tried everything but can’t seem to go to bed 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
— a classic sleep aid, I love this! Also this turned out to be less of a drabble and more of a fic (1.6k words) oops 🤭 18+ content below
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You stared at the clock on the nightstand, the numbers taunting you with every passing minute. The hotel bed that was once comfortable and took you to the depths of sleep within minutes now brought sudden aches in your body with every turn. Tomorrow’s race loomed over you like a storm cloud, and the harder you tried to relax, the tighter the knot in your chest became.
Your fingers hovered over your phone screen, and you hesitated for a moment longer before shaking your head and finally giving in. Dialing Carlos felt like a last resort, one you almost regretted as soon as the first ring echoed in your ear, but his voice had always been your anchor.
“Qué pasa, nena?” he answered on the second ring, his voice rough with sleep.
“I can’t sleep,” you confessed, your words a rushed whisper as if it was childish to say out loud. “I’m so nervous and worried about tomorrow.”
You half-expected him to stay on the phone, offering reassurance and calm words to lull you into sleep. Instead there was a soft rustle, and then:
“Open the door.”
“What?” you asked, startled.
“I’m here,” he said, and before you could process his words, there was a knock at your door.
You scrambled out of bed, opening it to find him standing there, dressed in sweatpants and a plain t-shirt—seemingly tossed on in a rush—with his hair adorably tousled from sleep. His dark eyes were warm, concerned, and he glanced at the hallway before stepping inside, immediately cupping your cheek.
“You should’ve called me sooner,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Didn’t want to disturb you, sir,” you replied, and he lightly chuckled, shaking his head. “For you, princesa, it’s not a disturbance.”
Heat creeped up your cheeks as you turned around, climbing back into bed and he followed without hesitation, pulling you into his arms as he settled behind you. His body molded perfectly to yours, his warmth slowly chasing away the chill of your anxiety.
He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his voice low and soothing. “You’ve done everything right this weekend, mi amor, you just need to trust yourself.”
His hand rubbed gentle circles on your hip, his touch grounding, comforting. But even as his words melted some of the tension, your body remained taut against his, your mind refusing to quiet down.
“Still no?” he asked softly, sensing your lingering unease.
You shook your head, refusing to turn around to face him as frustration welled up in your chest. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Carlos. I just—”
“Nothing’s wrong with you. It’s okay,” he interrupted, almost surprised at the way you spoke about yourself. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, murmuring against your skin softly, “turn around.”
You hesitated, but his voice was firm yet soothing, coaxing you into trust. Slowly, you turned in his arms, your eyes meeting his in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. His gaze softened as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your flushed skin.
“You’re too hard on yourself, princesa,” he whispered, his lips just a breath away. “You’re the best driver on the grid. No one works harder than you. And you don’t have to carry this weight alone.”
Your lip quivered, the self-doubt threatening to spill over, but Carlos silenced your protests with a kiss. It was soft and reassuring at first, but when you melted into him, he deepened it, his tongue slipping past your lips to claim you fully. His hand slid down your hip, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between your bodies.
“You’ve been overthinking all night,” he murmured against your mouth. “Let me quiet your mind, nena.”
When you nodded, his hand slid under your shirt, fingertips brushing your bare skin. The cool air of the room kissed your torso as he pushed the fabric up, exposing you to him. His lips travelled down your neck, trailing fire across your skin before latching onto one of your nipples, rolling it between his lips and teeth while his hand teased the other.
A soft whimper escaped you as he worked you up, his ministrations both careful and consuming. His free hand wandered lower, sliding beneath the waistband of your panties, and further still to press against your pussy.
“Sir…” you breathed, but he silenced you with a firm press of his fingers against your clit.
“You’re so tense,” he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with quiet determination. “Relax for me, mi princesa. Let me take care of you.”
Carlos was both gentle and commanding, his touch a perfect balance of softness and control. He was careful with you, mindful of your upcoming race, yet there was a rough edge to his movements—a desperation to erase every ounce of tension from your body.
He settled between your legs, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, his hands gently spreading you open and pulling your panties to the side. “I’ll be careful,” he promised, his lips brushing against your pussy. “But I’m not stopping until you’re too tired to think.”
The first swipe of his tongue made you gasp, your hands fisting the sheets as he worked you over with slow, deliberate strokes. Carlos knew your body better than anyone, and he used that knowledge to his advantage, alternating between gentle flicks and firm pressure that had your hips bucking against his mouth.
Each flick, each press of his tongue against your clit sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, your breaths turning into soft, breathy moans that only encouraged him further.
“Carlos,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as the tension in your body coiled tighter.
He hummed against you, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat through your core. “That’s it, nena,” he murmured, pausing to press a kiss to your inner thigh. “You’re so sweet and wet for me.”
Carlos kissed his way back up your body, his lips soft and warm against your flushed skin. He reached down, tugging your panties off and tossing them aside before shedding his own clothes in one fluid motion. His body was warm and solid against yours as he positioned himself above you, his hand stroking gently along your thigh.
His dark eyes searched yours for any signs of hesitation, but instead, you muttered a plea, urging him to fuck you.
Carlos guided his cock to your folds, his gaze never leaving yours as he slowly pushed in. The stretch was delicious, his size filling you completely as he moved with deliberate care, giving you more time to adjust than usual.
“Perfect,” he rasped, his voice strained as he fought to keep his composure. “You feel so perfect, nena.”
He set a slow, sensual rhythm, each thrust deep and unhurried, his movements designed to draw out every ounce of pleasure. His hands roamed your body, caressing your hips, your waist, your tits, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.
Your body responded instinctively, meeting his movements with your own as the two of you found a rhythm that was unhurried yet all-consuming. The room was filled with the soft sounds of your breaths and the gentle creak of the bed, your thoughts and the world outside fading into nothingness as Carlos focused solely on you.
He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was equal parts tender and possessive, his tongue sweeping into your mouth as his hips rocked against yours. The connection between you was electric, every touch, every kiss, every thrust designed to remind you of his love and devotion to you, to your career.
You felt yourself reach the edge slowly, the heat pooling low in your belly as Carlos kept his pace steady, his thrusts deep and deliberate. You moaned against his lips, tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging gently as he slowly coaxed out the energy within you.
“Please,” you gasped as you pulled back, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own labored breaths and skin slapping against skin.
“Go on, make a mess,” he murmured, his breath grazing the shell of your ear. Your only response was a moan, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. Carlos groaned at the motion, his rhythm faltering for a moment before he picked up the pace, his thrusts growing deeper and more deliberate.
He set a punishing rhythm, his hands gripping your hips as he buried himself in you over and over. The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, your soft cries mixing with his low groans. Your nails raked down his back, and he hissed at the sensation, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release.
Your body trembled as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak, and he whispered again, “now let go, cum for me, nena.”
With his words, you came with a cry that echoed through the room, your body arching off the bed as waves of ecstasy washed over you. He followed soon after, his release spilling into you as he buried himself to the hilt.
Carlos collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as he caught his breath. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple.
“Better?” he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
You nodded, whispering a “thank you,” as your eyes fluttered shut as the tension that had gripped you all night melted away. Carlos held you close, his warmth and presence grounding you as sleep finally began to take over.
“Sweet dreams, mi amor,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead as he settled beside you, his breathing evening out as sleep claimed him too.
want more team principal!carlos? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days
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mossangelll · 2 months ago
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Dress Me like Your French Girls
yandere!caitlyn x reader x yandere!jinx requested by anon!
took me longer than i would’ve liked (with many tense mistakes included oops) but i hope you can enjoy! i took a lot of liberties with this request and kinda ran with it ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
tw: kidnapping, violence, controlling behaviour, objectification
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Bedsheets made of prussian blue silk and white lace borders, floor to ceiling windows that looked out to the great expanse of the gardens, even fresh flowers set on your vanity each morning without fail - all before you even had the chance to rub sleep from your eyes. You knew the beauty that surrounded you was merely a mirage, something to distract you from opening your eyes to its harsh reality. You may be a nobody from Zaun but you’re no fool; you could see the minute you stepped foot in this place you that it was just a prison, even if it had a crystal chandelier.
Today, you’re sat at your walnut desk reading the book Caitlyn - no, Cait, got for you.
It was something about flowers you couldn’t care less about but you know when Caitlyn comes to see you for the evening, she’ll expect to hear all about your riveting day, including your thoughts on the book she gifted to you. Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you turn the page with a gloved hand, but the words and diagrams blur together into a puddle of ink you can’t decipher. Well, as long as you could recount a handful of trite facts she should be satisfied.
After all, she mentioned a special gift that you would both enjoy, that is what her focus will be on for most of the evening.
Your eyes flicker to the wardrobe stuffed to the brim with expensive, custom-made garments that looms over you and you find your mind turns to static in an attempt to block out all the intrusive memories you’d rather lose to the abyss of time, even if you know that you will never be able to cut away Cait’s lasting scars.
She will always intertwined in your life as much as you are hers.
Whenever she brings one of these “gifts” to your room, you know what to expect. It’s never anything sordid - oh, Cait could never do anything as debased as what those cruel animals do. Ever the pinnacle of Kiramman self-control, or as you like to call it - repression. But still, when she’s done, her tongue darts out to lick her lips, her face blooms with all the effort of her rapidly beating heart and she has the demeanour of a woman starved, she simply…retracts into herself as if the inferno burning deep inside of her isn’t roaring to be let out and engulf everything it touches.
It starts with Cait slipping into your room at night with a heavy sigh, head leaning against the ornate doors and fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turn bone white.
The light from the chandelier is dimmed, casting dark shadows to contrast her silhouette and pronounce the weariness of her face, and yet she manages to have not a single hair out of place much to your ever-growing chagrin.
Then, she ambles over to where you’re sat, each tap of her heeled boots in sync with the pounding of your heart, making her own attempt at casual conversation (that somehow always manages to come off as strained, like she has to force the words out from her throat) about your day as if any of this was normal, as if you actually had free will and the ability to make your own choices, not just the the illusion of it all. But that was what Cait was best at, keeping up illusions no matter how cracked and faded they become.
She guides you with hands tight on your shoulders to sit at the ornate vanity, a hand moving to the middle of your back to force it ramrod straight, so she can brush your hair with a featherlight touch from the crown of your head to the tangled ends. Back before you had her rules ingrained into the every other fibre of your being, you told her that you’re not some porcelain doll that could break at the smallest touch but all you get in return was the hardened stare you’d come to know well in the reflection of the mirror - you don’t speak unless spoken to. Always.
She starts to get you ready for bed, ever so slightly calloused hands wiping away the day’s makeup. It felt wrong to see her, sole heir to the House of Kiramman, act so subservient just for you. It was an unnatural upheaval of the entire hierarchy that dictated your life until this point and it never fails to make your head spin with its taboo intoxication.
She saves the part you dread the most for last, and no matter how many times you went through the same monotonous routine, you still felt uneasy every time the clock’s chime rang through the halls closer and closer to her arrival.
Cait ensured she was the only one to undress you from whatever restrictive clothes she had forced upon you in the morning. No maids could be trusted to be anywhere near you, let alone get to see you in such a revealing state. That was reserved for her eyes only.
Graceful fingers weave between the laces of your corset, unravelling the thread at a snail’s pace. Sometimes, though she would vehemently deny the accusation with great fervour, she would yank at the corset strings just a tad too tight, fingers flexing at your waist to calm herself when she felt your hands grasp at her forearms in an attempt to stabilise yourself. You knew just as well as she that she got a sick thrill from how much you needed her.
The corset is soon discarded alongside the rest of your clothing and she traces the curve of your spine, goose bumps rising on your skin like hackles, before choosing your nightgown for the evening from the very wardrobe you despised with each ounce of your body.
She would get you to lift up your arms and have you to stand in the gauzy fabric as she pulls it up your body, not even giving you the chance to huddle in on yourself.
She makes you twirl for her in the centre of the room and her eyes glow in delight as the skirt of your dress fans out and rises before gently falling back down, so close to being indecent but just able to keep from toeing the line she drew. You wonder if the moonlight can penetrate through the thin dresses and illuminate each and every part of you, even the parts you’d rather remain unseen, and if that’s why she makes you do all this, even if she’d never admit it.
She sits you down on your plush footboard and kneels at your feet, blue eyes staring up at you with restrained wonderment. Humming in satisfaction, her hands slowly, painstakingly slowly, push the sheer fabric of your nightgown higher up your legs until you feel the need to cover yourself from her piercing gaze.
Her fingers hook into the tops of your stockings and all you want to do is cross your legs, shove her thin frame away and say no, no, no!
But you know Cait has no patience for that kind of attitude - especially not from you. So you stare down at her, hair free and untamed, and allow her to tug the stockings down your legs, your shaking hands clutching the sturdy underside of the footboard.
She tends to stall at this point, hands instead choosing to lightly stroke and swirl patterns on the doughy flesh of your thighs. Your chest heaves even more than it did before and far beyond what should be humanly possible and you find it hard to understand exactly what is going through her mind at that moment.
Cait wears her heart on her sleeve and though you ache to use that against her, it’s still so hard to pick apart her actions that it leaves your head spinning with the commotion of it all.
Time passes slowly in the still of your room as she inches closer to you, almost imperceptibly, until her head lays on your kneecap so softly you wouldn’t even know she was there if not for the light tickle of her hair.
Her lips leave paper-light kisses on your skin as she mumbles you through the intricacies of her day, things you could never even begin to understand, but you can tell how much it means to her just to be sat with you - the enforcers, her critical mother, every single expectation that is forced upon her shoulders, it all fades into the background as the frown on her face slowly dissipates.
Once she’s content she continues pulling off your stockings until they lie in a crumpled pile on the carpet next to her. You don’t know what she does with the stockings but you never see them again, another of Cait’s great mysteries.
Such an intimate routine that you know is unnervingly chaste. No lingering touches or stolen kisses you can’t object to, it never goes beyond that point and somehow that makes it so much worse because you spend your days in wait for a day that you know will come eventually - you just don’t know when.
She leads you to your grand, four poster bed and tucks you in with such an overwhelming amount of love just oozing from her pores that a part of you almost wishes this was ok, that you met her under normal circumstances and that you actually loved her.
“Beautiful.” she sighs without fail every time she’s done getting you ready, stroking your hair in an attempt to get you to sleep. Though you’re never quite sure if she’s talking about you or her creation.
You slip out of your trance and look at the golden hands on the clock you swore had gone forwards despite no time passing at all. You’re still on the same page you were ten minutes ago - shit.
The curtains were drawn, letting in rays of light that hit the crystal chandelier. You would’ve found the whole affair to be beautiful if it wasn’t for the fact that the light refracted directly into eyes - you had to work hard to resist the urge to squint your eyes or blink.
Caitlyn- fuck, Cait! You feel the urge to rip your hair out at each stumble and mistake. You could never trip up like this in front of her, not if you wanted to steer well clear of her punishments.
Cait doesn’t like to see you make ugly faces or anything even remotely human, “Such… crude expressions don’t suit your face, darling.” She said in that soft tone of hers but the words would be dripping in derision.
Her hand would ghost the side of your face, so close to touching you that you could feel the warmth radiate from her but then she pulls away like she was being held back by some invisible force. But, to your surprise, she pushes through the internal conflicts that raged within her and her hand would return to grace the side of your face and trace from your brow bone down to the apples of your cheeks which she would gently cup, the other hand going to smooth out the lines and tension that marred your forehead before letting out a small, “All better.”
It’s hard to remember what life was like before Caitlyn sunk her claws into you, before you stopped being human and simply became her toy. You don’t know how she managed to take you - all you know is from the loving declarations she whispered in the dead of night about how she would stop at nothing until she got you - as if you would swoon. All you felt was sick to your core.
Click. Click. Click.
You hear footsteps just outside your door and freeze - why is she here so early? You hurry to your assigned place and assume doll-like role Cait expects from you. You can hear fumbling at the lock and the door handle jangling from the force of her hand. Today must have been rough on her which means your evening ritual will last longer than usual. Bile rises up your throat at the thought but you school your features into the perfect mask of neutrality. There, you think, all perfect for Cait.
So you find yourself surprised when instead of Caitlyn in her all-consuming haughtiness, a false pretence you saw through long ago, you see a woman with long blue braids and a ferocious smile stalking towards you without a care in the world.
How did she get past the guards?
“Lookie here, you’re the hidden treasure our fair lady has been keeping hush about. My intel didn’t tell me it’d be so…delicate.” She swung her head back to bark out a sharp laugh as a manicured hand twirled a graffitied gun around her finger. Still, when her laughter stops, she stares at you with a look you can’t decipher, something…darker swirling in her dilated eyes. Something you’re certain you’ve only ever seen in Cait’s eyes.
“Not like she’s doin’ a good job.” She speaks off to the side in a lazy, condescending drawl, a hand covering her mouth, and you search the room for the invisible audience. What is going on? Who is she?
Suddenly, the lithe intruder jumps to your place at the desk, slinging her arm around your shoulders in such a familiar way you can’t help but feel flustered.
“Hiya, toots. I’m Jinx and you are…?” She waggles her hand in your face before trailing off in wait of an answer but you keep your eyes trained in front of you. Not a single movement betrays you.
You can tell this upsets her as the conspiring look on her face quickly turns sour - she’s not used to being ignored.
She swings herself around with surprising dexterity and lands in your lap before you can even process what’s going on - she’s so close you can feel each puff of air leave her nose and hit your face in short bursts.
At this distance, you can notice every little detail that marks her face. The skin surrounding her pink eyes streaked with dark, branch-like veins. Her gap tooth and dark purple lipstick that stained her plump lips. The soft curve of her rounded cheeks and the misbehaving strand of cerulean hair that escapes the confines of her long braids. She smells like gunpowder, sweat and a hint of the cloying sweetness that could only be from artificial sugar. Her clothes are tattered but full of life and personality with each spot she had sloppily sewn back together herself - most importantly, she was everything Cait wasn’t. A welcome breath of fresh air in your own, albeit unnecessary, opinion.
Her cold hands poke at your cheeks in a childlike manner, indignation bubbling up inside of you and so close to bursting out. Why did everyone treat you like an object to be observed and played with?
“You are a real person, right?” The intruder squishes your cheeks together, staring into your eyes with rising suspicion. What kind of question even was that?!
You want to fidget and squirm, desperate to get away from whoever this Jinx is but the cautious voice in your head stops you, what if this was a test from Cait? To see if you would remain loyal to her? To see if you would stick to her rules no matter what?
But she claps her hand with a resounding crack that echoes throughout the room, maybe even the entire wing of the manor judging by how the birds outside took off, and your whole body jumps in shock completely abandoning your desire to remain as still as Cait would expect of you.
“Hah! Caught you! I knew you were real!” She jumps up from your lap and fist pumps the air. She seems so proud of herself for finally eliciting a reaction out of you that you decide it must be ok to test the waters and figure out exactly what is happening here.
“W-who are you and what are you doing in my room?” Your voice is low from disuse but it still manages to catch her attention away from her victory dance.
Her pink eyes wander over your doll-like figure, so unnaturally stiff and composed. It was as if you were posed and left to rot away in your dollhouse until your owner came to play with you again.
“I think I know how ya’ feel, all alone like this. You wanna be happy, tell me I’m wrong.” She shrugs with an air of indifference, but she’s anything but. The cogs have started turning in her head and set into motion a plan she can’t resist despite the immorality of it all. A plan where she saves you from this place so you can be happy - with her. Then again, when has she cared about morals?
Tremors ripple through your body and you gulp, not knowing where to look or what to think. You won’t give in to her downright cruel line of questioning, no matter how much you want to scream out that you were kidnapped and you just want to go home.
“I have no idea what you mean.” You decide to settle on instead, turning your back at the only chance of freedom you had.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong - I mean look at you. You’re dressed up like a stupid Piltie and you’re telling me you can make your own decisions?” Her hand gestures to your get-up and you look down at yourself in shame, face feeling hot and your limbs shaking, “Pfft, and here I thought I was the liar.” She shakes her head in derision.
“I’m about to do you a favour, toots.” Her arm reaches to hold onto the back of your chair, blocking off any path of escape, and she stares dead into your eyes and you can’t help but startle at how cold they are, not even a speck of warmth hiding beneath the surface. She slinks off to stand behind you where you’re unable to figure out what move she’ll try to pull next.
Before you can start to question what she meant, a sharp pain hits you in the base of your skull.
Flashes of colour swim in your vision and the sudden urge to throw up overcomes you before you lose control of your body, slumping over from your seated position and hitting the floor before everything fades to black.
masterlist
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bugiseverywhere · 6 months ago
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quirkless au katsuki bakugo, who’s fresh out of college and meets you for the first time, hanging out with his idiot friends who didn’t introduce the two of you sooner.
(This turned out way longer than expected. Oops)
August is already right around the corner. The streets are beginning to fill up as it seems everyone’s preparing for the school season. The sun beating down on everything, illuminating the streets he’s walking down.
“Mina just texted, said everyone’s there. Wanna stop here and get something to drink before we head to her place?” Katsuki nodded and followed kirishima who was already opening the door to some local coffee shop katsuki never really remembered the name of.
Him and kirishima have spent, what seems like, the whole summer together. Not that katsuki had a choice in it. Both agreeing to rent an apartment after graduating. Kiri protesting it was the cheaper route for them both, and that he needed the company. Katsuki didn’t mind it at the time, but the more his roommate and friends dragged him around the city, the more he wished he would’ve just moved back home with his old hag.
an hour ago:
“C’mon bro, you can’t keep trying to hide in the apartment all summer.”
“I already said I’m not in the fucking mood to babysit you guys. Go without me.” katsuki retorts as he throws himself on the couch. He tried to ignore the phone calls from kaminari, sero, and mina, but it was hard to ignore kirishima when he can just show up whenever he pleases.
“It’ll be fun man! And you won’t have to babysit us. It’s just a cookout at Mina’s, nothing bad, I swear!” kirishima slams the door shut behind him pointing at katsuki who was trying his hardest to avoid the conversation, “Seriously I’m not leaving until you agree to go. I already let you get out of the last time!”
“Whatever.”
end of flashback.
After he finished being bombarded by everyone (mostly Mina who was pissed he ignored her 7 missed phone calls and 20 unanswered text messages) katsuki had settled himself in the kitchen of Mina’s lake house.
Often throughout high school, the group would find themselves spending weekends/holidays out at this place. Mina’s parents used to live in the house during the summer seasons to get away from the city, but in the groups first year of college, it was given to Mina to do whatever she pleased with.
Unlike the hustle and bustle the city, katsuki didn’t mind the quiet atmosphere out here and always enjoyed when the group would get together and hang out. Even if it did drive him absolutely insane sometimes.
The sun was already setting by the time he and kirishima arrived. Everyone inside helping mina get the food ready.
Except for you.
Katsuki hadn’t seen you before. No one said anything about someone else being here. Were you with Sero? Maybe Kaminari, but last katsuki checked him and jirou were still together?
“Y/n. She’s a friend from one of my classes last year. I tried to tell you she would be here but you decided to ignore my phone calls.” Katsuki shifted his gaze from you to Mina who was staring at him with attitude.
“why’s she sittin out there by herself? She weird or something?”
“Nah. She just probably doesn’t want to listen to everyone. She’s kind of like you in way. Gets annoyed easily. Especially by these two morons.” Mina repsponded as she smacked Denki and Sero on the hands as they were trying to sneak pieces of food she was cutting up for dinner.
Katsuki hummed in response as he looked back in your direction. He wondered if he’s ever crossed paths with you before. He must’ve at somepoint right? Not that it really mattered.
As Mina finished prepping the food, katsuki left the kitchen and found himself in the living room lost to a conversation kiri, sero and denki were having. During this time he must’ve not noticed you move in the living room until sero chirped out, “hey she’s finally not pissed at us kaminari!”
The comment making you giggle softly as you made your way to sit next to the two. “You guys make my ears want to bleed. I just needed to not hear you two talk for a bit.” Your eyes moved from them and glanced in katsuki’s direction.
His heart skipped a beat when you smiled and opened your mouth to introduce yourself to him. what the fuck-
“You’re bakugo right? Mina’s talked about you a bit. It’s nice to meet you finally.” You were beautiful. Katsuki found himself lost for words, which wasn’t particularly normal for him. All he could get out was a,
“Uh- Yeah.” Just as he was about to try and say something else, Mina shouted that the food was ready. You, denki, and sero, made your ways to the kitchen, working through the food. Katsuki stayed in his seat on the couch watching you talk and laugh at the boys and mina.
You must’ve met them all before.
How come they never said anything about you sooner?
Why does he care this much, he just met you.
“Mina introduced us to her about a month ago. Y’know, the last time you decided to not hang out with us” kirishima stared at katsuki with a half assed smile on his face.
“Why is everyone being such a prick about that. I didn’t feel like coming out here. Besides no one told me Mina was gonna bring her.” Kirishima laughed at katsuki as he stood up from the couch, looking down at the blonde,
“I don’t know man, seems to me you’re just pissed you didn’t meet her sooner.” Katsuki rolled his eyes, kicking kirishima in the shin. His eyes shifted back to you and met your gaze which was already staring at him.
Little did katsuki know, you just finished fighting with Mina about how she didn’t tell you her hot friend from college was going to be here tonight.
God, you could just kill her, and so could katsuki.
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I did not proofread this so I apologize in advance if it is horrible. I just needed to get it out of my head. 🙏
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reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago
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Oops: Wrong Person
Summary: Spencer and you share a steamy night together, but when you go to spill the details to Emily, you accidentally send the text to the person of interest... will Spencer see it before you can fix things?
Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader
Category: smut (18+), fluff
Warnings/Includes: NSFW (18+) additional warnings under the cut, alcohol consumption, talks of hangover, mention of a gun, sending text to wrong person, happy ending
Word count: 7.2k
a/n: shout out to @imagining-in-the-margins for pulling me out of my writers slump with their wrong recipient challenge !!! not proofread :/
prompts used: Character sends their friend a detailed review of their recent sexual encounter… and accidentally sends it to the person they’re reviewing
Character enlists Penelope’s help in hacking into someone’s device to delete an unintended message
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Additional warnings: allusions to sex, oral (fem receiving)
The evening began innocently enough—just another night out with the team, exchanging stories and letting Penelope’s latest matchmaking attempts provide ample fodder for laughter. You and Spencer had been particularly unlucky in love lately, both of you enduring one disastrous date after another. Penelope had insisted she had "the perfect person" for each of you, but after a string of ill-suited setups, neither of you were optimistic. It was that shared frustration that had the two of you lingering over drinks a little longer than usual, swapping stories of cringe-worthy encounters and commiserating over your shared loneliness.
The conversation flowed more easily as the alcohol loosened your tongues, and you found yourselves laughing more, teasing less, and unearthing unexpected commonalities. Spencer wasn’t just the brilliant, socially awkward genius you’d always known—there was warmth, wit, and a surprising sense of humor that made you start to see him in a different light. For his part, Spencer found himself captivated by the way your eyes lit up as you recounted your tales, his usual nervousness fading as he grew more comfortable in your presence.
When the team decided to call it a night, Spencer insisted on walking you home. "You shouldn’t be out alone this late," he said, his tone firm but his gaze soft. The cool night air sobered you both slightly, but the buzz of the evening lingered as you strolled side by side. When you reached your front door, you turned to thank him, but Spencer hesitated. There was a moment—a pause filled with unspoken words—before he asked, almost shyly, "Can I kiss you?"
The question caught you off guard, but the answer came easily. “Yes,” you whispered, and the next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, tentative at first but quickly deepening with urgency. The kiss ignited something you hadn’t expected, and before long, the two of you were tangled in your sheets, surrendering to the pull of the moment.
But now, as the morning light crept through the blinds, unwelcome and far too bright for how your head pounded and your stomach churned. The first thing you registered was warmth—Spencer’s arm draped over your waist, his face tucked into the pillow mere inches from yours. His soft breaths were the only sound in the room, aside from the dull hum of the city outside.
Your heart thudded painfully in your chest as the reality of the night before came crashing down like an avalanche. You squeezed your eyes shut, wishing, hoping, that somehow, this was a vivid dream. But the ache in your muscles and the tangling of limbs beneath the sheets told you otherwise.
How had it come to this? You’d both sworn off dating for a while after Penelope’s well-meaning but disastrous matchmaking attempts, bonding over how exhausting it was to keep picking yourselves up after failure. You’d laughed, drank more than you should have, and for the first time, Spencer wasn’t just your quirky, brilliant colleague—he was just a man. A man with soft brown eyes, a boyish smile, and the kind of awkward charm that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, someone understood.
And then he’d walked you home. You had both hesitated on your doorstep, the air thick with unspoken words and the lingering spark of a night full of confessions. Spencer had looked at you, his cheeks flushed and his voice almost trembling as he asked if he could kiss you.
God, you’d wanted to say no. You should have said no. But the way he looked at you, with a vulnerability so raw and genuine, made it impossible. And when his lips met yours, all the doubts and hesitations had melted away. At least until now.
A quiet groan escaped your lips as you gingerly shifted away from his arm, careful not to wake him. You needed space—space to think, space to breathe. Tugging on a shirt discarded on the floor, you padded to the kitchen, leaning heavily against the counter as you stared blankly at the coffee maker.
This wasn’t just a mistake; it was a colossal, earth-shattering disaster. Spencer wasn’t just some random guy at a bar; he was your coworker, your teammate. You weren’t supposed to cross those lines, especially not in a way that could make things awkward for the entire team.
You pressed your palms into your eyes, willing away the threatening sting of tears. "What the hell were we thinking?" you muttered to yourself, though you already knew the answer. You were thinking about loneliness, about longing, about the fleeting comfort of being wanted. You were thinking about Spencer's warm smile and the way he looked at you like you were the most fascinating person in the world.
The sound of movement behind you snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. You turned to find Spencer standing in the doorway, his hair disheveled and his shirt haphazardly buttoned. He looked at you with a mixture of shyness and concern, clearly unsure of what to say.
"Good morning," he said softly, his voice cracking slightly.
You swallowed hard, forcing a tight smile. "Morning."
An awkward silence stretched between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Spencer shifted on his feet, glancing around the room before his eyes landed on you. "Are you okay?" he asked, his brow furrowing in that familiar, thoughtful way.
"Yeah," you lied quickly, your voice pitching just a little too high to be convincing.
Spencer’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head, scrutinizing you in that way only Spencer could—like he was dissecting every layer of your soul. “You’re lying,” he said simply, his tone matter-of-fact, devoid of judgment. “Do you regret last night?”
His words hit you harder than you expected. The vulnerability in his gaze—those soft, questioning hazel eyes—made your heart ache. You could feel the truth rising in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You couldn’t bear to hurt him, not after everything.
“I only regret drinking so much,” you said instead, forcing a weak smile and hoping it was enough. “I’m horribly hungover.”
For a moment, Spencer stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, to your immense relief, his lips quirked into a small, understanding smile, and he even chuckled softly. “Yeah, we might have overdone it a bit,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Are you making coffee?”
You nodded, grateful for the shift in focus. As the coffee brewed, the familiar aroma filling your small kitchen, the tension eased. You poured two mugs and handed one to Spencer, who took it with a quiet “thanks” and a smile. The two of you sat at your tiny dining table, sipping the hot brew and talking about the most recent case. It was like slipping back into the roles you knew, the professional partnership that felt safe and predictable.
When Spencer finally stood to leave, he hesitated by the door. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said softly, lingering for just a moment before stepping out into the morning sun.
As the door clicked shut behind him, the silence in your apartment felt deafening. You slumped into your chair, staring at the coffee cup he’d left behind. You’d managed to keep the lie intact, but it didn’t make the knot in your stomach feel any less tight. If anything, it made it worse.
Later that evening, unable to keep your thoughts to yourself, you grabbed your phone and fired off a text to Emily. She was your go-to for all the juicy details and unsolicited advice, and you desperately needed her take on the situation.
Em, you’ll never believe it… I slept with Spencer! And before you even ask, no, it was not good. He was so sweet and, honestly, really attractive, but it was like he was just there to smash and dash, I swear! There was no build-up, no foreplay, it was so boring. I swear the only reason I was even wet enough was how good he looked. Em, what do I do?
You stared at the message for a moment before pressing send, your heart pounding as you anticipated her reply. You knew Emily wouldn’t hold back, but that was exactly what you needed—someone to be brutally honest with you.
Setting your phone aside, you waited for the familiar buzz of her reply. But as the minutes ticked by, your attention started to drift. The weight of the day and the lingering tension from your morning with Spencer caught up with you, and before you knew it, you had dozed off on the couch.
When you woke early the next morning, the faint glow of your phone screen illuminated the room, the only light breaking through the predawn darkness. You groaned, rubbing one eye as you sat up, feeling the stiffness in your back from spending the night on the couch. Reaching for your phone, you squinted at the screen, ready to check if Emily had replied to your late-night text.
But when you opened your conversation with her, the message you so vividly remembered typing was nowhere to be found. Confused, you stared at the blank thread for a moment.
"That's weird," you muttered to yourself. "Maybe I just dreamed I sent it."
Shrugging it off, you stretched, wincing as the ache from your uncomfortable sleeping position made itself known. After a quick shower and a cup of coffee, you pushed the odd moment out of your mind, determined to start the day fresh.
Later that morning, as you walked into the bullpen at work, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The usual hum of activity filled the air—keyboards clicking, phones ringing, voices murmuring about cases. Spencer was already at his desk, his face buried in a file, and he didn’t look up as you passed by. If he was feeling awkward about that night, he didn’t show it.
You dropped your bag onto your desk and booted up your computer, feeling a flicker of relief that everything seemed normal. The morning carried on uneventfully—until Emily strolled over, her face unreadable, and perched casually on the edge of your desk.
"Hey," she said, her tone casual as ever. "Do anything interesting this weekend?"
The question made your stomach flip. For a brief, horrifying moment, you wondered if you had sent that text after all.
Your heart pounded as you leaned in closer to Emily, lowering your voice to a whisper so that Spencer, sitting just a few feet away, wouldn’t overhear. “Did you see my text? I could have sworn I sent one last night,” you asked, keeping your tone as casual as possible despite the rising panic in your chest.
Emily frowned slightly, pulling out her phone and scrolling through your thread. “No? What was it about?” she asked, holding her screen up as proof of her empty inbox.
The confusion on your face deepened as you promised to catch her up on your weekend later. “Never mind, it’s nothing,” you muttered, trying to sound nonchalant. But as she walked away, a gnawing sense of dread began to form in the pit of your stomach. Something felt off—terribly off.
Grabbing your phone, you scrolled through your messages, hoping, praying you’d simply forgotten to hit send or, at worst, sent it to someone like your parents or even Hotch. But when you finally found the message, your blood ran cold. There it was, the detailed, unfiltered account of your night with Spencer, sent—and the recipient was none other than Spencer Reid himself.
For a moment, the world seemed to tilt, and you couldn’t breathe. Your hands trembled as you stared at the screen, rereading the incriminating text over and over. You couldn’t even bring yourself to glance in Spencer’s direction, terrified he’d somehow know you’d realized your mistake.
Not knowing what else to do, you bolted from your desk and ran straight to Penelope’s office. You slammed the door shut behind you, startling her so badly that she let out a loud shriek.
“Y/N! What the heck, you scared me, girl!” she exclaimed, spinning around in her chair with wide eyes. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s going on?”
You barely managed to catch your breath as you blurted out the words. “Can you hack into Spencer’s phone?”
“What? Why?” she asked, her confusion giving way to intrigue.
“I sent him something he was never meant to see,” you said, your voice trembling.
Penelope’s expression lit up with gleeful curiosity, her hands clasping together in delight. “Oh my god! Drama!” she squealed. “Was it something saucy?” Her grin turned wicked, her eyes dancing with mischief.
“No, Pen, nothing like that…” you lied, though your face betrayed the truth. “Just—can you do it?”
“Only if you tell me why,” she sing-songed, leaning forward as if this were the best thing to happen to her all week.
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “It’s about Spencer, okay? I sent him a message I was venting to Emily about… and it’s—oh my god, Penelope, it’s bad.”
“How bad?” she pressed, practically vibrating in her seat.
You hesitated, your mind racing. “Like… it’s about bedroom activities, bad.”
Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “You and Boy Wonder?” she gasped, her voice rising in pitch. “No way! Tell me everything right now, and then I’ll consider saving your butt.”
So, you spilled it all, every mortifying detail of your ill-advised text and the lackluster night with Spencer. Penelope listened with wide eyes, her hand dramatically clutching her chest as though she were living through the mortification alongside you.
“Wait, wait, wait,” she interrupted at one point, holding up a finger. “Are you saying there was no foreplay? None at all? Oh, honey, that’s—oh no.” Her sympathy was so theatrical it almost made you laugh, but the weight of your predicament kept your stomach in knots.
You sighed, shaking your head. “I know, I know. It was just… disappointing. He was sweet, don’t get me wrong, but it felt so rushed, and then I panicked afterward, and now this. I just hope he hasn’t seen the text. I mean, he doesn’t check his phone often, right? Unless it’s a call or something urgent?”
Penelope tilted her head thoughtfully, tapping a glittery nail against her lips. “You’ve got a point there. Spencer isn’t exactly glued to his phone like the rest of us mere mortals. But if he has seen it…” She winced, letting the implication hang in the air.
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Penelope, please. I’ll never live this down. Can you help me? Just… I don’t know, tell him it was a new protocol or something if you have to.”
Penelope’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Oh, sweetie, you know I love a good cover story. I’ll just tell him we’re testing a new security system or a phone update procedure, and I need to check his device. It’ll buy us some time, at least.”
Relief flooded you, though it was tinged with lingering dread. “You’re a lifesaver, Pen. I owe you big time.”
“Oh, you’ll owe me,” she quipped, already pulling up the tools she needed on her computer. “Now go sit tight while Mama Bear fixes your mess.”
You gave her a weak smile and stepped out of her office, nerves still on edge as you tried to focus on anything but the potential fallout. All you could do now was hope Penelope worked her magic before Spencer’s curiosity—or worse, his notifications—got the better of him.
It had been a few weeks since that mortifying ordeal, and life at the BAU had returned to its usual rhythm. You and Spencer were working together like nothing had happened, the two of you exchanging case theories and research notes with the same easy professionalism as always. If he had seen the text, he certainly wasn’t acting like it.
You clung to that thought, reassuring yourself every time you caught him flipping through files or muttering stats under his breath. Spencer wasn’t one to hold back if something was bothering him—if he had read the text, you were sure he would’ve said something by now. Right?
Penelope had assured you she’d taken care of it, spinning some elaborate story about a security test or protocol update to gain access to his phone. “Smooth as butter,” she’d told you with a wink. You had to trust her; if anyone could cover their tracks, it was Penelope Garcia.
Still, there were moments when a flicker of doubt would creep in, especially when you caught Spencer looking at you for a beat too long or when his smile seemed softer than usual. You wondered if he was just being his sweet, considerate self, or if there was some small part of him that knew.
“Hey,” Spencer’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. He was standing next to your desk, holding out a file. “I thought you might want to take a look at this. It’s related to the unsub’s timeline.”
“Oh, thanks,” you said quickly, accepting the file and forcing a smile. Your hands brushed briefly, and though the touch was fleeting, it sent a small jolt through you. You cleared your throat, trying to push the memory of that night further down into the recesses of your mind.
As he walked back to his desk, you let out a slow breath of relief. He was acting normal—maybe even too normal—but you decided to take it as a win. If he hadn’t mentioned anything by now, it probably meant Penelope had pulled off her mission flawlessly.
You could finally move forward, pretending nothing had ever happened. At least, that’s what you told yourself.
The team had gathered at the bar once again, and the night was well underway. Laughter filled the air as Penelope and Emily, true to their roles as the team’s biggest shit-stirrers, steered the conversation toward bad hookup stories. One by one, everyone chimed in with their own tales—some embarrassing, others outright hilarious. Even Hotch and Rossi surprised everyone by sharing anecdotes, their typically reserved facades melting away under the influence of camaraderie and alcohol.
You, however, stayed silent, staring intently at your soda and purposefully avoiding Spencer’s gaze. The thought of contributing to the topic sent waves of panic through you. Spencer, sipping his lemonade, seemed just as disinterested in alcohol as you were—although, unlike you, he appeared perfectly calm.
Emily, catching your silence and sensing an opportunity, smirked over the rim of her whiskey glass. “Y/N…” she began, dragging out your name in a voice that instantly made your stomach drop. “What about you? Any bad hookups recently?”
Your eyes widened, and the sip of soda you’d just taken went down the wrong way. You coughed violently, waving a hand to reassure everyone you were fine, even as your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. “H-hmm? No,” you managed to croak out, your voice high and strained. “Not, um, not too recently.”
Emily raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as if she could see right through you. “Not too recently?” she repeated, clearly fishing for more. “That’s a very specific answer, don’t you think?”
Penelope leaned in, her knowing grin rattling you further. “Oh, come on, Y/N! Spill it! We’ve all shared—you’re not getting out of this that easily.”
You opened your mouth, scrambling for something—anything—to say that wouldn’t give away the truth. But before you could stammer out a reply, Spencer spoke up, his tone light but pointed.
“Maybe we should let Y/N off the hook,” he said, his eyes briefly meeting yours before flicking back to his glass. “Not everyone wants to relive their awkward, or boring, moments.”
Your breath hitched, and time seemed to slow. Spencer’s words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been.
"Not everyone wants to relive their awkward, or boring, moments."
The word boring hit you like a brick to the chest, your mind immediately flashing back to the mortifying text you’d mistakenly sent to him weeks ago. Boring. The exact word you’d used to describe your night with him.
Your heart raced as you tried to process what this could mean. Had he seen the text? Was he throwing subtle jabs at you now, letting you know in his own understated way that he was aware of what you’d said? Or—your stomach churned—was this just a terrible coincidence?
You froze, your fingers gripping the edge of your glass as though it were the only thing keeping you grounded. Your face felt hot, and your mind scrambled for something to say, but your voice wouldn’t cooperate. All you could do was glance at him, hoping to read something in his expression, but Spencer didn’t look back at you. Instead, he sipped his lemonade nonchalantly, his face giving nothing away except perhaps the faintest flicker of amusement.
Penelope, blissfully aware of the tension now coursing through you, laughed and waved him off. “Oh, come on, Spencer. You’ve gotta admit, the awkward ones make for the best stories!”
Spencer smiled faintly but didn’t reply, his eyes fixed on the table. You, on the other hand, felt like you were going to combust. Every second stretched painfully as you tried to decipher his intent. Did he know? Had he been holding this over you all this time? If he did know, why hadn’t he said anything? And why bring it up now?
You decided you couldn’t sit there any longer. “Excuse me,” you muttered hastily, standing up and heading toward the bathroom. You needed a moment—just a moment—to breathe and figure out what the hell was happening.
Once inside, you leaned against the sink, gripping the counter as you stared at your reflection. He knows. He definitely knows, you thought, replaying his words over and over in your mind.
But what did that mean for the two of you now? And, more terrifyingly, what was he going to do about it?
When you returned to the table, you were relieved to find that the group had shifted away from the awkward topic of hookups. Instead, they were now swapping stories about their most embarrassing encounters with local law enforcement during cases. The laughter was infectious, and you felt some of the tension ease from your shoulders as you slid back into your seat.
Emily was in the middle of reenacting a particularly mortifying moment where she’d accidentally walked into the wrong briefing room during a case, only to realize it was a police academy class in session. Penelope nearly fell off her chair laughing, and even Hotch cracked a rare smile. You joined in the laughter, grateful for the distraction and the chance to blend back into the group unnoticed.
But even as you laughed, you couldn’t shake the awareness of Spencer’s gaze. It wasn’t obvious, not enough for anyone else to notice, but you felt it—the way his eyes lingered on you a second too long, the way he watched you out of the corner of his vision.
You tried to brush it off as paranoia, convincing yourself you were imagining things, but the weight of his attention was impossible to ignore. Every time you glanced his way, he quickly looked down, pretending to be focused on his drink or the conversation. Yet his subtle smirk betrayed him, like he knew something you didn’t.
Your stomach twisted again, but this time it wasn’t just embarrassment—it was something else, something harder to pin down. Was he amused? Angry? Curious? Or worse… disappointed?
“Y/N,” Emily called, pulling you back to the moment. “What about you? Didn’t you have that one time with the sheriff who thought you were the intern?”
You forced a laugh, grateful for the change of subject. “Oh, God, yes. He spent half the briefing explaining things to me like I’d never heard of basic police work. Then he asked if I could grab him coffee!” The group erupted into laughter again, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, focusing on the good friends around you.
But even in the warmth of the group’s laughter, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Spencer’s gaze. It burned softly, quietly, but with undeniable intensity, leaving you wondering what he was thinking—and what he might be planning to say when the moment came.
After dropping Emily off and driving yourself home, you settled into the comfort of your routine, grateful to put the tension of the evening behind you. You had already changed into pajamas and washed your face when a sharp knock at the door startled you. The hour was late, and your neighborhood wasn’t exactly bustling at night, so caution kicked in immediately. Grabbing your gun—safety on, of course—you crept toward the door and checked the peephole.
The sight of Spencer standing there, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, made you release a heavy sigh. You lowered the gun, unbolting the door and opening it to find him still waiting, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination.
“Spencer?” you asked, blinking at him in surprise. “Why are you here?”
His gaze immediately dropped to the gun still loosely in your grip, and his eyebrows shot up. “Whoa,” he said with a nervous laugh, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I come in peace. I just wanted to talk.”
You shook your head, setting the weapon on the nearby table with a faint smirk. “You picked a great time for it,” you muttered, motioning for him to come inside. “What’s so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
Spencer stepped past you, his movements careful and deliberate as he crossed the threshold. He paused just inside, glancing around as though he needed to steady himself. Finally, he turned to face you, his hands still tucked in his pockets, his face unreadable.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened, and then tonight…” he began, his voice soft but steady.
Your stomach dropped, and you felt your pulse quicken. “What do you mean?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you leaned against the doorframe.
His lips twitched—something between a smile and a grimace. “You know exactly what I mean,” he said quietly, his eyes locking onto yours. “The way you froze when I said ‘boring.’ The way you’ve been avoiding looking at me for weeks. And the way you bolted when Emily tried to press you about hookups tonight.”
You opened your mouth to deny it, but he held up a hand, stopping you.
“I saw the text,” he admitted softly, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting yours again. “The one you meant to send to Emily.”
Your heart sank, and your cheeks flushed with humiliation. “Spencer, I—” you began, but he cut you off again, his voice surprisingly calm.
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he continued. “I figured it was your way of processing things, and I didn’t want to make it worse. But after tonight, I realized… maybe we need to talk about it.”
You swallowed hard, your throat dry as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Spencer, I didn’t mean for you to see that. I was just… venting. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He nodded, his expression softening. “I know you didn’t. And honestly, I’m not upset—not about what you said, anyway. But it made me think… maybe I didn’t handle things as well as I could have.”
That caught you off guard. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Spencer hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I wasn’t exactly at my best that night. I was nervous, and I didn’t know how to… connect with you the way I wanted to. And after seeing that text, I realized I might have made you feel… unimportant. Like it didn’t mean anything to me. But it did.”
His confession left you stunned, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. The vulnerability in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes—it was almost too much.
“Spencer,” you said softly, stepping closer. “I didn’t think… I mean, I didn’t realize it mattered to you that much.”
“It does,” Spencer said simply, his voice steady but his eyes searching yours. ���And I want to try to redeem myself, if you’ll let me.”
“Redeem yourself?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the words catching in your throat as the air between you grew heavy with anticipation.
Spencer stepped closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you, his movements careful and deliberate. “Yeah,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. His hands found your waist, his touch light but firm as he gently pulled you closer. “Is this okay?”
You nodded, the gesture small but filled with meaning. You felt like you were in a daze, your thoughts scattered as Spencer leaned down, his eyes flickering between yours and your lips. Time seemed to slow as his face drew nearer, and then his lips were on yours.
The kiss was different this time—slower, deeper, infused with an unspoken promise. Spencer’s hands slid up your sides, one settling on your lower back, the other moving to cradle the side of your face. You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, then curling into the fabric of his shirt as the kiss deepened.
It wasn’t rushed, and it wasn’t awkward. It was intentional, every movement speaking of care and consideration. Spencer kissed you like he wanted to show you exactly how much you mattered, how much the moment mattered.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady yourselves. His hand remained on your face, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek.
“Can we take this to the bedroom?” Spencer asked softly, his voice a delicate mixture of nerves and hope. His hand on your waist tightened ever so slightly, grounding both you and him as his hazel eyes searched yours for an answer.
Your heart fluttered at his request, the vulnerability in his expression making the moment feel intimate in a way that words couldn’t quite capture. You nodded, your lips parting slightly as you whispered, “Yeah, we can.”
He exhaled a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, his relief almost palpable. He smiled, that shy but genuine smile that made your chest ache in the best way. Taking your hand in his, he let you lead him toward the bedroom, his fingers entwining with yours in a way that felt so natural, so right.
Once inside, Spencer paused, glancing around as if he were taking in every detail of the space. You felt a rush of warmth in your cheeks, suddenly hyper-aware of your surroundings, but Spencer’s attention quickly returned to you. He reached for you again, his touch gentle as he pulled you close.
“I want to get this right,” he murmured, his voice soft and earnest. His hands slid up to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “I don’t want you to ever feel like… like you don’t matter to me.”
The sincerity in his words struck something deep within you, and you leaned into his touch, your hands resting on his chest as you tilted your face up to him. “You don’t have to prove anything, Spencer,” you said quietly. 
His lips curved into a small smile, “I want to” he said before he kissed you again, this time with a slow, deliberate tenderness that sent a shiver down your spine.
Spencer’s hands trembled slightly as he took his time this time, unhurriedly removing your clothes with a reverence that bordered on worship. Every inch of newly exposed skin was met with a gentle kiss, his lips pressing softly against your collarbone, your shoulders, the curve of your hip. His attention to every detail made your heart race and your skin hum with anticipation.
His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second and show you how much this moment meant to him. He whispered quiet words between kisses—gentle reassurances and praises that made you feel both seen and cherished.
By the time you were completely bare, the tension in your body had melted away, replaced by a growing warmth that seemed to spread from your chest to every corner of your being. Spencer’s hands lingered on your waist, his touch warm and grounding, before he guided you gently to lie down on the bed. His gaze never left yours, his hazel eyes filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness.
“You’re beautiful,” he said softly, almost like a prayer, before straightening to remove his own clothes. Piece by piece, he stripped down, his movements still unhurried as though rushing would break the fragile intimacy between you. When he was down to just his briefs, he paused, his expression laced with vulnerability as he looked at you.
Spencer took your hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he climbed onto the bed in front of you. The mattress dipped under his weight, and he leaned down, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before trailing a path along your jaw and down your neck.
This wasn’t rushed or frantic. This wasn’t about proving anything or making up for past mistakes (well, maybe a little bit). This was about connection, about being fully present with each other. Spencer’s touch was gentle but firm, his kisses lingering, his hands exploring every curve and plane of your body as though memorizing you.
“You matter,” Spencer murmured against your skin, the words sending shivers down your spine as they vibrated through you. “This matters.”
“Spencer,” you groaned, your tone half-playful, half-flustered as you turned your head and buried your face in the pillow, trying to hide the heat rising in your cheeks.
“I mean it,” he said with a soft laugh, his lips brushing tender kisses along the curve of your hips as he began to trail his way downward. His voice was warm and genuine, the sincerity in his words making your heart ache in the best way.
You gasped softly, lifting your head from the pillow to look at him just as his hands gently spread your thighs apart. His gaze was steady but filled with unmistakable affection, the teasing grin on his face doing nothing to disguise the care in his actions.
“No foreplay?” he said, raising an eyebrow as he settled between your legs. His hands caressed your thighs, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. “What awful man made you go through that?”
The memory of your drunken text and his earlier words flashed through your mind, and your cheeks flushed even deeper. “Oh my god, Spencer,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands as he laughed softly.
“I’m serious,” he continued, his tone light but laced with playful mockery. “That’s a crime against humanity, honestly. But don’t worry,” he added, his voice dropping lower as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “I’ll make it up to you.”
The words alone sent a shiver through you, but it was the way Spencer looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment—that left you utterly breathless. And as his lips moved closer, you realized with a mix of anticipation and awe that he fully intended to prove it.
The first kiss to your most intimate skin made you yelp in shock, your body jolting at the sudden, unexpected sensation. The sound escaped you before you could even process it, and your hands flew to grip the sheets beneath you as your breath hitched.
“Someone’s sensitive,” Spencer mumbled, his voice low and teasing, the words more directed to your skin than to you. His warm breath against you made your already racing heart stutter. Before you could form a coherent response, he leaned in again, his lips pressing another kiss to your clit, this time followed by a slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue.
The sensation was electric, a mix of heat and softness that sent waves of pleasure through your body. You couldn’t stop the soft moan that slipped from your lips, your head falling back against the pillow as Spencer’s hands gripped your thighs gently, holding you in place as he worked.
He moved with an almost studious precision, as though he were memorizing what made you gasp, shiver, or moan. Every touch of his lips, every flick of his tongue, was calculated yet somehow felt achingly natural, like he was simply following the rhythm of your body.
"Mm," he hummed against you, his tone almost smug as he pulled back briefly, his lips glistening. "I knew you'd taste amazing." His voice was warm, filled with an admiration that made your cheeks burn. Then, without giving you time to respond, he dove back in, his tongue and lips working together in a way that left you unable to form a single coherent thought.
You were melting, your body arching into him as your fingers tangled in the sheets. Each sensation was more intense than the last, and you found yourself utterly at his mercy, the rest of the world fading away until only Spencer remained.
And just when you thought the pleasure couldn’t possibly get any better, Spencer added one of his beautiful, long, bony fingers into the mix. The gentle yet deliberate motion of his finger sliding into you sent a shockwave of sensation through your entire body, and you couldn’t hold back the way your back arched off the bed.
“Spencer!” you yelled out, his name tumbling from your lips like a plea, your voice raw with need. The sound seemed to spur him on, and you felt his lips curve into a faint smile against your skin.
“Good?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin as he looked up at you through half-lidded eyes, his expression equal parts satisfaction and adoration.
You could barely respond, your words coming out in broken gasps. “Yes—oh my god, yes!”
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against you, before he returned his focus to you. His finger moved in perfect rhythm with his tongue, slow and deliberate at first, then gradually picking up a pace that had you completely unraveling beneath him. Every movement was calculated, every flick of his wrist or press of his tongue designed to draw out every sound you made, and you could feel yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge.
“Spencer…” you whimpered, your voice trembling as your body trembled beneath his relentless attention. You weren’t sure if you were begging him to stop or pleading for him to never stop—maybe both, maybe neither. All you knew was that he was consuming every part of you, and you didn’t want it to end.
When he added a second finger, curling them in just the right way, it pushed you over the edge. The pleasure was overwhelming, crashing over you in waves so powerful that your cries filled the room as your body arched into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as if you needed to anchor yourself to reality.
Spencer didn’t stop, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you until you were left trembling, breathless, and completely undone beneath him. Only then did he pull back, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs as he gave you a moment to catch your breath.
“You’re amazing,” Spencer murmured, his voice filled with a quiet awe as he rested his chin lightly on your hip. His hazel eyes were warm and sincere, and a soft smile tugged at his lips. “Can’t believe I missed out on this last time.”
The compliment, so earnest and sweet, made your cheeks flush. You slung an arm over your eyes, laughing softly, trying to shake off the sudden wave of shyness that washed over you. “Oh my god,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by your arm.
Spencer chuckled, his amusement clear as he pushed himself up and lay down beside you. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and you felt his warmth even before he leaned in close, propping his head up with one hand as he looked down at you with a playful expression. “What’s so funny?” he asked, his tone light, curiosity mingling with amusement.
You moved your arm just enough to peek at him, a lopsided grin still on your face. “I just—wow,” you said, still catching your breath. “I was not expecting that.”
Spencer’s brows lifted in mock surprise, and he placed a hand over his chest in a dramatic gesture. “You doubted me?” he teased, his grin widening.
You laughed again, finally dropping your arm and turning to face him fully. “No, not exactly,” you admitted, biting your lip. “But that was… definitely not what I expected. In the best possible way.”
His expression softened, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something gentler. “Good,” he said simply, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “Am I going to get a better review this time?”
You burst out laughing, playfully swatting at his chest. “Mhm,” you teased, unable to keep the grin off your face. “I’ll make sure to tell Em how good her coworker is with his mouth.”
Spencer groaned, burying his face in his hands for a moment before chuckling. “Oh god, please don’t do that,” he said, his voice muffled by his hands before he peeked out at you with a sheepish grin. “Just tell her your boyfriend is better than you previously thought.”
His words hung in the air, and you froze, your breath catching in your throat. “Boyfriend?” you repeated, your brows raising as you looked at him, searching his face for any sign that he was joking.
Spencer’s cheeks flushed instantly, but he didn’t backpedal. Instead, he held your gaze, his lips twitching into a small, nervous smile. “I mean… if you want me to be,” he said softly, his voice losing some of its usual confidence. “I just thought… maybe this isn’t just a one-time, or two-timw thing. At least, I hope it’s not.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the vulnerability in his voice, and a warmth spread through your chest as you processed his words. You couldn’t help but smile, reaching out to rest a hand on his cheek. “You’re serious?”
Spencer nodded, his hazel eyes filled with sincerity. “Yeah, I am,” he said quietly. “But only if you’re okay with that.”
A smile spread across your face, your fingers brushing against his skin as you leaned in closer. “I think a girl could get used to that,” you whispered.
The relief that washed over Spencer’s face was almost palpable, and he couldn’t hide the wide grin that followed. “Good,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you again, this time with a newfound certainty that made your heart flutter.
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baelabong · 5 months ago
Text
ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ (ᴘᴀᴜʙᴀʏᴀ)
ᴋᴀʀɪɴᴀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ - ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ
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plot: you need to let go
genre: angst
notes!warnings: rina LOWKEY cheating, it was supposed to be sana but like i changed my mind half way oops
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The first time Y/N noticed something had changed, it was a small thing. So small that she brushed it off, telling herself that she was overthinking. It was during one of their usual late-night hangouts, the kind where they'd lie in bed together, talking about everything and nothing. The air was warm, the kind of warmth that made you want to stay up just a little longer, to savor the night before it slipped away.
Jimin had her head on Y/N’s lap, scrolling through her phone as Y/N absentmindedly played with her hair. It was a scene that had played out countless times before, a simple, comforting routine. But that night, something was different. The usual soft laughter that would spill from Jimin's lips was missing. Her responses were shorter, distracted. Y/N had asked her about her day, about a story she knew Jimin would usually jump at the chance to share, but Jimin had only nodded, her eyes glued to her screen.
Y/N bit her lip, trying to push down the pang of hurt. Maybe Jimin was just tired, or maybe she was engrossed in something important. But when she glanced at the screen, she saw that Jimin wasn’t reading an article or responding to a work message. She was scrolling through someone’s social media profile. A girl Y/N didn’t recognize.
Y/N had felt a twist in her gut, but she quickly looked away, not wanting to seem paranoid. She reminded herself that Jimin had friends, and there was no reason to feel jealous. But the image of that unfamiliar profile lingered in her mind long after they had gone to bed, with Jimin’s back turned to her.
---
Weeks passed, and the feeling only grew stronger. Jimin began coming home later than usual, with vague excuses about work or meeting up with friends Y/N had never heard of before. The spontaneous dates they used to go on, the weekend getaways they loved to plan on a whim, became less frequent. Jimin started canceling plans at the last minute, often with a text message instead of a call.
Y/N tried to be understanding. She knew life got busy, that sometimes they couldn’t spend every moment together like they used to. But the distance between them was no longer just physical. It was emotional, too.
One night, they had planned a dinner together at their favorite restaurant. Y/N had been looking forward to it all week, excited to spend some quality time with Jimin, to try and recapture some of the closeness that had been slipping away. But as she waited at the restaurant, her heart sank with every passing minute. Jimin was late—again.
Y/N stared at her phone, the unease growing with each unanswered call and text. When Jimin finally walked through the door, she looked apologetic, but also distracted. “Sorry, I got caught up with something,” she said quickly, barely meeting Y/N’s eyes.
“What was it?” Y/N asked, trying to keep her tone light. She was used to Jimin’s busy schedule, but tonight felt different. She needed an explanation, something to ease the growing knot of anxiety in her chest.
Jimin hesitated, her eyes darting away. “Just… work stuff. It took longer than expected.”
Y/N nodded slowly, but she wasn’t convinced. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here now.”
But even as they ate, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that Jimin’s mind was elsewhere. She tried to bring up funny stories from her day, reminisced about their past trips, anything to pull Jimin back to her, but the conversations felt forced. Jimin smiled and laughed at the right moments, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It felt like she was going through the motions, trying to play the part of the attentive girlfriend, but something was missing.
That night, as they lay in bed, Y/N tried to wrap her arms around Jimin, to hold her close like she always did. But Jimin turned away, mumbling something about being tired. Y/N stared at the back of her head, the familiar scent of Jimin’s shampoo filling the air, but it brought no comfort. All Y/N could feel was the cold space growing between them.
---
The breaking point came on a rainy afternoon. They were supposed to spend the day together, something they hadn’t done in what felt like ages. Y/N had planned everything, from breakfast in bed to watching their favorite movie, hoping to reignite the spark that had been dimming for so long. But when Jimin walked in, soaked from the rain, her face was pale, her eyes distant.
Y/N hurried over, concern etching her features. “Jimin, what happened? Are you okay?”
Jimin didn’t answer right away. She just stood there, dripping water onto the floor, looking like she had been somewhere else entirely. Finally, she looked up at Y/N, her eyes filled with an emotion Y/N couldn’t quite place. “We need to talk,” she said quietly.
Y/N’s heart sank. She had heard those words before, in other relationships, and they never led anywhere good. “About what?”
Jimin hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “About us.”
Y/N felt a chill run down her spine. She had known this was coming, had felt it in every missed connection, every unspoken word between them. But hearing it out loud was different. It made it real. “What about us?”
Jimin looked down at the floor, unable to meet Y/N’s eyes. “Things… things haven’t been the same, Y/N. I’ve been trying to figure it out, to make sense of it, but I can’t keep pretending that everything is fine.”
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “What are you saying, Jimin?”
“I don’t know when it started, but… I don’t feel the same way anymore.” Jimin’s voice cracked, her hands trembling at her sides. “I still care about you, but the love… it’s not the same.”
Y/N’s world felt like it was crumbling around her. She had feared this moment, dreaded it, but nothing could have prepared her for the actual pain of hearing it. “When did you realize?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know,” Jimin admitted, finally looking up. “It was gradual, I guess. I tried to ignore it, to push it away, but… I’m not in love with you the way I used to be.”
Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to break down. “Is there someone else?”
Jimin hesitated for a moment too long, and Y/N’s heart shattered. “There is, isn’t there?”
“It’s not like that,” Jimin said quickly. “I never meant for it to happen. I never wanted to hurt you.”
“But you did,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. “You’re here with me, but your heart… it’s somewhere else. With her.”
Jimin didn’t deny it. She couldn’t. The guilt in her eyes was all the confirmation Y/N needed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Y/N asked, her voice breaking. “Why did you let me believe that we still had a chance?”
“I didn’t want to lose you,” Jimin confessed, tears finally spilling over. “I kept hoping that I could find a way back to the way things were, that I could love you the way you deserve. But I can’t.”
Y/N closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely now. “When did your love for me start to fade away, Jimin? I gave you everything I had, all I wanted was to see you smile.”
Jimin’s heart broke at the sound of Y/N’s anguish. She reached out, wanting to hold her, to comfort her, but Y/N pulled away, shaking her head.
“Don’t,” Y/N said, her voice trembling. “Don’t touch me if it’s not real.”
Jimin’s hands dropped to her sides, powerless to make things right. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt you.”
Y/N looked at her, a mix of heartbreak and resignation in her eyes. “If she’s the key to your happiness, I won’t stand in your way. I’m letting you go, Jimin. But I have one request.”
Jimin’s breath caught in her throat. “Anything.”
“Make sure she loves you the way I have,” Y/N said, her voice cracking with the weight of her words.
Jimin’s tears fell harder now, the reality of what she was losing hitting her all at once. She had known this day would come, but nothing could have prepared her for the pain of actually losing Y/N. “Y/N, I…”
“It’s too late,” Y/N interrupted, shaking her head. “I’ve been holding on, hoping that we could find our way back to each other, but I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay. It’s me who’s wrapped in your arms, but it’s her on your mind.”
Jimin didn’t have the words to make it better. The truth was too heavy, too painful to deny.
“Even if she’s the key to your happiness,” Y/N continued, wiping her tears, “my love for you will never change. But I’m setting you free. Just promise me that she’ll love you the way I have.”
“I don’t want to lose you,” Jimin whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.
Y/N gave her a sad smile. “You already have.”
For a moment, they stood in silence, the weight of their situation pressing down on them. Y/N could see the regret in Jimin’s eyes, but she knew it wasn’t enough. Regret wouldn’t bring back what they had lost.
“I’m hoping it’s still us,” Y/N said, her voice trembling. “I wish this would never end. But I know it’s her who’s your last.”
Jimin shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “I never wanted this.”
“I know,” Y/N replied softly. “Neither did I.”
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I still can’t believe that you’ve chosen her,” she confessed, her heart breaking with every word. “I can see it in your eyes. And it’s hard to fight for what’s not meant to be.”
Jimin reached out, gently cupping Y/N’s face in her hands. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You deserve so much more.”
Y/N leaned into her touch, closing her eyes as she savored the moment, knowing it would be their last. “I’m letting you go, Love,” she whispered. “I’m letting you go… but I’ll still wait for you.”
Jimin’s heart shattered at the sound of Y/N’s words. She pulled her into a tight embrace, holding on as if her life depended on it. But she knew it was over. She had made her choice, and there was no going back.
As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms for the final time, Y/N whispered, “Goodbye, Jimin.”
With that, she stepped back, turning away before she could change her mind. She walked out of the room, leaving Jimin standing there, tears streaming down her face as the door closed behind her.
Jimin stared at the door, her heart aching with the loss of the person she had loved more than anything. But as much as she wanted to chase after her, to beg her to stay, she knew it wouldn’t be fair. Y/N deserved someone who would love her the way she had loved, and that person wasn’t her.
Jimin wiped her tears, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips as she whispered to the empty room, “I’ll never forget you, Y/N. I promise.”
But in her heart, she knew Y/N was already gone.
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sunlightgalaxy · 4 months ago
Text
heating up in here
hotchniss alaska au
warnings: smut, case talk, the usual
a/n: this got looooong oops ! for the sake of the story we’re pretending they weren’t matchy matchy and that she is in fact wearing his sweater
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(gifs by @aaronwhorechner )
**
“i’m not sleeping with reid.”
emily stifled a laugh, watching as penelope instantly claimed dibs on sharing with morgan.
“come on, spence, we can share.” jj spoke, placing an arm around the young agent to turn him towards the stairs. and then there were three.
rossi wordlessly looked between emily and aaron before sticking his hand out for a key. 4 rooms, 7 people; the math wasn’t hard, there was one single room. and dave knew he had it to himself.
“guess it’s you and me tonight,” hotch said, picking up his bag and making his way towards the room. emily followed in tow, doing her best to keep up.
“you think they have heat?” she asked as she trailed behind, arms rubbing against herself as best she could to keep warm. emily was a cold woman. not emotionally, well, not anymore, but physically cold almost all of the time. needless to say, she was not doing too well in the alaskan weather.
“let’s hope,” hotch said, stopping at the hotel room door. he unlocked the lock, taking a little longer than emily pleased.
“what, did you forget how to open a door?” she teased.
“it’s an old hotel, prentiss,” hotch sighed, finally pushing the door open. “the lock probably hasn’t been changed in decades.” he walked in, flicking on the light and stopping in his tracks. which, naturally, caused emily to walk straight into his backside.
“ow, hotch!” emily yelped, her hand reaching for his shoulder to steady herself. she was about to ask why the hell he stopped walking two steps into the room when she noticed what caught his attention: the lone, king-sized bed in the middle of the room.
“you can have it,” hotch said, moving in further and digging clothes out of his go-bag. “you get cold.” emily rolled her eyes, grabbing her own pajamas from her bag.
“don’t be stupid, there’s no couch and you’ll kill your back laying on the floor every night.” she reasoned, watching him make his way to the bathroom. “we’re adults, we’ll be fine.”
“yeah,” she heard hotch call as he shut the door. emily dug through her go-bag, grabbing her pajamas and groaning. the case had been called in hours after they returned from their previous one, meaning she hadn’t had time to properly pack her bag. which meant she had no sweatshirt. sighing, she threw on her sweats and t-shirt and waited for hotch to be done in the bathroom.
he walked out moments later, breath catching in his throat when he caught sight of emily. his eyes flitted down to her chest, nipples visible through the fabric of her shirt. clearing his throat, he looked back up at her and spoke. “no sweatshirt?”
“forgot to pack one,” she mumbled, walking into the bathroom and closing the door. splashing water onto her face, emily sighed as she resigned herself to sharing a bed with her boss. her very attractive boss, no less.
stepping out, her eyes landed on hotch, sitting in bed looking over the case file. he looked up, eyes meeting hers momentarily before reaching behind him. “here,” he said, tossing his brown quarter-zip sweater towards her. “it’ll keep you warm tonight.”
emily smiled gratefully, pulling on the warm fabric and watching it pool around her arms. “thank you,” she mumbled softly, climbing into the bed next to him. “goodnight hotch.”
“goodnight prentiss,” hotch replied, taking a moment to look at her before shutting the light off. god, she looked so good in his sweater. he laid there for a moment, the darkness and silence of the room really putting into perspective his situation. he was sharing a bed with his subordinate, arguably his most attractive one, in the middle of alaska. truly not how hotch had expected his day to end.
emily, meanwhile, had the same thought about her boss looming in the back of her mind. however, she couldn’t bear to focus on that, instead channeling all of her energy into not shivering. as warm as hotch’s sweater was - and fuck, it was warm - she was still freezing. arms wrapped around herself, doing her best to not hog the covers, emily tried her hardest to keep warm and still.
it was no use though, hotch could feel her body twitching every so often. plus, her teeth were chattering so frequently that he thought they would chip. he debated for a moment whether he should sacrifice his own warmth and give her the blanket, or cross the line and give her his embrace. and as much as he wanted to just give her the blanket, he didn’t want to be cold either.
she felt the bed dip first, feeling hotch roll to his other side. then, she felt the warmth encapsulate her body as his arm wrapped against her. finally, she felt his body directly against her back as he pulled her flush to him. oh. she was definitely warm now. their close proximity meant that when he whispered to her, his words went straight to her ear, hot breath tickling her skin. “think you can sleep now?”
no. absolutely not. “yeah,” she whispered back, making a feeble attempt to relax her body and find a comfortable position. instead, however, she found her ass pressed directly against him. she was sure her skin was fucking boiling at this point, cursing herself internally for even moving half an inch. she felt hotch breathing heavily against her, and all she could do was pray he was asleep and close her eyes.
he was not asleep, instead focusing everything on trying not to get rock hard against emily’s ass. unfortunately for hotch, no amount of steady breathing could stop his dick from growing harder. feeling the sudden warmth on her ass, emily smirked to herself. “think you’ll be able to sleep now?” she whispered, stifling a giggle.
“emily,” hotch groaned, his tone somewhere between a moan and a warning. keeping her lower body in place, she turned her head around to meet hotch’s eyes. the smirk fell from her face when she was met with nothing but lust from the man in front of her. gasping, she felt hotch’s hand wrap around her waist, snaking its way up bottom of the sweater.
“aaron,” she whispered, a moan catching in her throat. her free arm wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. she could feel his breath on her lips, inches away from making contact with her own.
and that’s when they heard a scream.
***
“his name’s craig ramey. fisherman.”
the team gathered around the latest victim, all clad in their pajamas and jackets. as the discussion about the unsub’s accelerated schedule picked up, emily’s attention only strayed further. she could practically feel hotch’s eyes boring into her cheek, and if she was still enough, she could almost feel his breath on her skin.
aaron was doing all he could to maintain his professional manner in this moment, but all thoughts led him back to emily. he forced his eyes on the victim in front, around the team, at the cops, but they always found their way back to her.
“it’s still late,” hotch spoke suddenly, clearing his voice. “i’m sure none of us got much sleep, why don’t we all take a couple hours to rest and get ready for the morning?” it wasn’t a question, and he knew there wouldn’t be any rest in his room.
the team trickled apart, each making their way back to their respective rooms. emily stopped at hers, waiting for aaron to make his way from back of the group. he opened the door, and when emily stepped inside it was only a matter of seconds before the door was locked and she was pressed against it.
“aaron,” she gasped, arms wrapping around his neck to stabilize herself. he looked into her eyes, pupils blow.
“what, sweetheart?” he asked, voice about a whisper.
“kiss me.”
and kiss her he did. lips against each other, breathy moans traveling from emily’s throat to aaron’s mouth. she could feel his stubble against her face, turning her on more than she already was. his hips pushed towards her, causing emily to gasp when she felt his cock press against her pulsing core. aaron pulled back, lips beginning to nip along her neck. one hand braced her hip against the wall, the other finding its way through her layers of clothing.
“look so fucking good in my sweater, baby,” he muttered, eliciting a moan from emily as he twisted her nipple. “gonna fuck you so good while you wear it.”
“aaron,” she whined, his name apparently being the only word her brain could form. she released one hand from his hair, bringing it down to fumble with his jeans. before she could even get them unbuttoned, however, he was pressing his hips forward, cock straining against her hand. “fuck,” she groaned. “need you so badly.”
“is that so?” he asked, emily practically feeling the smirk radiating off of him. “take me then.”
she didn’t need to be told twice. she had his pants and boxers dropped in seconds. eyes blowing wide at the size of his cock. emily sunk to her knees, taking her time to work him with her hand. “emily,” hotch moaned, almost as if it was a warning. it was then she wrapped her lips around him, moaning at the string of curses he muttered while she swirled her tongue around his tip. inch by inch, she took him in her mouth, jaw aching from the size of him. she bobbed back and forth, increasing speed ever so slowly and wrapping a hand around what couldn’t fit.
hotch looked down, pupils blown at the sight of emily beneath him. he let out a groan, even more turned on when he felt her gag around him. they locked eyes, emily watching his expressions as she moved back and forth. it became too much, then, hotch tapping her cheek twice as a sign to release.
“too good at that,” he murmured, thumb wiping away the stray tears that fell from her eyes. “would’ve cum if you kept going, and i’m saving that for when i’m inside you.”
it was emily’s turn to groan, which no sooner turned into a squeal as hotch swept her off her feet and placed her on the bed. true to his word, he removed all her clothing, save for his sweater. taking of the remnants of his clothes, aaron climbed on top of her and pressed two fingers to her lips. instinctively, she opened her mouth, sucking the digits nicely until he pulled back.
within seconds those same fingers delved into her wet, soaking cunt. emily moaned, to which aaron placed his free hand on top of her mouth. “can’t have you being too loud, can we?” she shook her head, mouth opening and closing against his palm as aaron’s pace picked up.
“aaron, oh my god,” emily whispered, nearly biting his palm to keep from screaming. he smiled, planing a kiss to her head as he added a third finger inside her. she groaned, head pushing away from his hand and dropping to his shoulder. “fuck, aaron, please,” she whined, feeling herself getting closer to the edge.
“come for me, baby,” he muttered in her ear, groaning softly as he felt her tip over the edge. “good girl, so good for me.” he fucked her through her orgasm until it was too much, emily removing his hand and panting into his chest.
“holy fuck,” she breathed, slowly catching her breath. she looked up at hotch, meeting his soft smile with one of her own.
“you okay?” he asked.
“yeah,” she said. “so okay.”
“good.” he didn’t waste a second before pushing her back onto the bed, spreading her legs as he followed and lined up inside her. she gasped, locking eyes with him.
“please,” she whispered, staring at his hard, leaking cock at the edge of her equally soaked cunt.
“oh god, emily,” he moaned, watching his dick disappear under his sweater and into her pussy. “so fucking tight, so fucking good.”
“aaron,” emily whine, relishing in how good the pain was as his dick stretched out her cunt. she didn’t even want time to adjust to his size, she needed him to fuck her. “move.”
he wasted no time, fucking her with a rapid pace. “oh, emily,” he moaned, a string of curses following under his breath. emily groaned at the sensation, his tip hitting her perfectly. aaron looked up and felt himself getting closer as he watched emily, her mouth agape as she bit back a whimper. “so good for me,” he said, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss. “i’m so close.”
“inside,” she responded, no hesitation. “please.”
“of course,” he whispered, picking up the pace and moving impossibly faster. he felt emily’s orgasm before she did, her moans combined with the clenching around his cock pulling his own. he spilt into her, stilling as they came down from their high.
he pulled out, laying down next to emily and turning to look at her. she turned to him, a soft smile on her face that matched his. “what?” she asked.
“you’re beautiful,” he responded, pushing her grown-out bangs out of her face. “pretty girl.” she blushed as he planted a kiss to her cheek, pulling her into his arms.
“you’re not so bad yourself,” she spoke, her voice muffled against his chest. “can i keep the sweater?” she asked a moment later, feeling his chest vibrate with laughter.
“for the rest of the trip, sure.” he said. “i have others i can wear. but i want it back, that’s my favorite one.”
“yeah,” emily sighed. “me too.”
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ferrarifinnick · 6 months ago
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risk | homelander, starlight
starlight x reader x homelander
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the vought boardroom is for business, not pleasure. they say not to mix those two things together, but just this once won't hurt... right?
note: this is a reimagined version of attention, but this time lighter on the smut and heavier on homelander's involvement. this has not been proofread oops. only my second fic on the boys, what do you think? and i hope you like it!! love <3 masterlist
warnings: light smut, teasing, flashing, the deep, homelander, lots of boob action, tension, pretty mild for the most part
2.3k
Homelander endlessly paced back and forth. If you couldn't see his boots thumping the tiled floor of the Vought boardroom, you'd have been certain he'd burned his stress into the ground for all to see. Homelander wasn't known for privatising his feelings, after all.
For over forty minutes, your head swung left to right, following Homelander's frame, tuned in to the same unrelenting speech about the importance of statistics.
"If we don't boost our numbers with them," he referred to yet another protected class of people, "who knows what they'll turn to in our absence? Drugs, alcohol, maybe even murder — you name it!"
You sucked in another breath, fighting with all your might to repress the urge to roll your eyes into the back of your skull. Homelander wouldn't appreciate that. Not that Maeve wasn't nearly constantly taking glimpses of her brain out in the open for Homelander to catch. He'd have to stop pacing for that, though, and that didn't seem likely for at least another hour. Or until Deep rolled the wheels of his desk chair too loudly. He fell into that habit at the hour-twenty mark usually, so there was still a chance at the meeting ending early. And in flames, too, probably.
How his legs weren’t aching in the slightest baffled you. Not that you were staring... well, maybe you were. That suit did wonders for him. Thick thighs, meaty calves, just how you liked your superheroes. If only he wasn't clinically insane.
Your eyes shot open at the sound of the boardroom doors creaking open. With the rest of the Seven — or six, really, since Starlight was missing from the table — you glanced at the door.
There she stood small like a mouse, head sheepishly hanging down. Oh — and half naked.
Only when Homelander gleefully cheered "Ah, there she is!" did you realise you were gawking. Like the loose anchor of a boat, you reeled your jaw back up until it lifted back into place, clenching it hard as if to secure it. But really, it was to refocus your body on a different sensation to the one burning between your legs.
"I'm sorry I'm late. Took longer than we expected with wardrobe."
Homelander waved a hand dismissively, grinning so wide his eyes were half-shut. "Nonesense," he insisted, gesturing for her to take her place in the seat reassigned to her after Translucent's death. She obeyed, arms quickly crossing over her chest once she caught Deep practically panting over her, but the closer she got to the conference table, the tighter she held herself.
Homelander nodded in approval once she sat down. He slapped his hands together, sending a ripple through the silence of the boardroom. "Isn't this great?" He said, glancing from Starlight at the one end of the pointed table, to Noir at the other. "Look at us, back together," he said, slinging an arm over Maeve's stiff shoulder. "A united little front in the face of evil." He grinned gleefully down at Maeve, swooping in to plant a dry kiss on her hair. "Aren't we just a dashing little team?"
Deep quickly blurted out, "Best team ever, Homelander."
The grin faltered, but Homelander quickly stretched it back up into place. "Yeah," he muttered, but quickly cleared his throat to add, "Yes, thank you, Deep."
"You're welcome, Homelander." Smug, Deep rolled his shoulders back and glanced over at you, raising his brows as if to say did you see that?!
You nodded with exhausted enthusiasm, catching the roll of your eyes before Deep — or worse yet, Homelander — could clock it.
"So, Starlight, as I was just saying," Homelander continued, "We have to polish up our numbers. Sweep off the dust with the ladies," he said, gesturing to a screen on the wall with a diagram outlining a decline in interaction with women. "We could pump out some chick-flick girl power movie but that barely did anything for Maeve last time." Homelander's boots carried him back into the same line of pacing as earlier. "No, we can't do that, what's the point?" He mumbled into the palm of his hand as he caressed his cheeks.
Your head swung back and forth again. He rambled out into the room about the options, but with his hand now tightly cupping his mouth, he was almost completely inaudible.
With his head hung down, deep in thought, you snuck a glance at Starlight. She watching Homelander like a hawk, completely oblivious as you raked your eyes over her new super suit. The sleeves were gone, so was most of the fabric covering her chest. You glanced under the table. The skirt of her dress stretched up so high it was a wonder you couldn't see her panties.
What colour were they? White like her dress? Yellow like the accent on her suit? The urge to lift up her skirt to find out for yourself grew palpable, but you planted your boots into the ground in what you thought of as protest to your naughty mind.
You glanced around the table, sure to keep your head unnoticably still, and found nearly everyone else observing — no, ravishing—Starlight's freshly exposed skin. Animals, every one of them. You returned to Starlight, only to find her staring back at you.
She snapped her head back at Homelander with such speed you wondered how her head managed to stay attached to her shoulders. As if nothing happened, she stared silently as Homelander, her shoulders relaxed, hands resting loosely on the table in front of her. A coincidence, you convinced yourself. Two girls looking at each other at the same time, that's all. Nothing else to it, right? You bought your own thoughts. That was until you noticed the red creeping up her neck, painting her cheeks.
Was she blushing?
The twitch of your lips, pulling to one side with pride, took over you before you could control it. You flattened your mouth back into a straight line just as Maeve shot you an eyeroll as Homelander's ramblings continued again.
'Kill me' she mouthed, slumping back in her chair.
You stifled a snicker. Homelander suddenly spun on his feet. "Something funny?" He asked you, brow peaked up so high it lifted halfway up his forehead.
"Not at all, Homelander," you replied calmly, convincingly, offering all your composure wrapped up in a single smile. "What were you saying about the, ehem, bitter old cat ladies?"
"Ah, yes! As I was saying..." he continued on.
The beating in your chest calmed back into its regular rhythm. That is, until you glanced over at Starlight once more and caught her adjusting her sitting position. She uncrossed her legs, both heeled boots now pressed against the floor. It wasn't until she crossed her legs again that you caught it.
Red panties.
It was gone as quickly as you'd seen it. Her legs crossed again, absentmindedly swaying one foot as she listened to Homelander. This time it was your cheeks dyed with a flash of red, and before it could settle back down somewhere other than your face, Starlight snuck a glance at you.
Was that a smirk? Oh, it was definitely a smirk.
She might have a new — and definitely improved — super suit, but she was forgetting that two could play that game.
You reached for the glass of water on the table in front of you. Small sips, just a little bit of hydration to focus your mind. Starlight glanced over again, and a splash of water just so happened to spill onto the chest piece of your suit. It clung to the curve of your breasts, and deliciously, it highlighted the peaks of your nipples poking out in protest to the coldness of the water.
"Oh my," you gasped, setting the glass back onto the table.
The Deep immediately lurched out of his seat with a napkin stolen from the table. "I'll help you!" he said, his eyes blown wide with excitement as he gaped at your tits.
"Sit down," Homelander barked, hand on his shoulder forcing back into his seat. "Here," he said, and held out a handkerchief from some mysterious pocket in his suit. He watched as you made a show of patting down your breasts, careful not to block Starlight's view as they bounced as your rubbed them dry.
"Thank you," you smiled sweetly up at Homelander who made no secret of observing your wet breasts.
He offered his most affectionate smile back, the kind that promised he wasn't a psychopath hiding behind a pretty face. "Are you alright?" He asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"You know me," you dismissed his concern playfully, "Butterfingers."
Homelander took one last look at your breasts and sauntered back to his place at the top of the table. You shot Starlight a challenging lift of your brow, and she all but scowled at you. Under the table, you suddenly watched as her legs uncrossed. Her manicured hands floated down to her knees, delicately trailing up to the hem of her skirt.
You snuck one last glance up at her mischievous eyes. She quickly eyed the room and, satisfied that nobody but you was paying her any mind, she parted her thighs, those red panties glaring out at you against the white of her dress. But the red of her panties meant nothing to you when she pulled them aside and flashed the delicious pink hiding underneath.
With blown eyes you gawked at her. She slowly ran a finger down her wet folds, starting at her swollen clit and dipping down to her glistening little opening. Before you realised, her white skirt once again concealed all colour and her thighs squeezed together as she crossed her legs.
She lifted her hands back above the table top, and with one last glance around the room, she presented her glistening finger and plunged it between her lips.
'Tease' you mouthed to her with a short-lived glare, shaking your head at the smug smirk she shot back, as if to say beat that.
Your mind raced for the next move. A hand reached for the chest of your damp suit, but before you could prepare your next move, Homelander's voice flooded the room.
"I have an idea."
The eyes of The Seven landed upon him. He basked in the attention first, and then he finally sank into his chair.
"Deep, ask me how we improve our numbers with the ladies."
"Uhm," Deep said, sitting up in his chair. "How do we improve our numbers with the ladies, Homelander?"
"Well, Deep, that's a great question."
"Thank you, Homelander." He once again turned to you with bubbling excitement.
"The way we improve isn't with chick-flicks or higher profile arrests," he said, and finally, his eyes landed on you. "It's with our two girls, right here," he said, gesturing between you and Starlight. "What do ladies love more than a chick-flick?" He asked, as if challenging you to answer him. But you knew better. Something was coming, and you'd be damned and you'd be lasered if you dared ruin his moment to punish you. "A love triangle."
You blinked. A what?
A quick glance around the room at the other confused faces supported your own questions.
Deep asked quietly, "Does Walmart carry those, or...?"
"Two women, fighting against each other to capture the heart of America's most eligible bachelor... me."
You shot a glance towards Starlight, who, collapsing into herself like a dying star, seemed to have already come to the same conclusion as you did. You looked back at his smirk.
Homelander knew. He knew what took place between you, what game you were playing during his own meeting. But how? He seemed to understand your silent question and glanced over his shoulder at one of the windows.
"It's like a mirror at night, isn't it?"
The glass against the low light of the New York skyline reflected the boardroom more than it did the other skyscrapers, and that's when you realised you could see Starlight's lap, clear as day.
Homelander, eyes locked on yours, nodded. He knew. He watched the whole exchange. He knew what you both wanted, and he knew he could rip it away from you just as easily as he could laser your brains into a pile of bloody mush on the floor.
"Mindflood fueding with Starlight, all over little old me," he said, unable to resist the prideful grin stretching across his face. Was this the first time he'd ever been modest about himself? "Team Mindflood versus Team Starlight..." he banged his fists against the table excitedly. "That out to get the numbers up, right ladies?"
He didn't care about an answer.
But you cared less about his feelings.
"How exactly is that going to work? What are we going to suddenly throw down in public over who gets to suck you off first?"
"That sounds entertaining, don't you agree, Deep?"
"Yeah! ...Ehem. Yes, Homelander."
Homelander taunted you with a grin. "Who wants to go first?" He asked, predating his laugh while patting his thighs gleefully.
You didn't need to look at her. You knew Starlight was looking to you for guidance.
"Oh, I don't know, Homelander," you said, batting your lashes and squeezing your arms to the sides of your chest, pushing your breasts together. He glanced down at your still damp tits.
"Do you really want to share?" You pulled your lip between your teeth "Three's a crowd and all."
Homelander seemed to weigh it in his head. But when his elbows rested on the table, head cocked to the side with unwavering confidence, he asked, "Oh, but you see, almost nobody pays attention to a show of just two..." he trailed off, and you knew he meant the little show you and Starlight just put on for each other. "Almost nobody."
He patted his thighs again. This time the smile was gone. "Time to practise," he ordered, unzipping his pants. "So, ladies," his eyes shone a bright red. "Who's going to make this show really interesting?"
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anemicjellyfish · 1 month ago
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Random theorizing and/or speculation post idk.
So I've said it before and I'll say it again. Helluva Boss is pretty damn good at "Show, Don't Tell."
While it isn't entirely devoid of expositional dialogue, it really doesn't seem like they rely on it heavily. Even with a few heart-to-heart moments between characters like Blitzø & Fizzarolli in Oops and Loona & Octavia in Seeing Stars, big dialogue exchanges are kept to a minimum. Character development happens over time and through on-screen events rather than sitting down and talking it all out.
This, combined with the show's tendency to both 1, let events come full-circle and 2, show generational trauma as a way to let characters break free of the molds set for them, is why I think Octavia might get the "Stolas Experience" soon.
Now, I love Octavia. If I could pick a character to make sure the writing team doesn't traumatize, it's her. (This is a No Hate Zone for Octavia and Stolas btw.)
What I mean is that Octavia seems to have been kept from the same expectations that were put upon Stolas his whole life. She appears to make her own choices and express herself in ways that Stolas wasn't allowed. I have a feeling that, now that she is with her mother and uncle, she will be held to a similar standard as her father (at least until she's of age, which is likely 18).
I feel like minimal expositional dialogue will come in to bridge the gaps in her knowledge. Octavia getting told she's "just like her father" as an insult when she's not adhering to new standards.
To bring it to a head, I also like to speculate that Stella will try to arrange Octavia a marriage of her own. When Via pushes back on this, the "just like your father" line may come back. I also think Stella will deliver the final nail in the coffin of Octavia's opinion of her parent's marriage here.
My personal headcanon of the line is something like: "oh, for fuck's sake, Via. All Goetia marriages are arranged. It's not like Stolas and I ever loved each other. *laughter* Andrealphus, could you imagine? Stolas and I in love?! How ridiculous..." (mocking fades into the background as Via processes what she just heard) But this is just fanfic-level stuff that plays in the background of my brain.
Now, to skip ahead just a little. There are very few characters for Octavia to turn to. The most likely candidate for a lot of us is Loona. It makes sense, as they've already shared some screentime & Octavia got some solid advice then. And I don't disagree at all. It's a good choice.
But I like to think Octavia has something in common with someone she despises, but who could never hold hate in his heart for her.
Blitzø and Octavia have some unlikely common ground in severing connections with those they care about most through an emotional response to feeling unloved.
Octavia's song "I Will Be Okay" uses fire imagery to burn photographs to symbolize her readiness to cut off contact with her father after she came to the conclusion that he never loved her.
Blitzø set a literal fire unintentionally when his own father valued Fizzarolli over him, and likely felt that Fizz would never love Blitzø in return.
While the parallel between them isn't completely perfect, Blitzø is uniquely suited to understand a teenager who is scared, alone, and feels unloved.
We know a good deal about the circus fire, but Blitzø really hasn't spoken about it to anyone. It's unclear if he ever went into detail about it to Fizz, and he only vaguely referred to it being "traumatic" when Stolas brought up Blitzø's love of horses.
I personally like to think that Octavia will be the one Blitzø tells about it all. I think he'll obscure the details of a teenage crush to stay on-topic. But the loss of a loving parent (Blitzø's mom/Stolas) and being left with a horrible one (Blitzø's dad/Stella) is something that connects them in ways that both of them don't realize yet.
This doesn't have to fix things. Confronting traumatic events doesn't mean those events no longer happened. Blitzø carries the physical scars of his past with him everywhere he goes, and the emotional pain doesn't always heal without leaving scars of its own.
Octavia could slowly rebuild her relationship with her dad over time. It's not impossible yet. But she is slowly gaining an understanding of how things work in Goetic society; she will likely know soon that she was only born to be an heir out of precaution. So a part of her is always going to be the teenage girl who needs reassurance that she's loved, that she isn't the obligation that she thinks she is.
Sorry for another incomplete post. My thumb is hurting at the knuckle because I over-extended it the other day and it's hard to type on my phone with just one thumb.
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undertheorangetree · 1 year ago
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The Last of the Dragons
Chapter Two- The Deal
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Summary- After the disastrous bedding, the new couple tries to improve their situation.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Incest. Lots of arguing. Angst. Homegirl’s having a difficult week. Mirrors. Masturbation. Fingering. Coming in pants. Idk how else to tag that one I’m sorry. Aemond’s just helping.
Author’s Note- I promised sexier so I delivered besties. But also it’s still sad oop.
series masterlist
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She manages to remain hidden in her chambers for three days following the consummation. Though she doesn't go as far as barring the door, she may as well have, only allowing two maid servants into the room and no one else save her grandsire. She allows him in the morning after the wedding, knowing that he is too persistent to keep out. The pleasantries only last so long, with him informing her of Baela and Rhaena's plan to return to court in time for her coronation before he begins inquiring as to whether or not the consummation was successful. She keeps the details as vague as possible before managing to kick him out with complaints of sickness. It keeps him away, him and everyone else who could possibly want to see her. And she is glad for it. Though it is not fair, she blames Corlys for her humiliation and refuses to speak with him further until this shame dissipates, unsure as to how she will ever be able to look at anyone within that damned council without thinking of how they had all put her in this situation. How they had watched them, her, while she and Aemond had done their duty.
It is foolish, she knows, to remain upset. A thousand women have endured such a fate before her and she does not doubt a thousand have yet to bear it, but she is the queen now. Should she wish to sulk in her shame, there is no one in the realm who can pull her from her rooms now.
Or, at least, not many.
He gives her time, keeping his distance for nearly four nights, but she knew he would come to her eventually. Duty is the pillar Aemond has built his life upon and he would not allow it to go unattended for long. Though she had thought he would come to her during the day, that he would find the time in his rigorous schedule to knock on her door and berate her for her lack of attention, for attempting to skate her duty. It was so expected that she had prepared herself for it, steeling herself whenever she heard footsteps sound too close to the door.
She hadn’t expected him to come in through the passageways during the hour of ghosts, appearing in the mirror behind her as suddenly as a wraith.
She is forced to stifle a shriek when she catches sight of him, turning quickly to face him. It feels almost like having your back on a predator, the discomfort only growing when she catches the look on his face. Jaw set, lips pursed, looking around the room in disdain. It takes more effort than it should, to attempt to appear unaffected, but there is only one thought coursing through her mind now. That he is here to claim his rights, to do his husbandly duty. He had given her respite, likely longer than he had any reason to, and now he is here to begin what must be started.
The very thought makes her stomach sink, the consummation replaying in her head like a terrible dream, but she forces herself to steel her spine and appear unbothered, reprimanding him through the mirror.
"By the gods, Aemond, there is a door for a reason, you know. You cannot just sneak into my rooms like a thief in the night."
His mouth twitches at that, his irritation evident. "You are not answering your door. Nor are you leaving your chambers. I had almost begun to believe that you are ill."
"I am ill."
He simply hums, making his way toward her. She stiffens, whole body going rigid, but he does not touch her. Instead, his hand goes to the line of ornate bottles that sit below her vanity, each one lined meticulously. He picks up one of the bottles, uncorking it before holding it under his nose. It's a perfume, one that she had been gifted before the war by one of the lords vying for her affection. She had always liked it- a pretty thing that smelt of peaches and honey- and had used it sparingly, but his face remains unchanged as he pushes the cork back in and sets it back in the line.
"My mother has yet to leave me alone," he announces into the silence. She goes still again, not needing him to continue, but he pays her no heed. With his eye still locked on her, he continues. "She is determined to ensure that I understand the importance of conceiving an heir. Corlys as well, though I imagine he has come to visit you despite your illness."
It is her turn to clench her jaw, biting her tongue as she leans forward to fetch her hairbrush. "He has."
"Then you know why I've come?"
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Read the rest here :)
Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk @the-common-cowgirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @bunny24sstuff @helaenaluvr @eternally-passionate @herfantasyworldd @toodlesxcuddles @ashovertheriver @lokiofasgard12 @hypocritic-trash-baby
bolded couldn’t be tagged :(
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goldengalore · 2 years ago
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Neglected
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A househusband!Harry fic.
Summary: Harry has been feeling neglected and unappreciated by Y/N, and she doesn’t realize it.
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: angst, smut (sub!harry, soft dom!reader)
A/N: I woke up at 4am one morning with the urge to write this. Also listened to Tolerate It by Taylor Swift for more inspo!
***
In all the years that Harry has been married to Y/N, he has never felt neglected by her. Sure, there have been instances where her schedule became too hectic for them to spend much time together, but even then, her love and appreciation for him could be felt through her actions.
Lately though, that hasn’t been the case.
Work has been stressing her out, he can discern that much. And while she has never been one to let work stress affect her personal relationships, this past week has brought out a different side to her. A side that makes him feel small and invisible.
When she comes home, it’s like she wants nothing to do with him. She heads straight upstairs, telling him she’ll be down for dinner later. During dinner, she’ll ask their daughter, Savannah, about her day but won’t ask him. After dinner, she’ll go back upstairs without acknowledging whether the food was good or not, even when he cooks her favourite dishes. He’ll wash up in the kitchen and go up to their bedroom to find her already asleep on her side of the bed—or pretending to be asleep, it seems at times. If he tries to cuddle up to her, she’ll shrug him off and shift further towards the edge of the bed with her back to him.
He’s beginning to wonder if he unwittingly did something to upset her. Or maybe it’s all in his head. Maybe he should just suck it up. Surely, this won’t last forever and she’ll be back to her normal self soon enough…
It’s Friday now. He hopes that with the weekend on the horizon, Y/N will be in a much better mood when she gets home.
“Hi, lovie,” he greets her when she walks in through the door. “How was your day?”
She releases a heavy sigh as she slips off her heels. “Shitty, but at least it’s over, right?”
“Sorry to hear that.” He attempts to give her a hug, but it doesn’t last longer than a second before she pulls away with a tight smile.
She heads to the kitchen, dropping her bag and keys by the stairs along the way. He follows her like a lost puppy. Grabbing herself a glass of water, she collapses onto one of the dining chairs and chugs it down.
At least she didn’t go straight upstairs today, he thinks to himself, grasping for a silver lining.
She rolls her neck from side to side and rubs the back of her shoulder, wincing a bit. Harry moves to stand behind her. Shifting her hair over to one side, he starts massaging her neck and shoulders. He holds his breath, expecting her to brush him off, but instead, she reclines in her seat while he carefully presses his thumbs into the nape of her neck.
“Work has been such a pain lately,” she admits.
“I know. Could tell you’ve been stressed out.”
“It’s this new boss. She’s impossible to work with. She puts unreasonable deadlines on everything, expecting us to finish these huge, complicated tasks within days. Then, when people like me try to speak up about it, she’ll publicly shame us in front of the whole office and pile on even more work so that— Ow! Okay, H, you’re pressing too hard.” She reaches behind her to push his hands away.
“Oops. Sorry, love.” Fuck. She was finally opening up to him about why she’s been acting so cold, finally giving him more than just one-word responses or vague explanations, and he ruined it.
“It’s fine. I’m going to go take a shower.” She stands up.
“Wait,” he says, grabbing her hand.
She turns to him with a look of mild annoyance.
“Um, wh—why don’t I run you a hot bath?”
“Sure. Not too hot though, okay? I’d like to not burn my skin off.”
He chuckles at the comment, pretending that it didn’t sting a little. “Yeah, of course.”
He runs the bath and checks the temperature of the water multiple times while Y/N undresses in their bedroom. He’s about to check for a fourth time when she enters the bathroom in her white robe, which she hangs up on the wall hook. She settles into the tub and closes her eyes. Meanwhile, Harry watches from the doorway, wishing he could get in there with her and be close to her.
“Do you want me to stay?” he offers tentatively. “We can talk more about the stuff you’ve been dealing with at work.”
“Ugh, no, I don’t even want to think about work.”
“Oh. Well, we can chat about something else to get your mind off—”
“I’m not really in the mood to talk.” She opens her eyes briefly to look at him. “I’ll be down for dinner later, okay?”
Translation: Don’t bother me until dinner.
With a hollowness in his chest, he shuts the bathroom door and returns downstairs to the kitchen.
***
“Daaaaad?” Savannah calls to her father from the dining table, where she has decided to do her homework tonight.
“Yeeeees?”
“Can you help me with my homework?”
“Be right there.” He turns down the heat on the stove before walking over to his daughter, leaning over her to take a look at what she’s working on. Math. His worst enemy.
“I don’t understand this question,” she says, pointing to a lengthy word problem on the page with several multiple choice options.
He reads and rereads it a few times before attempting to solve it in his head. It seems easy enough… Until he realizes that the answer he came up with isn’t even one of the options. He asks Savannah how her teacher taught her to approach questions like this, and her explanation only confuses him even more. Math was tough when he was in school, but the way they teach it nowadays boggles his mind.
“I’ll go see if your mum can help.”
He heads upstairs to check if Y/N is done with her bath and finds her sitting at the foot of their bed in her robe, brushing her hair. The sun is setting outside. Its warm, amber glow spills through the curtains and falls across one side of Y/N’s face, casting a shadow on the other. She looks ethereal in this light, like a goddess, and he feels unworthy of her presence.
“Babe? Savannah needs help with her maths homework,” he tells her.
“Can’t you handle it?”
“I mean, I’m trying, but we both know how useless I am at maths,” he answers with a smirk, but she doesn’t even crack a smile.
“Harry, it’s grade school math, not rocket science.”
His face drops. “Well, yeah, but I— Never mind. I’ll figure it out.” He turns to leave but pauses in the doorway, turning back around to face her. “Y/N, are you… Are you upset with me? Have I done something wrong?”
He instantly regrets asking. Y/N closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose.
“No, H, I just need some time alone,” she states slowly. “Like, is that too much to ask? I can’t even have a second alone without you getting clingy and thinking I’m mad at you? It’s exhausting.”
His heart cracks for what feels like the millionth time that night. Clingy. His wife thinks he’s clingy. It’s not the first time he has been called that word. But it is the first time he has been called that word by her. And God, does it hurt like a dagger slicing through his chest.
“Sorry,” he mumbles before leaving.
He tries his best to help Savannah with the question, ultimately resorting to Google where he finds the solution posted on some forum a few years ago.
“Daddy, are you okay?” asks Savannah once her homework has been sorted.
He raises a brow at the odd, adult-like concern in his daughter’s voice. “Yes. Why?”
“You look sad.”
He forces a smile. “I’m not sad. There’s nothing wrong with being sad, of course. But I’m fine.”
She squints her big eyes at him suspiciously, drawing a genuine laugh out of him.
Kissing the top of her head, he says, “I’m going to finish making dinner, but let me know if you need anything else.”
“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”
That little token of appreciation means so much to him, he gives her another kiss on the head.
“You’re very welcome.”
***
Harry feels numb at dinner. His appetite is nonexistent. The food that he himself cooked with love and care tastes bland and flavourless to him. He has long zoned out on the conversation between Y/N and Savannah, which is completely unlike him, as someone who prides himself on being a good listener.
“H, you okay? You’ve barely touched your food,” comments Y/N. It shocks him that she even noticed.
“Daddy’s sad,” Savannah blurts out.
Y/N frowns, studying him from across the table. “Sad about what?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” He stares down at his plate and changes the subject. “Does anyone else feel like the pasta sauce is missing something? I followed the recipe to a tee and still messed it up somehow.” He shakes his head, frustrated with his inability to get anything right today.
“No, it’s perfect,” says Y/N. “As always.”
She’s praising him. So why does he feel like crying?
“Where are you going?” she asks as he pushes his chair back and rises to his feet.
“I have a headache. Going to lie down for a bit. Just leave the dishes in the sink. I’ll take care of it later.” He places his unfinished plate on the kitchen counter and leaves.
Tears are flooding his eyes before he has even reached the top of the stairs. By the time he gets to the bedroom, they’re spilling onto his cheeks. He doesn’t bother wiping them away. Instead, he just climbs under the covers on his side of the bed and lets his pillow soak them up.
It’s hard to tell how much time has passed before he hears Savannah’s voice down the hall, telling her mother goodnight, and then moments later, the light creak of the bedroom door opening, followed by Y/N’s footsteps approaching the bed. The mattress dips behind him.
“H?” she says softly.
“Hmm?”
“You still awake?”
He clears his throat and tries to keep a steady voice as he replies, “Yeah. You need anything?”
“No, just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. Just a headache.”
“Do you need anything from me? Painkillers? A cup of tea?”
How about kisses? Or cuddles? Or any kind of attention that doesn’t involve you glaring at me like I’m a waste of space? he answers in his head, but out loud he says, “I’m fine. Thank you, love.”
“You know, you keep saying you’re fine and I don’t know if I believe you.”
He doesn’t respond.
She places a hand on his arm over the covers. “Look at me.”
“I’m fine, Y/N,” he emphasizes stubbornly.
“Can you please look at me?”
He sighs. A part of him is tempted to snap at her and tell her to leave him alone, to hurt her the way she hurt him, but he doesn’t have it in him to do that. In fact, the last thing he wants right now is to be left alone. What he really wants is to be held by her, to be told that he is loved and appreciated and wanted.
When she gently tugs on his arm to make him turn around, he doesn’t resist. Her eyes scan his face, taking in the tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
“Oh, honey.” She brings a hand to his cheek. He’s been so deprived of her touch that he leans into it immediately. “Did I do this?” she asks with guilt-ridden eyes which suggest she already knows the answer to that.
“I feel like I can’t do anything right by you lately,” he says. “I just want to spend some time with you when you get home, but you never talk to me and you shoo me away any time I try to come near you. I don’t know what I did, but lately, I feel more like an annoying pest that you have to tolerate than your husband. And maybe that makes me clingy or whatever—”
“That does not make you clingy,” she interjects, shaking her head adamantly. “I’m sorry I called you that, and I’m sorry I made you feel this way. I’ve just been under so much pressure at work. That’s no excuse for how I’ve been treating you, but I need you to know that it has nothing to do with you, okay? You haven’t done a single thing wrong.”
He sniffles. “Really?”
“Yes, baby. The only reason I’ve been pushing you away is because I come home with all this pent-up frustration and I don’t want to take it out on you by accident… But it looks like I’ve been doing that anyway.” She wipes a tear from the corner of his eye and kisses him tenderly. “I’m sorry, honey.”
She gets under the covers with him and guides his head to her chest, tangling her fingers into his hair. He nuzzles his face close to her breasts. She apologizes again and reassures him that he’s the best husband she could have ever asked for, that she still looks forward to coming home to him at the end of each day, that she loves him more than words can ever explain.
Her delicate touches mixed with her comforting voice telling him everything he needed to hear soothes his aching heart. They cuddle in silence for a while, their legs intertwined with each other. Y/N shifts around a bit while keeping him close to her. When her thigh brushes up against his crotch, she freezes.
“Are you hard right now?”
“Fuck, um… yeah?” he mumbles into her chest nervously, his face growing hot.
She giggles. “Well, let’s take care of it.”
“You don’t have to.”
“No, you deserve it.”
She sits up on the bed beside him, while he lays on his back, gazing up at her, melting when she gives him a warm smile. Her hand disappears under the covers, making its slow descent into the waistband of his shorts. He gasps when she gropes him through his briefs.
“I don’t think I’ll last very long,” he admits.
“That’s okay. Been a while since we’ve done this, huh?”
He nods, gulping as her fingers trace his bulge. Although he sometimes touches himself when he’s home alone during the day or in the shower, it’s never the same as when she does it. The orgasms lack the intensity he craves.
“My poor baby,” she coos, using her other hand to scratch the top of his head. “I haven’t been taking proper care of you. We’re going to fix that this weekend.”
She suddenly removes her hand from his shorts and takes off her shirt, revealing her braless torso. The sight of her gorgeous, round breasts makes his mouth water before she even invites him to suck on them. Moving his head into her lap, he wraps his lips around one nipple and swirls his tongue around the taut flesh.
Her hand ventures back into his shorts, this time slipping into his underwear. Instead of wrapping her whole hand around him, she uses only two fingers and her thumb, running them along his length in slow, gentle strokes that make his body shudder with pleasure.
“I’m so lucky to have you, you know that? Nothing you do for me goes unnoticed, I promise you,” she says.
The reassurance brings tears to his eyes again but happy ones this time. She wraps the rest of her hand around his cock, picking up the pace and pressure of her strokes. He thrusts his hips into her hand desperately as his orgasm builds. She tells him he can come whenever he’s ready, but he tries to delay it for as long as possible until he can’t any longer. Then he lets himself go, his moans and grunts muffled by her breast.
“There you go. Good boy.” She coaxes the last few drops of come out of him.
He rests his head in her lap afterwards, dazed and breathless, hoping that she’ll let him lay there a little while longer. Luckily, that’s exactly what she does, only moving to rest her back against the headboard to make herself comfortable while keeping his head in her lap, her fingers in his hair. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
***
Thank you for reading! For more househusband!Harry and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST
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alotofpockets · 6 months ago
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Down the aisle | Leslie Shay x Firefighter!Reader
Where you and Shay go from girlfriend's to wives
Chicago Fire masterlist | Words: 1.6k
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“Kelly Severide, stop laughing at me.” Shay said in frustration. “Why? It’s funny that you have something bad to say about every beautiful ring you see.” Her best friend had been with her in the jewellery store for the past hour, not to mention that it was the fourth jewellery store they had visited in the past week. 
“The ring has to be perfect, Kelly.” He shook his head, “I know, but at this pace there aren’t going to be any rings left in the world. That girl is head over heels for you, and will say yes no matter what ring you pick. “Still I want it to be perfect.” 
They kept looking around at the ring collection this store had until Shay’s eyes fell on the one. “Oh my god, that’s it. That is the ring!” Kelly celebrated quietly behind Shay’s back. He loved his best friend dearly, but was also glad that he would finally be spending his days off somewhere other than in a jewellery store.
For Shay it had been easy to keep her thoughts of wanting to ask for your hand in marriage, but now that she had something physical to do it with, she was anxious you would find out. She had given Kelly the ring for safekeeping, but still she knew that she wouldn’t be able to keep the plan a secret for much longer. So, she changed her original plan a little bit, and decided she was going to ask you on your next date night.
Since you both worked 24 hour shifts at the firehouse, you made sure that you made time for each other on your hours off. One of the things you did to reassure you would have some time set aside was a set date night. It really didn’t matter what you did, the only thing that mattered is that you did it together. 
Today’s date night, you went to the Field Museum of Natural History. They had a dinosaur section, which is exactly why Shay wanted to bring you here. You loved dinosaurs and learning more about them. You thought the museum was amazing, and were running around showing her things like an excited little kid.
When you got back home, you were still talking about the dinosaurs. So much so that you didn’t realise the set up of your living room. Shay looked around, very happy with how her idea had played out. She had asked Kelly and Dawson to set up the “Will you marry me?” sign surrounded by a rose petal heart. It looked absolutely perfect, now you just had to look around. 
The moment that you did, time stood still. You looked at the setup in front of you with your jaw dropped, and eyes widened in surprise. When you turn to look at your girlfriend, she is down on one knee and holds out an open ring box towards you. “Yes, yes, yes!” You say with tears in your eyes. 
“You're not even going to let me ask the question?” She giggles with tears in her own eyes from your excitement. “Oops?” You laugh back. “Please ask me, darling.” 
With a big smile on her face, Shay holds your hand. “You are my best friend, and I want to spend the rest of my life by your side. Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?” 
You're now both full on crying, but in the best way. “Yes, I will definitely marry you!” You fall into her arms and sob happy tears into each other's shoulders. 
The rest of the evening was spent in the comfort of your home and each other's arms. It wasn't until the next day that you told people about your engagement. Shay sent Severide a picture with the text “She said yes!” He congratulated the both of you and invited you for a drink at Molly's.
Of course, you should have expected the whole team to be waiting for you inside of Molly’s as you arrived. All of them yelling out “Surprise!” When you walked through the door. It was nice celebrating this step in your relationship with the people closest to you, the people that had become your family over the years.
The next day where the team was back at work, the room buzzed with energy. Everyone was excited about the engagement, and was asking all kinds of questions about your plans for the wedding. Above all else, they were thrilled that the couple they had seen grow over the years, was taking the next step together.
Your day started off calm, but as soon as that first bell rang, you knew it wouldn’t be stopping any time soon. As you expected, the calls began to pile up, and the intensity grew. A handful of car accidents, a heart attack victim, and a kitchen fire kept you busy in just the morning.
There was just enough time to have some lunch, before the bells rang again. All units were called to respond to the scene, so you knew this was going to be a serious one. 
A multi-story building had caught fire, and people were still trapped inside. You rushed into truck 81 and your team raced to the scene. When you got there you realised just how far gone the building was. Flames were shooting out the windows, and thick dark clouds of smoke hung around the tall frame of the building. 
Without hesitation, you all sprang into action. “Y/l/n, you’re going up with me. The rest help Squad.” You put on your mask and ran inside, following close behind Casey. When you got up to the fire floor, there was no time for second-guessing, you had to go before the building would collapse. 
The heat and the thick smoke combined, made it hard to see anything at all. Yet you kept yelling out, until finally you heard voices respond. A family of four was hiding in the bathroom, as most of the room was engulfed in flames. 
You and Casey worked together to get the trapped family into the hall. You stood in the middle of the room, helping them over the flames, while Casey got them into the hallway. The moment that the family was out in the hallway, the ceiling about you gave way. 
One of the beams came crashing down, and pinned you to the floor. “Go, get downstairs!” Casey shouted to the family. The safest for them was to head down and meet another firefighter there, he didn’t want more of the ceiling to collapse while the family was still there.
“Mayday mayday, firefighter down on the sixth floor.” He radio’s in while he makes his way to you. Seconds after Shay’s voice is heard over the radio. “Casey, is y/n okay?” He doesn’t answer, as he doesn’t know the answer himself yet. 
“Casey, come in.” Boden requested as the line was still quiet from your end. “Getting to her now. The ceiling collapsed and she’s trapped under a beam. She’s conscious, but I need help getting it off of her.”
You were conscious and talking to Casey while he was trying to pull the beam off himself, without any luck. Luckily more people arrived to aid him, very quickly. With many hands, cribbing, and the right tools, they were able to get you out from underneath the weight of the beam quickly. 
When you got outside, one arm over Casey’s shoulders and the other over Severides, you finally felt like you could breathe again. Shay ran into your arms. “Are you okay? Let me check you out, please, I need to make sure that you’re okay.” You lift your arms from the boys and hold onto your fianceé. “I’m okay, just going to be really sore tomorrow.”
“I thought I lost you.” You shake your head. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” You joke, but you were well aware of how the situation could have ended. “Life is too short. I don’t want to waste any time.” Shay was quick to chime in, “You don’t have to convince me, let’s get married as fast as we can.”
After a long and exhausting shift, the team got together for a small firehouse wedding. It was just quickly thrown together, but you had all you needed. Your bride and your family surrounding you. 
Severide walked Shay down the makeshift aisle, while you were standing in the doors of the apparatus floor with Casey by your side. He was like a brother to you, so there was not even a question on your mind when Shay asked you who you would want to walk you down the aisle. “Are you ready?” He says as he watches your eyes meet Shay’s. “I’ve never been more ready for something in my life.”
You met Shay between Truck 81 and Ambulance 61, a small touch to give even more meaning to this day. Boden stood between you, who better to officiate your wedding than the man that had been like a father figure to the both of you.
The ceremony, while simple, was perfect. It was a day neither one of you would ever forget. After you had said your I do’s and sealed your marriage with a kiss, you carried Shay inside bridal style. 
While the day may be over, your shift was not. But for now the team would rest, and hope to be recharged enough when the next bell rang. For you the day was perfect, just because you had Shay by your side for the rest of your life.
-----
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datawyrms · 1 month ago
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12 Steps to Stop Beefing With a Teenager
Hey @katphantom69 ! Happy Truce. Hopefully you enjoy Vlad uh. Trying very hard to turn over some new leaves with some other ghostly friends :v It's all on AO3 HERE or we've got it all under the read more c:
“When you promised me an alliance that would change the status quo, I expected better than this .” Even if the ghost lacked a complete face, the gauntlet jabbing at the delicate cheese platter filled in the gaps. “This is your idea of great change and terror?”
“Eh. You might scare one of those lactose intolerant humans.” Skulker gave a smirk as the knight seemed to grow even more infuriated, flames bursting from his helmet.
“No! Do you know how many of those flock to cheese?! It is as if they think it is a dare!”
“It is for snacking.” Vlad let out a long sigh, trying to ignore the ache already starting to settle behind his eyes. “Nor are we talking about terror today.”
“Then this is a tedious waste of my time!”
“Oh, because you do so much! Slumbering in a pumpkin all year, while I, TECHNUS-”
“Skulker, I paid you to find people interested in attending. Not literally any ghost you could find!”
“They were all very interested in no longer getting shot at in return for attending. I don’t see the problem.” Skulker’s smirk only grew as the half ghost’s fingers started digging into his hair.
This whole ‘trying to be a better person’ thing was not worth it. It would be so much easier to just shoot that smirk off that metal face- or better yet remove his entire head. Really, he probably would just do that if he didn’t have the sneaking suspicion there was some sort of bet going on to who could irritate him the most!
So he had to settle for taking another deep breath. “We’re here to talk about constructive ways to fulfill a purpose. Ways that won’t get you tossed back in the Ghost Zone by an irritated teenager.”
“Well, if I could just skin the teenager we’d solve both problems-”
“Skulker, if you keep this up, I’ll have him send you back without your suit!” Vlad can’t quite keep the pink energy from gathering around his hands, but forces it to disperse.
“Why do you even care? You’re the one who suited up another teenager to kill him! Who of course, ABANDONED your WORTHLESS tech once she had a taste of REAL POWER designed by-”
The half ghost had to cut in before Technus really got his ramble on. “Why did you let her keep that, anyway?”
Technus’ rant stopped in its tracks, the scientist somehow at a loss. “Well. I was somewhat distracted with taking over the world-”
“Which failed.”
“WHICH WAS PUT ON THE BACKBURNER- and well uh. I couldn’t get control back from the suit? My genius was so great it outsmarted even ME-”
“Another stupid accident then. Wonderful.” Vlad muttered. As if it would be anything else. Half of his life seemed like an absurd accident. “How about instead of taking over the world, you could just go to a library? They have computers now.”
“Do they?” Technus actually seemed to be considering it for a moment, before shaking his head “It might not be as much fun as causing WORLD WIDE TECHNICAL TERROR though?”
“Where did you even get the idea it would be fun?”
“Says the evil overshadowing billionaire.” Skulker chimed in, earning another glare.
“Oh that’s easy! It was the ghost child’s idea! He’s very clever sometimes!”
He was going to scream. Of course it was Daniel’s fault! Why wouldn’t it be! He probably just spouted off something stupid his parents said and oops, now the inventor ghost has a world takeover hobby! Great! Thank you so much for this extra hassle!
“I am not changing anything.” Fright Knight’s ‘helpful’ contribution at least got Vlad out of his own head for a moment.
“What, you can’t get people afraid without the threat of death?”
That just got the Fright Knight on his feet and brandishing the Soul Shredder, instead of anything useful. “Are you insinuating my fear is lackluster?”
“No, he’s calling you lazy!” Skulker started cackling as the knight rounded on him, pumpkin already in hand. “Careful where you stab that thing!”
“Squash wielding simpleton…” 
“Better this than the plastic mess I dug you out of though, yeah?”
The Fright Knight refused to respond, which was probably the closest thing to agreement anyone was going to get. Did that count as progress? No, not really.
“Did anyone here come to actually try to figure something out, or should we just call it here?” Vlad couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice, almost eager to call it a waste of time and move on to something else.
“Hey! What about YOU?! You’re a ghost that causes problems too, home slice!”
Oh for the love of fondue. “I am managing perfectly well-”
“Which is why you totally paid me to set up more cameras last week.”
“That I PROGRAMED so the ghost child’s little friend could not DETECT THEM-”
“A very normal and ‘not causing problems’ thing to do.” Skulker finished with the technological tag team, kicking his feet up onto the table as if to maximize the insult.
“Hah! You seem like a much larger problem than any of us.” The Fright Knight seemed in much better spirits with someone else being criticized. “Perhaps instead of this farce of a meeting you could find a therapist.”
Vlad could only scowl more “As if I could find one willing to work with me!”
The knight’s face may not be very visible, but the half ghost could practically hear the grin in his voice. “Surely not! There are plenty of ghosts who care about health. You would have had to do something abominably stupid to scare all of them off.”
“OH OH, like WHAT?”
“Perhaps something like, ah, stealing an immensely powerful artifact? Multiple, even?”
“Or letting out the ghost king! Who’d do something so foolish and get NOTHING out of it?”
His life is a goddamned comedy routine. Interrupting might make the two keep going longer though- so he just tries to wait until they get bored.
“Or better yet, repeatedly attacking who the leading medical experts consider a saviour! In front of them, no less!” Fright Knight was failing to keep his composure now, a cackle escaping at the sheer absurdity. 
“WHY, doing even ONE of those things would be hard!”
“Imagine a ghost foolish enough to do all of them!”
This whole thing was a set up, wasn’t it? He didn’t even know which one to strangle first. “Are you quite finished?”
“MAYBE!”
“It’s only fair we get to criticize you back. We don’t go around living over here full time like you half breeds.”
“I get plenty of that without your help.” Vlad might have added more, but stopped as the door swung open to show an irritated black haired teenager. “You’re late.”
The boy rolled his eyes. “No I’m not.”
“I didn’t think the ghost child was coming! HELLO!” Technus’ loud greeting earned him a grimace.
“I’m not a child. And I’m not here for your stupid meeting.” The boy crossed his arms, keeping a fair distance away from the other ghosts. “Did you even explain me to your little tea party?”
“No. Considering you didn’t show up, I figured it could wait.” Which was perfectly reasonable! Did he want to try to explain a doomed timeline ghost that was hanging out in a cloned body? No. It was complicated enough before even touching the whole ‘oh that ghost is two half ghosts in an angst blender’ thing.
“Figures.”
Skulker stared for quite awhile before frowning at Vlad. “Okay, this was mostly a joke- but you aren’t seriously trying to replace the whelp again?” The other gathered ghosts looked amongst themselves and Vlad, a mixture of concern and anger.
“No! He’s a time anomaly thing, not a clone exactly.” Even if he was using a clone body. Which ideally the hunter wouldn’t try to pry too much into. “I’m not doing any other clone things.”
“That’s right, you aren’t.” Phantom said, blue eyes flashing red for a moment. “Instead of doing this dumb meeting, I did something actually helpful! You’re welcome.”
Oh, that was very ominous. “What do you mean by-”
The explosion that rocked the room rather cut off any attempt to finish his sentence.
“Just removed some temptation for you, old man.”
He might be trying to be a better person. Sometimes, you just had to shift into your ghost form and fling yourself at the smug little menace that blew up a very valuable research lab. Especially when the target in question clearly wanted the fight!
Skulker, the Fright Knight and Technus could only watch the two half feral ghosts tumble out through a wall.
“Do you think he’d notice if we went and stole stuff from the wreckage?” The hunter broke the stunned silence first
“Probably not!”
“That portal better still work, I want no part of whatever that is.” The Fright Knight was already moving to leave the room and the entire farce of a meeting behind.
“BORINGGGG!”
“More for us, remember?” Skulker elbowed Technus before any extra goading could occur.
“Oh! Yes! FEEL FREE TO LEAVE!”
What was the harm in leaving a little extra mess for Plasmius anyway?
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kkyaka · 1 year ago
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Summary: Running into someone who was a key part in making high school hell for you wasn't what you expected when you settled into college Pairing: Ukai Keishin x black!fem!reader Warnings: friends to lovers (kinda), college!au, a handful of angst, reader kinda overworks herself, ukai is whipped for reader, one random bad encounter with an oc, reader was bullied in high school and is still holding onto that LMFAO, making out, grinding, tit sucking, little bit of marking, fingering, i think that's it, if there's anymore please tell me ya girl is tired Word Count: 21,351 (oops) A/N: Um, it's been a while LMFAO. I'm honestly not very proud of this fic, but I wanted to post it anyway as kinda of gateway to getting back into posting my fics cause I have four more (maybe five) that I wanna post. This was a part of my scrapped follower event (RIP). Reblogs are appreciated, and thank you for reading if you do read this trash!
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The first week of classes always makes you anxious. This semester, you’ve got some classes in buildings you’ve never been in, and you didn’t get a chance to walk the campus to find them because you moved in so late. You don’t know why the apartment you moved into decided that moving in the weekend before school started was a great idea.
Luckily, you found your first class with ease, a simple elective that you need to graduate, and you hope that the coursework won’t be too hard. You got here early just in case you had trouble finding it, so you scroll on your phone to pass the time as the class fills in. None of your friends are in this class, so you’re not waiting on anybody.
By the size of the room, it doesn’t look like the class size will be that big, so you hope that the people that are taking it with you are bearable. No one is sitting at the desks around you, and that doesn’t bother you, but what does bother you is that someone sits right next to you when there were other seats open. 
You try to keep the sigh you make as silent as possible, not even giving the person a look as you keep your attention on your phone. You put it away when the professor walks in, pulling your laptop out of your backpack as she introduces herself. “Make sure you guys introduce yourselves to the people around you because you’re going to be working with them a lot this semester.”
You try to hide your annoyance, putting on a nice smile before you turn to the person that’s sitting next to you, but it drops the moment your eyes land on them. You feel something run through you that you can’t explain, grabbing the corner of your desk in a tight grip. 
“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” he laughs, but there’s not a single part of you that finds any of this funny.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you whisper, thankful that you’re in the back of the classroom so no one can eavesdrop. 
“Why so hostile? I thought we were friends.”
“We’re far from that Ukai, and you know it.” His name feels heavy, foreign on your tongue, something you hadn’t even thought about saying in months. 
Ukai Keishin. Someone that you’d never thought you’d see again. Someone who’s been haunting your past for way longer than you’d like. You thought that college would give you the chance to get away from him, and yeah sure, you picked a relatively small college, but out of all of the colleges, he picks this one? You can’t help but look over him, seeing how much he’s changed; how much he’s grown. He is not the same boy that you’ve known for so long, and you willfully ignore that part of you that wants to examine that even further.
“You’ve always been so mean to me,” he whines playfully, which makes you roll your eyes because that’s rich coming from him. 
“Answer my question,” you say, hoping that you get an answer from him, and then you just go back to ignoring him. 
“Same reason you are, no?”
“Why this one, specifically?” you press, looking around with your eyes for somewhere else you can sit the next time you have this class.
“You can ease up, alright? I’m being totally honest when I say I had no idea you would be here too.” It doesn’t sound like he’s lying, looking over his face before finding something else to do. You don’t bother to continue the conversation; thankfully, the professor gets the class's attention again. 
She asks if anyone wants to share something about the person that they introduce themselves to, and a few people raise their hands. You sigh slowly, resting your chin on your hand after you put your elbow on the desk. After a few people have shared, she goes over the syllabus, but you’re not paying attention.
Even though you’re not looking at him, the fact that you now know he’s sitting next to you, is the only thing you can focus on. You’ve never wished for a class to be over so fast in your life so that you can just get out of here without having to speak to him again. You sigh a bit, feeling like he’s watching you, but you refuse to look over at him to confirm that.
The longer your professor talks, the more uneasy you start to feel. You knew that the class wouldn’t last the whole time today since it was the first class, but you swear that time has slowed down. You see Ukai move a little bit closer to you in the corner of your eye, and you try to act like you didn’t see it.
“When’s your next class?” you hear him whisper, but you don’t answer, only responding with a quick side-eye. You turn your attention back to the front, and you sigh in annoyance, but that’s not enough to deter him because you feel a nudge at your desk. 
“Leave me alone,” you whisper, keeping your eyes forward.
“I will when you tell me.” You ball your hand into a fist, sighing again because you’re pretty sure he’s not going to mess with you anymore; figuring he just said that to get a rise out of you. You shake your head softly. It’s too fucking early for this. She’s starting to get toward the end of the syllabus, so you decide to order some food since you skipped breakfast this morning. You leave your phone on your desk while you put your laptop back into your bag, and when your eyes land on your desk, your phone is gone.
Your head immediately turns to the culprit, and he’s looking at the screen, but you can’t tell what he’s doing. “Are you a child?!” you grit, glancing at the front of the room before you try to reach for it. He’s quick to move away from you so that you can’t reach your phone, and right as your professor dismisses the class, he gives you your phone back.
You frown, thinking that he was going to put up more of a fight, and you notice how he steps closer to you when the other students are leaving the classroom, but there’s nowhere for you to move to. When the last student is out, you quickly make your way out, sliding past him when he puts distance between the two of you. 
You have a class in about another hour, so you order your food before you check to see if he did anything to your phone. Nothing looks different, and he cleared your apps, covering his tracks, so you’d have to do some digging to figure out what he did. You don’t bother to find it right now, trying not to concentrate on the fact that you will now be in the same room as Ukai.
You cross your fingers that he’ll drop the class, and you could also do that, but there’s no way you’d go through with it. You had left high school with high hopes that you would never see him again, but it’s just your shitty luck that you do. He made your life a living hell before college, and you were hoping that you could start fresh, leaving all of that behind.
But how long has he been here? You’ve been here a year already and you had no clue that he was here. And even if he was, your mom would’ve probably told you about it since she stays in touch with some of the other parents of your peers from high school. So, why were you unpleasantly surprised today?
You check to see how close your food is to being ready when you get a text. Your walking slows when you see Ukai’s name pop up, and seeing it allows you to figure out what he was doing with your phone. You swipe it away, shaking your head before you pick up the pace, but you falter when you see that he’s calling you.
You stop, stepping off to the side so that you’re not in the way of other people before you answer it. “God, what do you want?” you groan. 
“It’s only ten-thirty in the morning, and you’re already this grumpy?” he chuckles, and you ball your hand into a fist, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself.
“I’m blocking you,” you say.
“Aw, you don’t mean that, do you?” You can hear his voice more precisely this time, but it doesn’t sound like it’s coming through the phone. You turn around to see him walking up to you with a smirk on his face, phone by his ear.
You hang up the phone, sighing heavily. “What do you want?” you repeat, way past annoyed right now, and when you look back at him, you see something flash in his eyes, but it’s gone before you can figure out what it was.
“Just give me fifteen minutes, okay?” He’s lost that teasing tone in his voice, and you chew on your lip softly while you contemplate before you finally give in. 
“Fine. I’m heading to the student union to get some food,” you tell him, hoping that this will finally get him to leave you alone. You start walking, and he happily steps in rhythm right next to you. It’s pretty silent for the first couple of feet you walk, and you expected him to continue the conversation, but he stays silent.
You definitely don’t have anything you want to say to him; well, in public at least. Your mind is racing as you walk, and you’re starting to wish that he would talk to you so that you can shut your thoughts out. You can’t help but think about how he treated you when you were younger, and how most of the time he was the aid in your bullying. 
As far as you’re concerned, you didn’t think he liked you, or either he loved to make your life a living hell, and his actions justified that. But what he’s doing now is completely baffling to you. You can’t help but scoff, rubbing over your head as you smile. Who knew that your day could be turned upside down in a matter of minutes?
“What’s so funny?” he asks, making you realize that you accidentally reacted to your thoughts out loud.
“So, did you transfer, or…?” you say, not wanting to answer the question.
“Nah, I was here last school year,” he answers, shoving his hands in his pockets. You nod softly, looking at the ground. The school isn’t that small, so you may have just never run into him. But on the other hand, the school isn’t massive either, so you’re a bit surprised that you haven’t seen him.
“I’m assuming you’re majoring in something dealing with agriculture?” you ask next, meeting his gaze, and the smile he gives you makes you feel too many things, and you don’t like it.
“Horticulture, specifically, yeah,” he tells you with a nod, looking at the ground before he looks at you again. “Now, how’d you know that?”
You choke a bit, clearing your throat as you look off to the side. “I mean, who didn’t? Farming was all you talked about in high school,” you try. It’s a horrible attempt at taking the heat off the fact that you know what he’s interested in, and you know there’s no way that it worked.
“You were listening to me in high school?” he questions, and the teasing tone in his voice increases your urge to punch him in the stomach.
“It’s not like I had a choice, you and your friends talked so fucking loud all of the time.” That you say with confidence because there’s a ton of truth to that statement. He’s always been obnoxious, but with his friends, it seemed like it would always multiply. Not seeing him was the best part of your high school career. 
He laughs a bit in surprise before he nods. “Okay, I’ll give you that.” One of the bigger classes must’ve gotten out because there are a lot more people around as you walk, forcing Ukai to move closer to you. You try to shy away, but there’s no way you can move without falling off the sidewalk, so you just bite your tongue when you feel his shoulder brush against yours.
“Alright, so how’s your schedule looking this semester?”
“Hectic to say the least,” you chuckle, sighing a bit as you think about your future workload. “So, I hope this class will be the least of my worries.”
“Ah, you’ll be fine, just don’t stress too much about it.”
You scoff. “Yeah, that’s a lot easier said than done.” When you get to the student union, he holds the door open for you, and you thank him softly, picking up your pace a little, but he falls in time with your steps.
You quickly glance at your phone, seeing that your order is ready, and you’re grateful for an excuse to get away from him. “Uh, well, my food is ready, so I should probably go.” You try to turn around as fast as you can, but he must notice that you’re trying to leave because he starts talking right when you finish.
“Do you have any other classes today?” he says quickly, and you stop, trying to hide your heavy sigh.
“No,” you lie, but that isn’t enough to let him drop the conversation because he speaks up again, and you wonder why you haven’t just walked away yet. 
“You mind if I join you while you eat?” That sounds like a horrible idea, so you promptly come up with an excuse that thankfully doesn’t sound forced.
“Oh, well, I’m probably gonna go sit in the library,” you say. “Wanna make sure I’m not gonna fall behind since I already have homework.” You feel like you might be playing it up too much, especially when he squints after he hears your words.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say it sounds like you’re trying to avoid me,” he infers, and you start to panic a little bit, trying to think about how to respond.
“I’m not. I promise.” You chuckle, waving your hand out right as you feel your phone vibrate with a text. “I’ve already made plans to meet up with my friend, so…” Perfect timing, you think in your head because if that text hadn’t come through, you don’t know what you would’ve said.
He smirks at you before he nods his head. “Okay, then. I’ll let you go.” You almost curl your body forward slightly in relief, but you hold that urge back. “It was good to see you again.”
“Yeah,” you say tersely, giving him a tight smile. You awkwardly wave before you finally turn around and walk away to get your food. You don’t walk fast, but you do try to get out of there as soon as you can because you can feel his eyes on you without even having to look. 
It makes you feel a certain type of way that you don’t even want to try and tackle, so you hightail it out of there. Once you get outside, you feel like you can breathe again, but now you don’t know where to go. It’s not like you could sit inside the student union after lying to Keishin, so you look at the time on your phone to try and figure out where would be the best place to go.
Based on the time, there’s a building you could sit in and not have to worry about a lot of people being there, so you head on over there. You slide your headphones onto your head from around your neck and let the music take over the thoughts that you don’t want to hear right now as you walk.
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“It’s only the beginning of the week, and you already look like you want it to be over.” Your forehead is pillowed by your forearms on the table, and you lift your head to set your chin on your arms. 
“I had a terrible surprise this morning,” you answer solemnly. You didn’t lie to Ukai entirely. You were meeting up with your friend, but it was after your second class, and you weren’t meeting her in the library. So, it was just a tiny lie. Luckily, you didn’t run into him anymore today, but you hate how you were on high alert the whole day.
You’ve never been more aware of your surroundings, looking around when you leave the building, and making sure you’re continuously looking around as you walked to your car. You could say that you’re being dramatic, but another part of you just wants to consider it “keeping your peace” since seeing Ukai again brought back painful memories.
“What? You tripped in front of a lot of people or what?” You sit up, sighing as you lean back in your chair.
“I saw someone from high school that I thought I’d never see again.” Your friend flips through her textbook, already having homework, as she shrugs.
“So? What’s so bad about that?”
“He made my life a living hell.” Your friend perks up at that, lifting her head to give you her full attention.
“Oh, it’s a ‘he’? Is he cute?” You give her a plain look, which makes her chuckle a little. “Okay, so I need a backstory. We’ve been friends for like a year, and I don’t think I’ve heard about this guy.”
And there’s a reason for that. You would much rather leave painful memories behind, but your luck says otherwise. “Well, I would prefer to not talk about a guy that made my life harder than needed,” you start with a sigh, “but today, he acted like everything from high school never happened.”
“What does that mean?”
“He was nice to me.” You can’t help but scoff a little, laughing because it sounds like the bare minimum, but he was nowhere near acting like that back then. “I thought he hated me or something.” 
“Why do you think he hates you?”
“Because he messed with me non-stop! He and his friends humiliated me as much as they could.”
“Are you sure that it was him that was messing with you or was he just in the background?” That makes you freeze, and you slump a little at her question. If you think about it, he’s never physically done or said anything to you, but the fact that he was there, and didn’t do anything to stop it was enough to convince you that he didn’t like you. And it was enough for you to not like him. 
“What did he say to you today?” your friend asks after you’re silent for a while. 
“He put his number in my phone, and he walked with me to the student union. He said he thought we were friends.” You rub your hand over your face, resting your top half on the table again. There’s so much confusion on a Monday, and you’ve barely been to all of your classes. 
“It doesn’t sound like he hates you to me.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s making me sound like I’m fucking crazy,” you say lightly, looking at what’s playing on the TV behind your friend. “I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to butter me up or something to try and make himself look good. And then he’ll make my life miserable again once I let him back in.”
“You’ve always been so dramatic,” your friend laughs. “I’m telling you right now, that I don’t think that’s the case. He definitely would’ve acted differently, right? Did he ever talk to you in high school?”
“Barely. I caught him staring at me all the fucking time. He sometimes tried to talk to me after his friends did something to me, but I never let him speak.” Your friend is a hundred percent invested in this story, all of her attention on you instead of her textbooks.
“Okay, give me a couple of instances where you were messed with,” she tells you after she laughs at your answer. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to re-live through some of those moments. 
You tell her about the time they constantly tripped you while you were walking to your seat in a class you shared with him. You tell her about the time they started rumors about you multiple times. Now, that you’re older, they weren’t that bad, but just the thought of people that stuff about you made you hate half of high school. 
You told her about all the times you heard them whispering, knowing that they were talking about you and feeling tears welling up in your eyes at the snickers you would hear behind you. You stop soon after, biting your lip to calm yourself before your friend asks where was Ukai in all of this.
“He never said anything, and like I said, he was always staring at me whenever I looked at him.” You tell her about the times he would come up to you after class, usually after the bullying, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak, darting out of the room before he could even get your name out.
“Maybe he was trying to apologize,” she offers. “I’m not saying that I’m condoning him sitting there and letting it happen, but I don’t think he hates you like you say he does. At all.”
“Well, he had a lot of time to apologize, and he never did.” Yeah, you’re still hung up about it, and you don’t care if you sound like a child. He was a bystander and still dared to call them his friends and hang out with them after what they did to you.
“Well, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but if you wanna hear him out, I don’t blame you. But if you don’t, then you could always drop the class and find another one to fill your requirement,” she says. “But, I know you’re not gonna drop, so it’s up to you,” she tacks on, making you frown at her. She smiles at you before she goes back to your textbook, and you can’t help but copy it, standing up and making your way toward your room, but not without playfully shoving her first.
You spend the rest of your night torn between completely ignoring your friend or taking her advice. Not having homework is a good and bad thing because you don’t have anything to distract you from your thoughts. You kill the time by watching a show that you’ve already seen a bunch of times, scrolling through your phone while you sit on your bed. 
Your friend has a point, but there’s a part of you that’s spent a while trying to lock that part of your life away, and you don’t want to go through the trouble of opening it back up again. You don’t know if you’ll be able to handle it when everything you’ve suppressed comes flying out.
When your eyelids start to feel heavy, you decide to call it a night, hoping in the shower before you do your face routine. When you get in bed, you toss and turn for a little bit, hoping that your dilemma stays out of your dreams.
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Wednesday rolls around faster than you’d like, and you find yourself in that class once again in the same seat you picked on the first day of classes. You keep your headphones on as you get comfortable, having about fifteen minutes before class starts. You can feel yourself getting antsier as the class time approaches, wondering if Ukai dropped the class. 
You shrug off your thoughts, questioning in your head why you’re so worried about him in the first place. It doesn’t do much though because you feel your heart start racing when you can see someone sitting next to you in your peripheral. You don’t look, keeping your eyes on your phone, but you decide to switch your attention to your laptop.
You think the professor talks starting, so you turn your headphones off, sliding them off your head. “Good morning.” You hear it almost as soon as you take the headphones off your ears, and it nearly scares you.
“Morning,” you reply softly, glancing to the side to confirm that Ukai is sitting next to you. 
“How was your day yesterday?” he asks, and you shake your head a little as you shrug.
“Uh, it was pretty okay, I guess. It’ll be more hectic next week once my labs start,” you tell him, and it feels weird to be making small talk with him. Your friend’s words echo in your head as you ask him about his day yesterday.
“Mine was pretty okay, too. You know the first week of classes is always dragging.” You give him a nod, deciding to fully turn your head to look at him, but when you see that he’s staring right at you, you quickly look back at your laptop. 
Your professor starts talking, so you attempt to pay attention even though you’re more nervous than you’d like to be. Right as she finishes the discussion about what you’re going to be doing today, someone walks into the class. 
No one notices because they’ve all started talking to themselves in the groups that they’re in, and since you’re sitting in the back right by the door, she catches your attention. You look over her, commenting in your head how pretty her outfit is, but then Ukai quickly averts your attention to him.
“You did the readings, right?” he asks, and you squint at him.
“Did you?” you say right back, and he smiles a little which makes you think about how you’re feeling about that. 
“I did,” he answers confidently before giving you a synopsis of the reading much to your surprise. “I can’t slack off like I did in high school, so I’m trying to start early so I don’t get behind.” His words leave you a little stunned, but before you can even try and form a response, the girl who walked in late walks up to the both of you.
“You don’t mind if I work with you, do you?” She’s only looking at Ukai when she asks, and she must’ve walked up to the professor and had her fill her in on what you’re doing.
“Well, I’m working with her already, so,” he answers, and you make a face when it looks like disdain appears across her face.
“Oh, well, the professor said I could join a group,” she responds, and you can feel the air taking an awkward turn, but you have no idea what to say. Ukai sighs a little, glancing at you before he looks at her.
“Sure, one more doesn’t hurt.” She smiles widely before moving one of the desks closer to him before sitting down, and he leans towards you, which makes you lean back a little. “Are you okay with this?” he whispers.
“Uh, yeah, it’s fine,” you mumble back quickly, overwhelmed by how close he is. It doesn’t look like your words convinced him, but she’s talking to him again, so he doesn’t get a chance to make sure. While he’s talking to her, filling her in on what you’re supposed to be doing, you pull up your annotations from the readings you had to read for this class.
For about ten minutes, absolutely no work gets done because every time Ukai tries to talk to you, she interrupts with questions that have nothing to do with the work. And she’s only talking to him. You have an annoyed look on your face as you stare at your empty word document. Ukai seems to be just annoyed as you, and you truly don’t know why she’s acting like this. You don’t even know her.
You figure that you’re probably not going to get any work done, and by the conversations you’re overhearing from the other groups, they’re not necessarily talking about their group work either. It seems like there’s a lull in the conversation between her and Ukai, so you speak up.
“I like your outfit,” you say, giving her a small smile.
“I didn’t ask.” 
Keishin freezes, his fingers no longer typing on his keyboard, and your face drops. She’s giving you an ugly look, and you’re about to turn and face her, but he stops you by asking you some questions about the work. There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t decipher, but after that, he barely pays attention to her.
Every time she tries to talk, he talks over her, and it’s starting to get to you. “Ukai, it’s okay,” you say softly, and you don’t need to say it that loud because he’s practically in your space, moving over whenever she moved closer to him.
“No, it’s not,” he grits, and you never knew that fifty minutes could be so long. You managed to get some of your document filled, and you start to pack your stuff up once there are about five minutes left in class. You wish you could be out of here sooner. The girl continues to talk now that Ukai isn’t occupied anymore, and you can’t even bring yourself to look their way.
You feel a pit forming in your stomach at what she said to you, her attitude not sitting right with you, but you don’t want to say anything to her. The other part of you just wants to get out of her, and you refuse to let her ruin the rest of your day. Your professor lets the class out a little early once she sees that everyone is finishing up, and since your backpack is already packed, you quickly stand.
Ukai stands up almost at the same time you do, way faster. “So, I was wondering–” The girl is standing as well, and she’s still talking to him. 
“I didn’t ask.” You choke a bit at Ukai’s sudden response, turning your head to look away as you try to hold in your laugh, but not before you can catch her stunned reaction. You jump when he grabs your hand and pulls you out of the room ahead of everyone else. You have to walk a little faster to keep up with him, and he doesn’t let your hand go until you’re both well away from the building.
“Are you okay?” he asks, slowing his steps.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” you say. “I’m a little pissed, yeah, but I’m not stressed over it.” He doesn’t say anything in return, and the silence allows you to remember that he’s still holding your hand. 
You feel your face grow warm as you slightly tug, and he feels it, letting go of your hand immediately. “Sorry about that,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Don’t worry about it,” you say lightly even though your body isn’t taking it so lightly. You grab your hand gently, rubbing over your palm as if you’re missing the feeling of his hand against yours. 
“So, it looks like you’re done for the day,” he says without missing a beat, and you frown a bit before you quickly remember that you lied to him about your schedule. 
“Oh, yeah,” you respond slowly, wondering if you want to come clean about it. “I would be, but I do have another class in an hour. My professor canceled the class on Monday for some reason.” You don’t know why you’re telling him this, and there’s a small part of you that regrets it the moment you do.
“Really? What class is it?”
“Uh, quantitative chemistry.”
“Oof, sounds hard,” he grimaces, and you chuckle a little, shaking your head a little.
“I don’t think it’ll be that bad, hopefully. Math wasn’t always my best, but it’s stuff I already learned so I should be fine.” You try not to focus on how close he is to you as you walk, and you know there’s no reason for him to be since the foot traffic isn’t bad. “Do you have anything else today?” you ask, trying to use conversation as a way to keep your thoughts quiet.
“Yeah, I have a stats class in an hour as well,” he sighs.
“God, I do not miss taking that. I’m glad I’m done with it.”
“Lucky you then,” he jests, nudging you with his shoulder. “I absolutely suck at math, so this won’t be fun.” You open your mouth getting ready to say that you remember that from high school, but you quickly shut it. You don’t need to expose yourself anymore.
“It might not be that bad, you’re given the formulas on the exams anyways.” 
“Well, if I ever have trouble, I know to call you.”
“Right,” you mumble. The conversation thankfully stops without being awkward, but you don’t want to listen to your head right now. There’s so much going on, your brain is trying to process too much, so you try to think about where you’re going to kill time until your next class.
“Are you gonna be getting food again today?” he asks after a while even though you’re not walking anywhere near the student union. Which makes you notice that he’s just been walking wherever you’re going.
You shake your head. “No, I ate a pretty big breakfast today, so I’m just gonna find somewhere to sit while I wait for my next class.” 
“You mind if I join you?” You hesitate for a split second before you answer.
“If you want to,” you say, leaving it at that as you try not to reveal how you’re feeling. But hell, you don’t even know how you’re feeling about this.
You find a place outside since it’s nice and not too hot to sit at, and it’s an equal distance for both of you from your next class. Since you already have assignments due for your classes, you try to get a headstart on it, so you pull out your notes and laptop to get started on that. 
Ukai sits across from you, and it takes everything in you to not look at him. He’s on his phone for a while that you can see from your peripheral, but then he’s on his laptop soon after that. You get into your work, finding a groove, and you’re almost done with most of it when you hear someone call Ukai’s name.
Both of you look up, and your heart drops when your eyes land on the owner of the voice. You quickly put your head down, hoping that your undivided attention on your laptop screen will cause him not to notice you. You swallow heavily as they greet each other, and you look at the time to see that you still have twenty minutes until your class starts.
You try to pack up some of your stuff since you’re done anyway, but then you feel your body run cold when Ukai says your name. “You remember her, right?” You hesitantly look up, and you can feel all of the emotions that you’ve been trying to suppress bubble over.
The guy says your name again in disbelief before recognition goes across his face. “Wow, it is you! I almost didn’t recognize you,” he laughs, and you wait for it. “You aren’t as ugly as you were in high school.” There it is.
You barely smile at him because there’s no way you can laugh that off, and you see Ukai frown deeply, turning to the guy, you start to close your laptop. “I’m gonna head out,” you start, and Ukai tries to stop you, but the guy won’t shut up about how much you’ve changed, calling you the names he called you back then, and you can feel yourself starting to break down.
“Don’t leave,” Ukai says, catching your hand before you can put your stuff in your bag. 
“Yeah, we have to stay and catch up,” the guy buds in, and you know there isn’t a smile on your face when you look at him.
“You can go,” Ukai orders, keeping his hand on yours, and this situation is so awkward and embarrassing, but your body is frozen at Keishin’s words. The guy tries to laugh Ukai’s sudden change in attitude off, not even the slightest put off by him. 
“Come on, man. This is hilarious, no? You remember how much she–”
“I remember how much I wanted to beat your ass,” Ukai states. “Now leave before I do.” You try to keep your breathing even as you look around. No one was around to hear the conversation, but some people are looking as they walk to wherever they are going. The guy stops smiling, looking at Ukai like he’s grown a second head.
“Are you serious right now?” the guy questions incredulously as he looks at you. “Don’t tell me you’re feeling this bitch–”
Ukai is on his feet in a split second, grabbing the guy by the collar of his shirt. “You have two seconds to move your ass before I do it for you. You apologize to her now, and I never want to see your face again.” 
Your body is shaking so badly, you feel like you could cry, and you flinch a little when Ukai tightens his grip on his shirt, shaking him just a little. “I’m not playing around here. Apologize. Now.”
“Ukai, it’s okay, he doesn’t have to–” you try, but he doesn’t even look at you, pulling the guy closer to him and nearly off of his feet.
“Yes. He. Does.” 
“Okay, okay. Just chill,” the guy pleads, and Keishin lets his grip loose just a little, but he doesn’t let him go. “I’m sorry, okay?” At this point, you don’t care for his half-assed apology, but the high school part of you is feeling a rush from hearing him say those words.
“Mean it,” he says angrily, and the guy turns to look at you.
“I’m sorry,” he says, but that doesn’t satisfy Ukai.
“For?”
“For messing with you. I’m sorry for what I just said. I was just fucking around in high school, and I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I promise,” he rushes out, and you’d never thought you’d hear that from him. You’re so overwhelmed with emotions right now, that you don’t say anything, but Ukai lets the guy go with a rough shove.
“Get the fuck out of my face,” he hisses, and the guy fixes his shirt, giving Ukai a searing glare, but he walks off without another word. You take a deep breath when he disappears out of sight, and you jump a bit when Ukai’s next to you. “Are you okay? I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“I’m fine,” you breathe, finally looking at Ukai, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so worried. His hands are on your shoulders, and you give him a smile to try and lessen his worries. “I’m fine. I just thought I’d never see him again,” you say with an airy chuckle, and when you start to relax, he lets his hands slide off of you, but you’re still a little frazzled to notice how long they take to leave your body.
Ukai goes to say something, but you check the time on your phone to see that you don’t have a lot of time until your next class. “Oh, we have to go,” you say softly, packing up your stuff. Ukai stands there, watching you, and you turn to him once you have your backpack on your shoulders. “Thanks, Ukai,” you say softly.
“Of course,” he says just as softly, and you return the smile he gives you. “You go on ahead, I’ll see you on Friday.” You nod, walking off, and he watches you go. He sighs as he starts to pack his stuff up. There’s so much he wanted to say to you. 
Maybe next time.
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You’re a month into the semester, and your work is already stockpiling. You try to get ahead of it, but it always ends up catching up to you. You’ve piled up on your classes this semester, and you’re starting to hate your past self for doing that. The class you have with Ukai is the only class where the workload isn’t the heaviest, but it still takes a hefty amount of time to do the work for it. 
The readings that you have to read before class have gotten longer, and you just barely have enough time to read them. You’re dragging ass when you get to class on Monday, feeling like you might fall asleep at your desk when you sit down. You’re surprised you managed to even remember bringing all of your stuff for class today, and Ukai sits next to you as you slowly take your stuff out of your bag.
“Rough night?” you barely hear him ask, and it takes you a while to blink, your eyelids feeling like they’re tied to weights.
“Something like that,” you whisper before you rub your eyes. “My workload is a bitch especially with midterms coming up, so I’m not getting a lot of sleep.” You yawn as you rest your chin on your hand. He doesn’t say anything else, and the professor starts talking, but he keeps his eyes on you while she does.
You rub your hand over your face, even drinking water to try and keep yourself awake. You feel like you might cry when she announces that you’re going to be presenting in front of the class about the readings you’re doing. Ukai watches you make a face at her words, and then he notices that you’re still working on things all the while. 
But when the class breaks off to do work, you immediately start talking about the readings that you had to do for the class. He wants to ask about how you’re doing, but he doesn’t think he’ll get the chance. His concern is only fueled when you keep having to stop to think about what you’re saying. He ends up doing most of the work, which he doesn’t mind, and it seems like class flies by in a blur. 
You and Ukai will have to present at least twice this semester, the first presentation being next week, which means you’ll have to get started on your papers now. When class is dismissed, he waits for you to pack up your stuff, and he can tell that you’re really tired especially since you’re not walking as fast as you usually do.
“So, are you going to be free any time to work on this?” he asks you once you’re both walking outside. 
“It’s gonna have to be at the end of the week. I’m gonna try and get as much work done as I can so I can focus on this. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize, I can make it work.”
“We can try and start on it now while we wait for our next class if you want to,” you offer, and you both find a spot inside this time since it looks like it might rain, which doesn’t help your grogginess. Ukai sits next to you, but you’re too tired to freak out about it. He starts talking about the readings that you have to do, and what you could potentially write about in your paper.
You don’t know if it’s because you’ve chosen a pretty quiet spot, or if it’s his voice, but something starts to put you to sleep. Ukai can see your head bobbing every time you doze off, but he doesn’t say anything, continuing to talk about the material, and while you start to doze off again, he lets his hand gently guide it to his shoulder.
You don’t protest, going without a fight, and he looks down at you, only stopping when he realizes he’s been staring at you too long. He continues working, making sure not to move his arm too much so that he doesn’t wake you, and he opens up another document, typing up stuff that you could add to your paper.
When it’s almost time for you to go, he hesitates to wake you up because you look like you need sleep, but he knows you’d kill him for not waking you up in time for class. He gently shakes you, and you wake up with a start, looking around. You calm down instantly when you look at Ukai, looking at his laptop screen before sighing.
“God, Ukai, I am so sorry,” you say, rubbing your head. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”
“Don’t sweat it. I wrote down some ideas for you to start with,” he tells you. “I’ll send it to you later. You gotta get to class.” 
“Thank you so much. I owe you.” You don’t have to put your stuff up since you didn’t even get the chance to take anything out, and you stand up, stretching when you stand up fully. You check the time on your phone, putting a little pep in your step since you feel a bit energized as you start to walk away. You turn to wave to him as you leave, and the smile doesn’t leave his face even when you’re gone.
“Should’ve taken a picture,” he mumbles.
~
When you get home, you all but drag yourself to your room. You change your clothes before flopping down on your bed, and sleep is calling your name, but if you go to sleep now, you’ll mess up your schedule. You lift yourself when you hear a knock on your door while you let your roommate know that she can come in.
“Are you getting enough sleep?” she questions the moment she walks in. She sits down at your desk with a feigned stern look, already knowing the answer.
“I’ll try tonight. I just have a lot of work this week. And now I have to write a paper to present with Ukai next week,” you groan, and your roommate raises her eyebrows.
“Ukai? Haven’t heard his name since you mentioned him,” she says. “How’s all that going?”
“It’s going, I guess. I don’t know what you want me to say.” You think about how your head was on his shoulder earlier, and you feel your face start to warm, and your roommate notices the change.
“Yeah, okay. You’re not fooling me. What’s up with you two?”
“Nothing!” you exclaim. “I think,” you add softly, ultimately sighing in defeat, and your roommate moves to sit next to you on your bed, very invested. “I mean, we’ve been hanging on a lot during our breaks in-between classes. And I fell asleep on his shoulder today,” you say, grimacing at the thought.
“So, what? Do you like him or something?”
“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I kinda had a crush on him in high school, but it was mostly bittersweet because he was always there whenever I was being messed with. Speaking of, I saw one of the guys a while ago.”
“What?” your roommate says, her mouth open. “What happened?”
“Ukai threatened him and had him apologize to me,” you laugh which you can do now that the situation is behind you.
“Shit, girl, you don’t think he’s into you too, right?”
“No,” you respond quickly with a shake of your head. “There’s no way he likes me now or back then. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Don’t say that,” she tries. “I feel like there might be something there.”
“Maybe,” you say reluctantly. “I just don’t wanna read anything wrong.”
“I don’t think you are. I feel like he might have a thing for you. He has had a thing for you.” You try not to fall too deep into her words, but with the way he’s been acting, it doesn’t sound totally out of the ordinary. “Just keep me updated, I’m invested in your love story now.”
“Don’t call it that!” You shove her playfully as both of you laugh, and she gets off your bed, heading to the door. 
“Don’t stay up too late, okay?” she says before she closes the door. Once it gets quiet, you begrudgingly decide to start on your work, so you move to your desk, starting on your chemistry homework since that’s what’s taking you so much time.
You play some music to help you focus, and you try to get into study mode. Which takes you a lot longer than it should because your head is focused on a certain someone. You groan softly as you let your head fall on your desk. Maybe if you think about it now, it’ll help you focus.
You definitely had some feelings for Ukai back then. You thought he was really cute, he actually is still very much cute. He looks even better now than he did in high school. But you were never confident enough to even start a conversation with him all through high school. You shared the same classes, but you just kept it to yourself. Not even your high school friends knew how you felt about him.
But then those feelings started to fade a bit when the guys he hung out with started to bully you. You mostly felt anger at first, but then it turned to hurt and a little bit of betrayal because the guy you liked wasn’t doing anything to stop what was happening. And then you hated yourself for being a damsel in distress. Once the bullying seemed to die down by the time you were in your last year, you were “over” him.
You didn’t have nearly as many feelings for him, they were still there, but you sort of suppressed them. And then you attempted to get rid of them when you got to college because you were under the notion that you would never see him again. But of course, you had to run into him, and now those feelings are starting to bloom again.
You never once thought that he reciprocated his feelings, and you never talked to him because it seemed like the only time he was going to say something to you was after his friends did, and the last thing you wanted to do was talk to him. 
“Okay, that’s enough,” you say to yourself, picking up your pencil and trying to get back to where you were. Right as you’re about to start another problem, your phone stops playing music and then your ringtone follows. You pick it up to see who’s calling, and you feel your heart start racing when you see that it’s Ukai.
You were thinking about him, and now he’s calling you. You don’t wait to answer it, putting it on speaker as you set the phone back down. “You cut off my music,” you say lightly, and you bite your lip a little when you hear his laugh come through the phone.
“Sorry. I just wanted to check on you. Making sure you’re giving yourself a break,” he says, and your roommate’s words start to play in your mind.
“I actually haven’t been working for that long,” you say, but then you look at the clock, seeing how much time has passed.
“Really? When did you start?” he questions, and when you go silent, he chuckles again. “Okay, so that means you need to take a break.”
“Okay, fine,” you relent. “Is that all you were calling about?”
“Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice.” You don’t know how to respond to that, his words making you silent again. “I was having trouble focusing so I thought you might be able to help me.”
“And how would I be able to do that?” you ask, trying to calm your racing heart. 
“Don’t know,” he answers, which makes you roll your eyes. “I guess I could try and listen to music like you.”
“You should, it helps.”
“I’d rather talk to you,” he replies almost too fast.
“But I don’t think it’s helping you,” you chuckle. “It just sounds like I’m distracting you.”
“I’m okay with that.” You put your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. What is happening right now? 
“So, you called me just to distract you then?” you ask after your quick freak out.
“Yeah,” he answers quickly. “Work doesn’t seem so bad now that I’m talking to you.” 
You can’t help but laugh. “Well, obviously. A lot of people would rather be doing anything else other than work.”
He goes silent for a second, and you’re about to ask him if he’s still there, but he talks before you can. “Am I being too much of a distraction?”
You let a shy smile appear on your face as you shake your head even though he can’t see you. “No, you’re not. I like talking to you,” you say, feeling your face warm.
“Good. I like talking to you too,” he says, and you quietly laugh, but you stop the urge to kick your feet like you’re in high school. Time seems to fly by as you talk to Ukai, and you’re having such a good time that you don’t even notice that it has until your roommate knocks on your door.
“Hey, girl, I was checking on you. You haven’t come out of your room,” she says, peeking her head into your room.
“I’m taking breaks, don’t worry,” you tell her, hoping that she won’t see that you’re on the phone with Ukai. “I’ll probably finish up here soon.” That seems to be enough to convince her because she gives you a smile and a goodnight before she closes the door.
“Sorry, that was my roommate,” you tell him.
“Don’t worry about it. Glad to know you have someone that’s making sure you’re taking care of yourself.”
“Yeah, she’s like my mom,” you laugh.
“I didn’t mean to keep you on the phone this long, you probably got no work done,” he says.
“I actually did. So, talking to you helped after all.”
“Well, you’re welcome,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes. “...I don’t wanna hang up,” he whispers after he goes silent, and in your head, you agree. 
“Well,” you start. “I could call you after I get out of the shower,” you offer, and your eyes dart around to the things on your desk as you wait for his answer.
“Yeah. That sounds good. I’ll be waiting.” 
“Okay, well, I’ll talk to you soon.” You hang up the phone, and you have to get it out, so you do a little happy dance before you calm yourself down. You jump violently when your door burst open.
“I knew you were talking to him!” your roommate yells. “You can’t fool me!”
“Thank you for giving me a heart attack,” you sigh, grabbing your phone and standing up.
“So, what’s going on now? A date?” she presses, and you scoff as you shake your head.
“Absolutely nothing of the sort. I’m getting in the shower,” you say, pushing her out of your room so you can get ready.
“Yeah, okay. You better keep me posted,” she tells you again, and you shake your head before closing the door. 
You shower quickly, washing your face, and brushing your teeth before you get in bed. You wait for a little just in case he might be showering too, and it takes you a while to even call him at that. Your finger hovers over the call button in your recents until you finally press it. It doesn’t even ring twice before he picks up.
“I missed you.”
“It hasn’t even been that long,” you say, a laugh leaving your chest against your will.
“Doesn’t matter,” he tells you softly as you start to get comfortable. “You laying down?”
“Yes, I am. I might fall asleep on you if I’m being honest,” you say, a yawn following right after.
“That’s okay. You need to get your sleep.” 
Ukai ends up doing most of the talking which is fine by him, and he can’t help but smile to himself when he hears your responses turning into soft hums. A part of him wishes he would’ve video called you so that he could see you, but he’ll take this for now. He stops talking once he can hear you softly snoring, but he doesn’t hang up. 
Sleep is right behind him, so he rolls over on his side, getting more comfortable. “Goodnight,” he tells you even though you can’t hear him, and it’s not long until he’s asleep himself.
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You had gotten enough work done this week that you had enough time to work on your presentation with Ukai. You decided to meet up at his place this weekend, and you feel so conflicted with yourself as you stand in front of your mirror trying to figure out what to wear.
“Why am I being like this?” you mumble to yourself. You’ve been trying to tell yourself not to worry about it and just put on some clothes, but there’s a part of you that has too much of a say to let you do just that. You’ve put on and taken off so many clothes, the pile on your bed and floor only increasing. 
You don’t have time for this, having only about twenty minutes before you have to get there. Ukai lives pretty close to campus while you have to drive back and forth between your apartment and campus. That’s something you and your roommate hate, so you’re currently looking for a new place for next school year. 
You groan out loud as the voice in your head tells you that you don’t like the outfit you have on. You jump when you hear a knock on your door, and the familiar sight of your roommate peeking her head in fills your eyes. “You okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” you say, but she’s always been good at reading you, and she frowns before pushing the door open further. Her eyebrows crease when she sees that your room looks like your closet exploded. 
“You’re worried about what you’re wearing? You going somewhere special or something?” she questions instantly, but even the question doesn’t give you enough time to come up with a lie, because she quickly puts two and two together. “Don’t tell me you’re going on a date.”
“It’s not a date,” you emphasize. “We’re just working on a presentation we have to do on Monday.”
“Well, where are you meeting him?” she asks, and you look away from her, hesitant to answer. “His place?” she says when you don’t respond, and your reaction to the next question is all she needs to know the answer. “This is news to me! Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“Because I knew you were gonna make a big deal about it, and I didn’t wanna psych myself out.”
“Okay, okay. Relax, y/n,” she says, putting her hands on your shoulders. “There’s nothing to be worried about. I won’t make a big deal about it because it isn’t if you think about it. It’s just two people working on a project,” she offers, and that perspective does make you feel better. “It’s only a big deal if you make it, and it’s not like it’s gonna be awkward. You both have been in close proximity before,” she adds, and you admit in your head that she’s right.
“I guess you have a point,” you say, but you’re still looking around at all of the clothes you’ve put on. 
“But, I can help you with an outfit,” she smiles, and you roll your eyes. 
“You just said it wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“Okay, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t dress up a little. You’re going out, why wouldn’t you?” she says, and you chuckle a bit, starting to consider if her words are a contradiction to what she just said, but you let her do it anyway. 
While she’s going through your clothes, you quickly text Ukai to tell him that you’re running a little late, and you can’t help but smile when he responds almost instantly telling you it’s no big deal. Maybe you are overthinking this whole thing. 
“Okay, here ya go.” You look up to see her holding one of your worn t-shirts, and some shorts, but when you look at which ones she’s holding, you put your hands on your hips.
“I am not wearing those shorts,” you tell her, taking the shirt from her and slipping it on. 
“Why not? It’s hot outside, you don’t wanna be sweaty when you get there,” she tries, but you’re not buying it.
“I only wear those around the house,” you argue.
“And you will be around the house! His house,” she says, and you’re starting to realize that you don’t have time for this, but you know that you won’t be able to pick out anything else to wear.
“Fine. I’m only putting them on because I don’t have time,” you say, taking them from her, and she walks out to let you change into them. They’re not that short, but they’re short enough, and seeing that you only have about ten minutes to leave, you can’t waste time debating over what to wear.
You put your shoes on, making sure that you have everything before putting your backpack on. You walk out, tugging on the shorts when you feel like they’re starting to ride up, and you all but glare at your roommate as you walk towards the door. 
“Have fun!” she beams, and you squint your eyes at her.
“Mm-hmm,” you mumble. “I’ll be back later tonight.” You both say goodbye, and you close the door, locking it behind you, putting some pep in your step on your way to your car.
You know where his apartment is, so you make your way over there, and you try to repeat your roommate’s words in your head when you feel yourself starting to get nervous. You know there’s no reason for you to be nervous, but you can’t help it. You know that you’re feelings for him are starting to come back, and there’s a part of you that’s trying to fight it, but so far, suppressing things hasn’t been the easiest thing to do.
Your roommate swears that he’s into you, which doesn’t really help your case, but those words alone are enough to make you sweat. You don’t know how you would feel if he felt the same way. You’ve felt something for him for almost all of high school, and if you think about it, those feelings never really left when you got to college. 
You text him as soon as you park, and he meets you outside of his apartment. “Sorry, I’m running late,” you tell him when you get to him.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, and you follow him into the building and up the stairs to his apartment. You pick at your phone case as you will your heart to stop racing because you know it’s not from taking the stairs. 
You follow him inside, and you look around, taking in the room. He mentioned having a roommate, but he said he wouldn’t be here while you guys were working. You take your shoes off once you get in, and you see that he already has everything set up on the dining table. It almost has the same layout as your apartment except it’s much nicer. In the back of your head, you think to mention this place to your friend and see if she’d like it.
“Okay, so I’ve already finished my paper, but I wanted you to read over it just to make sure that ours don’t overlap,” he says when he sits down. 
You sit down in the chair next to him, taking your backpack off so that you can get your laptop out. “That sounds good, but I’ll admit I haven’t written most of it,” you admit shyly, and he waves you off.
“That’s okay. It shouldn’t take you that long anyway,” he reassures, and you pull up the half-written document. You read over his, and you’re relieved that he ended up talking about something completely different from yours. You tell him what you want to talk about for your presentation, and he helps you out by pulling up the reading and offering what parts of it you could pull from. 
Writing your paper takes about an hour, and then you both work on the PowerPoint slides you have to have with questions to ask the class about the readings. Your stomach grumbles suddenly once you’re finishing up, and that’s when you remember that you forgot to eat while you were panicking about what to wear.
“Sorry,” you laugh, and he laughs under his breath.
“I’m getting hungry too,” he says. “There are places around here that we could eat at if you’re okay with that.”
“Yeah, I’m good with that.” You both put your shoes on, and you follow him out onto the street, and there’s a bunch of places that are within walking distance where you could eat. You don’t care where to eat, so you agree on the first place that he offers. You’ve never been there before, but Ukai reassures you that it’s good. You both talk about anything and everything as you walk to the place, and when you get inside, it’s super packed.
“I guess it is dinner time,” he says as he takes the place in. “We can just take it to-go if that’s okay with you?” he offers, and you nod, in no mood to oppose as you look at how many people are in here. Ukai orders first, and instead of paying, he turns to you. “What do you want?” he asks, and you tell him, but then he’s repeating your order to the person at the register, and you realize what he’s doing.
“Ukai, you don’t have to pay,” you try, but he just shrugs you off. You try to memorize the price as you both move to the side while you wait for your food. “I’ll pay you back.”
“Seriously, y/n. Don’t worry about it,” he tells you again, but you don’t look very convinced. “How about you pay me back by helping me with my stats homework?”
“That doesn’t sound like a fair trade.”
“It does to me. I didn’t do well on the first exam, and I need some serious help,” he explains, and you decide that he’s not going to let you pay him back, so you give up.
“Fine. I’ll help you out then.” The smile he gives you makes your heart flutter, and you don’t get much time to take in how you feel because your food is ready. 
You walk back to his apartment, and you silently thank your friend for picking out shorts because even though the sun is starting to go down, the air is still really warm. You aren’t walking that fast, so luckily you’re not a sweating mess when you get back to his apartment. 
You push your work aside so that you can eat at the table, and he puts on a show that he’s been watching for a while. You’ve never seen it, and when you tell him, he looks at you like you’ve offended him terribly. He starts the show over for you, and it seems like a pretty good show, and you make a note of the name so you can continue to watch it. 
You finish eating in the middle of the first season, and you both move to the couch so you can finish it. Ukai tells you that he’ll start on the work once it’s over, and you wonder if he actually means that. Your focus on the show starts to waver when you notice how close he’s sitting to you. He’s wearing shorts, so when his leg brushes against yours, it sends goosebumps across your skin. You try to pay attention because you don’t want to miss anything, but it’s even more difficult when he places his arm on the back of the couch behind you.
You don’t think it’s a cliche move because you look at him from the corner of your eye, and he’s completely engrossed in the show even though he’s seen it probably a million times. You realize how tense you are, and you try to relax, but that means you’d be relaxing into him, and you don’t want to make anything awkward. 
You decide to rub over your arms since it’ll keep you from touching him. “Are you cold?” he asks, and you turn your head to him quickly.
“No, no. I’m fine,” you say with a shake of your head, and you quickly turn back to the TV, but you can see him looking over you, so you put your hands on your lap. He finally follows your gaze, and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
The last episode of the season plays, and Ukai groans loudly. “Guess I have to do my homework now,” he says to your surprise. You guess he was serious about actually doing his work. 
“Can I use your bathroom?” you ask, standing up and feeling relieved that you’re not sitting directly next to him anymore.
“Yeah, my room’s right there,” he says, pointing at the right door. He’s been fighting it since you got here, but he watches you walk away, and his eyes slide up your legs. He can see some of your ass peeking out from your shorts before you pull them down, and he sighs softly to himself as he diverts his eyes. 
He turns his head quickly before he stands and turns the TV off. He sits down at the table while he gets his stuff out, and he hears you come back into the room. You sit down next to him, and he shows you one of the problems that he’s struggling with. You move your seat closer to his so that you don’t have to lean over, and he immediately thinks about how good you smell.
He noticed when he was sitting next to you, and that’s when he also noticed that he had put his arm behind you. He didn’t move his arm because he didn’t want it to be awkward, but he had to strongly fight the urge to pull you into him. He felt his hair stand up on end whenever he accidentally brushed against you, and the entire time he thought about if he should say something to you.
“Keishin.” His eyes snap to yours, realizing that he was just staring at his notebook. “Are you okay?” you ask softly.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I just got lost in thought,” he says, giving a smile so that he doesn’t have to explain that he was daydreaming about you.
“Don’t worry about the exam. I’m sure you’ll do fine.” 
“Of course, I will. I have you to help me,” he says, thankful that you think he’s stressed about the exam. His smile widens when yours does, and he feels so much right now that he almost opens his mouth, but then you’re turning your attention back to the work. So, he clears his thoughts and decides to focus on his work too.
He’s relieved when he realizes that he’s not doing as bad as he thought, he was just having some trouble remembering when to do what. You have him go over it multiple times, and it helps, and when you think he’s ready, you have him try some practice problems.
He’s definitely nervous to try them out, but your reassurance is what gets him to try them. You busy yourself with some other classwork, and he’s grateful because he doesn’t know what he’d be able to do if you were watching him. He makes sure to check over his work, even putting his work through the calculator more than once to make sure that he’s getting the same answer as before.
He lets you know that he’s finished, and his professor added the answers to the questions, so you look over his work and the answers. He fiddles with his pencil in nervousness and anticipation as he watches you check. It feels like it takes forever and it almost kills him, but then you finally look up at him.
“You did really well! There’s a couple that you messed up on, but other than that, I’d say that you’d got this stuff down.” He takes a breath of relief, running his hand down his chest as he leans back in his seat.
“Thank God,” he breathes. 
“You just have to trust yourself. You know what you’re doing, just don’t get nervous,” you tell him. “I know when I do that, I end up freaking myself out so much that I start to forget things.”
“Thank you so much. I owe you one.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s definitely not something I understood at first, so I’m happy to help.” At your words, for some reason, he feels like you might be about to leave, and he selfishly doesn’t want that to happen.
“Do you mind checking over my work again? I wanna go through some more just in case,” he tries, and he tightens his grip on his pencil, hoping you say yes.
“Of course. While you’re working, I’m getting work done too, so it’s a win-win,” you answer, and he’s never felt more elated. He nods, getting to work on more problems, and you switch your attention back to the work you were doing. 
You get up to go to the bathroom again, and you stretch when you do, and Ukai’s eyes catch on your shorts again. He diverts his eyes as soon as you walk out of his line of sight, and he shakes his head. Focus. He sighs, getting back on track, and finishes the problem with ease. He gets to the next one though, and he’s stuck.
He tries to do it himself, but when he feels like he’s not doing something right, he stops so that he doesn’t get too far ahead of himself. Luckily, you come back when he stops, so he asks you right before you sit back down.
“I just wanna make sure I’m starting this right,” he says, and you put your hand on the back of his chair before you lean down to see what he’s doing. You lean down a little bit more to look at his work, and he holds the urge to flinch when your shirt brushes against his ear. He takes a deep breath in, your scent filling his nose, and he desperately wants to know what it is. 
He thinks it might be like shea butter or something but before he can get a chance to investigate further, you break him out of his thoughts. “Yeah, you’re fine. Looks good to me,” you say, and he makes the mistake of turning to look up at you.
He was going to say something, but the words die in his throat when he looks at your face. He gets lost in your eyes and the curve of your lips, and he can’t look away. He looks back at your eyes, and to his surprise, you’re looking at his lips too. He has half a mind to just say fuck it and lean in, but then he feels you rub at his back.
“Have more confidence in yourself, Keishin,” you say, smiling at him before you move to sit back down. He’s glad that there doesn’t seem to be any awkward air between the two of you, and he realizes that his heart is racing when he looks back at his work. It feels like the motion of your hand rubbing his back is burned into his skin, and he would give anything to feel it again.
Ukai yawns as he finishes the last of the problems, and he passes the notebook to you. He rubs over his eyes as you look over them, and it doesn’t take you long to look through them. “You did great. You got all of them right,” you say with a yawn.
“I guess we better call it a night,” he says around a laugh that you copy, but then he looks at the time. “Shit, I didn’t mean to keep you here so late.”
You blink sleepily as you yawn again, looking at the time. “Oh, God. I didn’t even know I was here for that long,” you hum.
He once again doesn’t want you to leave. “You can sleep here for the night if you want, I’ll sleep on the couch,” he offers, and at the same time, you look like you could fall asleep any minute now.
“I couldn’t take your bed,” you try, but you end up yawning again.
“Seriously. It’s the least I could for keeping you here so long.” He’s really tired himself. He woke early this morning to make sure that his apartment was spotless. He’s never done so much cleaning, but he won’t tell you that.
Surprisingly, you don’t put up much of a fight, but he can’t really blame you. “Alright,” you say. “Do you have an extra toothbrush?” 
“Yeah, of course. Just let me use the bathroom first,” he answers, and you give him a nod, turning to your work to finish it up. He mildly panics when he gets to his room because he didn’t think about changing his sheets. He quickly uses the bathroom, brushing his teeth after, and tries his hardest to change his sheets as fast as he can. 
He’s nearly sweating by the end of it, but he can proudly say that he set a record for himself. He kicks the dirty sheets into his closet before grabbing the toothbrush and setting it on the bathroom counter. If you noticed that he was gone for so long, you don’t question it, which he’s grateful for even though he prepared a lie just in case. 
“My room’s all yours,” he jokes, and you can’t help but laugh before you stand. You yawn again as you stretch, and Ukai finally fights the urge to look over your body again. 
“Are you sure it’s okay if I sleep in your room? I can sleep on the couch, I don’t mind.”
“Yes, it’s fine. You look more tired than me right now. I’ll be fine,” he says, and you give him a sleepy smile that only strengthens his words. 
“Well, thanks. Goodnight, Keishin.”
“Goodnight,” he echoes, and there’s a part of him that’s ecstatic that he gets to say it to you in person, and he ignores the pang in his chest that he can’t be laying next to you as he says it. You walk to his room, and he watches until you softly close the door. He already grabbed a pillow from his bed before he walked out, so he throws that onto the couch.
He has a blanket on the couch, so he lays down, throwing it over himself and he tries to get comfortable. This couch isn’t the most comfortable, and he’s fallen asleep on it before, but there was no way he was going to ask you if you wanted to share a bed with him. He finds himself thinking about what would’ve happened if you had said yes.
His thoughts start to derail right after that, and he groans before deciding to turn on the TV. It’s the only way he’ll be able to keep his thoughts at bay. He turns the volume down, and he puts on a show that he can fall asleep to. Of course, it only works for so long. He hasn’t heard you say his first name at all. Today was the first time, and he can’t help but smile widely at the thought. 
He always wanted to say something to you in high school, but you never gave him the time of day. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t blame you at all. His friends weren’t kind to you at all, and he doesn’t even think he would call them friends. His real friends were in different classes with him, and he really only hung with them after school or on the weekends.
There were times that he told them to stop messing with you, and they took it as him having a crush on you, which was very much true, but he didn’t want that getting out, so he kept his mouth shut. Seeing you again and spending so much time with you has made him realize how stupid he was. He was more worried about himself than you, someone that he really liked, and he hates himself every time he thinks about it.
He hopes one day he’ll get the courage to tell you everything. Right now, he’s more than content with having what he has with you, and he doesn’t want to say anything to ruin that. He definitely wants to come clean about high school, there’s no doubt about it. But there is doubt if you’ll even talk to him after he reveals everything.
He plays back your first interaction in his head every night before he goes to sleep. At first, it kept him up at night. You had every right to act as you did towards him, and he tried to play it cool while he was with you, but after you left, he felt like total shit. He put his number in your phone to see how you would react, and he was more than relieved when you kept talking to him.
As he starts to fall asleep, he thinks about what he’s going to say to you. He hopes that when he finally gets the confidence and the chance, he won’t mess it up. He tries to rehearse it in his head, but he falls asleep as soon as he starts.
He doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep, but as he starts to wake up, he hears a familiar voice. “Dude, why are you sleeping on the couch? Get in your bed.” He recognizes that it’s his roommate, but that’s about all he can register. He was a lot more tired than he thought. 
He groggily makes his way to his room, and even in the dark, he can easily locate his bed, like it’s calling to him. He sheds his shirt and nearly sighs in comfort at the relief he feels when his body hits the bedsheets. He notices that he can’t stretch out like he wants to, but he’s starting to fall asleep, so he doesn’t worry about it that much. His bed also isn’t cold like it should be, but he gladly accepts the warmth, wrapping his arm around the pillow, and it takes no time for him to fall back asleep.
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Ukai notices that the sun is peeking through the blinds as he starts to wake up. He takes a deep breath in, and he swears his nostrils fill with your scent, but this time he’s getting something different. Mango, maybe? He leans further into it, taking another deep breath, and whatever the source may be is soft against his face. He could stay here forever.
He tightens his arm around his pillow, settling in again as the smell starts to put him back to sleep. But he frowns when he faintly notices that his pillow is moving. He slowly opens his eyes, and his heart drops when he realizes that it hasn’t been a pillow all along. His eyes widen when he sees you laying in his arm, and his heart begins to race. 
You’re looking right at him, but there’s nothing that can come out of his mouth. You’re just waking up too, and you blink a bit, but there’s no hint of surprise on your face. “Keishin?” you whisper, and he never thought his name could sound so good coming from you.
“Y-Yeah,” he mumbles, and he can feel his face warm at his stuttering, but he gives himself a break because he’s just waking up. You roll over so that your back is fully against the bed, and you rub over your eyes. 
“What time is it?”
“It’s only nine-thirty,” he says after he looks at his clock, and you groan softly.
“God, that is too early for a weekend.” He smiles at your sleepy state, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. You raise your arm over your head to stretch, and he notices that your shirt rises, and he can’t help but let his eyes trail down your body. His breath catches in his throat when he sees how high your shorts have ridden up, and there’s only one thing on his mind.
His eyes cut towards you when you call his name again, and he’ll blame his tired brain later, but he leans down closer to you. “Am I dreaming?” he questions, and his hand is itching to touch you, so he carefully puts his hand on your face.
“I don’t think so,” you whisper, and he can barely hear it over the blood pumping in his ears. He glances down at your lips when you lick over them, and there’s no way he’s going to be able to stop himself now.
“Good.” When you don’t make any move to pull away, he takes the opportunity to press his lips to yours. He sighs at how soft your lips are, and he only gets more eager when you kiss him back. You said he wasn’t dreaming, but this sure feels like he is. He pulls away only for a second, missing the feeling of your lips almost the instant he does.
He goes in for another, and you let your arm loosely loop around his neck as you meet him halfway. He groans when you deepen the kiss as you roll over onto your side, and he grabs your leg, putting it over his body. He’s borderline frantic to feel every part of you, and he lets his hand run up your leg, his fingers just barely getting under your shorts.
You move in closer to him, so he allows himself to let his hands drift up further, and your shorts have moved up so high, that they barely get in the way of him feeling even more of your ass. You moan when he pulls back with your lip in between his teeth, and he’s never felt so hot. He stops for a second to look at you, and your heavy breathing is the only thing that can be heard in the room.
Your lips are swollen from his kisses, and your pupils are blown wide as you look up at him, and he thought there was no way you could get any prettier, but right now, you’re proving him wrong again. “Fuck,” he breathes before he leans back in, rolling the both of you over while keeping your leg in his hand.
Your hands rub all over his chest, and you run your hands up his back, and he shudders at the motions, goosebumps rising all over as blood rushes straight to his dick. Your arms find their place around his neck, and he abandons his hold on your leg in favor of letting his weight press into you.
He pulls away to quickly pull your shirt off, and you easily let your upper half lift off the bed so he can do so. His movements slow when his eyes land on your chest, your boobs are basically falling out of the bralette you’re wearing, and his brain short circuits. He can’t think about anything else, and he swallows heavily when you pull the straps down, fully exposing yourself to him.
He lets your shirt fall next to you, and like he’s in a trance, his hands reach up to squeeze at the underside of the fat, and he wants to pinch himself. There’s no way he’s really doing this with you, but he’ll worry about this being a dream later. He kisses you again, feeling like that’s the only way he can regulate his breathing right now as he continues to fondle your tits. 
He kisses down your neck, feeling like he might go crazy as he kisses over your chest before he slips one of your nipples in his mouth. He moans when you do, his name slipping from your lips as your hands slip into his hair. He ruts against you, and he’s definitely drooling as he sucks at your chest, but he doesn’t even care.
You pull him back to your face, and he kisses you sloppily, your legs wrapping around his torso when he grinds even harder against you. “K-Kei,” you keen, and he rests his forehead against yours, his pleasure becoming too much for him to continue to kiss you. You arch into him, and he swears when your chest pushes into his. He’s definitely close to cumming, feeling his pleasure start to mount in his spine, and he digs into his teeth into whatever part of your skin he can reach to try and hold himself back as he pulls at your shorts.
Right as he does though, his burst open, scaring the both of you. Ukai quickly falls on his side to hide you, and he looks over his shoulder to see his roommate standing in the doorway. “What?!” he barks, and the guy holds his hands up.
“Sorry, dude,” he laughs before quickly walking back out, slamming the door when he leaves. Ukai doesn’t even want to look at you, the air now becoming awkward in the silence. He slowly turns his head towards you, and when he makes eye contact, you can’t help but laugh. He internally sighs in relief as he laughs with you, and yours dies down when your phone starts ringing.
He hands it to you, and you give him a small smile as you answer it. He doesn’t listen to the conversation because he’s too busy looking at you. His eyes stay on your lips while you talk before they trail down to your chest, and he can see the marks he left on you which causes him to twitch in his shorts.
“Sorry, I totally forgot. I’m leaving right now.” That makes him look up at you, and you hang up the phone, taking a while to meet his eyes. “I forgot I had plans with my roommate today. That was her,” you tell him, and he pushes down the disappointment that he feels, and he thinks that he hears it in your voice; at least he hopes so.
“No, that’s okay. I should probably see what my friend wanted,” he responds, and you quietly grab your clothes and put them back on. He moves over so that you can get out of bed to get to the bathroom, and he releases a heavy breath through his mouth when the door closes.
He runs a hand through his hair as he tries to think about what in the fuck got into him, and he wills his hard-on to go away. He gets off his bed, sliding his shirt on right as you open the door, and he goes in after you. He doesn’t even try to look at himself in the mirror while he brushes his teeth, and when he walks back out, you’re standing by his bed, looking at your phone.
You look up at him when he walks into the room, and he pulls his shirt down to cover himself. “Sorry, I have to leave so suddenly,” you say, and he waves you off.
“It’s okay. We got a lot of work done yesterday, so it’s all good.” You give him a little nod, and he quickly decides to walk towards the door so things don’t get awkward. You follow him out of his room, and his roommate is sitting on the couch when you walk out. He looks over his shoulder just as your grabbing your backpack.
“Sorry for interrupting earlier,” he laughs. “I’m Takinoue.”
Ukai glares at him as you feel your face warm. “Nice to meet you. I’m y/n,” you say softly, and Ukai’s eyes widen when Takinoue’s does.
“Wait, you’re y/n? The girl that–”
“She really has to go, so end of the introduction,” Keishin rushes out, and he pushes you towards the door. While you’re slipping your shoes on, Ukai smacks his friend on the back of the head, but before he can turn around, he’s already slipping his shoes on and walking with you out the door. 
Neither of you speaks as he walks you to your car, and he doesn’t know what to say when you finally get there. “Uh, thanks again for the help last night. I really appreciate it,” he eventually says.
“You’re welcome. Just let me know if you need any more help,” you tell him, and that reassures him a bit that maybe you didn’t hate what you both did earlier. But now, he doesn’t whether to wave, hug you, or kiss you. He definitely wants to do the last one; his hands are itching to touch you again, but he doesn’t know if you’d be okay with that.
You break him out of his thoughts when you take a step closer to him and kiss his cheek. His world seems to stop when you do, and you pull away, having a hard time holding his gaze. “See you on Monday, Keishin.”
He’s too dazed to respond, barely remembering you getting in the car, and the next thing he knows, you’re driving away. He doesn’t jump out of it until your car is long out of his sight, and when he finally does, he smiles widely against his will. He softly touches his cheek, and he doesn’t lose the smile on his face as he walks back to his apartment.
But it drops the moment he opens the door and sees his friend’s smug smile. “You weren’t gonna tell me that you’re sleeping with the girl that you’ve been pining over since high school?” he questions, and you Ukai shakes his head as he rolls his eyes.
“We’re not sleeping together, okay? We were just working on a project last night.”
“For what class? Anatomy?” he jokes, and it actually makes him laugh.
“Ha! Good one,” he muses. “But we finished really late, so I let her take the bed. That’s why I was on the couch.” He rubs his hand down his face as he sighs, but it doesn’t take long for him to smile again.
“Well, it looks like you should’ve just taken the bed anyway. You look like a lovesick puppy.”
“Fuck you,” he retorts with no heat behind it, but it’s not like he can deny it. He’s still not sure if he’s dreaming or not, and in the back of his head, he’s waiting for himself to wake up. 
“So, what happens now? Are you actually gonna confess to her? You’ve only been waiting for this moment for like, five years.” He hates how he still can’t answer that question. With the way everything is going, he’s thinking that it’ll be better to not tell you the truth, but on the other hand, he wants to come clean to you and tell you everything. And Takinoue’s right, he’s been waiting for a miracle, and it’s finally here.
He thought he would jump at the opportunity, but with the first interaction he had with you, he held back. “I don’t know,” he eventually says.
“Don’t stress it too much, man. As far as I’m concerned, it looks like she feels the same way,” he says, with a hard clap on his back that makes him stumble forward a bit, and it definitely feels intentional. At least now he knows he’s not dreaming. “And that also explains why the apartment was spotless when I got home. Now where’d you put my shit?” he asks, and Ukai lets himself drop his dilemma for now.
~
When you get home, you close the door behind you and let your back fall against the door. Even if what happened with Ukai was long ago, your heart is still racing just thinking about it. You don’t know what came over either of you, but there’s not a single bone in your body that hated it. You rub your fingers over your lips as your mind starts to replay the events in your head.
You jump when your roommate opens her door, and you quickly stand up. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” you say. “It was really late, so I just slept over at his place since I was so tired.” You try to school your expression so that she doesn’t pick up on anything, and you hope the look on your face is convincing enough.
“So, did anything happen?”
“Ah, no. We just worked on our presentation, it was pretty uneventful,” you say, and to be honest, you’re a little bit embarrassed to admit to her what happened. Maybe it’s because you’re still reeling from it. “Just let me hope in the shower, and I’ll be ready to go.”
Surprisingly, she lets you walk past her without saying anything else, and when you get to your room after closing the door, the events of this morning start to hit you. You go from sitting in shock to flailing in one spot just to get it out of you. You take a deep breath, composing yourself before you get in the shower.
Your shower takes a little longer than you anticipated because your thoughts keep running from you in all the wrong ways. You throw some cold water on your face when you get out, telling yourself to get it together. You get dressed, and your friend is waiting at the dining table for you when you walk out.
She looks up from her from, and her words die in her throat when she looks at you. You frown when her smile disappears, and she points an accusing finger at you. “You bitch! You lied to me!” she yells, and you’re still very much confused until you look down at your chest where she’s pointing. Your eyes widen and you feel your face warm when you see hickeys all over your chest. 
You don’t know how you didn’t notice until now, but thanks to the low-cut shirt you’re wearing, you almost showed everyone what you were up to this morning. “Um…” you say weakly, covering your chest with your hands. “I’ll go change and we can get out of here,” you try, but you don’t even get to take a step back before she speaks.
“Absolutely not, missy. You sit your ass right here and tell me everything.” You sigh, knowing that she’s going to get it out of you sooner or later, and you sit down across from her. She looks so invested, resting her hands on her face as she leans forward. “So, did you guys sleep together?”
“No,” you start with a shake of your head before you shrug. “Well, kinda. It was really late, and I was tired, so he said I could sleep in his bed. When I woke up, he was there, and…stuff happened.”
“What happened?! Tell me everything!” she presses, and your face gets even hotter just thinking about it.
“We just made out,” you eventually say. “His roommate walked in, so it didn’t go much further than that.” Honestly, you don’t know what you would’ve done if his roommate hadn’t interrupted. You probably would’ve done anything with him at that moment.
“So, how was it?” she presses.
“It was really good,” you gush, a laugh rushing out of your chest. “It was the hottest thing I’ve ever done,” you add, feeling how hot your face is when you put your hands on it.
“I bet,” your roommate laughs. “I can see that you’re flustered from here.” You can’t help but laugh again, putting your hands over your face and sighing. “So, what’s your relationship now?”
“I don’t know. We really didn’t talk about it. Like I said, it was just a kinda spur-of-the-moment thing.”
“Well, I’m getting that it means you’re admitting your feelings for him,” she responds, and move your hands to look at her.
“I’m scared too,” you answer honestly. “I don’t wanna say that, and then he pulls a complete one-eighty on me.”
“That’s understandable, but truthfully, I don’t think he’s the same guy he was in high school. From what you’ve been telling me, it doesn’t sound like he’s going to do that to you.” You let her words bounce around in your head, both of you going silent as you think.
“Maybe,” you say after a while.
“Have some faith, girl. I bet he likes you a lot more than you like him.” Her words make you smile, and then she stands up. “Alright, we need to get a move-on if we want to make it to this thrifting event on time.”
“You were the one who wanted me to tell you about what happened,” you say after you scoff. 
“Well, it was only natural. You tell me it was uneventful, but you have hickeys on your chest? I’d be crazy not to ask,” she counters, and she has a point because you would do the same thing if the tables were turned.
You go back into your room to change your shirt, and then you’re walking out the door with your roommate, putting your situation with Ukai to the side for a while.
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Monday rolls around faster than you’d like, and you spend all morning thinking about how the conversation with Ukai will go. You’re not dreading it, you’re just more worried about if your conversation will be awkward or not. You get to class pretty early since you woke up early, and you listen to your music as you wait for Ukai to get here.
You pull up the paper that you have to present while you wait, and you read over it just in case. There’s no point in making any changes since you had to submit it to your professor before class, but you still want to go over it anyway. You freeze for a split second when you see Ukai sit down next to you in your peripheral, and you slide your headphone off your head, but you don’t look his way.
“Morning,” you hear him say, and you turn to him, having a hard time keeping your smile small.
“M-Morning.” You pick at the corner of your laptop as you internally roll your eyes at how nervous you are.
“Listen,” he starts, leaning towards you and lowering his voice. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable yesterday–”
“No, it’s okay,” you say, cutting him off. “It was–I, um…I liked it,” you whisper, and there’s no way you can look him in the eyes after saying that. Both of you jump when the professor announces for you to start your presentation. 
Thankfully, it goes off without a hitch, the only thing is, you started to notice about halfway through your paper that someone’s glaring at you. You couldn’t figure out who it was while you were reading, but when you start to ask the class questions, you realize it was the girl that tried to talk to Ukai a while ago.
You try not to let it affect you, but you have no idea why she’s staring you down. You don’t know if Ukai notices her too, but before you know it, it’s all over. You sigh quietly in relief when the professor says that class is over, and you both pack up your stuff. You notice that Ukai is walking way closer to you when you walk out of class, and you feel sparks go up your arm every time his hand brushes against yours.
“I’d say we did pretty good,” he says while you both walk.
“Yeah. She seemed really happy with our questions. I have you to thank for that, though. You did most of the work,” you respond.
“I’d say it was pretty even,” he jokes, and you can’t help but laugh. “Our usual spot?” he asks, and you nod even though the both of you are already walking that way. 
The area you usually sit in is pretty empty when you get there, and you and Ukai both sit where you usually do. You sit next to him, but there’s no way you can get any work done. Even though it’s quiet, the air between you is stiflingly filled with attraction. 
Since you’re not going to get any work done, you carefully lay your head on his shoulder, and you bite your lip to hide your smile when he wraps his arm around you. “You gonna nap?” he asks, you nod as you press further into him.
“Yeah, I’m gonna try.” You turn your face to press it into his shoulder, and you close your eyes as you breathe him in. He smells so good, and it’s nearly too late when you start to realize that you’re getting warm all over. You will yourself to calm down, but there’s no way you’re going to be able to go to sleep, so you keep your eyes open, focusing on what work he’s doing every now and then.
When you feel yourself starting to go to sleep, it’s too late because you feel him shaking you gently to let you know that you have to get to class. He gets up after you do, and you wait for him to put his stuff in his backpack before you leave. When he stands, he’s nearly in your space, but you make no move to step back. You actually want to step closer to him, but you have to remind yourself that you’re not alone.
You look around, and you see that you are, but there’s no way you’d be bold enough to do anything in public anyway. You both look at each other for a second before you move to kiss him on the cheek again. It’s the only thing you bring yourself to do right now. “I’ll see you later,” you whisper when you step back, but you don’t even get a chance to turn around.
He grabs your wrist softly, pulling you into him with his hand on the back of your neck. His lips meet yours for a hungry kiss, and you can’t help but melt into him, and suddenly you’re forgetting about being in public. You’re dazed when you pull away, your breathing ragged as you let your fingers softly touch your lips.
You look around again, and when the coast is clear, you move towards him again, and he holds you closer to him as he deepens the kiss. Fuck, he’s such a good kisser. Every single one makes you feel like you’re floating, but he pulls away the moment you moan. “You should go,” he breathes, his hands resting on your hips. “Cause if you don’t, I won’t be able to let you go.”
You give him a shaky nod, and it seems like it takes forever for you to step back from him, and you nearly don’t, deciding that class isn’t so important anymore. But you really should go. His hands slip from your hips when you move, and it takes everything in you to walk away from him. You give him a small wave, hightailing out of there before you can change your mind.
Turns out, you should’ve just stayed with him because you reply the kiss over and over in your head the whole class period.
~
“Hey, are you doing anything Friday?” your friend asks, and you look up from your homework.
“No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“Cause my team’s having a mixer, and I can bring a plus-one, and you need to get out. You’ve been studying all week,” she says, and you roll your eyes.
“I don’t know. I don’t really know any of your teammates,” you tell her, and she waves you off.
“Just bring your boyfriend. It’ll be fun.”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” you yell, but she’s already walking to her room. 
She has a point though. You’ve been nothing but working all week, and the only time you’ve seen Keishin is during class, which always leads to a heated kiss that has you wanting more. Even when you look back down at your work, you don’t want to think about it anymore, so you decide to take the offer.
You text Ukai about it, and he instantly agrees. You start to feel nervous just thinking about it, especially since you don’t attend things like this very often. You’ve been to a few due to your friend’s outgoing nature, but sometimes you just like to be at home watching your favorite show. But, maybe it won’t be so bad since Ukai will be with you.
When Friday rolls around, you’re waiting on your friend to finish getting ready, so you’re sitting on the couch. You offered to drive since you won’t be drinking that much anyway, and you stand when you hear her heels clicking on the floor behind you. “Why are you wearing that?” she asks, and you look down at your outfit.
“What’s wrong with it? I thought you’d like that I’m wearing a dress,” you muse, even though you’re going to be tugging on it all night. It hugs your body way more than you’d like, but you bought it on a whim and you’ve barely worn it. 
“I’m talking about the jacket.”
“What’s wrong with the jacket? It’s gonna get cold tonight,” you tell her, genuinely not understanding what she’s getting at.
She rolls her eyes before she plants her hands on her hips. “You can’t show up with a jacket. Now, he can’t give you one.” You instantly understand what she means, and you can’t help but scoff.
“Are you seriously telling me to ditch the jacket just so Ukai will give me his?”
“Uh, duh. Why else would I be telling you this?” You don’t have much of a choice because she pulls it off of you, throwing it on the couch. You don’t have time to protest because even in heels, she’s moving out of the door quickly. 
You must be here early because parking isn’t absolute shit yet, and you can feel your nerves start to hit you as you walk up to the house. When you get inside, you quickly realize that this is nowhere near a mixer; it’s a full blown party. Your friend guides you to the kitchen, handing you a drink once she gets there, and her friends find her almost instantly.
They talk to you for a while, and you check your phone to see that Ukai just texted you. Your friend waits for him to get there before she leaves with her friends, and you both find a corner to occupy as the music pounds in your head. “This isn’t really your thing, is it?” He has to lean down to ask you, and you shake your head as you move your hand side-to-side.
“Not really, but my friend thought I should get out since I’ve been studying all week.” 
“She sounds like a good friend,” he yells back, and that makes you laugh.
“When she wants to be, yeah.” The room’s starting to fill up, so you grab his hand to find somewhere else to go. You decide to just step outside since they’re playing music that you don’t really listen to. “Did you drive here?” you ask, finally relieved that you can hear yourself think.
“Yeah. I have a friend that’s on the team, so I’m the designated driver tonight.”
“So am I,” you say, taking a sip of the seltzer, and you offer it to him. He takes a swig before he puts the drink down on the half-brick wall that you’re sitting on.
“Are you not cold?” he asks, gesturing to your body, and you nod your head quickly.
“Oh, I definitely am. My friend told me to ditch the jacket though.” He gives you a questioning look, and you chuckle a bit before you explain. “She said if I ditch the jacket, you would give me yours,” you explain. “You don’t have to though,” you add, but he’s already sliding it off, and your eyes land on his arms which look like they might rip the sleeves of his shirt.
He puts it on you, and it’s so warm that you can’t help but curl into the warmth. You stick your arms in the sleeves, and he moves closer to you. You stand so that you can make your way in between his legs, and his hands land on your hips. 
“You look good tonight,” he comments, and you hum as you put your hands on his shoulders.
“Yeah?”
He nods. “Especially in my jacket,” he adds, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer to him.
“And what are you gonna do about it?” you question, and he grabs both sides of his jacket in one hand to pull you down to him. 
“I’ll show you,” he whispers against your lips before he kisses you firmly, and you gladly let your weight fall on him. He easily catches you as you move your arms to hang over his shoulders. He keeps one of his arms wrapped around you while the other falls so that he can trail his hand up your leg. You know the goosebumps that rise on your skin aren’t from the cold because your body starting to heat up and he’s barely started kissing you.
His fingers start to reach under the hem of your dress, and it feels so teasing to you that it makes you leak onto your panties. You’re glad you’re in the backyard because you would be embarrassed otherwise at how easily he’s pulling all kinds of sounds from you. He sucks on your tongue, and you’re pretty sure you would let him do anything to you right now.
He groans when you pull at his hair, and his fingers dig into the fat of your ass as his fingers start to inch further up your dress. You jump away from him quickly when someone yells your name, and you look up to see a girl walking up to you. You recognize her as one of your friend’s teammates, and she carefully steps outside, but Ukai doesn’t let you go.
That’s also when you realize that people could see you from inside since the curtains to the backdoor are wide open, but you don’t have time to think about that because she starts talking to you. “We’re playing seven minutes in heaven. You have to play!”
“O-Oh, I don’t know about that–” She cuts you off with a rough yank of your hand that nearly tips you over, and you grab Ukai’s hand also since there’s no way you’re stopping her. She pulls you upstairs, and you all walk into a room that’s filled with people but not as many downstairs. There’s music playing in here, and when she closes the door, the music blasting downstairs is severely muffled.
She pulls you into the circle, and you quickly fix your dress when you sit down to make sure you don’t flash anybody. “God, it’s like she didn’t stop,” you breathe, turning to Ukai when he sits down next to you.
“Yeah, that’s for sure.”
“I’m sure we can just sneak out of here in like, five minutes,” you say, but it’s too late because someone stands up and starts talking. You look around the room, and you start to feel uneasy when you see the same guy that Ukai nearly beat up. He barely spares either of you a glance, and you definitely feel uneasy when you see the girl that shares the same class with the both of you.
She makes eye contact with you, and she gives you a smile that’s all too friendly. There’s no way you can leave now because there’s no point in explaining the rules since everyone knows how to play. You and Ukai are definitely the only sober ones in the room, and you feel anxious as the girl from your class picks you to spin the bottle first.
You do it just to do it so you can get out of here faster because you’d rather be anywhere with Ukai but here. You chew on your lip nervously as the conversation gets quiet while people wait to see who’s going in the closet with you. You nearly slump in relief when it lands on Ukai, and when you look at him, he has a look in his eyes that gets both of your heartbeats racing.
He gets up before you do, pulling you to the closet faster than you can even process what’s going on. When he closes the door, you try to find a light to turn on, but he’s pushing you against the nearest wall before you can. As he pushes you, you feel something cold run across your forehead, and you assume it’s the string to the light, so you try to pull it while he kisses you frantically. 
You manage to turn it on, but the moment it happens, you soon forget about it when his lips find your neck. He pulls the jacket off of you, letting it fall to the floor as his hands rub at your thighs. “Keishin,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice down since you don’t know how soundproof the door is.
“I’m so glad it landed on me. I don’t know if I would be able to handle you coming in here with someone else,” he breathes against your skin, and you’re glad it landed on him too, but there’s no way you’re able to tell him that when he pushes your dress up so that it’s bunched at your waist. 
He hikes your leg up so that it’s on his waist, and his other hand runs under the side of your panties. You jump when he finally touches you down there, and you hide your face in his hair to try and muffle your moans. He uses his other hand to pull your dress further up your body so until your tits fall out. The straps of the dress were designed where wearing a bra would’ve looked weird, and you don’t regret not wearing one at all right now.
You can’t even begin to try and get a word in when he starts to suck at your tits at the same time he pulls your underwear to the side. You ball his shirt in your fist when he rubs at your clit, and you dig your teeth into the other side of his shirt. You’re glad he has you up against the wall because you definitely would’ve fallen otherwise. 
You wanna try and make him feel good too, but he’s got you trapped between him and the wall, and there’s no way you could, so you just let the pleasure overtake you. You feel tears start to form at the corner of your eyes when he slides his fingers into you, and you’re confident the groan he releases is loud enough for everyone outside to hear.
“Oh, God,” you whine. “Oh, God, Kei–” You stand on your toes to the best of your ability when he presses against your walls, and your fingers hurt from how hard you’re gripping his shirt. He finally abandons your chest in favor of watching your face as he fingers you, nudging your head up with his shoulder, and you bite into your lip as your pleasure builds.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so hot,” he moans as he looks at you, and he pulls your lip out from between your teeth.
“T-They’ll hear–me,” you try to whisper.
“I don’t care. Let ‘em hear how good I’m making you feel, baby.” You can’t fight the urge to bite your lip, and you let your head fall back against the wall. You’re definitely starting to get too loud, so he crashes your lips onto his. He swallows every sound you make, pressing up against you even more when he presses on that spot that has you keening into his mouth.
The knock on the door should startle you but it doesn’t. The only thing you care about now is how good you’re feeling. The second round of knocks are harder, and this time you hear a voice, but you don’t know what they’re saying. He kisses you soundly as he slides his fingers out of you, and you don’t hide your disappointment.
He slides his fingers into his mouth, his breathing just as ragged as yours when he pulls them out. “I’m nowhere near done with you,” he whispers, and he fixes your dress right as the door opens. He picks up his jacket off of the floor, and he grabs your hand, making a bee-line for the exit. 
He’s suddenly stopped by a familiar face with another familiar face on his arm. “I knew you could do it,” he says, and he hands Ukai some money. You both frown at him, and the girl laughs.
“You won the bet, Ukai,” she says, and you can feel your heart start to race in the wrong way as your hand starts to slip from his. “It only took what? Like two months?”
“You don’t remember the bet we made before school started?” the guy asks, and you start to feel sick, looking over your shoulder to see everyone looking at you. You feel like you might puke as you wretch your hand from him and run out of the room. You hear Ukai call after you but you don’t stop, running down the stairs and pushing past people, ignoring their comments.
You can’t help but let the tears fall when you get outside once the music starts to fade. Your ears are ringing so badly, and your feet are moving you to your car. You let out a sob as you run, and you don’t even hear your name being called behind you. A hand grabs your arm, and you try to shake it off, but it tightens its grip.
“Let me go!” you scream, turning around to see Ukai, and the only thing you see is the guy that let you get bullied in high school. “You’re a piece of shit!”
“Just listen to me,” he tries, but you continue to fight him. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. I didn’t see him until that day!” he says, but you’re not listening.
You stop moving, and he doesn’t let you go. “You’re still that same guy. Nothing fucking changed and I fell for it!” You take the chance to slip out of his grip, and you succeed, making a run for your car. You unlock it, but right as you try to open it, his hand lands on yours. 
“Just listen to me, please.”
“No! I don’t want to talk to you.” He turns you around so fast that it almost scares you, and he pushes you against your car door.
“Are you really going to listen to some people that you barely know instead of me?” he questions. Your lip is still wobbling, and you can’t stop the tears that are running down your face.
“It’s not like I have anything else to go off of,” you bite back, and he presses you against the car a little harder when he thinks you might move.
“Yes, you do. And you know it,” he declares. “I have no idea what the fuck they were talking about. I didn’t even know he was going here until I saw him that day. And I haven’t talked to her since that day in class.” You start to calm down, but your heart is still racing a mile a minute. “I really like you, okay?” he starts. “I have since I laid my eyes on you in high school, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell them to stop messing with you. I was more worried about myself.”
His words hang in the air between the two of you, and when you start to relax, he lets you go. “Nothing that I have said or done with you has been a part of some bet. Everything I did was my choice.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you ask, and you hate how your voice trembles.
“You think I threaten to beat him up all for some bet? I’m better than that, and you know it.” He lets his hands fall into your hands, grabbing them soft but his grip is firm. “I would never do something like that to you. I’ve been thinking about telling you the truth ever since I saw you that day, but I thought if I did, you would hate me. I couldn’t live with that, so I stayed quiet.”
You don’t respond, sniffling heavily. “And now I’m realizing that that was the dumbest decision I could’ve ever made. Spending this time with you has been the best moment of my life,” he breathes. “Don’t tell me that you don’t feel the same.”
You can’t even tell yourself that you don’t feel the same. You know from the start that your feelings for him never left, and there was a part of you that just accepted it. But you were so scared to let your guard down, to be vulnerable with him like you are now. 
“I really like you. I mean that. And I’m sorry for letting you be hurt all this time.” You let go of his hand so that you can wipe your face.
“It’s not your fault,” you eventually say. “I do feel the same way, but I was scared. Back then and now, I blamed you for the bullying, but it was never your fault.”
“Yes, it was,” he presses, but you stop him.
“No. It wasn’t.” You sniffle again, taking a deep, shaky breath. “I was letting the past dictate my feelings. I shouldnt’ve let their words get to me. But I was scared that you would hurt me if I let you back in.”
“I won’t hurt you again. I promise. I’ll never make you feel like that again.” He lets his head fall on yours as he speaks. “I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you, but I won’t let it happen again.” You pull away, looking in his eyes, and you lean forward to kiss him softly. He lets his hands move to your neck, kissing you back just as softly. 
“I believe you,” you whisper when you pull away. “I’m sorry I didn’t before. I really like you, too.” He can’t help but smile, and he kisses you again just because he can.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” you ask, frowning a bit.
“For letting me say what I’ve always wanted to say. I thought I lost my chance forever.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him again.
“No,” you say. “Now you have me forever.”
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bunji-enthusiast · 11 months ago
Note
Hello!
I wanted to make a dogday x cheetah smilling critter reader
Reader is basically the fusion of hoppy and kickin chicken
They're very curious, adventurous and energetic always looking for action or adventure around the factory and sometimes even bringing kids along with them which sometimes would always lead to reader getting scolded by both dogday and some of the workers because of the dangerous situations reader puts the kids into
And one day after reader comes back from one of their adventures to talk with dogday, he finds out that reader had injured her arm and tail from falling from somewhere and also bringing a child they took with them that had a small scratch on its cheek
Oops! This is way longer then I expected sorry ^^"
(Texas) Hold Em’ Please
Note || ooh this is such a neat idea, hope this was okay <3
WC || 1,005
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More often than not, you would go searching for new adventures in the factory. You simply couldn’t be tied down to one singular floor or location, you wanted to feel freedom and the excitement of being able to search for things; even if you’d already seen it before. It was quite pleasant to do so anyway.
Though, this had led to multiple scoldings from DogDay and a few of the employees, as you had a habit of bringing the children along with you when they insist on it multiple times. You couldn’t help it! You certainly couldn’t turn down the children’s pleas either. Why would you be the one to restrict them from a possible adventure of fun? So you had always said yes every time they had asked. 
You try as you might to protect them from the possibilities of any bruises or actual injuries, as you know that will lead to real scoldings you were sure you didn’t want to be faced with in any case. Sometimes, there were bruises involved but you always had great solutions and remedies to fix them right up. It was a fortunate thing indeed that there hadn’t been any incidents of injuries before. The children getting hurt was the last thing you wanted anyway.
You just didn’t take into account it would one day truly be you in that position.
This was a recurring setup, it was everyday during work hours you had gone outside regulations and went along on one of your adventures. For someone like you, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to do so, you had always done this. But the sunny dog was beginning to get worried, you were taking longer than normal to return to Playcare, to their spot. You weren’t back just yet, and so many thoughts swam through DogDay’s mind.
“DogDay?..”
He didn’t respond, the onslaught of thoughts, still capturing his self-attention continuously. The figure snapped their fingers against his ears once more, trying to get him back to reality. 
“DOGDAY!” He snapped out of his incessant thoughts to find that Hoppy had been the one to snap the leader out of his mind-chamber. DogDay blinked for a few moments, white pupils flickering in and out. He shook his head and turned to Hoppy, wondering why she was making time to converse with him right now.
“Hoppy, what is it?” DogDay inquired, tilting his head as he awaited her reply. She groaned with a huff escaping her as she put a paw on her hip. She seemed to be consumed in thought as to how she would go about saying what she needed to, “SO… uh, our particularly adventurous friend got back from a recent one.”
Hoppy jabbed a thumb right behind her, throwing up her other hand to do so. “You really ought to be the one to look at this.” DogDay began to get worried upon hearing the words of his friend, sometimes at most you brought a sense of unease with how often you had brought about your adventures both privately and publicly with few of the children. But what has happened now? Something bad no doubt, he must hurry.
He then nodded, then stood to his feet. “Thank you, I’ll go right away-” He then turned to the group of children that accompanied him, looking on in confusion. “Could you?..” DogDay trailed off, gesturing to the children. Hoppy nodded with an exasperated sigh, urging him to go and check on you.
DogDay scuttled away, waving at Hoppy before he had disappeared out of view. “You're the best, Hoppy!” He smiled at her then continued onward.
It didn’t take long for DogDay to find you, seeing as how he was informed that you were in the infirmary being checked on by a medical professional. Now it didn’t take long either for it to register this was a more major situation, you were hurt. He looked around to see another body in the Med Bay, the building was buoyant, yet so empty. 
A child?
A whimper snapped him out of his shock, you noticed that DogDay had arrived. “Hey.” You grin tired, the vocal pronunciation prolonged as you appeased in embarrassment before DogDay. He wasn’t sure what to say, out of the shadow of the fear raging within his heart that he might make the situation even worse than it needed to be.
“Angel,” He began, “What happened?” DogDay walked over to you, seeing as how the nurse had finally taken her leave. 
“I, I uh…” You stutter, burning in embarrassment. “I injured my arm and tail, and..” Your head snaps to where the child was resting, actually taking a nap after his cheek had been tended to. “He got a scratch on his cheek.”
DogDay’s shoulders deflated in relief, seeing the situation wasn’t as terrible as he had made it out to be. Suddenly, he had hugged you, causing you to choke out in surprise. 
“DogDay?”
“I’m just glad you two are okay.” His voice carried a warmth as if he had lived a long time, though it wasn’t the truth it had simply felt as if it was that way. DogDay laxed in his hold, pulling back so you could regain personal space. “All that there was to it, then there was no reason for me to worry that much.”
You were almost stunned, used to the scoldings you normally would get. This wasn’t one, not at all. DogDay was actually genuine with his words, you weren’t sure of what to say in return. DogDay couldn’t help but chuckle at your inability to speak, “NO, worries… okay? I just, I really don’t want to see you or any of the children hurt.”
“But, what had happened in the first place for you to end up here?” DogDay questions, head tilted and one ear raised. Typical dog-like behavior resides within your friend, a small laugh escapes you at the thought. You shrug your shoulders as you return in reply with words of your own.
“We fell.”
“...”
“What?”
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i-am-ir0n-maiden · 2 months ago
Text
It's Not What It Looks Like
for @msdjsg7
Welcome to Chapter 2 of my first fic, first Loki fic, and first char x reader fic, Taking Chances! You can find Chapter One here.
Warnings/tags: a little bit of strong language (shut it, Steve), good!Loki, fluff, soft!Loki, Avenger!Loki, you and Loki are friends (maybe eventually more, oops that could be a spoiler), Loki's in a stabby mood for about half a scene
No age limits
Fandom: MCU movie Loki
You blinked awake slowly after the best sleep you'd had in weeks to find yourself in a bed not your own. Too much green.
Then you noticed that you were in someone's arms.
Loki's?!
You shifted a bit, embarrassed, trying to remember how you got here. Oh, right... in your exhaustion-hazed brain last night, you thought getting your Jotunn best friend to cuddle you to cool you down in place of the air conditioning was a good idea. Yeah. That's right.
Loki stirred a bit and woke up at your movements, that malicious smirk creeping onto his face as he looked down at you. He didn't need to say anything - his face said more than words could. He thought this was funny.
You glared at him. "Shut up," you growled as you shifted away, trying to put some distance between you two. Anything to make this less awkward, oh Norns why did I ever think this was a good idea, I need to get away from him I don't like the butterfly feeling I'm getting right now because it's starting to transition to turning me on...
He actually smiled at you. "I haven't said a word, darling." He paused for effect. "You, on the other hand, were... rather demanding last night." The smile became his trademark smirk once more. "It's not often a woman forces herself into my bed and orders me to hold her."
Your glare intensified as you pulled away, out of his grasp, and slipped out of the bed entirely.
You didn't expect long, cool fingers to wrap around your wrist and keep you from taking another step.
Loki had moved faster than you'd ever seen any being move before to grab your wrist and prevent you from leaving.
You froze for a second, barely able to believe your ears at what he said next. "Did I tell you that you had to leave?"
You finally snapped out of your holy-shit-is-this-really-happening trance, not making any more moves to leave, as you said "I should... It's dawn."
"I see that. What I do not see is how the sunrise has any bearing on your staying with me or leaving. It's quite rare that anyone chooses to be near me." He attempted to pull you back.
You sighed, but let him pull you off-balance so you landed back beside him. "If the others see me sneaking out of your room, they might, well... get ideas." You said as you settled back in beside him.
He chuckled softly at that. "Mm. Perhaps we shouldn't allow that."
"Then why do you want me to stay?"
"Simply because I desire your company, is that a problem for you?"
It was once again your turn to be shocked. "N-no. It's not. But you only get five more minutes."
He pulled you close enough to put his arms back around you. "I shall not keep you a second longer than you wish."
You two laid there a few more moments, simply existing together and listening to the sound of one another's breathing. When the five minutes were up, you reluctantly slipped out of Loki's grasp, eliciting a small, sad whine from him. "Already?"
"Yeah, Lokes. I really need to leave now." You said softly as you headed for the door. "See you at breakfast?"
"Won't miss it, since you asked me." His reply was barely audible through the blankets he'd burrowed back into.
What the fuck was that all about? You thought as you headed back to your own room for a shower.
________________________________
When you walked into the kitchen after sneaking back to your room to get ready, Natasha grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side without even giving you a chance to say a word. "So. You and the iceman, huh?" She whispered, looking at you with a conniving smirk.
"Wh- what are you talking about?" You said, trying to feign innocence despite the blush creeping onto your face.
"You went past my room last night and this morning."
"So?"
"Loki's is the last. Mine's next to his."
"It- it's not what it looks like, Nat, I swear..." You managed to say, looking away from her piercing gaze.
"Sure. We've all seen the looks you two give each other, haven't we, Clint?" She called over her shoulder to her partner in crime.
Clint, in the middle of shoving waffles into his mouth, glanced up and said something unintelligible due to his mouth being full.
"See? He agrees." Natasha locked that intense stare she uses during interrogations onto you, daring you to lie again.
"Oh my Gooood..." you moaned in exasperation, rolling your eyes while you frantically formulated a lie.
"Yes?" The smooth voice beside you shocked you, and you glanced over to see Loki smirking at you. "You called?"
"You're not helping, Loki!" You shot him a glare. "Tell Nat why I was in your room last night." You attempted to communicate with your eyes that he needed to lie to her to un-incriminate you both. Tell her anything but the fact that I demanded you cuddle me.
His eyes lit up for a split second - you could practically see what he was thinking. 'This is going to be fun.'
"Well, Miss Romanoff, she walked into my room, forced herself into my bed and demanded that I hold her because it was "too hot everywhere but with me."" He put little air quotes around the last six words - he must have picked that up from Thor.
"God damn it, Loki, why -" your protest was cut off by Natasha's "HA! I KNEW IT!" She triumphantly high-fived Clint and you noticed her surrepititiously being handed money by Sam, Steve, and even Bruce. Thor looked pleased.
She turned back to you with a satisfied look on her face. "JARVIS, you can fix our changes now."
"With pleasure, Miss Romanoff." the AI replied, sounding almost... teasing?
"You see, we've all seen the looks you and Reindeer Games here give each other. So lady triple imposter and her birdbrain decided to do something about it. We actually were all in on it." Tony added from the coffee machine.
"I had JARVIS crank up the temp in your room, the hall, and a little bit in Loki's." Clint said around his fork.
"I obeyed, but made certain that your thermostats showed no change." JARVIS added from the ceiling.
"I went along with their grand scheme and made it believable, didn't think it'd work though." Tony chipped in again from behind his coffee mug.
"I orchestrated all this because you two clearly are all heart eyes for each other." Natasha said, looking satisfied.
"And we bet them it wouldn't work." Bruce, Sam and Steve added sadly.
Thor now looked confused. "I.. was told to ignore everyone else and keep quiet."
You and Loki exchanged identical infuriated glances and took a simultaneous step forward, reaching for your favorite weapons - Loki conjuring a dagger out of thin air, you drawing the one he gave you from its sheath on your hip. "Lot of planning just for it to backfire on them, huh?" you said as you and Loki advanced on the others. "Mm." Loki agreed.
"See? You even reacted the same!" an unfazed Natasha managed to say through her laughter.
Sam's eyes got big and he stood up, tugging Steve and Bruce, who was getting nervous and looking a little green veined, with him. "Thor, should we run?" he asked, already heading for the door.
"I advise it. My brother rather enjoys stabbing people who get on his bad side." Thor replied.
"Relax, Dr. Green Bean. Don't go smashing the place." you said as you passed Bruce being tugged along by Sam. "We won't touch you three."
Loki paused and touched your wrist with his free hand. You glanced at him.
"Perhaps we should give them what they wish?" he whispered just loud enough for the others to hear.
"How... do you propose to do that?" you replied, confused.
His free arm slipped around your waist. "Is this okay?" He looked pleased with himself.
Why not, you thought, and said as much as you leaned into him.
"We've changed our minds." Loki said as he lowered the dagger in his hand and you sheathed yours. "However, conspire against me again and you will see why I am called the god of mischief." He, without warning, threw his dagger, embedding it in the wall a few inches from Nat's head.
"HEY! You WILL be fixing that, and by hand, not with magic!" Tony complained at the hole in the wall that appeared when Loki made the dagger disappear, and reappear back in its place in his room.
Loki pulled you a bit closer and led you along with him as he stepped around Tony and towards the cabinets to find something to eat. As you moved beside him, one thought ran through your mind.
What the fuck is happening between us.
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dudelymantits · 14 days ago
Note
Tell us more about your Adler/Star pairing please 👀✨
Sure! Thank you for asking! As usual this ended up longer than intended oops
So originally a few months back a friend mentioned how there should be more Signalis rare pairs and one of the ones she ended up mentioning was Star/Adler. For some reason this one stuck with me and kinda marinated in the back of my mind until I started to flesh them out more.
They both are stationed at my totally normal radio outpost B-92 Becquerel, because of Becquerel’s smaller size this station’s work hierarchy is set up differently than S-23 going like:
KNCR-B9201: this Kranich is the main head of the facility, she takes the place of a Falke unit and has a lot of other things going on that are not really relevant to this post besides the fact she is eternally tired because of them and therefore dismissive of certain issues that she shouldn’t be.
The three “heads”: these guys oversee the three main sektors of the facility with each being, Radio/military, Research, and Civilian/other. That last category is run by our Adler!
ADLR-B9201 or Grey is a newer unit being commissioned after the death of the previous Civilian overseer gestalt, Grey handles most of our usual expected Adler paperwork and bureaucratic duites, but he thinks due to the other two guys being “lackluster” in their own ways Adler often finds himself having to pick up whatever technical work they “didn’t end up doing in time”. Grey wants to run the place nice and organized, but his gestalt coworkers and boss seemingly having better things to worry about they don’t care he has a larger workload than everyone else. He stresses over performance and often wishes he worked as a normal Adler unit with a more clean cut ladder, but here? To many variables and people he has to get along with.
Thing is that it’s partially his own fault, he wants everything ahead of schedule and obviously that’s not happening, and if he would just work at a more normal even pace and communicate with the rest of his coworkers a large number of his problems with his work environment would be fixed, or at least lessened. Basically he’s the last guy you’d want to work with, very controlling and wanting to completely change the place he works at rather than adapting to what already had worked there before.
This bleed into his personality making him just a ass to be around, “pissy little bitch” was what I called him for months, he was whiny and short tempered especially when things didn’t go his way. And this is where Star comes in.
STAR-B920?: Eloka is a pretty average star, higher ranking than most but not to the point I’d call her high ranking yk? Above average…! Eloka also likes to push buttons and see exactly what she can get away with. This is partly why she’s in the middle of B-92’s Star ranks, she’s pissed off the ones above her so much they wouldn’t dare promote her more than they already have but also they recognize she’s more skilled than the newbie’s and weaker stars. She doesn’t care for hierarchy like most Starlings, and therefore finds it entertaining to break their rules.
Eloka has a record for getting herself in a mess, with other Star, with other Protektors, with relationships, hell she probably has gotten stuck in the Ara vents or on the rooftop a few times. She’s pretty silly. So when the new Adler got stationed and she heard about his poor temper you know exactly what she started doing, fucking with him!
Pretty quickly this turned into a game of “how quickly can I get Grey mad today?” Typically with insults. She also gave him the nickname Grey rather than referring to him as Adler, which he saw as a disrespect of his authority, she gave it to give him because of his atypical grey chest plate. Now you may be thinking, if she’s causing so much trouble for a higher up wouldn’t she be decommissioned? Well this is where it goes back to the other two heads, basically they would all have to agree to the decommissioning of a Protektor and Kranich would then order it. So even if he wanted to and probably threatened to at first they both knew that was an empty threat. It wasn’t constant picking but slowly became more consistent.
At first they really hated each other due to this strange routine they developed for obvious reasons, but slowly Grey started to grow more used to it and became less explosive in his reactions and he actually started to like her interpretations, and she started to also get used to this pattern. The pranks got lighter and rather than her fucking with his office she’d rearrange the files in a less disastrous way, tripping him lightly, ruffing his hair etc. He still found these mildly annoying but when they didn’t happen their days didn’t feel complete.
Both were oblivious to their growing affection but started to be with each other more and more, Eloka finding reasons to be in his office and Adler finding reasons to be less of a dick and controlling because he actually had something else in his life now to focus on and was kinda forced to chill out. She also started to find his grey chest plate cute. and a small bet was started by the stars and eules on who would ask the other out first, some units put their bet on Eloka because she had a history of girlfriends before and was usually the one to ask them first, where others argued that because she usually was so blunt with women why hadn’t she done so with him yet?
I’m not sure who wins the bet yet, but I do have it that Eloka was flirty with Grey from the start originally for fun but later actually meaning it sometimes [he still is bad at picking out when it’s serious or not] he also started to return the small pranks and insults back now, and the flirting that came with that. After they actually get together I imagine it would remain mostly the same as before, but with them now exploring their new relationship.
I also feel like Eloka would talk to him about guns a lot, and him talking about his stress at work. I have a scene in my head of her just in his office talking to him while kicking her feet like a teen girl lol. This could lead to him getting more into weapons, but I also like the idea of him getting into computers as well. He’s still a workaholic but not as much of an ass so improvement for sure.
Other thing to note: I don’t think Adler’s need a Falke specifically to function, I think they need structure. The reason it’s painted as them needing a Falke is national propaganda. Adler’s I feel work very well with clear hierarchy which is why I made grey specificly hate the one he’s in. Also why you shouldn’t have multiple Adler’s in one place most of the time, they don’t work well in teams. Even for Adler’s like S-23 we see him have issues with the Kolibri’s in his notes, who I see as being on equal footing to Adler but handling different parts of the facility than him. Adler’s also don’t strike me as leaders, they are helpers and need someone or something to follow, and for a country like the nation why not make sure he follows your literal man made goddess? Someone made to embodied your ideals?
Oh yea no Falke at this station lol
If you read all this text ily
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