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sugxto · 19 days ago

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tripped fuse - eddie/reader x voyeur volt

⋆syn: You and Volt conspire to get Eddie to break his "no fucking in the bar" rule.

⋆wc: 3.9k

⋆cw: m/g/n reader + slight m/m/reader threesome, angry/possessive sex, alcohol consumption, slight voyeurism.

⋆notes: reader is not described with pronouns, physical attributes, or certain genitalia. This has references to Transformer, but is still independent. e/v masterlist.

⋆snippet:

He scoffs, and now the finger points to you. “You. You have been hanging around Volt too much. Both of you so casual about breaking my one fucking rule. You think I don’t know how often you two hook up on my own fucking bar?”

Something ignites inside you, and the words tumble from your lips before you can stop them. “Well it’s my fucking house!”

The air between you two crackles - it makes the hair on your arms stand up, makes your breath hitch. It’s like you’re waiting for a lightning strike - the knowing that something is coming, but you can’t place exactly what.

tripped fuse

You can hear Johnny’s voice before you even open the Breaker Box door, and you wonder how long his act has been going on, and pray it’ll end soon. You can tell, when you step inside, that the other patrons are wondering the same thing, and you know it’s likely to be a long night.

“Darling,” you hear, and whip your head around to see Volt, grin wide on his face, headed towards you. “Just the person I wanted to see.”

You smile back before he kisses you, one of his large hands cupping your face. His eyes are bright when you pull away, a certain gleam in them that sparks your curiosity. “What’s this look?” you ask, leaning into his palm.

The corners of his mouth twitch. “I have a secret I think you’d like.” His voice is barely holding back excitement, like he’s offering you a present.

“Ooh.” You step even closer to him, bring a hand to rest on his chest. “Can I hear it?”

His eyes quickly flick past your hand to the bar before finding your gaze again. “Our Eddie is… in a bit of a mood.”

You furrow your brows. That wasn’t what you were expecting. “A bit of a mood?”

“Indeed. The kind that if he’s…” his fingers travel down to cup your chin, “pushed in a certain way, he’s likely to lose his temperament.”

Well, that wasn’t really a secret - Eddie was usually one bad client away from snapping. He must notice how it doesn’t seem to click for you, so he urges you a bit closer with his fingers.

“Meaning. That if either of his partners got, say, a little out of line, he might take some corrective measures.”

Oh.

A memory of white wires around Volt’s wrists and pitiful pleas from his lips flashes across your mind, and Volt chuckles when he sees the recognition and understanding in your eyes, your lips falling open a breath. “Meaning,” you say, in nearly a whisper, “he might get… rough and uncaring?”

He laughs again, and he presses a quick peck to your forehead. “That is how I put it before, isn’t it? I think so. And I also think,” his voice is teasing, persuasive, and you don’t claim to have immunity over it, “that you ought to have a go at goading him a bit.”

Now, you liked Eddie’s wires as much as the next guy, but for you, they were always either a fun little adornment, or, on very rare occasions, a punishment - not something you somehow forced him to use. Volt was the brattier of the two of you - years of shared existence with Eddie made him an expert on what buttons to push when, a skill you still reckon you’ll be mastering for a while. Specifically rousing him like that… you aren’t too sure.

Volt must see the apprehension turning over in your mind. “Oh don’t worry, darling. He won’t leave mid-shift to bind you, but after last call,” his thumb pinches your chin, “I wonder how rigid he’ll be with his rule.”

Oh.

You had to admit - you’ve been wondering if it were possible to push to Eddie to break the “no fucking in the bar” rule ever since he’d made you very aware of it. It was typically Volt he reprimanded the few times he’d caught (operative word being caught) you and Volt fooling around on the cool wood. And his face never faltered even if Volt would ask him to join in. The prospect of that mask finally falling…

You narrow your eyes, a smirk fighting to appear on your lips, and you grab at Volt’s lapel under your hand. “You think so?”

He quirks up his brows, and a spark flashes in his eyes. “I think you should find out.” He dips his lips down to your ear, runs a finger along your jaw. “And I’d be lying if I said I wouldn't love to watch.”

His voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you hold tighter to this lapel as you gasp. He huffs out a small laugh, his breath hot against your skin, and he gives a small kiss to your temple before pulling away with a smirk.

You swallow, give him a small nod. “I’ll try.”

“There’s a good spark. Go on, then.”

You do notice, before you even reach him, how wound up Eddie looks as you reach the bar. His lightning brows nearly kiss on his forehead, deep ridges between them, and his jaw is set in place as he pours some cosmopolitans. He startles a bit when you touch his arm, but he sighs at the sight of you. “Hey, baby,” he says, his voice tired, and he pecks your temple in the same place Volt did only a moment ago. But just as quickly as he turned to you, he moves to step away, but you tighten your hand around his arm, pulling him back.

There’s the smallest look of surprise in his grey eyes when he looks back at you, when you move your hand up to his bicep. “What, I only get a little peck?” You step closer to him, flitting your gaze to his lips, then back to his eyes.

One of his brows twitches up the slightest bit, and he searches your face for a moment before he leans his head down, his lips meeting yours in a quick, sweet kiss.

On another night, it might be enough, but tonight, you have a mission. And it is very much not enough.

You whine when he pulls away, only centimeters from your lips, and tighten your grip on his bicep as you look up at him with pleading eyes. Now, Eddie’s brows raise far up his forehead, and his titanium eyes widen as he cocks his head.

“Live wire,” he says, in a low, level voice that makes your heart thump a touch louder. “Is there something you wanna say?”

You shrug, pout your lips the tiniest bit. “I just want a kiss from one of the men I love.”

His gaze narrows, and he licks his lips. “Right. Which I’ve now given to you, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, but,” you run your hand back down his arm, your hand finding his, “maybe I was wanting a bit more.”

He makes a small sound in the back of his throat, like a breath of a laugh, and his hand is almost burning on your skin. Grey eyes are dark with what might be amusement, or might be disbelief. “Well. If you haven’t noticed, I’m a little busy. But,” he gives your hand a small squeeze, and he starts to pull away, “maybe we can see about more once we’re closed, alright?”

But still, you hold him firm, not letting him step away, and the look in his eyes is one of absolute bewilderment. A worrisome sound comes out of his mouth, like a sarcastic huff of a laugh, and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“Live wire,” he says again, and you know this tone - it’s one that causes alarm bells to sing Danger! Danger! in your mind. “I. Am working. Are you intentionally ignoring that? Or just being oblivious for the hell of it?”

You smile, your gaze flickering between his eyes. “For the hell of it.”

He bites his bottom lip and nods, and you know he’s connecting certain wires in his wind. “Hm. Cute. Now. Let go, and like I said, I will see about what we can do. Later.”

You sigh, and roll your eyes in the most exaggerated way. “Fine,” you say, with annoyance on your tongue, and release his hand.

But you make sure that’s not the end of it. You brush by him with little touches every time you pass him behind the bar, arch your back a bit more when you push Dorian a gin and tonic across the bar and throw in a wink for good measure. You can feel steel eyes watching every movement you make, especially when Volt finds you at last call, and pulls you onto the dance floor.

“How’s it going?” he asks, spinning you around once and then resting his hand at the small of your back, pressing your chests together. His white eyes sparkle with mischief, with a hint of adoration, as he sways your bodies back and forth.

“Not too bad,” you say with a small smile. “He’s been keeping himself busy, though.” Volt hums with a nod, and you ask, “What got him all bothered, anyway?”

It’s Volt’s turn to roll his eyes. “Nothing of importance, like usual. The inventory was off, and he realized we were out of merlot.”

Well, that didn’t seem like a big deal. “O…kay?”

Volt chuckles. “I know. But that meant he had to go borrow some from Beverly.”

Again, that didn’t seem like an issue. “I still don’t get it,” you say, after Volt gives you a quick dip.

His brows quirk up, and you swear there’s a small blush on his cheeks. “Ah. Yes.” White eyes take a peek at the bar, finding the distance between him and Eddie sufficient, before looking back at you. “Live wire, would you believe me if I said Eddie and Beverly used to be involved?”

Well, that was interesting. On the one hand, you weren’t surprised at any combination of relationships in this house. On the other, the idea that Eddie and Volt had ever been seriously involved with anyone but each other simply did not compute.

Volt sees your surprise. “It was before my time, mostly. Just a mutually beneficial agreement for when their beds were feeling empty. But,” he tsks his tongue, sucks in a breath, “he carries some guilt for how he treated her. And likes to minimize interaction as much as he can.”

That sounds accurate, you think, as the music starts to slow. “So now he’s just, brooding?” you ask. “Despite him having two loving partners willing and able to do anything for him?”

Volt nods with a smirk, another quiet laugh escaping his lips. “He’s a brooder, our Eddie. Gets a little in his head. That’s why it’s best for everyone to get him out of it with a good fuck.”

He looks around the bar, emptied out now, and you do as well, and notice that Eddie’s no longer behind the bar, or actually, anywhere in sight.

Volt must notice too, because he grins, cheshire-like, and pulls your hand. “Come on. Let’s push him over the edge together.”

He hoists you by your waist up onto the bar, the wood cold against your legs, and your lips melt against Volt’s when he cups your face. His lips are soft and his tongue is warm, and his fingers make little sparks dance on your thighs. You grab at his vest, pulling him closer, feeling your face getting hot from the buzz of the current of his skin. He tastes like whiskey and cherries, his breath intoxicating, and you hum into his mouth when his tongue slides over yours.

It doesn’t last long, though.

There’s a slam! from behind you, and the wood vibrates under your legs - you break away from Volt, whip your head around, and find the man in question staring at you with a roaring fire in his eyes.

“I fucking knew you were two were up to something,” Eddie says, the volume of his voice only a tick away from a yell. His hands rest atop a box of bottles he’s just set on the bar, his grip tight enough to cause white knuckles. “Couldn’t wait two fucking minutes to actually make sure I was gone, huh? Before pulling this shit?”

You hear the smile in Volt’s voice from next to your cheek. “We’re just having a bit of fun, Eddie.” And then his voice lowers, maybe just for your ears, “Unlike some people.”

Oh, this was not going to be good.

Eddie’s face has that same expression of shock as when you teased him earlier, but it’s harsher, less curious, and his eyes are nearly black. “Some fucking people are working.” As he speaks, Volt pulls you off the bar, and his hand gives you the smallest push between your shoulder blades. “Some people are trying to do inventory and fix stock and clean the glasses.” He points a finger at his chest, and the smallest sparks alight at the ends of his hair.

“Eddie,” you offer, in a soothing voice that you hope contrasts Volt’s mocking one, as you take a few steps towards him, the temperature rising every inch you move, “why can’t we just have some fun?”

Something ignites inside you, and the words tumble from your lips before you can stop them. “Well it’s my fucking house!”

A thunder clap. A hand to your neck, hot and burning and strong in its hold. Eddie tilts your head up to him, forcing your eyes to meet his, and you see the storm in them, ready to break at any second. When he speaks, the alarms in your head go off again, louder, more urgent. Danger! Danger! Danger! But you don’t move - you can’t.

“You wanna say that again, little wire?” There is no love in the nickname, no lighthearted sweetness. It’s angry. It’s a challenge.

You accept.

“This is my house.” You see lightning flash in his steel gaze at the words. “And I can do what I like in my house, can’t I?”

Eddie grits his teeth, his jaw set, and dark eyes search over your face, at the resolved expression you hope you’re keeping, and his fingers press into your pulse a little tighter. Finally, you see the corner of his mouth twitch, and he huffs out a short snort of a laugh. “Cute.”

You’re shoved back, the pressure on your neck momentarily taking your breath away, and you gasp in relief when it disappears. You’re turned around, almost losing your footing, your stomach smacking against the curved wood of the bar. You start to bring your hands up to the edge to steady yourself, but your wrists are grabbed, one by one, and brought behind you to the middle of your back, one large, calloused hand holding them down. You feel the wires of Eddie’s hair by your neck, feel the weight of his body over yours, keeping you pinned, the bulge of his cock growing by the second.

“It sounds like,” he says, and you swallow a whimper at the timbre of his voice by your ear, the desire to arch you back being stifled by his body, “we need to find out who’s right.” His other hand reaches around you and finds the zip of your pants. “Don’t move.” His hand leaves your wrists, and your pants are gone in an instant, the charged air a shock to between your legs. The sound of the metal of his belt clinking and the rustle of fabric hits you before your wrists are back in captivity. You moan out a fuuck when you feel the hot skin of his hard cock hit your ass, and his grip tightens.

You try to turn your head, try to find his eyes behind you, but you can’t see past your shoulder - but you do find, right where you left him at the other end of the bar, Volt’s white hot stare. It’s piercing - proud and excited and adoring - and the smirk on his lips makes you clench, even more so when he casually brings a drink to his lips.

Eddie’s voice, level and gruff behind you, isn’t helping. “You wanna have some fun?” he asks, and when you try to answer, a scream comes out instead - his cock enters you hard, fast, a delicious burn inside you that spreads from your hole, to your belly, down your arms and to your head.

The warmth melts your joints, makes your body pliant, and your jaw goes slack when you gasp at the fullness he brings you. Your fight is gone, all that remains is his name - “Eddie - oh, fuuck, please Eddie -”

And he’s immediately relentless, his hips snapping so harshly into you that the slaps of your skin fill the empty bar. You cry his name through grit teeth, to no avail, and you hear Volt’s electric chuckle through the filthy rhythm.

When you try to speak again, to beg for mercy and for more, two rough fingers hook inside your mouth. You gag at first, then let them pull at your cheek, a drop of drool already leaking from the corner of your mouth.

The hum of his skin and the heat of his breath by your neck make you shudder. His lips ghost over your ear, making you dizzy, making you moan. “Isn’t this fun, baby?” You moan in response, his unceasing pace making your head and eyelids heavy. “This what you wanted? W-When you couldn’t keep your hands off me? When you bent your ass over for Dorian?” Somewhere, Volt hums a low sound that fuels the burn inside you. “I think it is, yeah? ‘Cause you, fuck, you want everyone to know you’re mine?”

Even in another state of mind, you couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t pretend that it didn’t electrify your soul to be claimed and held by them, and you didn’t care who knew, who saw, so long as it was always clear who your heart and body belonged to.

“Yes, fuck Eddie, yesss,” you moan around his fingers, desperately, your legs shaking with the force of his ruts. You feel a spring coiling inside you, tighter and tighter and please yes -

You nearly scream when he pulls his cock out of you, no warning and no mercy, and he releases your wrists before scooping you up in his arms. Before you can blink, your back meets the cold wood, the contrast on your skin making you hiss, and he is above you, his arms by your shoulders propping himself up. He leans back, grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist, and he’s inside you again with a thrust, his name ripped from your lips in a plea, in relief.

“I can do anything I want to you,” he says, his voice raw and greedy and oh so tempting, his cock slow inside you, white hot and threatening to split you in two, “because you’re mine. And I’m the only one allowed to break my rules”

Yes, god yes, of course he could, of course, and you can only moan his name as his titanium eyes pin you down. But you gasp, and your eyes fly open, when something firm and buzzing grabs your wrists, forcing them to the wood above your head.

The sparks of Volt’s hair pop close to your face, and you whimper at how relaxed, how unbothered he looks, sitting in the stool next to your head. White eyes look absolutely pleased, and he licks his lips at your wide eyes. One hand effortlessly keeps your hands in check, and the other brings his glass to his lips.

“Ours,” Eddie says above you, and when you meet his eyes, you feel the coil tightening inside you again, the heat electrocuting you from the inside out. “Our bar. Our spark.”

You notice, out of the corner of your blurry eyes, Volt stand, and you feel his fingers tip your chin towards him, his thumb pull your bottom lip down. You know what he’s asking, and you open, offering your tongue, and your body wants to shake under the weight of his gaze as amber liquid falls from his lips and onto your tongue.

“Don’t swallow,” he warns, and his hand leaves your chin to find Eddie’s, leading his lips down, down to yours, and Eddie’s tongue thrusts inside your mouth, lapping at the whiskey while you moan and beg wordlessly. He licks at your tongue just as he hits a spot inside you that feels so perfect it nearly blinds you, and the heat, the burn - you’re not sure how much more you can take -

You are gone, floating, when he thrusts again, your body as liquid as the whiskey on your tongue and your skin surely hot enough to burn the wood beneath you. The only thing on your mind, on your lips, is Eddie, Eddie, yes more, Eddie - your vision goes white, and your ankles tighten around Eddie’s waist, searching for purchase wherever you can find it. Your climax washes over you in a wave of white, pleasure flooding your mind, and you’re only vaguely aware of Eddie’s tongue on your neck and his teeth on your shoulder as he cums, the heat of his spend singeing inside you.

It’s Volt’s hand, buzzing and soft on your jaw that rouses you back. Your mouth is fuzzy, your head heavy, and opening your eyes takes immense strength. But you heart surges at the sight you find once they’re open - steel and white eyes, and twin smiles.

“I was right,” Volt says with a wink, “I did just love watching that, live wire.”

Eddie hums an agreement. You feel his fingers next, rougher and powerful, along your cheek. “Think you can sit up, baby?”

Actually, the wood was strangely comfortable, but you nod. Four hands gently lift you up, and Eddie holds your face once you’re settled, giving you small strokes with his thumbs, and for the first time tonight, the tension has left his face. His grey eyes are calmer, the storm finally passed, and the lines between his eyes have relaxed.

“How you feeling?” he asks, voice soft. You can only nod, give him a smile small, which he returns. Volt’s fingers stroke the side of your arm, and you hum a little sound of contentment. Eddie does too, but something flashes across his face. “Good. Baby, I’m… sorry for how I was earlier.”

You shake your head and bring a hand up to his chest. “No, it’s okay -”

“No. I am. I don’t want you to think I could ever really be angry at you.” It’s worry, you realize, that just clouded his gaze, and you lean into his touch. “Volt’s more used to my moods, I know, and I -”

“Eddie.” You press your whole palm against his chest, like how he and Volt do when they think you aren’t looking. “I know. It’s okay.” You smile when his eyes soften. “I love you no matter your mood.”

The relief he must feel is nearly tangible - his shoulders relax, and he pulls his face to yours. His lips are sweet, and taste like whiskey, a warmth in your heart blooming again at his touch. He pulls away after a moment, turns your head with the hand on your cheek, and you smile again when you see Volt’s waiting face. His kiss is like a firework, and you melt into it for a moment, before Eddie’s hand pulls you away again, and you watch their lips meet in front of yours.

Ours, you think. You are theirs, and they are yours. Ours.

#date everything #eddie and volt #volt date everything #eddie date everything #date everything smut #eddie x volt #date everything x reader #eddie and volt x reader #eddie x volt x reader #eddison watts x reader

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butterfly-wingss · 1 month ago

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Brother

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Jason had broken his phone when he was having ecto withdrawals, pit madness episode, whatever it was. it was usually destructive, he not cognisant of the world around him.

Jason woke up at the sound of a window opening. In a blink he had grabbed a gun from the night stand and jumped to the bedroom door.

He prowls through the apartment, sticking to the shadows. There’s a man in his kitchen.

“Show yourself or I put a bullet in your head.”

“Just me little wing.” Casually, looking through his cupboards for something.

“What do you want dick head, and this better be quick.” Pointedly keeping the gun trained on him.

“We’re worried about you-“

“Who’s this we?”

“Little wing,” dick pleads.

“No. Bruce is pissed at how I run the Alley. Well he can stay out of it. I control the Alley not him. If he wants to kick me out of his little child soldier club, if he wants to ban me from the mansion, from dinners, and the library, and seeing Alfie than fucking fine but he has to live with that himself!”

“He can’t just send one of you to fix all his problems. And he better be the one telling Alfie why I can’t come to dinner like I promised because its his fucking fault.”

Dick snaps. “I’m not trying to fix anything! You go off the rails again and kill someone in front of B then no one can contact you for three days?! I was worried.”

Three? It should have only been two, it’s dangerous when he loses time, he’ll have to go back through his security cams and make sure he didn’t leave the apartment.

“One, I’m fucking fine.” He spit out. “Two, I didn’t kill ‘some rando’ in front of B, a fucking five year old found me and asked me to stop her dad from touching her so I made sure he couldn’t touch anyone ever again! And three? I don’t need to be checked on, I don’t need a fucking babysitter, I don’t need to follow B’s rules.”

Jason’s breathing heavy, he wants to pace. Instead he puts all his focus into keeping his gun steady.

“So get the fuck out of my home!” Ice on the back of his neck. Danny’s hands. He’s training keeps him from flinching.

He must be invisible because Dick doesn’t look over Jason’s shoulder. “Why should I? You’re my brother and I’m worried about you!”

With his fire quelled by the kings ice so too is his anger. All that’s left is exhaustion. “Fuck off, just get the fuck out.”

“Are you sick?”

What? “No?”

“This isn’t how you react. To anything. You don’t do this little wing? Whats wrong?”

“I’m tired, dick. I’m fucking tired. If you want to help then leave, let me sleep.” Jason pleads.

“Go ahead, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“No. You will leave.” The only being more stubborn than a bat is another bat. They’re little staring contest could have gone on for five seconds or five minutes.

“Do you have someone over?” He dose his best to not show anything on his face.

“What are you talking about.”

“You have a tub neapolitan ice cream. You tell people you like it because everyone likes at least one flavour. By yourself you get strawberry.”

Dick continues his analysis. “If it was Roy he’d be out here by now. Any of the outlaws would.”

“I know other people.”

“So you admit someone is over?” stupid family full of stupid fucking detectives.

“There’s nothing to admit and there’s no one for you to meet. Now fuck off already before I start shooting.” More tired than mad.

Dick sighs and finally leaves his kitchen. “Fine. Have it your way. I’m not responsible for Tim or Damian coming over tomorrow though. If I tell them not to it’ll just make them show up faster.”

“Fine.” Jason kept his gun trained on dick until he left, through the front door this time. He waited a full five seconds to make sure his bother was gone before his knees gave out.

Danny caught him. He always does.

“Hey birdie,” soft as freshly fallen snow.

“Please just,” the way his voice warbles catches him off guard “Can we just go back to bed.”

He’s shaking and his tears are welling up in his eyes and he knows he must look pathetic but he can’t help it.

He needs Danny’s cooling touch. He needs his comfort. He needs to be by his kings side.

Danny must takes great pity on him. He picks Jason up in a princess hold and carries him to bed.

#fanfic #dead on main #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny phantom #red hood #jason todd x danny fenton

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syrecjh · 1 month ago

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─★🪐 ̟ !!⋆⭒Battlefield Proposal

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ || katsuki bakugo x reader

The sky is broken.

Gray clouds hang heavy above the smoldering wreckage of what used to be a city center. The wind carries smoke, ash, and the faint smell of ozone from quirk discharge. A building groans as it finally gives in to the damage and collapses with a hollow, gut-punching thud. Somewhere behind you, a car alarm cries weakly into the void like a heartbeat trying to outlive a flatline.

You press your palm to your side where your suit is ripped, warm blood sticking through your gloves. It hurts to breathe. It hurts more to stop.

“Oi,” Katsuki barks, his voice rough like gravel chewed up by flame. He’s just ahead, chest heaving, the angles of his jaw lit by orange flame. There’s soot smeared on his cheek, a shallow cut above his brow, and something in his eyes that makes the marrow in your bones tremble.

“Keep movin’. We ain’t stoppin’ here.”

But he does stop.

Right there—between a fallen traffic light and a crater still sizzling with leftover energy. Sirens echo in the distance. The city's on its knees. And so is he.

You freeze.

“Katsuki?” you rasp. “What the hell are you—?”

His knee hits concrete like a thunderclap. Not from weakness. From intention.

You stare. Time slows.

“Shut up.” His voice is hoarse, heavy with dust and emotion. “Just—fuckin’ shut up a second.”

He’s kneeling, knee pressed into cracked concrete, and his hand is trembling—not from fear of dying, but from the terrifying possibility of never saying what he needs to say.

“There’s no time,” you whisper, throat closing, heart hammering in your ears.

“Exactly.” He looks up at you, raw and real and bleeding from a cut above his brow. “That’s why I’m doin’ this now.”

“No,” you whisper, already shaking your head, blood rushing in your ears. “You’re not—you’re not doing this now.”

His fingers fumble into the blackened edge of his gear—past the broken clips, the dust, the cracked metal—and pull something out. Small. Circular. Bent just slightly from the blast. A ring.

You blink like it’ll disappear if you look too hard.

“I ain’t got another fuckin’ minute to waste,” he growls, voice trembling in a way his hands never did in battle. “Been carryin’ this around like an idiot waitin’ for some perfect time.”

You can’t speak. The air’s too thick. Or maybe your chest is too full.

"And you think this is perfect?"

“No but now look where we are,” he huffs, looking at you like you’re the only steady thing left in this crumbling universe. “If one of us doesn’t make it outta this—shit, if you don’t, if I don't—I need you to know.”

“To know what?” your voice cracks like glass.

He meets your gaze. Fierce. Honest. Like war and worship all at once.

“That you’re it. You always fuckin’ were.”

Your knees give out. You’re on the ground before you realize it, crouched in front of him, tears streaking down your dirt-stained face.

“I’m not saying yes because I think we’re dying,” you whisper, clutching the ring like it’s a lifeline.

“I know.”

“I’m saying yes because I wanted to say it since last winter, and I was just scared and stupid and—”

He leans in. Foreheads collide, noses bump. The kiss is quick, fiery, unfinished.

“Then let’s make it out,” he says. “You and me. Together. Always.”

The wind howls again, shaking windows still barely hanging on. But inside this ruin, in the firelit silence between you both, something whole is born.

Hope.

He slides the ring into your ring finger. His fingers linger there, pressed to your heart. Like a vow.

And then the moment’s gone—because the city rumbles again, and reality snaps its jaws back open.

But you run differently now. You fight harder.

Because the ring is in your finger, warm from his hand. Because your blood runs next to his now—not just in battle, but in promise.

A battlefield proposal.

Born in fire. Held in grit.

And if you survive?

God help the world.

You’ll burn it down together in love.

And one day—when the dust has settled, and the skies have cleared—you'll tell the story of how love asked for forever at the edge of the end.

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headkiss · 2 years ago

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something more

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.

word count: 6.6k

warnings: friends to lovers, the team being a little nosy, pining idiots!!!, probably inaccurate descriptions of bau jobs (for the plot!), a very small injury, a birthday, a first kiss, and fluff!

a/n: hiii this one has been a long time coming so thank you guys for being so patient with me!!! and special thanks to the anon who requested this one! i hope u guys enjoy it and please please let me know what you think <3 ily

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Aaron Hotchner was never someone you thought you could be this close to.

Coming to the BAU, you’d been intimidated more than anything. As Unit Chief, he’s got a reputation that’s hard to ignore. Professional, brave, cold when he has to be. His success and talent were undeniable, and all you wanted to do was prove that you belonged there, too.

Then, you really met him, and he surprised you in a way you hadn’t expected. Hotch was kind right off the bat, welcoming you to the team with a smile that felt like some sort of prize.

He was an excellent boss. Understanding and protective, quick to defend anyone on the team like they were his own family. Except, he was so much more than just your boss.

Now, you’d call him your closest friend, someone who’s number you’d call if you were in trouble. He’s your closest friend and yet you feel so much more for him.

It started slow, a friendship blooming the way a plant does with just enough sunlight. It was a shared smile here, a nudge of the shoulder there. It grew to be a seat next to him reserved for you on every plane ride.

Today, it’s eating lunch with him in his office.

Aaron usually works through lunch, more eager to get things done than he is to worry about skipping a meal. Somehow, with two tupperware containers in your hand and a sweet smile, you’d managed to get him to take a break.

“Whatcha doing?” You’d asked.

Hotch looked up from his paperwork then, dropping his pen because you were in his doorway. “You know, Unit Chief business. Reports.”

“Sounds like you have time for lunch, then.” You set the containers down on his desk, making sure to avoid the papers he’d just been working on.

“I should really get this done-”

“Hotch,” you stopped him, “you and I both know that you’re always ahead on this stuff because you stay here so late. Lunch won’t set you back.”

With a shake of his head and the biting back of a smile, a simple twitch at the corners of his mouth, Aaron agreed and stacked his paperwork off to the side.

That’s how you’ve ended up in the chair that’s usually on the opposite side of his desk, only now it’s tugged to be next to his. Your knees touch every so often when one of you shifts, and the warmth stays with you even when the contact is gone.

“Sorry it’s nothing fancy,” you say as he opens the container you brought for him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s great.” Hotch has a way of saying things that make them sound true, no matter how few words he uses, so you accept it.

“Okay, good!” There’s a small silence, a lull as you both take your first bites. “Can I help with anything?”

Aaron looks from the paperwork to your face, your eyes already on his. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you reassure him. “I think sometimes you forget that you aren’t the only one who can do this stuff.”

He knocks his knee against yours. Purposeful this time. A silent ‘thank you.’

“Like you said, I’m ahead anyways. I’ve got it.”

“Come on, Hotch. I’m already done with my report from our last case. I’ve got time. Let me help.”

He’s always been reluctant to accept help, to ask for it, but when you’re asking so sweetly, when it’ll give him an excuse to spend more time with you, it’s hard for Aaron to say no.

“Alright. You help for an hour, that’s it.”

You grin at him, like his acceptance of your offer was some kind of gift he’d given you. Your nose crinkles a little with it, and his hand flexes in his lap, like he’s fighting not to reach out to you.

“Okay, put me to work, boss.”

“We just started lunch,” he says, a little chuckle puffing out.

“Have you ever heard of multitasking, Agent Hotchner?”

Aaron laughs, shaking his head as he reaches for one of the files in the stack he’d made and hands it to you. He’d call everyone at the BAU a friend, but there’s something different, something more about how he’d describe you.

He’s grown closer to you than he usually lets himself get to people, like you’re the only one with the right tools to break through walls he’s put up. You see each other outside of work (on the rare days you aren’t working), and still, he feels like it’s never long enough.

Hotch briefly wonders if he could just move your desk into his office. He shakes off the thought and what it might mean.

Head bent, you’re now focused on the work he gave you, and Aaron takes the chance to admire you. His eyes flick over your profile, the light hitting your cheeks, the flutter of your eyelashes every time you blink.

As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turn towards him and smile—a small, closed-mouth smile, but a smile all the same—before turning your attention back to the page.

When you take a pause and take another bite of your lunch, a small drop of sauce lands on your thigh. “Oh, shit.”

Aaron grabs a tissue from the box on his desk, wrapping it over his fingertip before wiping the small spot from your leg, his finger a spark against you even through your pants.

“Good thing you wore black,” he says, tossing the tissue in the garbage. His hand, however, stays on your leg, and though the touch is light the weight of it feels the opposite. Heavy, huge.

“Good thing you’re here to clean up after me, more like.”

Your eyes meet, and you share a smile with Hotch the way you often do. Mid-conversation, across a room, it’s a smile you sort of reserve for each other.

In the main office below, Derek, Spencer, and JJ stand together, watching the interaction through the window into Hotch’s office. You and Aaron seem to be in your own bubble, completely unaware of your small audience.

“They’ve gotta be together,” Derek is the first to speak, waving a hand towards the office where you and Hotch are talking. “I mean, come on.”

“I don’t know,” JJ shrugs, “they both seem kinda clueless.”

“We probably shouldn’t speculate about them,” Spencer, always the sweetheart, says. “But, statistically, Hotch never eats lunch. Just saying.”

JJ pats Reid on the shoulder, huffing out a laugh before she heads back to her desk.

You stay in Aaron’s office much longer than an hour that day.

Punctuality is important in the BAU. Really, if you’re not early, you’re late. You’ve always got to be ready, wheels up in ten, or five.

You suppose that doesn’t really apply to outside-of-the-office parties at Garcia’s.

It’s rare that you’re all available at the same time, from late nights at the bureau to families, it’s tough to make your schedules line up when you aren’t working, which is why whenever she can, Penelope likes to host drinks for the team.

You’re on your way there now, or, you should be. Instead, you’re getting ready in your bedroom while Aaron waits in your living room.

Hotch has offered to drive you to these things every time, and with every offer, comes your easy answer of ‘yes.’ He’d been outside in his car for five minutes before he decided to call, because you’re usually in his passenger seat within seconds of him pulling over by your building.

The ringing of your phone had your eyes blinking open, squinted against the sudden brightness of your TV. You’d accidentally fallen asleep, and, still disoriented, picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, everything okay?” It’s Aaron’s voice on the other line, and you pull your phone away for a second to check the time before sitting up quickly.

“Shit, Hotch, I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I can wait for you.” He’d wait as long as you need, he thinks. The thought passes through like a leaf blown in the wind, freely, randomly.

“Have you been waiting long?” You ask, fingers tugging at a loose thread in your pants.

“No, don’t worry. Barely five minutes.”

And he still wanted to check on you.

“Why don’t you come in? My couch is probably more comfortable than your car, right?”

“You sure?” He checks, like he hasn’t been to your place before, like you’d ever not want him there.

“Get in here, Hotchner.”

You hung up before he could reply, and he laughed to himself in his car before shutting it off and doing exactly what you’d told him.

So, now, you’re rushing to find an outfit while Aaron sits on your couch by himself.

Even though he’s in the next room, you can feel his presence around you, the steady security he gives you, the warmth that seeps out of him even when he tries to hide it.

You settle on a knitted sweater, a skirt, and some tights, which you realize as you tug them on aren't the speediest of options, but it’s too late to change your mind now. With your hair figured out and the mascara that had smudged during your nap fixed, you step back out into the living room.

Aaron made himself at home while you were gone (he often feels that way with you, at home), sitting on your couch with his arms spread across the back. He looks better than he should there, suit stretched across his shoulders, and you have to clear your throat to snap yourself out of it.

“Okay, sorry again for the delay. I’m ready to go.”

He looks up as soon as you walk in, eyes skimming over your legs and the tights wrapped around them, your waist, up your neck. His gaze lands on your eyes the way it often does, like magnets.

He shakes his head, “don’t be sorry. We’ll be what they call ‘fashionably late.’”

You laugh, because who would’ve thought that the words ‘fashionably late’ would ever come out of Aaron Hotchner’s mouth.

“Who taught you that one, huh?”

“I like to keep my sources anonymous.”

“Well okay, then. Let’s go be fashionably late, Hotch.”

He lets you lead the way to the car, only jogging up ahead to open your door before you can reach it yourself.

During the drive to Penelope’s, you take control of the music with little objection from Aaron, and when it gets to a song you know he likes, you sing along, encouraging him to do the same.

“Let’s hear it, Agent Hotchner.” You hold your fist out like there’s a microphone in it, looking at him with a grin on your face.

“I can't sing.” Aaron’s fighting off a smile, because you’re sitting beside him, not too shy to sing along, being all cute and, briefly, he thinks about reaching out and grabbing your hand and holding on.

“Sure you can! Everyone can sing, come on.” You unfurl your faux microphone-holding fist and tug on the knot of his tie, “loosen up a little.”

And, because you have some way of convincing him of things—first lunch, now this—he humors you by joining in for one chorus of the song. When your eyes light up a little, and your grin only widens, he can’t bring himself to be too concerned of how bad he probably sounds.

By the time you’re at Garcia’s door you’re a solid hour late, yet you and Aaron walk up to the door with matching smiles all the same.

“I’m getting you to do that every time I hear that song now, I hope you know.”

“That was a one time special,” he says. He reaches over your shoulder to knock on the door. His hand brushes against you, featherlight and quick, a crackle over your skin.

On the other side, Morgan says, “must be the lovebirds” when he hears the sound.

You and Aaron don’t hear him, only broken out of your little shared bubble when Penelope opens the door. “There you guys are! I made your drinks but the ice might be melted by now. You know, ‘cause you’re late.”

You know this is directed towards you more than it is Hotch, because Garcia’s a little intimidated by him still. You also know she’s only joking, and greet her with a hug before stepping in.

Aaron isn’t far behind you, though at these things, he never is.

You’re met with warm greetings from the team when you walk in, and you chat for a bit, but it isn’t long before things split off into smaller conversations. They all know that Aaron drives you to these things, and, as profilers, they’re also all able to see the way you look at each other, the way the knot of his tie sits lower than usual.

In the corner, Emily leans over to Derek, saying, “usually it takes at least two drinks for Hotch’s tie to look like that.”

“I told you, they’re together,” Derek shrugs.

“I don’t think they know that,” Emily replies.

This time, Aaron hears them, and he can’t help but look towards you in the room the rest of the night, thinking and thinking and thinking.

He ends up deciding that they might have a point. That maybe, that shift in his heartbeat when you’re around isn’t nothing, isn’t just friends.

The flight home from a case always feels the longest.

On the way there, you’re packing every hour with information about what’s going on, talking to Garcia, reading police reports. You’re all on edge, eager to get out there and help and do your jobs,

Then, on the way home, with another case solved, all you’re thinking about is going home, sleeping in your own bed, and time seems to go slower.

If your name happens to be Aaron Hotchner, you’d spend the plane ride home doing paperwork that actually can wait.

You and Aaron sit next to each other on pretty much every flight, though the seats have never been assigned. It’s an unspoken thing, like your names are written on the fabric of the same two seats on the jet and that’s just the way it is.

The first time was early on in your time on the team. It was a tough case for you, and Hotch seemed to know it without you having to say anything, so, when you got on the jet to come home, he smiled that small, twitch of his lips smile at you and nodded at the seat next to him. You’ve been sitting there ever since.

Today, your flight is on the shorter side, but feels long the way it always does. Trying to keep yourself occupied, you pull out your earbuds and shuffle your playlist, hoping that the songs will speed things up.

“Sick of me already?” Hotch speaks up when he notices your headphones.

You tilt your head to look at him. He looks tired, the way you’re sure you do, too, but never any less handsome. His eyes are soft where they meet yours, paired with a hint of a smile that you’re always able to catch.

“Sick of you, Hotch? Never.” You nod at the file he has open on the small table, “just didn’t want to distract you.”

“I thought you enjoyed distracting me. Always telling me I work too much.”

“‘Cause it’s true,” you say. “That doesn’t mean you listen.”

“I listen to you more than I listen to most people.” Aaron’s voice is gentle when he says it, the words sinking in and melting you just a little, sugary sweet. It could mean absolutely nothing, but with the way he keeps his eyes steady on yours, you don’t think it does.

“Listen to this, then,” you hand him one of your earbuds, and his fingers brush yours when he takes it from you. “But you can’t make fun of me if a musical soundtrack comes on, okay?”

“Okay,” he huffs a small laugh, and you feel a little brighter. “I promise.”

You’re aware of the team having their own conversations in the rows in front of you and Hotch, but you can’t bring yourself to join in, because you and Aaron are sharing your earbuds and his head is bent just a little closer to yours. It’s delicate, and you’ll do your best not to break it.

You talk a little longer, until it naturally fizzles out and Hotch is back to working on his files and you’re bobbing your head along to your songs. Only now, Aaron sits closer to you, his arm against yours.

He’s not sure what to do with his newfound realization that his feelings for you run far deeper than friendship. All Aaron knows is that he likes the feeling of you beside him, and that he’s planning on keeping you there as long as you’ll let him.

It’s quiet between the two of you aside from your occasional ‘this is a good one,’ and his hum of acknowledgement.

Eventually, you’re relaxed enough that your eyes grow heavy, the sleep you’ve been lacking suddenly catching up to you, and when you hit a patch of slower songs you’re fighting to stay awake.

When your head lulls onto Hotch’s shoulder, you jerk your head up, “sorry, Aaron.”

His chest does something funny. A jump. It’s not often you call him Aaron, and he’d listen to the sound of his name on your lips on a loop if he could. Because he can’t help himself, he scooches himself even closer to you.

He decides to call you something different, too, saying, “it’s alright, honey.”

You’re too sleepy to really read into that one, all you feel is the flutter in your stomach and Aaron’s hand on your head, gently guiding it to his shoulder.

When he’s sure you’re asleep, Hotch looks away from his files and over to you. Your cheek is squished against his shoulder, your lashes fanned shut. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Aaron doesn’t even feel the smile that spreads over his face as he reaches up and pushes your hair away from your face. He’s completely unaware of the eyes that catch him, far too focused on you.

Emily turned around when she realized she hadn’t heard your voice in a bit, and she did it just in time to catch Hotch’s movement. Instead of saying something, she turns back around and shakes her head to herself.

Hopeless, she thinks.

Sleep doesn’t come so easily with this job, with the things you see, so Aaron can’t help but try and stay steady for you, and if that leads to him letting his eyes close and resting his head on yours, then so be it.

It’s not until the end of the flight that the team checks on the two of you. As everyone stands and grabs their go bags, they notice the two of you, asleep next to each other, earbud wires hanging between you.

“Should we wake them up?” JJ asks.

“Hotch doesn’t get enough sleep as it is,” Spencer chimes in. “Neither does she, actually.”

Of course, Derek finishes with, “let’s leave the lovebirds to it,” before the team gets off the plane.

It’s only about twenty minutes later that Aaron does wake up, but he feels more well-rested than he has in a while, even with the kink in his neck.

Blinking his eyes open, he’s met with an empty jet and the comforting weight of your head on his shoulder. “Shit,” he sighs.

He debates waking you, ultimately deciding that you’d probably rather sleep in your bed rather than the seat of the BAU’s jet. Reaching up, he pulls your earbuds away, setting them on the table. With a brush of his fingertips to your cheek, he coaxed you awake.

“Hey, honey,” Aaron’s nearly whispering, like he’s afraid to scare you. Or, maybe, he’s convinced that if he moves too quickly, too loudly, this whole thing will fade away as if he’d been dreaming. “Wake up, we’re home.”

“Hm?” You grumble, scrunching your nose when he brushes your cheek again.

“We fell asleep, but we landed.”

“Oh, god.” You sit up properly, lifting your head. “I’m sorry, Aaron. Hotch.”

“Aaron is good,” he eases you. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”

Sleep-hazed, or maybe just happy that he can be Aaron to you, you agree easily and take his hand when he offers it, letting him lead you to his car.

You’ve been spending more time at Aaron’s ever since that flight. In the car, he’d convinced you to stay over at his place in the guest room, since it was closer. With your go bag already in his car and heavy, sleepy eyes, it was hard for you to do anything but agree.

It’s another slice of his life that he’s let you see, and you can’t help but feel like it means something, like you’re stepping further and further away from being coworkers who are friends and towards something different. Something more.

That flight feels like the catalyst, the thing that caused things to shift into what they are now.

Aaron’s couch is much more comfortable than yours, and though you’ve yet to spend the night again, you’re sitting there with him at almost every chance. The time off you get is rare, and Aaron wanting to spend it with you sends flutters to your stomach whenever you think about it.

You feel like you know him better, getting to see his space, how he chose to decorate, what colors he likes, which ones he doesn’t. You also know what temperature he likes to set his thermostat.

“Do you enjoy living in a refrigerator?” You ask, hands tucked into your sleeves. “Just wondering.”

Aaron laughs, a small huff, “I think you just run cold, honey.”

He’s been calling you that a lot, too. Honey.

“No way, Hotchner. Your house is what runs cold. Or maybe you’re cold-blooded.”

Not with you, he thinks. Years and years of doing what he does, Hotch might even call himself cold when he’s thinking a little too hard. But never cold with you. He thinks that might be impossible for him.

“Shhh, don’t tell anyone my secret,” he says, his arm brushing against yours from where he sits next to you on his couch. “Where are you cold?”

“Can’t feel my toes, Aaron. I might be out of commission for the next case.”

“Well we can’t lose our best girl, can we?” Best girl, he says. Like he means it, like it’s simple. “I’ve got some thick socks you can grab. Bottom drawer.”

Just like that, he’s cracked another wall of his down even further, giving you permission to go into his bedroom as if you’ve been in there a thousand times.

“Really?”

“Unless you’d rather not feel your toes-“

“Okay, okay,” you stop him, unable to fight your smile. “Thanks, Aaron.”

When you stand and head towards his room, Aaron can’t stop himself from thinking that you belong there, in his home, his room, his life. You fit in so seamlessly he wishes you’d never leave.

He stands up too, because the couch suddenly feels sort of empty without you beside him, without your warmth. He walks over to his thermostat on the wall and turns it up for you.

You’ve always thought that you can tell a lot about a person from where they live, and seeing Aaron’s bedroom now solidifies it. His place does too, but there’s something about his bedroom that feels much more personal.

Here, there’s more of him, little bits of his life scattered around. A picture of him as a kid with his parents on the dresser, the newspaper’s crossword sitting completely finished on his nightstand, his bed neatly made.

You smile at the framed photo before slipping the top drawer open and finding the pair of socks he’d been talking about. As much as you’d love to snoop, you don’t want to invade his privacy in any way. Besides, from Aaron, even a glimpse of his space feels special.

You slip on the socks before you leave his room, letting them bunch at your ankles.

As soon as you walk back into the living room, Aaron’s phone rings. Glancing at you softly, almost apologetically though he’s got nothing to be sorry about—you work with him, you know how important a call can be—he picks it up.

“Hotchner,” he says, holding it to his ear. His voice is different this way, more professional, controlled. Never any less pleasing to hear.

He’d wanted to say something about how good you look in his clothes when his phone rang, Garcia’s name flashing on the screen. Aaron wishes it was someone else, only to spend more time with you this way.

“Sorry to call late, sir,” Penelope says. “We’ve got a case. Missing kid; it’s urgent.”

“Don’t be sorry, Garcia. We’re on our way.”

“Wait, we?” She asks, curious as always.

“What’s going on?” You ask Aaron.

“Got a case. I’ll drive, honey.” He lets the pet name slip, like it’s a habit.

On the other line, Garcia’s grinning to herself in her office. She’d had a suspicion of who on the team Hotch would be with outside of work, and hearing your voice, and his use of the word ‘honey’ all sticky sweet, she knows she’s onto something.

“Oh, that’s ‘we,’” Penelope’s voice teases. “Tell her I’ll see you guys soon!”

Aaron shakes his head, fighting his smile. “Bye, Garcia.”

He hangs up and looks from his phone to you, your eyes already on him, corners of your mouth tugged up just a little like you’d heard what Garcia said, heard the lilt in her voice. Like you liked the idea of you and Aaron being a unit. We.

He likes that idea, too.

Back at the BAU, Garcia calls Derek next, who picks up with his classic, “hey, babygirl.”

First, she tells him that he needs to come into the office, that they’ve got a case, then, “you’re never going to believe this.”

Penelope loves to talk, and Derek’s happy to listen, so she tells him about how you’d been with Aaron when she called, and that you were on your way together.

“I give them another week, max, before they’re holding hands when they come in.” Derek laughs, because he can see yours and Hotch’s feelings so easily, plain as day, and he loves to be right about things.

“How mad will Hotch be when he finds out that we talk about his relationship?” Penelope’s mostly joking, only a fraction concerned.

“If the boss didn’t want us talking about it, he shouldn’t be so obvious, sweetheart.”

Once you arrive at the office, you don’t catch Penelope and Derek’s shared looks behind yours and Aaron’s—who happens to be carrying both his and your go bag—backs.

And if anyone notices the loose socks around your ankles, they don’t say anything about it.

You’re not supposed to go off on your own unless it’s absolutely necessary. You know that, the team knows that. Aaron, who is always trying to keep you as safe as possible, enforces it.

You guess that this time might be up for debate.

When it comes to what you do, you have to trust your instincts most of the time. And today, your gut told you to make a decision that might not have been safe, but to you, it felt like what you had to do.

Aaron had been on the phone with you, trying to figure out a way to make the car drive any faster to get to you. He’d heard it in your voice, in the tone of it, that he couldn’t convince you to wait for someone else to show up.

“I have to do this, Aaron,” you’d said. While the team would normally probably tease him about you calling him Aaron, as if it isn’t his name, they’d known not to interrupt this time. “You know I do.”

“You don’t have to.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he spoke. “We’ll be there soon, alright? Just-”

“I’m sorry.” And then, you hung up.

In the end, going in when you did had been the right move. A life had been saved, and you’d slowed the guy down enough that the police were able to arrest him when they arrived. All it cost you was a cut and a bruise on your cheek.

So, your instincts weren’t so bad.

Aaron, however, disagrees. Logically, he knows that he would’ve done the exact same thing you did, knows the rest of the team would’ve, too. But when it comes to you, he has a hard time thinking logically.

After you hung up on him, all he could do was breathe and breathe and breathe over the heavy thumping of his heartbeat and the worry spinning in his head. He drove the quickest he could manage, the car silent inside. A static.

It’s not that he doubts your abilities—he’s always thought you were incredible, even before the friendship, even before now—only that the idea of you being alone with such a bad man makes him feel sick.

He’d take your place in a heartbeat, if he could, just to make sure you’d be safe.

By the time he and the rest of the team get to the scene, you’re walking out of the building with a hand pressed to your cheek and a paramedic leading you to a nearby ambulance.

Aaron spots you right away, his eyes scanning the small crowd through red and blue lights and conversations surrounding him. When he spots you, everything goes quiet.

His first thought is, thank god she’s alive, then, it’s fuck, she’s hurt.

Without a word to anyone, he heads over in your direction right away. He meets you at the ambulance, where you sit on the small bench inside while the paramedic presses your cheek with gauze.

“Honey.” It comes out in a breath. Relief and pain all at once.

You look over to him, his hair a little messy, his eyes wide and roaming all over you like he’s checking for any other injuries. He cares about you, and it’s written all over him.

“Aaron. I’m okay.” You hold a hand out, and he grabs it, sitting beside you on the bench in the ambulance. “Promise.”

For now, he nods, letting the paramedic do their job bandaging up your cheek. When they’re finished, they hand you a spare bandage saying, “it’s gonna bruise, and it might feel sore for a bit, but you’re all patched up.”

The paramedic leaves after that, probably going to check on other people. The lights inside the ambulance seem to cocoon you, a bright difference to the darkness outside.

The first thing Aaron says is, “let me see.”

His hands reach for your face, rough fingertips gently holding your jaw, tilting you so that he can look at your cheek. It’s a little swollen, discolored where you must’ve been hit. There’s a furrow in his brow, something that looks like a pout on none other than Aaron Hotchner.

“Hey,” you grab his wrists, but his hands stay on your face. “I’m fine.”

Aaron’s always worried, he’s always cared about you and about everyone on the team, but this is different. He was usually able to hide things much better than this. Much better than with you.

Now, all he sees is the tiny bloodstain on your shirt and the bandage on your cheek. All he feels is your hands squeezing his wrists and your eyes locked on his.

“You should have waited,” he says. “I could have been there.”

“Hotchner,” your deadpan tone is intact, which he’ll take as a win, even if it’s directed towards him. “You and I both know you would have done the same. I had to.”

One of his hands shifts to cup your non-injured cheek. Normally, he’d be much more composed while working, but he can’t bring himself to care about how he must look right now.

“I know you did,” he tells you, because he does. “I just wish that you didn’t. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Your stomach is tumbling, rolling, your heart doing silly things in your chest. You can hardly feel the pain of your cheek anymore when his hand is on the other, his palm warm against your skin, his gaze even warmer.

“I’m hardly hurt, Aaron. Just a scratch.”

“Right. One that required medical attention. That’s more than just a scratch, honey.”

“If you say so, Hotchner.”

He shifts his hands so that they fall into your lap, palms up and fingers instantly finding yours, tangling together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces.

“Good job, by the way.” Hotch rubs his thumb over your skin once, back and forth. “You did the right thing.”

“Learned from the best,” you say.

You’re both oblivious to the fact that the team is watching from a distance, and that the two of you look so lovesick it’s ridiculous that you haven’t spilled your feelings yet. You’re both absolutely fucked.

Where she stands with the team, Emily shakes her head, “I haven’t seen Hotch like this since… ever.”

Beside her, JJ merely shrugs, like it’s obvious, “yeah, they’re in love.”

Spencer looks at you and Aaron in that ambulance with a smile. “The odds of you guys being right are very, very high.”

Aaron Hotchner was never the biggest fan of birthdays. Was never big into the cakes and making wishes, the song and the presents and the fuss of it all.

When he started at the bureau, it stayed that way. Days off were rare enough as it was, so he’d always work on his birthday. And while he kept the signed cards from the team, he treated it as any other day. Nothing special.

This year, you’re on a mission to change that.

While it isn’t the first of Aaron’s birthdays you’ve spent with him, it’s the first one since the two of you have grown as close as you have, since you’ve felt the way you do. You’re just hoping to make it a good birthday for him.

You’ve roped the whole team into it. Decorating the conference room with streamers and balloons and a sign that hangs crooked on the wall, bringing in a cake that reads ‘Happy Birthday Hotch’ in frosting, and keeping it all a secret.

Of course, you’ve all already said happy birthday to him, and you’ve got a present stashed under your desk for later, but you’ve been doing your best to act natural even when the anticipation of your surprise for him eats at your stomach a little.

Surprises are a tricky thing, and there’s no way of knowing whether he’ll like it or not. You’ll just have to wait and see.

While in his office, the team had made it seem like they’d all left for the day, saying their goodbyes to Hotch. Instead of leaving, though, they’ve been hidden in the conference room waiting for you to bring him in.

“Aaron,” you say, knocking on his office door. “I think I lost an earring. Do you think you could help me look for it?”

Because you’re the one asking, Aaron says, “‘course, honey. Where do you think it is?”

You smile, because he’s fallen into your trap easily, because you know that he probably would search for an earring with you if you’d actually lost one.

“I remember having it on in the conference room, so maybe there.”

He stands from his desk, gesturing for you to lead the way with his hand held out. You grab onto it before he can drop it, tangling your fingers and leading him behind you.

Aaron lets you guide him, and when you open the door to the conference room and flick on the lights, he’s met with the team’s grinning faces and a chorus of, “surprise!”

For a moment, he’s speechless, frozen in his spot in the doorway with your hand in his.

No, Aaron’s never been the biggest fan of birthdays, but maybe that’s because nobody’s ever done something like this for him. You came into his life all sweet smiles and now you’re throwing him a surprise party? He’s never ever liked someone the way he likes you.

So much that like is spilling into a four letter word and he’s happy to let it.

You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like being the center of attention too much, so the only people in the room are those of the BAU. His closest friends. And you, his favorite person.

Before he can say anything he’s being spoken to by the team, getting a ‘happy birthday, boss,’ from Derek, a spill about how hard it was to keep this a secret from Penelope, a grin from Spencer, a tip about how you’d organized all of this from Emily, a squeeze to the shoulder from JJ.

When he finally gets the chance, the others split into their own conversations, Aaron tugs you aside to the corner of the room.

“You did all of this for me?” He asks, head bent to catch your eye.

Although you’d caught the signature Hotchner smile—closed-mouthed and quick—when he saw the surprise, you’re nervous about what he might say. You worry that you’ve done too much, that he’d been pretending to like it for your sake.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit much,” you start, anxiously tugging at your sleeves. “I wasn’t sure if you liked surprises, I know not everyone does, but I wanted to do something for you because I care about you. A lot. And birthdays are meant to be celebrated, you know?”

Aaron can’t help but let a smile spread over his face as you speak; a real smile. His heart is light, his feelings for you melting through him like the soft pink of cotton candy. He doesn’t think you could ever do anything that he wouldn’t like.

“I’ll clean it all up, too, I prom-”

Your rambling is cut off with his lips on yours. He’s kissing you.

It’s soft, the press of his mouth against yours, and it takes you a second to push back. It stays delicate, a dance between the two of you like you’d practiced a million times before.

His hands skate down your arms to hold your hands, weaving his fingers with yours, squeezing like he’s making sure you know this is real.

You feel it all over, your stomach tumbling, your heart beating in a rhythm that thumps his name. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, over and over.

It’s a kiss worth a thousand words that you haven’t said yet, a kiss full of feelings and meaning and you know it, just by the way he does it, because you know him and he knows you. It’s you and Aaron, and it feels like the beginning of something huge. Of the rest of your life, maybe.

When he pulls back, Hotch rests his forehead against yours, giving your head a gentle nudge, locking his brown eyes on yours.

“It’s perfect,” he says.

The next thing you hear is Derek Morgan cheering, “I knew it!”

Similar words come from the rest of the team.

“Finally,” from Emily.

“About time,” from JJ.

“This isn’t surprising,” from Spencer, who smiles while saying it.

A sweet, “yay,” from Penelope.

Distracted by Aaron kissing you, you’d sort of forgotten they were there. Bashful, you tuck your head beneath Aaron’s chin, forehead against his collar. He simply tightens his hands around yours.

And when it’s time for cake, this year, Aaron Hotchner makes a wish on his birthday candles. He wishes to spend every other birthday just like this. With you.

༄

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you liked it, please please please consider reblogging/commenting and letting me know what you thought! love you <3

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shmpxx · 11 months ago

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HIS TRUE COLORS — h.y

⛤ hiori yo x fem! reader

⟢ Unlike everyone else you’re not fond of Hiori yo, you have an instinct he has another side of him.

cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampie. sadism. dacryphilia. praising. biting + marking. cervix kissing. nipple play. false innocence. aftercare. masochist! reader. sadist! hiori. +18!

w☆rd count. 1.3k

a/n: I’m still here guys, don’t worry!

Something about hiori yo, you ultimately disliked. There was no way he was this “nice” guy that absolutely everyone adored even your friends, you know that theres another side to him that you simply just couldn’t put your finger on it yet. You’re very clear on how you felt about him, you would roll your eyes and scoff when he spoke, when everyone would laugh with him you just sat there with your arms crossed and your brows furrowed.

Hiori had always known your despise against him since the first time you both met, you never tried to be discreet about it. He would say hello to you in the morning of class but you would ignore him, not even a glance at him. You would mutter a curse under your breath when he still gives you a warm smile, you would cringe and everyone would scold you to be nice and to stop acting like a child, he does nothing but show you kindness and you should reciprocate that. Like hell you should.

“I just don’t like him” you couldn’t really explain further more until you know when you find evidence on him and prove to everyone he is not what he seems to be. There was some doubts still you trusted your gut and went with it.

It was a unlucky day for you when the group decided to go for drinks though your friends were unable to bring you home because they were drunk and decided to stay longer, it was your time to leave because your energy was drained, you couldn’t stay any later and typically Hiori was your only ride home. It was heavily raining too but you’d rather get soaked and catch a cold than be alone with Hiori. You wanted to though you wouldn’t bring yourself to do that so you had to suck it up for your sake. Just ignore him.

Somehow you ended up stripped off your clothes completely bare with nothing on with your legs spread open on your matress. Your upper body is covered in bite marks and purple bruises, your lips were swollen from his excessive kissing.

“You’re really pretty like this under me, ‘s pretty..” Hiori rubbing his cock between your soft folds, his tip brushing lightly on your clit and your humming sweet sounds instead of moans, you totally wanted to deny that you were enjoying this but you were slightly rolling your hips to feel extra of his cock prodding your clit, you think he can’t tell but he can from the way he smirks the way your body reacts.

First of all how did this even happen? He was being thoughtful to walk you to your door but he couldn’t stop glaring at you. Staring you down like he couldn’t wait for you to unlock your door. He let himself in as soon as you turned your key. His hands already making their way to touch you before you could utter a word. Now you can’t recall the last few moments from the way his dick is slipping between your wet folds.

“I was crushing on you hard when we first met..you hated me and now i get to have you”

“Your such..a weirdo!…hah”

The gaze in his eyes changed from gentle to lust. You thought he would be more on the tender side when he got you on your bed and how awfully wrong you are.

“Take it like a good girl okay?” Your ankles rested on top of his shoulders as he shoved his cock into your tight slit. A satisfied expression spreading across his face when you scream out a cry, tears were coming quick and down your face, your squeezing the blanket underneath you. Your lips quivered by his lengthy cock splitting your tensed cunt.

“It hurts hiori!”

“I know…but it’ll feel good”

He didn’t even give you time to adjust, his hips was already snapping against you. Your not telling him to stop, you’re whimpering and whining, taking his cock like you should he thought. There was pain and pleasure you were feeling at the same time, you couldn’t stop babbling how much it hurts but it felt so good he didn’t lie, him making you feel good and he was seeking pleasure from your tears. His cock rubbing intensely inside you and poking at your cervix.

“Yer such a good girl..ya my good girl aren’t you? R-right?”

“S-stop saying w-weird things..” you say with your last breath.

He lowers himself with his lips hovering over your perked nipple, his hands cup your boob fitting it into his mouth. Swirling his tongue and grazes your bud slightly with his teeth, while pinching your other. You moan like a desperation of help, your hand on his shoulders to push him away it was just too hard, even his hips rocking hard into your pussy.

When he sinks his teeth into your skin of your shoulder, neck, over your tits. Even his lips laps the bite marks he already created, he thought were a masterpiece like you were his little artwork. His hands on your hips were soft though his fingers were digging into them, purposely bruising you, still your pussy was clenching around his cock.

“Ow hiori..” you whimper when he bites a little too hard.

“‘M sorry” he licks over the grooves of his teeth marks on your skin to sooth you. Though he was already going to bite you even harder.

The way he watches you shut your eyes tight by every thrust. Your body taking the relentless treatment from the so-called “nice guy”. Your eyebrows pinched together because his cock keeps reaching deep inside your cunt, rubbing against your sweet spot. How could you let this happen? Let the person you despised most and everyone is fond of stretch your pussy out on your bed, the tears won’t stop prickling your eyes.

“Hiori-“ you hiccup

“Shh, just look at me, ya taking me so well,” throwing both your ankles on his shoulder and he pushes his cock deeper makes you gasp. It was like you loss your own sense of control when your eyes fluttered open, the water in your eyes creating a bit of a blur and it gives him excitement.

“‘S cute, ‘s pretty” you never thought he spewed so many words before because he wasn’t very talkative.

You felt it. You felt it bubbling up in your stomach. There’s was no way he was going to make you cum, you so wanted to though. You wouldn’t say it out loud yet you hope he doesn’t stop. And he doesn’t, his moans become heavier and your cries start to get louder.

“M gonna c-cum inside mkay?..”

“Don’t be stupid!..Ah fuck!”

He cums inside just like he said, his warm load stuffing you so quickly and you’re creaming over his cock so perfectly just like how he imagined. The same longing gaze doesn’t leave your face and your palms cover your eyes as you were embarrassed and your walls are still contracting around his cock.

You sat between his legs in a tub as he washes your back but also pressing soft kisses on your wet skin, humming to himself as you were contemplating everything that just happened. You didn’t know what to feel, you just had sex with a guy you loathe and turns out he was just actually a sadist that was interested in you. What would you tell your friends? What would they think? You can’t, you promised you’d prove them wrong but not like how this ended.

His arms come to wrap around your waist and pull you closer into his wet chest surprisingly broad “what are you thinking about?” He mumbles in your ear making you shiver yet your heart skips. You just couldn’t help it and he could feel you tense and your heart pound against his chest.

“About what a weirdo you are..”

#bllk smut #bllk x reader #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #hiori smut #hiori yo #bllk hiori #hiori x reader #blue lock hiori #hiori yo smut

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dearru · 4 months ago

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get well soon | ft. hq boys

-> synopsis: when you’re sick, your boyfriend is more than willing to take care of you.

❀ HINATA SHOYO !

The most irritatingly persistent man you’ve ever met. He is super cheery and optimistic about your recovery, but seeing as he is the picture of fitness, he takes illness very seriously. He refuses to let you do anything that will compromise your health.

It’s a constant push and pull between you two, and tbh he’ll always win. He’s super cute and endearingly eager to help you recover though so just let him dote on you, and it’ll all be over before you know it…

You’ll be the first to acknowledge that Shoyo’s efforts in nursing you back to health have been nice. It’s been days since you’ve fallen ill, and your boyfriend has been the very picture of devotion: he refills your water, fluffs your pillows, and stays by your side until you drift to sleep.

He’s so determined to help you feel better. It’s– admittedly– very cute.

Swoonworthy, even.

If only he weren’t being so fucking annoying about it.

While he’s been kind, he’s also been a bit of a drill sergeant. In trying to reach the summit of the Everest-like task that is achieving your swift recovery, he’s subjected you to extremities you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy. He forcefeeds you pickled plums, pours cough-syrup down your throat, and hasn’t let you check your phone once.

It’s torture. However, you’ve let all of it happen, convinced that he only wants the best for you.

But today is where you draw the line.

“You have to eat if you want to feel better!” He chides, his hand resting gently on the crook of your neck. His strength supports your weary body to prevent you from falling as he attempts to spoon-feed you your lunch.

“For the last time, I am not drinking bone broth,” you groan, jerking your head away for what feels like the billionth time. Your stomach starts to gurgle from the sight of the oily liquid sloshing about in the metal spoon.

Shoyo’s always been a bit of a health nut, but this is going too far. Did he truly expect you to eat the concoction he’s set before you?

You’re somewhat convinced that he’s actively trying to poison you.

“But it’s good for you.” He whines. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve heard that phrase uttered in the days you’ve been under his care.

You huff, crossing your arms in defiance. “I don’t care if it’s good for me. It’s disgusting,”

His lips press together at the sound of your reply. He tilts his head, and you can practically see how hard his gears turn for an idea on how to persuade you into letting him hand-feed you the symphony of blandness that is his bone broth recipe.

Then, his eyes light up.

Slowly, he pulls the utensil away from your face. You almost sigh in relief, until he brings the spoon to his lips and sips the broth.

You feel sick from the sight.

“See? It’s not that bad.” He smiles brightly after he’s finished. His hands make quick work of wiping the excess broth from his chin. “Plus, your body will thank you for taking good care of it.”

Once you’ve recovered from the shock of watching him drink the poison, your shoulders slump in defeat. You’ve always thought you were the most stubborn person you’d ever met until you met Shoyo. When he sets his mind to something, he always achieves it. It’s infuriating.

Rubbing your temples, you shake your head in exasperation.

“You’re not taking no for an answer, are you?”

A widespread grin overtakes his face as he dips the spoon in the bowl once more. Cheerily, his palm moves from your neck to your jaw, nudging it open to allow the liquid to enter your mouth.

“Say ah!”

❀ AKAASHI KEIJI !

The KING of the “I told you so club.” He’s also so fucking annoying whenever you’re sick, but he’s also incredibly tender it’s heartwarming. His taking care of you is non-negotiable, and he loves doing it.

Akaashi Keiji winning the boyfriend of the year award? Likely.

“I told you not to go outside without a jacket.” Keiji sighs, rubbing your back as you cough out whatever hell-spawned virus you’ve somehow managed to catch over the past days. His lithe fingers gently run their way through your hair, a stark contrast to his unamused tone. “You did this to yourself.”

The loud hacking causes your body to convulse, and you stare up at your boyfriend helplessly. Once the violent fit passes, a sheepish smile twitches at your lips.

“Can’t you be a little nicer to the love of your life? I’m dying over here.”

“No.” He deadpans, reaching over to the bathroom counter to grab your water. He presses the glass to your lips. “Drink.”

While gentle, your boyfriend’s always been rather blunt. Especially when it came to matters of health and safety. He was always right about these types of things, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to listen to him every single time.

You were paying the price for your ignorance now, though. You’ve been bedridden for days with a brutal cold, which means you’ve also subjected Keiji to taking care of you.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” you say, pushing the cup away once you’ve had your fill. “I feel guilty for burdening you.”

He chuckles fondly and presses a ginger kiss to your forehead. The chill of his touch against your warm face makes you shiver.

“Don’t feel bad. I love you– you can always rely on me.”

You feel grateful that you’re sick, otherwise, you’d have to explain the flush that possesses your cheeks from his kind words.

❀ MIYA OSAMU !

He cooks the besttt soup ever and is super attentive, but also slightly impatient. It’s hilarious tbh.

Osamu is the biggest baby alive when he’s sick, so when it’s your turn, you love to milk the experience!

“I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.”

“Huh?” Osamu exclaims, his voice rising in disbelief. From your comfortable position on the couch, you catch as his head sharply turns to shoot you an incredulous stare from across the kitchen.

You smile sheepishly. Sighing dramatically, you throw a hand over your forehead, “I’m just sooo sick. I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Bullshit.” He scoffs immediately, flinging a dishtowel over his broad shoulder. “I’ve been slavin’ over the stove makin’ you soup for the last hour. How’re ya not hungry anymore?”

He gapes at you. His expression is almost as loud as the bubbling of the pot in the background. The aroma of ginger and garlic wafts through the kitchen and tickles your nose enticingly, and you hold back a roar of laughter from escaping your throat.

Shrugging, you sprawl over the couch, tucking a pillow under your chin. “Dunno. But I could go for a back rub right now.”

“Yer impossible,” he mutters, shaking his head with dismay. “Do ya like torturin’ me?”

“A little.” You grin. His displeased face only makes you giggle. The sound of your laughter echoes from your mouth and masks the grumble of your stomach.

“What’s so funny?” He demands.

“I’m just fucking with you.” You admit, eyes twinkling from amusement, “The soup smells great. Serve me an extra big bowl when you’re done cooking, okay?”

“I hate ya.” He huffs, but he still turns his attention back to the stove.

“You know you love me."

❀ SAKUSA KIYOOMI !

Even though he loves you, Kiyoomi is still…Kiyoomi. He can’t risk catching whatever you have, but he’ll still fuel you up with a bunch of medicine and linger by the doorway to keep you company. He loves you, after all.

If you beg hard enough, though, maybe you’ll get lucky enough to get him to bend his rules a bit

“Omi~” You whimper from across the room, “Why won’t you just come here and kiss me?”

Kiyoomi’s figure lingers by the doorway, his handsome face veiled by a mask he’s insisted on wearing ever since you caught a cold. You watch as his face flickers in slight discomfort at the sound of your plea. A subtle paleness casts over his visible features.

“Please?” You insist in place of his silent disapproval. “Don’t you love me?”

He shakes his head in exasperation. “I think the cold medicine’s gone to your head. If I kiss you, I’ll get sick, and then no one will take care of you.”

You groan at how logical he’s being. He has a point, but can’t he recognize how desperate you are? Who cares if you’re contagious?

“But if you don’t kiss me, I’ll die from boyfriend withdrawals.” Squirming under the covers from impatience, your lips puff into a pout. “I’m not even that sick!”

“Boyfriend withdrawals aren’t real.”

“They are when you’re as in love as we are.” You argue.

He scoffs, but to your glee, he removes himself from the doorframe and walks into the room. Kneeling by the side of the bed, his hands move to softly stroke your cheek. You catch his gaze and lean into his featherlight touch.

Your heart bursts from the knowledge that you’re the only one he’d risk getting sick for.

The moment is over as quickly as it began when he withdraws his hand from you.

“You’re still warm.” He remarks. “I’ll wet the cloth again.” Rising from his position, he begins to exit the room, and you reach out to grasp his arm.

“Can’t you stay? I just want to be with you.”

You feel Kiyoomi tense under your grip, and he turns to face you. Sighing, he kneels once more, enveloping your hand in his. He gives it a tight squeeze.

“Fine. Just until you fall asleep.”

“Thank you.” You gleam. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

—a/n: this is dt @pomeloblush. feel better soon! :3

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kawamarii · 1 year ago

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names they call you in bed

˖ ࣪ ִֶָ nanami - toji - sukuna - choso - gojo - shoko (separate)

contents Ⳋ multi x f!reader, smut, petnames, spanking (toji), spitting (sukuna), praise (nanami, shoko, choso), degradation (sukuna), daddy kink (toji), size kink (nanami), oral (gojo, shoko), just straight nasttyyy

a/n :: this one’s been sitting in the drafts lol, i felt things writing this

<16 and ageless blogs dni

N. KENTO — SWEETHEART

nanami is always so sweet with you. when he comes home from work, all he wants is to lay down with you, relax, and bury his fat cock into you.

“ken—“ you cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as he kisses all over your face as he sinks his dick inch-by-inch into your sopping pussy.

“i knoww, sweetheart, i got you,” he cooes, his large palm caressing your cheek as he thumbs away the tears. “‘s too big, it won’t fit—!” you gasp, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “mm, it’ll fit, honey. it always does, hm? you always take me so well..” he whispers, his hot breath against the shell of your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

he leans up and looks down at where you two were almost fully connected, and he brings his thumb to your swollen pearl, rubbing circles on it to ease you. “there you go, sweetheart. you got it, hm? let me take care of you now.”

once he fully bottoms out, he gives you time to adjust before bucking into you at a slow pace, your gummy walls clamping down around his girth. nanami is such a gentle man when it comes to you.

Z. TOJI — MAMA

toji always fucks you like it’s the last time he ever will. he has your face buried into the pillows while his hips piston into you, pathetic mewls leaving your lips.

he stills, watching you fuck yourself on his cock as he lets out a guttural groan. “yeaah, back that ass up n’me mama, shiiit,”

he stares at the fat of your ass ripple with each bounce with half-lidded eyes, his jaw slack. “you like fuckin’ yerself on daddy’s cock, hm? pussy’s s’greedy,”

“daddy—“ you babble, your head craning to the best of its ability to look back at him, your nails digging into the soft sheets below you.

“hm? what’s it, mama?” he tilts his head cockily, his hands reaching down to grab your hips and continues to thrust into you. “ah— ‘m gonna cum, toj, please—“

he smiles down at you and nods. “yeah? gonna make a mess on this dick? cmon, do it,” he slaps your ass encouragingly, watching the red handprint form.

R. SUKUNA — SLUT

“you’re lucky i didn’t ravish you in front of all those fuckin’ servants,” he seethed, having you in a mating press as he slams his pelvis to yours in an incredible pace.

“ah! ah! kuna, ‘m sorry, please slow down—!” you cry, but to no avail. he grabs your face to look at his as he speaks. “no. you wanted to act like a slut? now you’re gonna be treated as a slut, so take this dick.”

you moan out, your legs propped up over his shoulders as he fisted the sheets below you. his lips were slightly parted as he watched your tears flow down your cheeks, a sadistic smile lacing his face.

“open your mouth,” he commands, and you dumbly nod, parting your lips. in a quick motion, he spits down on your tongue, and you blink quickly in response. “swallow it.”

you obey, swallowing it and then opening your mouth to show him. he pats your cheek condescendingly. “now you wanna listen? damn, you really are a slut.”

K. CHOSO — BABY

“f-fuck— baby, y’gotta loosen up, okay?” he hisses, his cock buried deep in your cunt as you pant. “promise ‘ll make you feel so good, but you gotta relax, can’t move,”

he knows your overwhelmed, he is too — but the way your clamping down on him makes him feel like he could cum on the spot.

he reassures you, his face next to yours as he sweet talks into your ear, and your tense muscles begin to relax a bit. “there you go, good girl,” he shushes.

“cho, please, need you to move,” you whimper, and he nods. “okay, baby, i hear you. gonna take care of you, okay?” he says, earning a quick nod from you in response that makes a soft smile curl up on his lips.

he begins to thrust into you, a moan leaving his lips. “fuck, you feel so good, you’re so good—“ his hands grip your hips, hard enough to leave marks. he can’t help but become pussy drunk, he’s addicted to you.

G. SATORU — PRINCESS

he’s manspread on the couch whilst your on your knees, his head thrown back as your lips wrap and suck on his cock.

you let out whimpers each time his tip prods at the back of your throat, tears welling up in your eyes as you try your best to take him as far as you can. he looks down at you, his eyes lidded as your struggle only turns him on even more.

“you’re fuckin’ dirty,” he lazily smiles, “you like this, huh? you like having your face stuffed with cock, princess?” he cooed, brushing the strands of hair that stuck to your sweaty skin out of your face. you hum in agreement, the vibration shooting up his spine with a groan.

“go on, then. make me cum with that pretty mouth of yours and i’ll reward you.”

I. SHOKO — PRETTY

she hums against your folds, your hand tangled in her brown strands as she presses a kiss to your pearl. “you taste so sweet,” she says half to herself, looking up at you. “you feelin’ good, pretty?” she cocks her head as she makes up for the momentary loss of her tongue with her fingers.

you nod quickly, too stimulated to form any coherent words. she chuckles, enamored with how adorable you were being. “i know you are, pretty girl, pussy’s so wet,”

you go to say something but she shushes you. “shhh, she’s talkin’ to me, pretty, listen to how fuckin’ loud she is,” she scissors her fingers in your cunt, earning a loud squelch. you flush, hiding your face.

“awh, don’t hide from me, pretty. gonna eat this cunt and i wanna see every reaction, okay?”

#smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #shoko ieri x reader #shoko smut #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut

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shooting-love-arrows · 2 years ago

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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎'𝐬! 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃

SYNOPSIS: It was a beginning of a new day for 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 and he'd make damn sure it was just as perfect as every other one. PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 x reader (gender not specified) tw. possessive/obessive behaviour, control problems, decieving, yandere tendencies. A/N: It is an Alternative Univerese and based on a scene from a TV series "Amazing Mrs Maisel"

masterlist

He had to be quick and sleek.

It was early in the morning, just some time before your alarm clock would ring. It was the sunrays that woke 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 up, bringing him back into the heaven on Earth he has come to know by your side. It’s a little trick he does the night before by leaving the curtains slightly open, since he couldn’t set an alarm clock himself.

You can’t know his little secret.

So with one look filled with tenderness and love thrown at you, under the cloak of the early hours and shielded by you sleeping like a rock, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 sneaked out of your warm, shared bed.

He shivered, feeling cold only wearing his nylon*, frilly nightwear. Goosebumps appeared on his skin which he currently had no time to take care of.

"The winter is coming alright." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 thought, noticing how the windows in their bedroom frosted. He made a mental note to turn on the central heating as soon as go downstairs. But that’s for later, for now he carefully maneuvered his way to the bathroom right by your bedroom.

The magic happened after he quietly closed the door, for now separating you from him. Left alone, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 began to make himself presentable for you.

Starting with a cap of strong mouthwash, he then moved on to brushing his teeth so that his breath won’t stink and his teeth will continue to be clean and white. Then, he deeply cleaned his face of any leftover night creams he applied shortly after you fell asleep the previous night and applied a finish lotion. A dash of makeup on his eyelids, cheeks and lips so it’ll look natural. Then he proceeded to free his hair of curlers and brush through them until they laid into a certain hairstyle he always wore. And lastly, a few pumps of the perfume you gave him for his birthday. (He simply adores your choice of scent and never fails to wear it with pride)

Before walking out, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 took a moment to take a look at himself one last time. Anyone would say that his reflection showed a perfect image of the househusband you could often see in the magazines. Yet, the only opinion that mattered to him was yours.

Everything he did – created and keeps creating – is for you. Only you. And he will gladly continue to do so for as long as you live.

With that, just like he left, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 re-entered your bedroom. Now after his morning routine, looking fresh and all pretty, his appearance was anything but a person who just woke up. He looked beautiful but at the same time, unreal. Unnaturally beautiful...

Swiftly, yet gracefully so that you wouldn't wake up before the alarm clock, he climbed back on your bed. Quickly, he adjusted the sheets around him, laid down on his side so that his back was turned towards you and took a deep breath, before finally closing his eyes.

Riiing! Riiing! Riiing!

The sound of your alarm clock rang precisely at 6:00 A.M. Blaring sound ripped away the peaceful silence and slowly aroused you from your deep sleep. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 had to refrain from smirking, as he felt the bed shift behind him. You were awake!

And that meant one thing…

Seconds later, just like everyday, he felt your lips plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. A soft smile appeared on his face instead and a soft plush appeared under the blush he had applied. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 ‘woke up’ to your kiss, fluttering his eyes open. Much to his heart's joy, his gaze connected with yours.

Your face was something he always wanted to wake up to. Your eyes were still sleepy, your face so lovely to look at and your hair all messy. In those mornings, you could just be you. His to admire, to touch, to experience.

His, his, his…

"Good morning, sweetheart." Your raspy voice broke him out of the daze he fell into. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 eyes burned with love for you, gazing up at you like you were the only person existing in this world. He lifted his perfectly manicured and soft hand, placing it on your cheek and rubbing it affectionately.

"Good morning, darling." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 sent you his signature million dollar worth smile.

"Is it me or are you getting even more devine day after day?"

Yes, it was the beginning of another perfect day.

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

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cloudcountry · 1 year ago

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you opened twst requests yaaay! may i request floyd and jamil with a sleepy s/o who likes using them as pillows? ty!

SUMMARY: floyd and jamil with a sleepy s/o!!

COMMENTS: i did!! thank you for requesting hehehe :3c <3

Floyd is normally very high energy, but when it comes to his more sour moods he’ll be more willing to just sit with you for longer periods of time. It cheers him up a little, knowing he can just sit with you, and you still trust him enough to fall asleep on him when he’s like this.

If he’s more high energy, he might wake you up depending on how heavy a sleeper you are. He’ll subconsciously poke and prod and squeeze at your flesh, giggling as he gazes at your sleeping face. He’s never looked more lovestruck.

You may think you look like a disaster when you wake up, but Floyd thinks you look so cute. Your hair sticks up in weird angles? Your arm went numb? Your eyes are bleary? Whatever the case, he’s right in front of your face, soaking in every detail.

Floyd doesn’t miss a single thing about the person he’s interested in. He’ll note your sleeping habits and whether you’re a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper, just so he can figure out where the best place for you to nap is.

If anyone needs you while you’re asleep, that suuuucks. Floyd isn’t letting you go anytime soon, no matter who is calling you or him. That’s their problem.

Jamil doesn’t have a lot of time to himself, so you’re limited in the amount of time you can nap on him. Unlike Floyd, who will ditch work to sit with you for hours, Jamil has maybe thirty minutes every day to spare for you pre-book four.

Even after book four, it’s still going to be rough getting him to spend more time with you, since he’s still recovering. But honestly, you sleep so well on him that those shorter naps are worth it.

Sometimes he studies when he has you resting on him, absentmindedly stroking your hair as he flips through a textbook. It’s silly, but having you there almost helps him focus better.

If you’re a heavy sleeper, he’ll gently lay you down on his bed and go fix you some food and drink when you wake up. It’ll always be some sort of tea and a light snack, and when you wake up he’ll serve it to you with a soft smile.

If you’re a light sleeper, when you wake up he’ll take you to the kitchen so you can still be with him, sleepy eyes and all. He whips up something quick for you, even if you tell him he doesn’t need to. It's a force of habit.

#auburn's fics <3 #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #floyd leech #jamil x reader #jamil viper #floyd x reader #floyd leech x reader #jamil viper x reader #floyd leech fluff #jamil viper fluff

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gloomwitchwrites · 7 months ago

Note

Feel free to ignore if this is too heavy but ive been feeling low and i wonder...

How would the 141 help their SO through a breakdown? Like hyperventilating and crying? How would they talk them down?

Again, if you dont want to write this i completely understand. Much love

It's not too heavy, and I know I'm fairly delayed on getting to this. I hope you're feeling better than when you sent this to my inbox. You're in my thoughts, anon. <3

written with gn!reader

Content & Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort

Out of all of them, Ghost is the most understanding, and the calmest in this situation. Maybe it’s because of his own trauma, or the fact that he’s struggled with own mental health, but there’s no judgment here. There is also no rush to try and tell you to “calm down.” Ghost might be a bit of a weirdo, but he knows how to read the room. He’s not going to immediately lovebomb you. What he will do, is give you space, to speak calmly to you, to be the anchor you need when you feel like you’re sinking.

While Soap is supportive, he’s the least likely of the bunch to get this right. Doesn’t mean he won’t try. The tears and anxiety aren’t going to scare him away, but it’ll create an internal panic inside him all on its own. That’s not your fault, he just doesn’t like to see you cry. He hates it when you’re hurting because Soap knows he’s not always going to be able to fix it. While he enjoys physical touch, he might be more hesitant in this situation to completely wrap you up in his arms until you’re calmer. One thing that you can completely rely on is that Soap is a yapper. He will try to talk you through it, even cracking jokes if it helps distract you.

It's Price that might sway either way. The breakdown could surprise him, throw him off a bit, but this man has quick recovery. He’s used to extremely stressful situations and making changes on the fly. Don’t expect him to be perfect though, or even promptly take the correct actions. If anything, he might freeze up if the breakdown is unexpected. He might stumble through getting to where he needs to be to support you. But he will do his best, making sure he’s by your side, trying to keep you calm and collected, to make sure you know how much he loves and cares for you.

A breakdown doesn’t last long with Kyle around. This man has it down to a science, especially if it has happened before. You know you can be completely vulnerable and open with him, that Kyle is comfortable seeing you at your worst and won’t judge you for it. There is nothing more comforting or calming than Kyle’s presence. This man is nothing but soothing words and gentle touches. He’ll let you press you face into his chest, snotty nose and all, and won’t bat an eye. He’ll hold you if that’s what you need or sit beside you if you require space. If you don’t want him to talk at all and just want him to listen, he’ll do that too.

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist

#task force 141 #simon ghost riley #john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #task force 141 x reader #ghost cod #soap cod #gaz cod #price cod #cod headcanons #call of duty headcanons #task force 141 headcanons #cod #cw: angst

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yeahspider · 7 months ago

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diet pepsi ❄️

Spider’s note - so yeah i’m drunk again sue me . i really need me a bang chan i fear . sparsely proofead (im sorry don’t kill me) but im committed to posting more this year . (my third post in a month i think everyone clap) but yeah this is nsfw for sure so mdni. n e ways enjoy as always and take care of yourselves my bees !! <3

“Baby cmon you have to get up.” said your boyfriend Chan.

“no im so sleepy lemme stay here”. You said from above him.

You two had just finished having sex. You know the routine that follows. And normally you're quick to follow it. But after this last round, all you want to do is fall asleep.

“you can sleep after we get you cleaned up.” attempting to slip his softening dick from inside you, hissing when you wouldn’t release him. Squeezing your arm in warning.

Aftercare is important. And you both know it. Chan has had a strict after-sex routine since you both started sleeping together.

water

toilet

shower

cuddling

in that order. But you were being stubborn today. And that was concerning him. Normally you willingly comply with his demands. He only wanted to best for you. Your health and happiness are his top priority always.

With a finger under your chin, you let him gently push your head back. Beckoning you to open up. Gratefully swallowing the water he poured down your throat. Quenching a thirst you didn’t know you had.

You felt him lift you both into a sitting position. Wrapping your legs around his bare waist to keep him as close as possible. You wanted to be inside his skin. He was always so warm and strong and steadfast. And with your head spinning all you wanted was for him to be your anchor.

Closing your eyes you started to dose off. Head in the crook of his neck. Inhaling in his intoxicating scent. He smelt like sex and you. Chan kisses your shoulder and stands the both of you up. Carrying you into the bathroom. Enjoying how he makes you feel like a feather around him.

Setting you in the sink. He grips your chin so you're looking straight at him.

Let’s brush those teeth yeah? open up .”

You do as you are told earning you a “good girl” and a smile from the man in front of you. You watch his face as he prepares your toothbrush for you. Allowing him to brush and manipulate you as he sees fit.

Chris liked to treat you like a doll sometimes. You didn’t mind that much. Especially at times like this when making decisions for yourself seemed hard . he watched as you spit in a cup and smiled when you showed him your pearly whites.

Watching his defined back as he walked to cut the shower on you couldn’t help but feel hot again. It’s like this man could do anything and it’ll get you started.

Like he could read your thoughts he turned around and shook his head. Sticking his pointer finger in the water to make sure it’s a suitable temperature for you both he helps you off the sink and and into the shower.

The second the warm water hits your back you let out a moan as your muscles relax. You could beat him and laugh distantly at your antics but all you could focus on was your body unwinding. Chan lathered your body with soap, massaging gently as he went. When you attempted to wash him back he shooed you. Always wanting to be the one taking care of someone. You’ve told him it’s okay to be taken care of but he’s stubborn . and you don’t feel like ruining the moment by reminding him so you let him get away with it. Willing to revisit that later.

Stepping out of the shower he dries you off with a towel. Gently pressing against your body to not irritate your skin. Throwing one of his shirts over your head for your comfort. As he turned to leave the bathroom you grabbed his hand to stop him. Gently tracing the words “thank you” across his back. Sometimes you had trouble expressing your feelings but Chan always understood. Squeezing your hand in a silent you’re welcome.

“C'mon, now we can sleep.” pulling you along with him. falling into a pile of limbs on the mattress.

#stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids headcanons #yeahspider #bang chan x you #bang chan drabbles #bang chan angst #bang chan imagines #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut

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tojikai · 2 years ago

Text

Sundered 8: BRAKES

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments

word count: 6.7k

But sometimes, the best isn’t what our heart wants; the perfect isn’t what our heart seeks.

“Did you find it?” Before Satoru could even answer, you came jogging in. Your gaze shifted between him and Toji, curious as you noticed the awkward silence that took over when you approached. Or…has it been there before you came? “What is it?” You asked, puzzled. Walking inside, your eyes met Satoru’s. He shook his head, giving a small smile before answering.

“Nothing. Toji was just saying that we should check Yui’s things to make sure we didn’t forget anything else.” You could see his Adam's apple bob up and down, eyes half blinking. “Well yeah, I did. Her extra shirt was still on the hanger. I ironed it earlier.” You walked past him, smiling at Toji before you jogged upstairs, making the two men relax.

“Y-yeah, of course. I could free my schedule, just tell me the details.” Satoru’s voice was much lower; quieter when he was sure that you were out of earshot. Toji nodded, blinking as he took a deep breath. “I’m glad you didn’t tell her.” Satoru doesn’t know why he hid it from you, but he felt like it would only worry you.

But could he really not tell you about it? He doesn’t want to lie to you.

“You know, it could only worry her; she probably doesn’t even trust us in the same room together.” He added as if sensing Satoru’s doubts. He’s got a point, but still, Satoru wants your relationship to be transparent. Yes, he still hasn’t told you about what happened with Naomi and his mother but that’s a different case.

“Just send me when and where.” Satoru took a deep breath, pulling out a calling card before quickly handing it to Toji as he kept an eye on the hallway to make sure you didn’t see any of it. “Though, she probably won’t be happy about not being informed of this-” Footsteps can be heard as you appear with the clothing item in your hand.

“Why didn’t you go to Yui? Let’s go.” You gave Toji a quick kiss and goodbye before walking out the door, looking back at him just to make sure that he was already after you. And he is, but not without glancing at Toji who only nodded at him. “I was waiting for you, I could see the car from there.” He explained, opening the car door for you.

“Yaaaay Mama! Dada!” The little girl put her hands up, opening and closing her chubby fingers, “Nummy!” She squealed louder as Satoru wiggled the pacifier in his hands, legs kicking as she desperately tried to grab it. “What’s my name?” He tried to keep the object away from her.

“Toru! Dada Toru!” She pushed on her chair, trying to move closer to her dad. Satoru laughed, letting her take the pacifier in her small hands. “Here’s your Nummy.” He cooed before putting on his seatbelt, ready to drive. You looked at him through the rearview mirror, meeting his gaze for a split second before you looked away.

“What is it?” He asked you, raising his brows as he drove. You shook your head, “Nothing, I was just…I was wondering if you and Toji get along well now.” You didn’t really want to ask this to Toji because he still gets grumpy at the mere mention of Satoru’s name in your conversations, which can’t be helped since they’re almost always about Yui.

“I think…” He let out a small laugh at the end of his short answer. For a second, he thought about telling you of his conversation with Toji but— ‘It could only worry her.’ His words reverberated in his head, making him bite his lip, waiting for your reaction. “Okay. It’ll get better, I guess.” You let out a large breath, lightly slapping your thighs with your hands.

“I’ll… I’m really trying to be less annoying to him. I know that it’s uncomfortable for the both of you.” He was trying to find the right words to assure you. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s threatening your new relationship. Your new happiness.

“And that he probably doesn’t even want you around me even for a minute and that’s why I was saying that we should lessen—” You turned to look at him, making him pause as he quickly glanced at you. He was worried that he may have said something wrong or hurtful to you. That’s the last thing he wants.

“Satoru.” You licked your lips, feeling bad that he was probably feeling the same way you did when he was still with Naomi. Probably much worse because he’s also regretting so many things at the same time. “We don’t have to do that. We do it for Yui, I could talk about it with Toji. I will.” You start to look back on how your ‘talks’ with him went.

But if it’s for Yui, you’re determined to make him understand and make all of this work.

“We can’t give Yui the family she deserves.” The words tasted bitter on your tongue as you leaned your elbow on the car window, massaging your temple. “But I don’t want her to feel that.” Thinking about the time scares you; how fast it goes, how quickly it changes. You fear that you’ll wake up one day and you won’t have answers to her questions.

“Hey…” You felt a hand on yours, noticing the car stop. You turned your head at Satoru, only noticing how blurry your vision has gotten. “You’re already doing so many things for her. She won’t feel that. That’s why I’m still here. You don’t have to shoulder this alone even if we’re not with each other.”

In Satoru’s head, he doesn’t like that you’re not with each other. But if that’s what heals you from everything he’s put you through, then so be it. But that doesn’t mean that he won’t be there for you; only heaven knows how much he wants to give you everything if only you allow it.

But he’s not that lucky anymore.

It took you a minute to snatch your hand away, probably just needing the warmth that it provided you in that vulnerable time, but you still did. “Sorry,” He murmured as you turned away, wiping under your eyes quickly. “Did you have breakfast? I’ll get us something.” He cleared his throat, thinking about how Toji probably cooked breakfast for you.

“I’ll just have coffee–“ You sat up straight, getting cut off by your baby as she struggled to get out of her seat. “Mama! Ma!” She whined, kicking her feet as she reached up to you and pointing outside. “Do you want something, Miss?” Turning her attention to Satoru. “She wants to go inside.” You spoke, removing your seatbelt.

“Alright, come on.” You stepped out of the car to get her, letting Satoru take her small bag. She squealed at the drawing of the cartoon on the wall, making you kiss her cheek. “That’s why she wanted to go inside.” Satoru laughed, letting you walk in first. Greeted by the employee as you scanned their menu, your daughter started pointing.

“Such a cute baby,” An old woman beside you said, “Looks very much like the Dad.” She laughed, making Satoru pat the little girl’s head, proud. “Thank you, Ma’am. She’s a mini of him.” You joked, allowing the old lady to play with your child as you conversed with the employee.

For some reason, the interaction made you feel warm. It’s been a while since you felt like this when going out with them. You used to avoid these situations with him due to how things were, but lately, your guard’s been down around him. Maybe it’s because you can see with your own eyes how much he changed.

If only he was like this before, would things have been better?

“How old is she?” The old woman’s voice sounded far, drowned by your thoughts. “She’s 2, ma’am.” You could feel Satoru’s hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your trance. Your eyes met his, overflowing with concern as he tried to keep a conversation with the woman until she left.

“You ok?” He spoke, adjusting Yui on the baby seat. “You zoned out earlier.” He made sure to pull the chair for you before going to his. Shaking your head, you gave a small smile, “It’s nothing, just trying to recall if I packed everything she needs.” It wasn’t convincing, but Satoru felt like he’d be meddling too much if he asked further.

Maybe he really should not add up to the things you’re worrying about.

———————————————————

“What is it about?” Satoru’s fingers tapped on his jeans, nervous as to what his baby mama's boyfriend was about to ask him. He was worried that it’d have something to do with the time he spent around you. Satoru isn’t sure if it’s possible to reduce that since you have a daughter.

“You know, to be honest, I just want to know how you see things.” Toji started, putting down his mug. “I know what happened between you and Y/N before I came along but I want to know what you were planning to do if I didn’t appear.” Satoru was confused as to why he was asking all of it but his brain started to think back to it, nonetheless.

At that time, he was thinking about marrying Naomi. He saw it as an assurance that he was doing so much better; convinced that she was truly the one for him. Spending a year with her, he was sure that she was the better person for him. What with his daughter calling her mom, he thought that maybe it could put an end to most of his problems with you.

Recalling all of this just made him realize how much worse things could’ve been.

Seeing the pain in your eyes the moment those hurtful words came out of his mouth set all of these plans on fire. You looked shattered; like the tiniest glimmer of hope in your eyes died along with your aching heart, hearing that the man you love regrets everything he had with you.

It almost felt like stepping so abruptly on the brakes that he hit his head from the impact. When you crumbled in front of him that day, you were bare to Satoru. All the feelings, all the pain that you held in your heart were presented before him.

Satoru remembered thinking about why you were like that with him, why you acted indifferent. 'She has always loved me this much. She was just hurt.' And it broke him too. A couple of days after that, he tried. He tried to tell himself that it was just the emotions, that it was just the guilt eating him up and that’s why he couldn’t see anything but you.

But he caught himself thinking about how he’d like to put you back together again piece by piece if he was given a chance.

He didn’t think too much of it; just a poor interpretation of his feelings towards your pain. He thought about his loving girlfriend, he reminded himself that there was someone who willingly put up with him when he was a mess. That’s how it always went. That’s how he pushed the thoughts of you away. With her, her words, her touch, her body.

But it’s never enough when he thinks about how you probably cry yourself to sleep at night, thinking about why you weren’t enough to get the same treatment that he was giving her. That’s when his plans started to falter; like a building threatening to crumble, dust began to shower down on them.

The day he went to your house, he found himself fixing his collar, and his hair, thinking about the words to say to you. And if you’re not there, he thought of ways to get to you. But there Toji stood. With a smug look on his face and marks all over his neck that scream “I just fucked the girl you dreamt about last night.”

That day he wanted to ask him directly what the fuck he think he’s doing, but that wouldn’t seem right, knowing that Satoru’s nothing but a baby daddy to you. That day was a deja vu. All the events that happened between the two of you are being shown to him, and it seems like he’s feeling the pain threefold.

After that, Satoru tried. He tried to tell himself that he just got upset because of how disrespectful Toji was acting. He just couldn’t stand that he acted as if he owned everything in that place, even flexing the hickeys you gave him the other night.

He thought that was the worst he could see that day but for some reason, seeing you in that shirt with marks on your collarbones triggered something in him. A question he didn’t see coming popped up in his brain and along with it was the guilt that he felt for his girlfriend:

Am I too late?

The next thing he knew he was getting up and getting ready for when you pick Yui up from his place. He caught himself pulling at his clothes and pushing his hair back as he waited for you to open your door; like a teenage boy waiting for his crush. He denied himself that he wanted to look good; to look better for you.

Until it all sank in; until he couldn’t handle it any longer. Each time he sees you with Toji, doing things that you should be doing with him, he gets pushed a bit more. He was already getting pulled back towards you again even before he came along but now that he’s beside you, it felt like Satoru’s spiraling back to you at the speed of light.

Then, that night happened. When all the bands that he used to stop himself snapped.

“I would appreciate it if we could be honest with each other. This could greatly affect the decisions I’m about to make.” Toji’s serious voice interrupted Satoru’s memories. He blinked, clearing his vision of him. He stared at the cup with a grim expression, which made Satoru realize the weight of the conversation.

This is not just a conversation, Satoru thought, licking his lips before speaking again.

“I’d…Back then, I was denying what I wanted. I…I was trying to get her back. Not just to make up for all that I said and done.” He rubbed his palms on his pants, seeing Toji lean back on his office chair. “I had a girlfriend, then. Naomi. I didn’t really want to admit to myself that my heart wants to get back with Y/N when I’m with someone so good to me.” He shook his head.

Satoru’s disappointment and anger about what happened between him and Naomi felt like a ton on his chest. She was a good woman to him and it’s true, but thinking about how everything aged; he can’t even bear the thought of her and his memories with her. It’s just sad that it had to end that way.

He can’t help but to blame himself for the actions that she took. He could’ve written a better ending for them.

Satoru heard Toji sigh as he straightened his legs under his table, crossing his arms as he nodded for Satoru to continue. “Then, you appeared. And I don’t know. I don’t even know how it happened but everything that I was feeling about her was rushing into me faster than it used to and maybe…” Satoru panted, shrugging as he gestured with his hands.

He couldn’t believe that he was really talking about this to his baby momma's boyfriend. “It just got me desperate. I told myself I was too slow and I lost my chance and I really did but…” He looked at Toji, wanting to convey his sincerity. “I just want her to be happy. I feel like all I did was ruin things for her. I don’t want to ruin what she has with you.”

It was a tough thing to say for Satoru. The words felt like shards of glass in his heart. It’s not what he wants but if it’s what he must do then he’ll do it. Toji’s silence got him wondering if he was pissed or relieved that Satoru was aware that he was not getting you back as long as he was there. But in Toji’s mind, that’s not the case.

“So you’re saying that you wanted to get her back even before she got with me?” He blinked slowly, trying to comprehend Satoru’s words. “I thought you only started to want her back because you don’t want to see her with someone else.” He didn’t bother filtering the words. He can’t think of a better way to put this.

“It’s always her. Even if I end up with someone else, I need her to know that I had always wanted it to be her.”

Toji didn’t think that Satoru would be this transparent to him about his feelings towards you. There was an eerie look in his eyes as he stared at the open window, a defeated look plastered on his face.

“If I didn’t enter the story, would you still be doing all of this for her now?” Satoru’s eyes were back at him, nodding as he sat straight. “Yes. It would probably take longer than it did but I’m sure that I was bound to fall back into her at some point.” Toji’s brows furrowed, trying to think of what the situation would be like if it were like that.

“Weren’t you planning to marry Naomi?” Satoru chuckled bitterly, considering it another poor and rash decision that he made. “I was. Before I fought with Y/N.” Before he found that small light of hope in your eyes. Before he realized that not all of it was lost.

Toji laughed, rubbing his face with his palm as everything that had been going on sank in. He’s talking with his girlfriend’s ex. And he’s telling him all of this. Like it’s the most natural thing to do. He sighed, swallowing as he bit his lip, feeling himself getting agitated by the second.

“I know I said I’d appreciate honesty, but I didn’t think you’d actually say all that to my face.” He chuckled bitterly, recalling every sentiment he just said about you. “I’m her boyfriend. Her new man.” His chest heaved, blinking to allow himself to calm down. He’s the one who asked for this to happen, so why’s he the one getting pissed now?

“What do you want me to say?” Satoru’s voice was calm, looking away from Toji’s piercing glare. “You should’ve just told me to fuck off and stay away, though the latter one’s not possible because Y/N and I have a child.” Satoru sat up straight, as if getting ready to be kicked out. Toji’s jaw tightened visibly at the words.

Not because they’re insulting but because they’re right.

That’s what he wanted to do. He thought that if he couldn’t get you away from Satoru then maybe Satoru could just stay away from you. But obviously, it isn’t just some responsibility for him. Satoru isn’t the type of guy to just send money for his child. He’s not the type of guy to be just happy that his child knows he exists somewhere.

He wants to be present; to be there for Yui and watch her grow. He wants to be with her but of course, your circumstances wouldn’t allow that. Maybe this isn’t as easy as Toji thought it’d be and that’s what makes him mad.

“Toji, I know we’re not on the best of terms with each other, but what are you trying to get with this?” Toji didn’t like how he asked it. It made him sound like a villain and that’s the last thing he wants.

Is he getting so desperate that he allows himself to seem like one? “I agreed to this without knowing what you’re planning to do, I’m just here to be honest to you. Really.” Satoru wanted to ease the tension between the two of them for your sake.

He knows that you’re still very uncomfortable with the two of them being around each other and that you’re also thinking about how to make it better. He thought that this “conversation” would help.

“Do you really love her? Or did you just learn to love her for your child?” Toji gave his all to sound composed, scratching the edges of his thumb with his index finger. “I don’t remember telling myself that I have to love her. I just know that I love her.” Toji could hear his teeth grind against one another; his frustration starting to surface.

“Look, if you want to hear from me that I am not trying to take Y/N away from you then, I’ll just say that.” Toji remained silent, forgetting what this meeting is supposed to be and how it’s supposed to go. He’s bothered by this ever since he fought with you, but he cannot let that cloud his mind of what he would deem to be right.

And obviously, that’s not what’s happening right now.

“But you can’t tell me not to love her when even I myself can’t control that.” You weren’t lying when you said that this man changed a lot. It felt like this is the most mature Toji’s ever heard him talk.

“To feel that is one thing but to act upon it is another and I don’t plan on doing that.” Satoru wondered if you’ve been arguing about this with him, probably why he’s like this. He remembered your problem with him constantly mentioning his wife in whatever you do but after that, you never really told him anything about it anymore.

He didn’t try to pry even when it felt like your mind was always somewhere else because he didn't want to seem like he’s taking advantage of the situation.

“Well, it’s good that I don’t have to remind you.” Toji murmured, tilting his head as he furrowed his brows. Looking away, he pulled at his collar with his finger. The man in front of him looks nothing like a threat. Yet, he can’t find it in him to let it go.

Probably because deep down, he knows that this is not a one sided problem.

“I won’t ask you to stay away from Yui. I’m a father too. I just needed to hear this all from you, Satoru.” He opened a drawer, taking out a packet of cigarettes before putting one between his lips. The fire from the lighter lit up a portion of his face, inhaling only to let out smoke from one side of his mouth. “Why?” Satoru asked, leaning back.

“I don’t know. So, I could do better I guess?” Toji chuckled, making the other man’s brow bump with each other; not with anger but with an irritating confusion.Just as he was about to ask, Toji answered his question. “We didn’t fight. There’s just nothing left to do about it. Guess we gotta put extra effort.”

With that he stood up, signaling that he’s already over this conversation. And Satoru sat there, still in the dark with his intention. Does he have some kind of mic here that recorded what he just said? Satoru doesn’t care.

What he said was the truth, and it would be too funny to suspect Toji of some kind of evil plan when he’s literally the one who got heated up.

“I hope to work with you better, Satoru. After all, we love the same woman.” With that, he walked to the door to leave but not before Satoru could say a word. “Just take care of her for me. I’m sure she wants it from you.” It came out softer than he intended to. He looked down at his hands as they played with one another; defeated.

He didn’t hear a sigh from Toji. The sound of the door closing was the only signal that he already left. Clicking his tongue, Satoru stood up before running his fingers through his hair. He wonders if it’d be right to ask you about your situation with Toji. He wonders if you also want him to adjust.

He wonders if he’s just a nuisance in your life right now. Like how he made you feel before.

————————————————

“She should start when she’s like four. Or five.” Toji put Yui’s bag down on the couch as they ran around him. The kids were still not tired enough to calm down after a whole day of swimming. Their cheeks are all red from the sun and you mentally noted to put aloe gel on her face before bed.

“Megumi will start next year?” You asked him, hearing a hum as his gaze followed the two kids who ran to your daughter’s room. “‘Gumi we’ll be going in a few, don’t fall asleep!” Toji called to the little boy who only stared at him from a distance before turning away. You felt a pair of hands pull you as Toji sat you on his lap.

“Did you have your own fun too?” He teased, squeezing your thigh as he kissed your cheek. Your mind went back to the other day. It has been a while since the two of you did it due to busy schedules. You admit that you felt like you and Toji are still being extra careful with a few topics but this past few days was a breather.

“Mhm, definitely did.” You whispered to his lips, feeling his teeth bite your bottom one as he kissed you. You don’t know when it started but things started to feel a bit different between you and Toji and you don’t know if it’s because he’s starting to drop his worries for you and Satoru or if it’s because he’s just tired of thinking about it.

You were gonna talk to him regarding that but this weekend kind of assured you that it’s all going fine. As for you, you’re trying your best to adjust. You told yourself a thousand times that you had to think about Toji too and not just yourself but for some reason, you still find yourself questioning how you should do some things.

That’s not a good sign but you thought that maybe you could just take one step at a time. Toji’s making adjustments for you and you can’t just let him do all that work. The only thing you’re fearing is if it’s gonna burn out the two of you sooner or later.

It’s not that your relationship with him is not sturdy, but it’s still young. There are still so many things that the two of you might go through. You’re afraid that all of these are just taking a toll on both of you and one blow from a different direction might just take you down immediately if it ever lands.

Toji stayed for about half an hour before calling Megumi who definitely fell asleep on Yui’s bed. Meanwhile, your little girl was sitting beside her big bear, whining about the burns on her face, begging you to call her Dada.

“We’ll just put medicine on it, okay?” She stomped her little legs, pulling at your shirt to pick her up. “It’s because you won’t let me put sunscreen on your face properly earlier.” You clicked your tongue, letting her sob on your shoulder. “Dada…” She wiggled in your arms, a small hand holding her cheek.

“Just give Satoru a call. Or get him to come over. She probably misses him.” Toji picked his son up. The latter option shocked you a bit because you didn’t expect him to actually suggest the man he’s so uncomfortable with to come over and be around you. Even if it’s not for you, you still didn’t see it coming out of his mouth, especially after all the fights you had.

“They’ll meet in a day, anyway so it’s—” You started but he cut you off by talking to Yui. “Dada will come over, it’s okay. Stop crying.” The toddler’s cries softened to sniffles as she looked up at him. His hand patted her head, before turning to you to give you a kiss on the forehead. “She needs him right now. You know how kids are.”

The gesture made you feel a bit sad. You’re aware that this is not about the two of you but still, you know how he is when it comes to Satoru being with you. “You shouldn’t hold back if that’s what Yui needs.” You shouldn’t hold back if that’s what you need. He wanted to tell you that as well.

He remembered asking you casually about how you were with Satoru. Of course, you found it weird and got worried. You kept saying things to comfort him to which he quickly reassured you that it wasn’t like that.

“Of course, I did.” You told him, swirling the liquid inside the sippy cup. You wouldn’t look up at him the whole time. You placed it beside the other cup before moving to sit beside him. “We had a rough time, but it wasn’t always like that.” There was a hint of nostalgia in your voice; a mix of melancholia and fondness for the lost time.

“Why did it become like that?” He leaned on his elbow, fixing the ornaments in front of him. “Because of the rush, I guess. Bad timing.” You shrugged, drumming your fingers on the marble counter. “We just became parents. We didn’t have time to become lovers.” You chuckled half-heartedly.

“But I know I did.” So, Satoru wasn’t lying when he said you were in love. “Have you ever wondered if… if it’s just because of the responsibility that you share?” He prodded further, feeling like he was having the watered-down version of the conversation that he had with Satoru. Something he apologized to him for 2 weeks later.

“Probably at first. All of it is just for Yui. But at some point, I just found myself looking forward to days with him.” You sighed, staring blankly as you probably tried to recall more memories. You quickly looked at Toji, realizing the words that came out of your mouth. It’s not supposed to be like that. You’re not supposed to speak like that.

“Did you ever—” He began but you’re quick to cut him off, getting more and more worried about his behavior. You’ve been having open talks with each other, deciding that it might help with the crack in your relationship with him but this still makes you feel anxious. Because what if you hurt him again? What if something you say makes it worse?

“Are you alright? You keep asking unusual things.” You jokingly put your hand on his forehead, making him grab your wrist as he pulled you to him. “Hey, I was just curious. I want to do better.” He kissed the back of your neck. It’s true that he wants to do better for you. Hell, he wants to be the best for you.

But sometimes, the best isn’t what our heart wants; the perfect isn’t what our heart seeks.

“Alright, I’ll try to contact him. I doubt he’d be here, though. It’s a work day, I don’t really want to bother him.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly before walking with him to the door. Megumi’s small arms were wrapped around his neck as he bid you goodbye for the day.

You wanted to ask him if it’s really okay with him but you reminded yourself that if it’s for Yui, it doesn’t matter if it’s not okay with anyone. “Text me when you get home.” You told him after he put Megumi in his seat. “Yeah, love you.” He kissed your lips once more before getting in his car and driving away.

You watched his car disappear, rubbing your baby’s back as she started to whine again. “Alright, we’ll call him.” You walked back inside, spotting your phone on the coffee table. You kissed Yui’s cheek as you dialed Satoru’s number. It rang twice before you heard his voice from the other line.

“Hey, everything okay?” You ignored the way your heart swelled at how alert he was to your calls. You figured that he’s probably working, "Dada!" Yui called to him, kicking her little feet and making you grab them. You put the phone on speaker "What's wrong, love?" Satoru's voice was full of worry because of how his daughter cried.

"She got sunburnt. She was swimming with Megumi earlier and now it's starting to sting." You pushed her hair back as she tried to take the phone from you. "Are you busy? She keeps asking for you. I didn't want to bother you but—" Without letting you finish your sentence, you could hear the chair scrape the floor. "Don't think like that. I'm never too busy for Yui."

"Would it be… Is it ok if I come over? I'll get ointment on the way." You could already hear the car keys and you pictured him walking out of his door and to his car. "Yeah, it's fine. Toji actually suggested that because Yui won't stop crying. Thank you." A small silence can be heard from the other end.

"I'll be there in a few, text me if you need anything else." After that, he lets you hang up the phone, waiting patiently for you say something. "Dada will be there. Stop crying now, you weren't crying earlier." You checked her face, feeling bad that she has to pay for having fun. But you think the blush that it left on her cheeks are cute.

After a little while, a knock on the door pulled you away from your phone. Even though, you already know that it's Satoru, you still peeped through the hole just to make sure. The night his mom stormed in your house and threatened fo take your child away was still vivid. You don't want Yui to see something like that again.

"Da!" She immediately cried when she saw him, reaching for her father to take her. "Hey, why? Where's your ouchie?" You saw a couple of bags in his hand as he took the crying child. "I brought you guys something, I thought you might not have had your dinner yet." He sounded shy, taking the smallest bag.

“Oh, thank you. You should eat with us, sorry for calling so abruptly. She’s being fussy.” You smiled at him, not missing the fond sigh that escaped his lips. “It’s nothing, it’s a win-win situation.” He jokes, tickling the little girl’s belly which caused her to erupt into laughter.

“Let’s put this cream on your face so it doesn’t hurt, alright?” You watched the two of them sit on your couch and all of a sudden, it became the highlight of your day. How he removed his shoes when she asked him to lay down, how he listens to her almost incomprehensible rants, how he gently applied the ointment on her cheeks, producing the most beautiful giggles.

It almost felt like a normal family, resting after a long day of staying out. With her favorite show playing, you watched her look up at her father just to make sure he’s watching the same thing. And he’d go and nod, talking to her like it’s the most serious thing in the world.

“You should eat with us.” You found yourself saying as you wiped your hand. You reminded yourself to text your boyfriend as you turned away, feeling wrong for how you feel but how can you not feel that way when the scene you used to dream of just came alive in front of you?

Maybe you’re just tired. Maybe you just wanted the comfort of your bed. Maybe you just want to not think about it, maybe it’s better to ignore these feelings because there are other things you should be feeling right now. Like wanting to see Toji and be with him. You shook your head, setting up Yui’s table.

And there he comes, with your daughter in his arms, wearing one of the house slippers you left under the couch. “Can I borrow these?” He chuckled and you could feel the stretch on your cheeks from how small they look on him and suddenly, it’s just the three of you again. Eating under the warm kitchen light, talking about your daughter.

Like how you always wanted it to be.

——————————————————

“Just take care of her for me. I’m sure she wants it from you.”

Toji pursed his lips as Satoru's words reverberated in his head. He knows nothing, he thought, glancing at you from the mirror. You were busy checking Yui's bag, completely unaware of the thoughts of the man in front of you. Toji has been selfish before. But his head was clear enough to finally judge things with deep consideration to the external factors.

Any man or woman wants nothing but to work things out for their family. But sometimes it just gets too much for them. But for some, they just need time. And he doesn't know how to feel when he thinks about how you and Satoru probably just needed time to fix yourselves as individuals for the relationship to work.

Even though Megumi already understands that his mom will never be home. There are still instances where he would ask Toji about her and by that, he could tell that his son's wishing for her. Whenever you'd do something for him, he would say "Like mom?" and he don't want you to know that not even the smile on your face could ease the searing ache in his chest.

“What do you think about getting back together with Satoru?” The question already escaped his lips before he could even think. Your eyes snapped at Toji, looking at him like he just said the most obnoxious thing. You walked to him, stopping his hands to do his tie yourself.

“Why are you suddenly asking about that now?” You counted back to the first time he was talking about you and Satoru.“Nothing. I mean, he mentioned that his mother’s never around him anymore. Isn’t she like the bane of your relationship with Satoru?” He peered down at you, curious as to how you’d react.

Toji didn’t mean to ask it so abruptly, but he knows that he has to talk about it sooner or later. He knows that the both of you are trying and your relationship shouldn’t be this hard if only adjusting comes so naturally.

He knows that you put in a lot of effort just so he wouldn’t feel insecure and overthink. He also knows that sometimes it just shows, you’re probably just denying that to yourself. He’s also too aware of how the both of you would tread carefully around the topic of his wife.

“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t miss her or talk about the things she does.” You told him that once but still, Toji can’t help but feel bad when those days come and he knows that he’s not giving his full attention and mind to you.

“I’m literally in a relationship with you, stop asking if I—” You tried to chuckled it off, brushing the palm of your hands on his chest to straighten the fabric but Toji caught them. “What if this isn’t working?” He sighed, squeezing your hand as if it will lessen the weight of his words.

You don’t know if you’re hurt that he probably wants to end it or if you’re hurt that there’s a hint of truth behind his words. “What are you saying?” As if suddenly coming back down to reality, Toji shook his head and pulled you close. “I think I woke up too early, come here. Sorry about that.” He kissed your forehead but that didn’t take away your worried face.

“Toji you can’t just say that and expect me not to overthink.” You don’t know if you’ve prepared yourself enough for this possibility. It would hurt you if you’ll lose such a good man in your life. “I’m…I don’t know if I still feel comfortable, or if I’m just getting used to it Y/N. I know you try, you do it so well, baby but,” He took a deep breath, pausing.

“I don’t think I can continue like this. I don’t think we should continue like this.”

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carbon-dating-everything · 6 days ago

Note

Listen hear me out

Eddie and Volt (kinda established relationship?) with a fem!reader who went to medschool during her first few years of moving into the house. And now with a medical degree and while she's still trying to find a job in the medical field she spends her knowledge on educating the dateables and treating any injuries they may have (pretend for a second that's how it works). One main victim of this is Eddie because of his maintenance work. Hands always bruised and rough so reader often comes to treat it despite his protests. And ofc whenever Volt has accidents and injures himself she's right on the case.

(Farya def loves her)

hey!!!! love this request - was wondering when i’d get an eddie and volt one!! they’re two of the most popular characters in this game for sure (and i can def see why ;))

supplying aid to the power supply

pairing: eddie and volt x female reader (referred to with she/her, no physical features described)

content warnings: injuries (description of bruises and cuts; fic is set after the injuries happen)

word count: 1.4 k

‘She’s going to fuss over you, you know.’

Eddie groans and turns to face Volt. ‘She’s not going to be worried about shit unless you tell her. I’m fine. My hand’s already healing.’ Grunting, he raises his very much not healed right hand with difficulty, a large red bruise staining the skin near the wrist.

He manages to grab his glass on the third try and, ungracefully, downs it in one gulp. ‘See?’

At this, Volt arches an eyebrow. ‘Very convincing, Eddie. Should I go tell her that you’re feeling peachy, or do you want to let her see for herself?’

Right on cue, you duck into the Breaker Box, wearing your fantastic red shirt and your Dateviators perched on your nose. ‘Hey, guys - how’s it going?’

Volt waves at you. Eddie waves and winces.

You stop in your tracks and your eyes narrow, spotting Eddie’s hand immediately. ‘Explain.’

Eddie sighs. ‘It’s really no big deal this time, live wire. I fell off the ladder repairing a cable.’

‘One of the rungs hit his hand. I believe it requires attention,’ Volt sings out.

Eddie glares at him, and the white-haired man smirks.

You frown. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier? I’m going to the fridge to get some ice from Freddy, I’ll be right back.’

And with that, you do an about-face and vanish back out of the electrical cupboard, just as quick as you came. Eddie sighs in frustration, placing his head in his good hand.

Volt hums. ‘Didn’t I tell you that would happen?’

‘Shut up.’

With a clatter, the cupboard door flies open again, and before either of them can register it you’re swooping towards Eddie with the first aid kit and a bag of ice in your hands.

Eddie blinks. ‘That took shockingly little time.’

‘I’ve been fixing up objects all day with Farya,’ you reply, sitting down next to him and setting the first aid kit on the counter. ‘I figured getting help from a literal med kit couldn’t hurt.’

You turn, and business-like, begin inspecting Eddie’s hand. ‘So. What happened?’

‘Well, like I said, I was trying to fix one of the cables and solder it back together, when I fell and caught my hand in one of the ladder rungs-‘

‘And after that, Eddie couldn’t complete any of the other repairs,’ Volt interrupts him. ‘He wasn’t able to move his hand.’

‘Mm, makes sense. When you hit something that badly, you’re not able to move it for a while - it’s surprising that you’re able to at all right now. Sort of like when the power fizzles in the Breaker Box and everything stops working for a while - the power supply is gone.’ You begin gently prodding the bruise, feeling for a reaction. ‘Anywhere you’re most hurt?’

One spot in particular makes Eddie suck in the air between his teeth in a sharp hiss, and you wince sympathetically, ‘Ooh, yeah, that’s closer to the bone, which is why it also has more obvious swelling. You’ll definitely be feeling that one for longer, and it’ll fade slower, too - probably going to get stiff for a few days.’

‘Great,’ Eddie deadpans, and leans back as far as he’s able in the bar seat, tangling his good hand in his hair. ‘How long until I can get things going again?’

You take one of the clean dish rags from behind the bar and wrap the ice in it, pressing it to Eddie’s bruise. When you’re done applying it, you stand back. ‘Well, you don’t need any serious medical treatment - all you need is some ice packs here and there for the first day or two, and then keep it elevated and close to heat so that the blood circulates better. You should be able to get back to work soon if you follow those instructions. Got that?’

Eddie mock salutes with his good hand. ‘Aye-aye, captain.’ He points to the other things you’ve set out on the bar - bandages, antiseptic, and. cotton swabs. ‘What’re those for?’

You stare at him incredulously, gesturing to what he might deem as no big deal, but what you estimate are a dozen other little cuts and scrapes littering his forearms, some healed and some raw. ‘Eddie. You can’t be serious.’

Volt chuckles. ‘Our Eddie is certainly bad at taking care of himself, isn’t he, live wire?’

You round on him, poking a finger at his chest. ’Don’t laugh at him when you’re no better. When was the last time you actually closed the Breaker Box’s performance section for a day?’

He stares, taken aback. ‘Er-‘

‘Right. You don’t know because you don’t, Volt,’ you scold. ‘I swear, getting sick’ll be the death of you both. If you can even die.’

‘Honestly, it’s fine,’ Eddie deadpans.

And maybe it’s because you’ve tired yourself from helping people all day, but something in you seems to have had enough.

‘No! No, it’s not fine!’

The sudden volume in your words stuns you all into silence, and both the dateables’ eyes go wide, staring at you. You flush, coughing lightly before continuing in a normal tone of voice.

‘Injuries are no small thing. You might take them lightly now, but what happens if they pile up? What if you have another incident where the power blows? Don’t you remember how close you guys came before?

‘And one day…’ Something in your face falls, and you look a million miles away, as if you’re contemplating an impossible reality for them. ‘One day you might get hurt, really hurt, and I might not be around to fix you anymore.’

They look at each other, having an invisible conversation, and Volt reaches out to you apologetically.

‘Live wire-‘

As soon as he says that, it’s as if a mask slips back on and you suddenly seem to loom over them - a towering figure crackling with electricity of your own. ‘What you need - what you both need - is rest. And whether you choose to take rest or let it take you by force is up to you. Make sense?’

They nod slowly in unison, and you lean back, satisfied, turning back to the bar to clean Eddie’s scrapes. ‘Good.’

There’s a few moments where no one says anything, listening to the gentle sounds of you patting cotton on Eddie’s arms.

It’s Volt who finally breaks the silence, peering closer at what you’re doing. ‘How do you know all this, anyway?’

You hum. ‘Well, this is basic knowledge in med school, and I’ve had to deal with plenty more tough patients than you. I wanted to work for Valdivian’s Health Division when I got out, but got stuck in customer service instead. At least I’m putting it to use again.’

‘Sounds tough,’ Eddie says as you press another cotton pad soaked in antiseptic into his arm, trying to pretend like it doesn’t affect him. ‘Taking care of so many people, and doing even more of it here.’

‘It really was. And is.’ Even still, a small smile appears on your face. ‘But maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to get back into it one day.’

With that, you give one generous dab to the bruise, and sit back. ‘These should heal soon enough, I think. Although you need to let that hand heal before you even think about picking up a screwdriver again.’

‘Thank you so much for curing him, darling,’ Volt says, adding teasingly, ‘Shouldn’t you kiss it to make it feel better?’

You roll your eyes, but relent, pressing a quick kiss to the bruise. ‘How’s that, Eddie - does it soothe?’

‘It sure does.’ Eddie gives you a grateful smile - one you know is not won easily. ‘Thanks.’

‘Excellent!’ You hop off the bar seat, grabbing your kit. ‘I’d better go - the Hanks have their wing suits on today and it never hurts to be on standby just in case. I’ll see you tonight for the live show.’

‘And we can’t wait for you to come back,’ Volt replies, giving you a kiss of his own to the back of your hand. ‘See you tonight.’

As you exit, he turns to Eddie, looking at the latter’s hand. Perhaps it’s a trick of the light, but already it looks as if it’s faded from an angry red to a sullen purple, softening with your touch.

‘The live wire certainly cares a lot for everyone, doesn’t she?’

‘Yeah. She’s a keeper.’

a/n: apologies as i’m on mobile so this may not have formatted super well - will fix when i can! also this means they get double the tags whee

#date everything #date everything x reader #eddie and volt x reader #eddie and volt date everything x reader #eddie x reader #volt x reader #eddie date everything x reader #volt date everything x reader #x reader

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