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livingdeadgirlflorette · 9 months ago

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ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ₊˚✩⊹ carl grimes x fem!reader

summary : After what happened a few weeks ago, seeing Carl made you anxious. Just looking at him made you ponder what was the thing you had with him. But one visit to a friend of his may just be enough to be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

word count : 4.7k

tags / rundown : average teen angst, fluff, more-than-friends-less-than-lovers trope, glenn and maggie are your substitute parents here, carl has an emotional capacity of a teaspoon, reader and carl are so oblivious oh my word, slight jealous!carl, kissing, sitting on carl's lap, brief mention of teen pregnancy

a / n : hi guys! this is a part 2 for "late night kisses", but it could be read as a stand-alone as well ! i just finished this like 2 hours ago and proofread it, i'm pretty satisfied with how this came out. i really wanted to show how angsty teenager's could be for such trivial things, and i think i showed it pretty well here >_< enjoy reading !

dividers by @cafekitsune 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

PART 1: LATE NIGHT KISSES ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

With Rick interrupting your whole secret rendezvous with Carl in his bedroom, and practically telling you he knows about you guys— you wonder how bad it really would be if they did find out about you and Carl.

But there was one question that gets under your skin more than anything. It makes you think if anything between the two of you was more than just what you guys were doing. What were you and Carl?

All this time it has been just Y/N and Carl, inseparable, attached to the hip best friends. Just. Friends. That's an interesting way to state the relationship between the two of you, if just friends sneak around and makeout in their bedroom, and If just friends hold eachother at night, looking into each other's eyes lovingly, never wanting it to end.

It makes you concerned also, what did Carl think about the two of you? You don't what to acknowledge it, but it makes you stomach churn thinking that Carl would think you guys were nothing more than friends that kiss one another every once in a while. Thinking about it just puts a crestfallen, depressed look on your face.

"What's got you down in the dumps for?" A voice snaps you out of your mind question of is-Carl-a-friend-or-something-more crisis, remembering where you are. You're at your dining room table, eating breakfast with Glenn and Maggie. Ever since their group came, you became close with them, subconsciously (whether you wanted to or not) growing a familial bond with them.

They told you multiple times that you were welcome to come and go— so whenever you feel like it, you come to them when you have a problem, or you just don't want to interact with other teenagers in Alexandria. They get too posh-sounding when they talk about trivial things for your liking.

"Oh its uh— y'know it's just nothing." You dismiss the brunette woman's question. Since you and Carl didn't want anybody to know about the two of you, you decided to keep it a secret. And it would be a shame for the both of you if all of that came crashing down just 'cause Maggie had asked why you looked so sad.

"Well nothing doesn't make you of all people look so depressed. Why don't you go to your little boyfriend? He always puts a smile on that face." Glenn suggests, using a teasing sound for the question. You know he's just trying to make you feel better, but the mention of Carl just makes you even more down trodden. But you quickly realize what Glenn titles him as.

With an seemingly unstoppable flush blooming on your face, you quickly try to defend yourself, trying to save face.

"He's not my boyfriend, nor am I his girlfriend. We're nothing really, just friends." You argue. Saying that makes your heart break a little, even if you don't want it to. You play with the food on your plate, seeming uninterested. You just want to curl up into a ball and let time pause for a minute. Everything is just too much right now.

"He may not be your boyfriend per se, but he sure does act like one." Glenn counters, smiling knowingly. Despite every molecule and fiber of your being wanting to defend yourself, he was right. Carl did tend to have tendencies towards you that were too close for comfort on being the role of a lover.

If you ever mentioned a food you'd been missing, or an item so specific that you'd been missing in general, he'd get it for you and act all nonchalant and dismissive when you'd ask how the hell did he get it from (but he'd never tell you how he had almost got surrounded by a herd of walkers trying to get it for you). He would put his hand, hovering ever so slightly on your back when going through a crowded group or when he's behind you.

"We're uhm— I dunno. We're something." You say, moving food around your plate, showing signs of boredom, but no amount of uninterest in your body language could mask the sad look on your face. As much as your answer was adding nothing to the conversation, what you said was sincere. What really were you two? Friends don't sneak into the other's room at night, friends don't straddle each other, and friends definitely don't lock lips with each other. It stumped you, if you were going to be honest.

"Well figure that something out with the boy, okay? It's disheartening watching the two of you walk around like sad little puppies all the time." Glenn finalizes, he finishes his plate of food and walks over to the sink. Unknowingly to him, what he had said made you perplexed. Carl was also blue? As much as it made you feel empathetic for him, it made you wonder why he was also feeling like he had his heart punched out of his chest. You thought what you were feeling was just you, but with him also feeling upset over it, it kind of made you guilty 'cause it felt good knowing that what you were feeling was mutual.

"I actually have an idea, but it's not one of my most proudest. . ." You barely let out, feeling all shy now that you realize you're gonna say it out loud. Glenn was washing his dish, but he turned his head to the side to share a look of curiousity with his wife. They both looked back at you, silently tell you to go on.

"I'm gonna talk to Mikey. He seems to know Carl well enough, and I think maybe he could help me." Without skipping a beat, Maggie had paused the spoon with food that was about to go into her mouth and Glenn paused his movements before they continued doing their actions.

You know it was a silly conclusion, but with all the mood swings you were getting from avoiding Carl, desperate times call for desperate measures. You figured you had no choice anymore, and this was the only thing you thought of. Ever since Carl and his group had been recruited by Aaron, Mikey and the other teens seemed to have grown close with him, and you concluded that maybe he'd know if Carl was acting strange and if he had maybe, possibly told him about you.

But before that ridiculous thought, you pondered if maybe Enid could help you with this debacle, but you know she wouldn't be all that comfortable sharing feelings like that, and she wasn't a person that you could talk to about it. You also knew she'd thank you for saving her from that talk about how Carl made you feel all mushy inside.

Is it a stupid and dumb idea? yes— but as you said yourself, desperate times call for desperate measures. The married couple share a uncertain look with each other, but decide silently they wouldn't press too hard about it.

"And uh, how do you think Carl would feel about that? Y'know, going behind his back and all that?" Maggie suggests, finally finishing her last spoonful before standing up to go to where Glenn is at the sink.

You also thought that while thinking of a solution, but you figured that it would be better off if Carl didn't know. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

"I . . . I uh– actually don't plan on telling him about it, I don't think he needs to know." You're not really sure if does, also it would be a hell of a lot embarrassing knowing Carl knows that you asked one of his friends about what he thought of you.

"Well, if you're gonna do that just make sure you make it right, okay? He seems like he wouldn't be too grumpy about that, but maybe a little." Maggie tries assuring you, standing up and brushing you hair in passing.

What she says gives you a little assurance, but it doesn't outweigh the fact that you're about to lie to Carl; not by saying something but the opposite actually. Lying by omission had never felt so burdening.

"I'll try." You finish you last spoon and head to the sink. Glenn and Maggie seemed to be readying to go outside. Maybe they were going on a walk together? You're not sure.

"Good. Also don't forget to dry that plate okay? You're thinking too much. From what i've read, it's bad for pretty girls." Glenn tries to joke with you, but it doesn't really work. You thank him for that, despite all the teenage angst you're going through, he still wants to put a smile on your face. It makes you heart feel a little lighter.

"I got it, now go away. Let me wallow in my self pity while I wash the dishes." You joke back with them, both parties laughing a little. Even if you're still feeling bad, all that pep talk with them gave you a feeling of determination. You had to get to the bottom of this before it all came crashing down before you.

You look back at the couple, seeing them walk out the door hand in hand with one another, having such a caring gaze for each other. Observing them made you question you and Carl. Did you want that with him? And if you did, did he also feel the same?

Walking to Mikey's house was an interesting experience, to say the least. With a mantra of affirmations in your mind that spans to saying "everything is gonna be okay" , "don't panic, it's not a big deal" and rubbing your hands up and down your arms a dozen times you're sure you could start a fire by doing it, you finally reach Mikey's house.

It helps you realize you don't even have a plan on what to say. Really, what were you gonna say? 'Hey Mikey, I just wanted to know if Carl said anything about me? Not to dump anything on you but i've been sneaking into his room and making out with him these past few months and his father caught us 2 weeks ago and now im panicking.'?

You rethink your choices, starting to backtrack your decision. But sometimes you just have to calm down— grin and bear it for the sake of needing to get to the bottom of this, before you spiral into a fit of hysteria and isolation.

Your knocks on the door are firm but hesitant, and not long after you see your friend's familliar face. Mikey seemed surprised, and you understood why. You guys were never really that close with one another, with you choosing to hang out with Enid (cause she seemed to understand you too) and him hanging out with Carl and the other boys in the walls. It's justified that he'd be looking like a deer in headlights at the sight of you at their front door.

"Oh, you're the last person I expected to see here. Not in a bad way though, heh. Hey Y/N, you need anything?" Even with the shocked feeling he has, he seems to recover it quickly, putting on a more welcoming, friendly expression.

"Yeah actually, uh— can I come in? I need to talk to you about someone, privately." Your voice comes out meek, frazzled because you haven't really thought out how this conversation would go.

"Uh yeah sure! Come in, come in. I'll uh- I'll ask my father if he's fine with it though, he's just out back and I think he'd be fine with having you over. While i'm talking to him, make yourself at home, okay?" Mikey scrambles to get his words out, it's obvious he feels awkward. But it doesn't stop him from trying to just make it seem like two friends (that's pushing it, better word for you and him would be acquaintances) hanging out. You thank him silently for that, trying to make it seem less awkward than it actually is.

With him going out the back door, you're left to your own devices in his living room. You look around, and there doesn't seem to be anything that interesting. It just looks like any other upper-class house you'd see in Alexandria.

You try to make yourself feel home, sitting down on the couch. Moving from multiple positions on the comfortable cushions, you give up and just fiddle with your fingers. For what feels like an eternity, in his living room, Mikey and his father come in and his father greets you in passing before settling in a chair in the kitchen, busy doing something you can't really see. But before you can really think about it, Mikey comes in and sits next to you.

"I have a glimmer of an idea on why you're here, but I won't say anything unless you want me to." Mikey leans back, getting comfortable. You're confused. How would he of all people know what you were gonna tell him about? It made you feel like you should bite the bullet and ask.

"No it's okay, I wanna know." You urge him. If he did know about who you were gonna talk about, how obvious were the two of you?

"I'm guessing it's because of a certain long haired boy? Just a guess though." His words seem to say he's just guessing, but his tone says otherwise. He sounded teasingly, like he knew something you didn't.

"Shit, was it that obvious? It's just— okay let me think about it, I'm just confused. He seems like he cares about me, but he never really wanted to talk about us. Like what we were. We're something, well we were." That's all you could say before your mind went blank. Thinking about all this is making you go stupid at this point.

"Well since you both seem and look like trainwrecks, i'll talk for you." Mikey knew what you needed right now, and that was for someone to tell you just straight up what was happening.

"You and Carl aren't just friends, okay? You and him may think that, but friends don't act like that with each other and act like it's nothing." Your friend's word seem to reach to you, telling you what needed to be done.

"We're friends, right? You and me? We don't do that. That's different. You and him have something different than friends. It's more than that, Y/N. And if you can't get that through your thick head, i'm not sure how you'll end up." Mikey finishes. He thinks his words got to you, and it did. You feel grateful, really. Despite it being blunt and straightforward, you got the message he was trying to send. You know what you have to do now.

"Wow, that's— huh. Thanks for that, Mikey. It means a lot, even if you unintentionally did refer to me as a numbskull." The joke you let out lightens the mood, putting a mood on both of your expressions. You realize you're lucky to have a friend like Mikey, he's not afraid to tell you straight up when you need something said.

"So since that's out of the way, wanna play videogames? I got something you might like." Mikey suggests. Even if you weren't that close to him, he still wanted to be civil with you. Given his inquiry, you didn't think it would hurt to play videogames with him, even if it was just for an hour or two.

You follow him up the stairs, but before you could make it up halfway with him, a firm knock at the door stops the both of your movements. You look at eachother, obviously curious.

"Stay here. It's probably just my father's friend or something asking about him."

He jogs down the steps, hesitant to open it but when he does, his shoulders drop in relief.

"Oh Carl, what are you doing here? You need something?" Mikey asks. With the stairs directly in front of the door, you tilt your head to the side, to see the long-haired brunet you'd been avoiding all this time.

"I was looking for Y/N actually, have you seen her?" Carl was asking. He seemed urgent, with a frantic aura to him, but his face was controlled. Before Mikey could answer Carl had finally found you, catching your gaze. You were on the stairs, looking like a deer in headlights. How did he know you were here? But weird enough, why does he look so rushed?

Carl seemed as confused as you. Why were you with Mikey? Why were you guys alone together? And why does it look like you were just going down from his room? Too many questions and no answers was gonna send Carl into a downward spiral. All these thoughts and no conclusion. He'll have to ask you later, 'cause he's going to die surely if it eats away at him from the fact that he'll keep thinking about it. It makes him feel such an unfamilliar feeling that he hasn't felt in a while; like venom coursing in his veins and his blood piping hot, he knew it in himself that he was jealous.

"Oh she's right here actually," Mikey turns so his body's facing you slightly. "You need her right now?" Mikey's question is starting to sound a lot more like earlier, with and underlying tease and knowing look.

Carl seems to pause at the question. Mikey's simple question feels like a more complicated one to him. To explain how much he needs her, he'd have to dive into an ocean's worth deep of words he's been meaning to say. But he'd rather open that can of feelings another time, preferrably with Y/N. Right now, all he wants to do is to speak with her.

"Yea can I actually talk to her? It's important." No matter what Mikey says, either way he'll get Y/N out of that house. It's killing him inside, he doesn't know why you've been so distant lately. The variable of your presence becoming absent in his routine for the past few weeks has left him dumbfounded. He needed to know what was wrong— or else it'll destroy him.

Before Mikey could even utter a proper response, Carl pushes past him and grabs your arm firmly, but gentle enough that he doesn't hurt you. His action befuddles you. First; he looks like a headless chicken trying to find you, and second; he's dragging you out of Mikey's house hurriedly. What could be so urgent that he needed to up and pull you out?

Your heart was in your mouth, unable to say anything. What would you say even? Carl was pulling you out of Mikey's house, and to the direction of his, were you supposed to ask why? You were frazzled, but all you could think about was how careful he was holding you hand. By the time he dragged you out of the house, his hand intertwined with yours, be it a habit or reassurance to him. That simple action made your heart leap out of you chest.

With the brisk pace he was walking with, you made it to his porch in record time. To add more flush to your cheeks, you see his father, Rick at the porch steps— looking at you both knowingly. It seems like he could tell you were tongue tied, and chose not to say anything else to save you the embarrassment (he'd do it later instead).

Walking quick to his room, he pulls you in and locks the door. He turns to you, standing face to face. You want to say something, so badly. But knowing if you would, you'd open up a pandora's box worth of words you'd been meaning to say. So you start slow.

"I wanna start off with i'm sorry, okay? Listen, it's just i'm really worried about us," Carl softens his gaze and walks closer to you. "—and I don't even know what we are anymore."

He grabs your hand and aligns it with his. "What are we, Carl?" As you ask, you watch him. It's cute, watching him observe your hand difference. It's as if he's trying to stall what storm is about to come. He then close his hand, intertwining it between the gaps of yours.

"We're friends, right?" He assures, he looks so pitiful, eyes pleading with you not to let this dam of unspoken words open into a whirlwind of emotions he desperately wanted not to let out.

"Are we really?" You barely say above a whisper. Are you really just friends? With all that happened with you and him, you guys are just platonic? It makes your heart shatter thinking that.

"Carl what you do— what we do isn't just friends. I'm sorry but I can't deal with it if it's just being friends with you." Your face falters, showing a more betrayed expression.

Carl thinks he's pathetic. He swore to himself that he'd never let anyone or anything make you upset, but he never thought he would be the cause of it. It makes his eyes teary, but he'd rather get eaten alive by walkers than show you how much he's been holding in.

"I. . ." Carl hesitates. ". . . I don't want to be just friends with you." Him confessing that makes you doe-eyed, what did he mean by that?

"It's just— everyone I love always leaves." Before he can even register it, his hot tears spill out of his eyes. He's embarrassed, and looks down to hide it.

"I can't lose anybody else." Despite him looking down and his voice low, it's enough for you to hear. You felt stupid now. All this time he was trying to protect you. He felt as if he was magnet of death and chose to love and cherish you from a distance instead, no matter how much it makes his heart feel unsatisfied.

"I— I can't anymore." Carl barely says between his cries. Carl felt silly. Here he was, crying in front of the person he wanted and needed so badly just because he couldn't possibly have her. If he had to choose one word to name his state right now, it would be desperate.

But what you do next is something he never expected you would do. You use your free hand to lift his chin up and wipe away at his tears, still looking at his teary-eyed gaze. Your other hand that was holding his closes, finally reciprocating the action. And what you say next sends his heart going a hundred miles per minute.

"I'm not leaving anytime soon, okay? I care about you too much to do that."

Carl felt special. The one and only person he genuinely wants to be with feels the same, the feeling was mutual. All of it makes his heart feel like it's gonna jump out of his throat. With hesitant movement, you chastely kiss the stains that had been left from his sobbing. Everything Carl was feeling right now made him so overjoyed, it made him lethargic.

With a hesitant hand, he returns the action by caressing the side of your face, looking into your gaze before nervously asking her what he's been meaning to say all this time.

"I love you, okay? I wanna be—" He sighs before he could finish, and shuts his eyes in focus before opening them to look at you once again. He's hesitant, would him saying this ruin everything? You look to him curiously. What now?

"I wanna be your boyfriend." He concludes. All of a sudden you feel your body feel so much lighter. Him stating that made you feel so happy, wanting to jump for joy 'cause everything was going right.

Carl looked nervous, like he would break any second. It was adorable, really. Normally you would be the one doe-eyed and shy from your interactions, but now the roles reversed. You figured it wouldn't be so bad, him looking like that, eyes glassy and pitiful. You couldn't deny how even in his state, he looks so cute.

". . .Okay." You finally say as you smile. The moment you say that, it's like a switch flips with him. He still looked teary-eyed, but he looks ten times more happy. He holds you face in his free hand and asks the other question he's been dying to ask.

"That's— that's great! I- uhm, can I kiss you?" Nervous and skittish, he manages to let out a jumble of words. Even so, you vehemently nod at him.

Carl goes in slowly, trying to gauge your reaction, eyes going to your lips then to you, before he goes in completely to close the space. It feels like heaven, his lips on yours. Just like clockwork, his hands hesitate on your waist. It makes you relax, knowing no matter how many times you kiss, he'll always end up bashful. It makes you smile into the kiss.

Feeling bold, you gently push him back on the edge of his bed, making him sit while you hover on him to keep you as close to him as you need to. He looks so perfect; him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking up at you, pleading eyes begging for you to come back into his space.

With languid, calculated movements, you place yourself on one of his thighs and go back in to capture his lips with yours again. He blushes at this; with the extended amount of time you'd been apart from one another, he's gonna have to get used to you all over again and your touch.

But just like last time you saw each other, you get interrupted. You both hear a loud, firm knock, before an unnecessary amount of wriggling of the door.

You practically jump off one another, before you both come up to the door, with you slightly behind Carl.

The door unlocks and you expect to see Rick, but unexpectedly, you're met with Michonne at the entrance.

"You kids good in there? You seemed pretty silent." Michonne asks. She seemed to know what was going on, but proceeded to ask anyway.

"Yeah– uh-huh, I was just talking to her uh– Y/N." Carl quickly says. But his defense seems to make it a whole lot worse.

"Oh you're talking. All right, i'll stop buggin' ya. Enjoy your talk." Michonne looks at you, letting your already flushed face get even warmer from the implications she was trying to tell you, and then to Carl, who was trying to regulate his breathing, all while Michonne was growing a smirk on her face. She proceeds to close the door, leaving you and him to bask in the shy atmosphere that had been created.

". . .So you wanna make out some more?" You ask. You know you should be shy about it, but there's no use beating around the bush, especially when you want him to touch you so badly all over again.

"Hell yeah." Carl says before grabbing you by the waist and kissing your lips once again. Kissing you with your hands on his shoulders and his hands rubbing circles on your waist, he knows one thing for sure.

He'll never get tired of this.

BONUS ೀ⋆⑅˚

"Oh they're smooching it on alright." Michonne reports to Rick, seemingly teasing the teen pair that wasn't there to defend themselves.

He had asked her if she could go up and see what they were doing, not that he didn't trust his son and his friend or whatever she was to him, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to make a precaution. They didn't want another baby Judith situation after all.

"Ah. . . good, thanks." Rick looks back at Michonne then to the neighbourhood. He has an unreadable expression on his face. Michonne takes note of this, though.

"Trust me, with how shy Y/N is and how emotionally constipated your son is, you won't have to worry about another baby Jude in a good long while." She pats his back, reassuring him.

He silently thanks her, trying to believe what she's saying. But with how loose discipline is with the state of the world, He doesn't know how much that statement holds up when none of them know what they're like behind closed doors.

You'll never know until you find out.

oh wow, this one was a long fic, huh? I hope the wait was worth it guys, I really liked how this turned out ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و also the end bonus was just a silly little thing, i'm not sure if I would want to expand on it, it was just a throwaway line that sounded ominous and i'm a sucker for that :3 anyways ty for all of the support you've been giving me, I can't believe it honestly— I just want to thank all of you lovelies ! stay tuned and tell me if you want to be tagged next time I post !

what did you think ? don't be a silent reader and let me know ! °ʚ(´꒳`)ɞ°

tags : @carlslvr

#carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead x reader #𓂃🖊 — florette's fics

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illubean · 1 year ago

Note

Could I get headcanons for Feitan, Illumi, Leorio, and Chrollo falling for gn!reader who by all means seems like a strong, nuturing, emotionally stable individual but every once in awhile casually says or does smthin that makes people go "Oh you're a little fuckin nuts, actually"

(e.x.: Most of their D.I.Y. furniture is made of different kinds of bone, morbidly interested in the more gorey parts of their jobs, probably works in a field that allows them to be around the dead often like a taxidermist or a mortitian, highkey just unabashashedly a morbid little freak™️ whenever it comes up naturally in conversation but otherwise comes across as just an attentive lil guy you could bring home the average parents would love.)

HXH Men with a Morbid!S/o

Characters: Leorio Paladaknight, Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader

this is so me

Warnings: dead things and body parts and stuff

Leorio Paladaknight

being an aspiring doctor, Leorio thought that your knowledge on both human and animal anatomy was pretty useful

at first he didn't think much about your job and just assumed you were some type of doctor or biologist or something

he often asks you questions as he studies and you're a pretty good tutor

the first time Leorio realized you were kinda weird is when one day you were walking down the street and saw some roadkill

and you were like "aww too bad, the skin and bones are too damaged to harvest"

and you kept walking like it was normal while he was like ?!!??!?

or you guys were having a normal conversation and you say something like

"if you died i'd taxidermy you and re-articulate your skeleton so you'd be with me forever <3"

1 taxidermizing humans is illegal and 2 WHAT

he is cold sweating wtf did he get himself into

when he comes to your house for the first time and sees a bunch of bones, animal skins and wet specimens he damn near passes the fuck out

how do you just casually have dead things and remains around your house!?

AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU MADE YOUR COFFEE TABLE OUT OF CAMEL BONES?

he is freaking the fuck out and you're just like "dw everything is ethically sourced :D"

yeah he thinks you're a freak and he is too fearful to break up with you ever (not like he was planning to anyways)

Illumi Zoldyck

whatever drew Illumi to you had to have been some type of power

aside from that power, to Illumi you were relatively normal and had a good grip on your emotions which made you a perfect candidate

that being said he could care less what your job was, you'd just end up working for or with him eventually

when he started bringing you around the estate, you often sought out their guard dog Mike and Illumi couldn't think of why

that is until you came back one day with a human femur and bright smile on your face

"... where did you even get that?" "From one of Mike's victims. If I collect enough I could make a whole set of bar stools!"

he blinked at you and chose to ignore your statement

i mean, to each their own am i right?

so you have ah hobby, big deal

Illumi just thinks you're pretty normal personality wise until you randomly but casually drop information about what you do in your free time or have in your home

so now whenever he has a job Illumi calls you in for cleanup

you get to do.... whatever it is you do and there's no evidence of a dead body left behind, it's a win win

Chrollo Lucilfer

he couldn't care less what your job is because it's probably not worse than his 😭

he didn't really notice anything "morbid" about you until he asked about your jewlery

you wore things like resin caster bug pendants or bird skull earrings and stuff

he just assumed they were fake and you bought them because they looked badass

but then you told him you make it all YOURSELF

he is intrigued

he doesn't really question you past that because you were probably buying the bones and stuff somewhere (spoiler alert you're not)

what really caused him to think was when you casually just picked up a dead rat off the floor in some abandoned building you were exploring and suck it in your pocket

bro was so confused

"What do you need that for?" "To make a new necklace :3"

yeah now he knows that your odd taste in jewelry goes deeper than just that

he won't judge you though, if anything you're a better person than he is considering you don't kill things yourself

he is literally a murderer and a thief and has committed like 3467633788 crimes so he couldn't judge even if he wanted to

so now when he sees dead animals and what not he bags them up and brings them to you

he likes to sit in on your cleaning and making process

you seem like a perfectly normal and sweet person to everyone else but Chrollo knows about your freaky little hobby and it just makes him like you even more

Feitan Portor

I feel like for you and Feitan to even be acquainted you have to be part of the troupe

whatever you do outside of it is your business

buttttttt since you are his s/o and Feitan is probably homeless he crashes wherever you are

thus him finding out about your hobby and other job

out of everyone on this list he is the most interested

he too is a morbid little freak

he goes with you to find things and will help you with the cleaning/taxidermy or whatever process if you let him

what he doesn't understand though is why you don't just kill the things you want instead of hunting for already dead things

sometimes he will go catch like a squirrel or something and bring it back to you like a cat and tell you he found it like that

Fei baby. No the fuck you didn't

after doing what you're doing for so long you can tell what caused an animal to die but you wouldn't tell him that

he's just so cute and wants to be supportive of your hobby <3

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butchvampireheimerdinger · 6 months ago

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The Great War

A/N: So this was made in response to a request but it ended up blossoming into a full 2K word fic adjacent and I had to split it into two posts! Anyways, if you enjoy sexy and occasionally soft Sevika, dramatic arguments that result in comfort, and mob-wife vibes… enjoy!

Warnings: Not smut but mentions of sex and both characters are D O W N B A D.. A lot of cussing and mentions of violence.

Pairing: Butch!Sevika X Femme!Reader who is super outgoing and forward

🂱 So the two of you’ve met briefly around town, kinda running in the same circles. You notice her right away but you don’t actually talk until she shows up at work — The Last Drop.

🂱 You’re a server and your charisma, magnetism, and punchy/blunt sort of energy makes you well suited to hospitality. You’re the bubbly outgoing type of waitress who gets their table laughing and in a good spirits with ur contagious good vibes.

🂱 You beat the other waitress to claim Sevika’s table, and it’s on.

🂱 She would get a kick out of it — your shamelessness. She really likes the forward thing, timidity makes her roll her eyes. Life’s too short for playing hard to get! Plus, she’s an adult. And a literal revolutionary who quite literally does not have the time for all that.

🂱 Before you learn each others names you endearingly and lightheartedly call her “butchy,” or something like that. She calls you sweetheart.

🂱 You’d pour her beers on the house. You’d lean over the bar counter on ur elbows, making sure ur titties look good and perky. And if it was just the two of you, she would not hide her ogling.

🂱 It’d be a bit of a game to you two. Making the other person crack, being the first to back down/get all blushy. You’d be all flirty-flirty over the bar counter, she’d pull you into her lap during her card game. It’s like how straight guys play gay chicken. Except ur actually gay so it would just be chicken.

🂱 And she’s smoking indoors, as per us. You ask if you can have a hit. She shotguns it into ur mouth and you blow it upward, once again drawing attention to your décolletage, to the girls hehe

🂱 Eventually she just asks you straight up if you wanna spend the night. Maybe you take her up on it, maybe you don’t. Either way, she’s not the fuckboy (fuckbutch?) hit it n quit it type. She’s an adult woman with emotional intelligence and communication skills goddammit and she’s gonna ask you to dinner.

🂱 Takes u to the fanciest place in the undercity, orders everything on the menu trying to flex her wallet and impress u. Whether or not u ask for it she gets you one of those weird rich people desserts where they make part of the preparation an “experience.” like they pour hot liquid over a hollow chocolate shell and it cracks open and reveals a little cake inside. Or something involving a blowtorch.

🂱 Anyways this whole time ur just rubbing ur lil high heeled foot up her pant leg under the table and twirling ur hair, touching her arm, etc. Naughty girl — she mock-scolds you telepathically with a dommy little eyebrow raise thing.

“Here? Now? I pull out all the stops to give you a magical evening and you already wanna leave and bang it out. That’s real classy, sweetheart.”

🂱 You’re both rather bold and upfront, obviously. Strong personalities, fire sign energy — which means you butt heads often. Your relationship is super intense and fiery so every day is like a soap opera, or like The Real Mob Wives of Staten Island in levels of drama.

“Why the hell didn’t you come home last night? And why did i have to find out from Vivi that she saw you cracking skulls in a fishing boat by the pier?”

“Babygirl I told you I was taking care of business. Sweetheart, uprisings don’t happen overnight, it’s all about biding time and strategically applying political pressure in Topside-”

“Jesus, Mary, and the goddamn camels you and your strategic goddamn pressure. I’ll tell you I’ve fucking had it with you and your fucking pressure. You wanna make me look like an idiot? When me and my girlfriends are sitting drinking mimosas for brunch at Jarrod's and they ask me ‘Y/N where’s that woman of yours?’ And i have to look them in the eyes and say “Clint Eastwood was unable to join us as she had a prior engagement strategically applying pressure. To the back of enforcers’ skulls. With a fucking baseball bat. Like a common thug. Mind you, I’m a classy lady all by my lonesome on a Sunday fucking morning-"

“Classy lady I’ll fucking say. You’d think I plan on growing old with Mrs. Fucking Vanderbilt, the way you want to buy ten thousand pairs of red high heels-“

“Omg babe you wanna grow old with me?”

“-that all look exactly the fucking same, by the way. ‘Burnt orange’ and ‘vermillion’ and ‘chartreuse’ or whatever the fuck — You know it’s just fucking red.

“Chartreuse is green, since you wanna be a smartass,”

“Don’t gaslight me, woman. Where do you even plan on wearing those? We live in an oversized sewer pipe. Not the magical land of Oz. I told you who i was when you met me. I told you this is what I do. And you better get used to it if you wanna keep charging my card at every boutique within a ten mile radius,”

“Or what? Gonna give me the spiel again, talk me to death about the uprising and the political elites and the our time is imminent, y/n. Gonna threaten me like you do your little fishing buddies? Gonna apply me some strategic fucking pressure?”

“That’s enough.” Sevika hissed, scary calm. She kicks the pantry door shut and whips around, pointing at you with her cigarette. “I’ve had enough of this shit. You’re done, Missy.”

“Beg pardon? I’ll decide when I’m done, thank you very much. You’ve got some nerve telling me when to speak when I can’t even reach you half the time. I had to track down your little boss the other day — brought him a lovely casserole — and ask if he could pass on a message for me! ‘Excuse me Mr. Scaryman Eye of Zaun, sir, could you possibly ask Zorro if she might head home as soon as she’s done busting kneecaps? And to arrive in a clean shirt, as my parents are in town and they prefer to greet their daughter-in-law when she’s not covered in someone’s intravenous blood. Thank you kindly.’”

“You showed up at work? Wait- you talked to Silco? Babe I told you to stay the fuck away from there!”

“Please. He may be the kingpin of the city or whatever, but I make a gorgeous quiche. Trust me, babe. Once he tastes my cooking, I am henceforth immune to whatever machiavellian basement torture chamber you brutes probably use as your break room.”

🂱 Sorry guys, got a little carried away there. Point is, one minute you’re screaming at each other and dramatically slamming doors and throwing shit, the next you’re fucking on the kitchen floor like the world’s about to end. You guys basically co-authored the book on how to be an absolute nightmare of an upstairs neighbor. The entire building feels the floor shaking and no one knows if the screaming is just you guys having a little too much fun for 2pm on a Tuesday, or if they’re gonna see this on the news tomorrow.

🂱 Kidding! At the end of the day, trust and loyalty are the foundations of your relationship. You love each other wildly, deeply, and passionately.

🂱 Sevika has a strict no going to bed angry policy. If you’d gotten into it that evening you might give her the cold shoulder, curl up facing away from her in the quiet moments before bed. She’s reading by the lantern on the bedside table — an upcycled barstool the two of you stole from your old job at The Last Drop one evening when you were in a particularly silly mood.

🂱 She catches your gaze a couple times as you stare over your shoulder to see if she’s paying attention to you, and then you immediately turn and go back to ignoring her. She takes off her reading glasses, tosses her book onto the bed, and rolls over to you, wrapping her arm around you from the back.

“Hey baby?” She kisses your shoulder and the back of your head since you still won’t look at her, and she continues. “Love of my life? Light of my world? Keeper of my soul and partner in crime through the sea of trials we call the fucked-up game of life?” You turn slightly to give her a glaring side eye.

“…What do you want.”

“Still mad at me, babygirl?”

“Not at all. Why on earth would I be mad?”

“I’m sorryyy,” she draws it out, cooing at you all soft and sing-songy. If the ne’erdowells who often got their asses handed to them by her and her little team could see this Sevika, they’d think they lost their mind. Hell, if any punk on the street could see this Sevika they’d think they lost their mind. It made your knees weak the way she undid herself and softened for you. For only you. You fought the smile forming and she continued murmuring against your skin.

“It’s all this bullshit at work Silco’s got me taking care of. I’m neglecting my little lady, I’m stretched so thin. It’s too much…”

“Too much…?” You echo. “Talk to me, love. Silco’s not letting you catch a breather?”

She grunts in affirmation against your shoulder: “Mm-hrmm”

“Does my baby have the whooole wide world on her poor, tired, buff, strong, sexy shoulders-EEK!” She gleefully flips you over to face her, making you cackle. You’ve been disarmed. At her mercy. You always were.

She leans forward to bonk her forehead against yours.

“Glad someone in this cruel world finally understands me and my line of work,” she says, half-joking.

“No one understands the importance of your job better than me, babe.” You continue, at this point unable to remove the sarcasm from your tone even if you tried. She nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder facedown, head supported by the cushiness of your tit. You weave your fingers in her hair.

“The honorable burden of great duty… The unfathomable smothering of moral obligation, even. One might describe it as an immensely… strategic pressure-”

“-For FUCK’s SAKE”

“You have worker’s rights, you know! Demand an hour off — paid — in your underground torture chamber-breakroom. You’re entitled to relax and sip coffee as you watch the bodies hit the floor, goddammit!”

Feigning exasperation, Sev dramatically collapses backward starfish-style on the old-ass creaky-ass decrepit-ass daddy longlegs convention of a double bed the two of you share; in a shithole apartment, in a shady-ass neighborhood, in a collapsing city. That’s how it was between the two of you. Underneath it all, she trusts that you’ll always be there to kiss her wounds, to make sure her collar is straight and there’s no shmutz on her face. You trust that at the end of the day, it’s you she’s coming home to.

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wwooyology · 8 months ago

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Left Alone | L.HS

「prompt」 : abandoned 「pairing」 : bf!heeseung x fem!reader 「word count」 : 1.5k

「synopsis」 : you and heeseung had been together for three years, but little by little, heeseung started to show signs of not being interested until it led to you being abandoned at the restaurant you had booked for your anniversary.

「genre」 : angst, fluff if you squint

「warnings」 : crying, cussing, arguments, breakup, reader gets stood up, mentions of alcohol, lmk if I missed anything!!!

masterlist ─ navi. ─ angstober list

“Are you ready to order yet, Miss?” The waiter walked over to your table for what seemed like the hundredth time, a look of pity gleaming in her eyes as she held out the little notepad in her hand.

Turning your attention away from the window where you hope by some miracle that Heeseung would show up in front of you. You offered her a sweet smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes before glancing down at the empty wine glass in your hand.

“Just another glass of wine,” you told her, your voice sounded defeated. She nodded before turning to walk away.

You tapped the dark screen of your phone until the time showed up. It had been about an hour and a half since he was supposed to be here. There had been not a single text or call, but as sad as you may be, you weren’t surprised. This was just the straw that broke the camel's back.

For the past two months, he has slowly started showing signs of disinterest in your relationship. It started out with his calls becoming shorter and his texts more dry. You had brushed it off as him just being tired from work, but it never got better, if anything it only got worse. Then it turned into him not putting a lot of effort in seeing you when he used to always want to see you any chance that he got before it went to him ignoring your calls and texts, even going as far as avoiding you entirely when you hung out with shared friends.

At first, it hurt you deeply, leaving you to cry into your pillows for hours on end at night. You wanted to confront him about his actions, but at the same time, you were scared to lose what you had because your mother had always told you that if you love someone, you can work through anything. So that’s what you were going to do, use this reservation you had booked for your four-year anniversary to ask him what was going on.

But just like the little voice in the back of your head told you, he stood you up.

When the waiter came back with your glass of wine, you thanked her before asking for the bill. She gave you a sympathetic smile and told you that she would bring it right out.

After finishing your glass of wine you settled your bill and made your way out of the restaurant. Just then, you felt your phone buzz in your hand, and a small flicker of hope bloomed in your chest that it might be Heeseung telling you that he had forgotten and he was sorry. But that spark was rudely dimmed when you saw that it was a message from Jake, your and Heeseung’s mutual friend.

You waved down a taxi and called the male. He picked up the phone just as you shut the car door behind you. Moving the device away from your ear for a moment, you told the driver your address before sitting back in your seat.

“Hey, y/n, where are you?” Jake asked. The music in the background was clearly audible, easily telling you that he was at a party.

“On my way home from the restaurant.” Your voice was void of any emotion, and Jake could tell that something was wrong.

“Restaurant?” His tone was confused, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. You found it just a tad amusing that Heeseung didn’t even bother telling his buddies about your date when he wouldn’t waste a second telling them in the past.

“Yeah. Restaurant. I was supposed to be having a date.” You told him, your free hand twiddling with the hem of your dress and eyes focused on the passing buildings outside.

“What do you mean date?” Jake was beyond confused because Heeseung was with him at the party, so who would you have been with? Then the other part of your sentence clicked in his head, “Wait, supposed to have a date?”

Scoffing, you held back tears the further you got from the restaurant. "Why don’t you ask your best friend?”

Jake felt his heart drop, and he told you to give him a second before you heard shuffling on the other side, followed by the sounds of a door. The music grew louder, and you guessed that he had walked back into the house. You then heard him saying something to someone, but you couldn’t make out what was said due to the music. Then you heard another door close before the music became muffled once more.

“Jake, dude, what the fuck? I was in the middle of a game.” Heeseung’s voice echoed through the phone and your heart squeezed tightly in your chest. He had chosen to go to a party instead of meeting you at the restaurant for your anniversary.

“No, Hee, why the hell did you stand y/n up?” Jake’s tone was harsh as he laid into the older male, “you could have easily told me that you had a date I would have understood. Y/n matters more than some damn party you need–”

“Oh my god, can you stop? The last damn thing I wanna hear about is y/n. Y/n this, y/n that. I don’t give a fuck!” Heeseung blew up, and his words left a gaping wound in your heart, tears rolling down your eyes. “I am sick and tired of hearing about her and how I should be doing this or that; guess what? She’s not worth my time anymore.”

Your hand covered your mouth to muffle the sound of your cries. You wanted to hang up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The other line fell silent for a moment before Jake’s voice came through again, anger lacing his words.

“So you waste hers?” Jake tried to control his volume, but it was getting increasingly more difficult as he took in Heeseung’s indifferent expression. “You could have easily just ended things, but you want to be an asshole and just lead her on?”

“Jake…” Your voice trailed on, trying to gain the male’s attention, but he couldn’t hear you.

“Not to mention it is low as fuck to just leave her hanging at a restaurant, not only that it’s late and she’s in the city alone.” Jake really laid into Heeseung, who just stood there, his expression becoming unreadable.

“Jake.” You called out louder, catching both of the male’s attention, and Jake quickly brought the phone back up to his ear, ignoring the shocked look on the older’s face. “Just forget it; he’s not worth it.”

Jake wanted to object, but you quickly reassured him that it was fine. He then turned and glared at Heeseung once more. Then he turned the phone on speaker, wanting Heeseung to hear whatever you were about to say.

“He’s not worth it anymore, Jake. Just tell him that we’re done, and I’ll leave all his stuff outside so he can pick it up. But I do not want to see him anymore.” Your voice shook as you tried to stop crying, but the tears were endless.

“Y/n–” Heeseung called out to you, but Jake moved the phone away from him.

Your breath caught in your throat at his voice, but you quickly swallowed it down before speaking, “What you did really hurt me, Heeseung; like Jake said, you could have just ended things, but you decided to make me suffer while you led me on. So we’re done.”

Heeseung took a step forward to say something, but Jake moved away once more and took you off the speakerphone. “You’ve fucked up, Heeseung, and I can’t and won’t stand for it.”

Then, without another word, Jake walked out of the room, putting the phone up to his ear so he could talk to you. He didn’t miss the quiet sounds of you crying making his heart hurt, a sigh pulling from his lips.

“Are you almost home?” he asked, and you told him that the driver had just pulled in. "Okay, I’m heading over, and we can watch a movie or something, and I’ll make you something to eat.”

His words pulled a small laugh from you as you shut the car door behind you once more, “No offense, Jake, but I don’t think I’mma let you cook anything.” You joked, wiping the tears from your face as you walked up to your front door, “plus, haven’t you been drinking?”

“No, Jay and I were the DDs tonight, and I’m sure Jay can handle them,” Jake reassured you. You knew that arguing with him would be pointless, so you just said okay.

Once the phone had been hung up you dropped your hands to your sides, eyes taking in the area around you. Pictures of you and Heeseung lined the halls making your chest tight with grief. Trying your best to ignore them, you got to your room so you could change out of the uncomfortable dress you were wearing.

Then, just like Jake had said, he showed up, offering a bag of fast food and some ice cream. You both then spent the entirety of the night watching movies until you both passed out on the couch. The thoughts of throwing your four-year-long relationship out the window were saved for another time, but for now, you just wanted to forget.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

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misanoires · 3 months ago

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꣑୧ thinking about mean roommate!sukuna who made you cry !

content warning — angst, crying, a lot of cursing, yelling, making up. RUSHED !! not even going to lie, the ending was really rushed and i kinda gave up but this is pretty much a filler and i made this in one day (¬`‸´¬)

sukuna wasn’t the nicest person to be around, he was rude, mean and arrogant ... also don’t forget annoying! he had a lovely habit of pissing you off and boy was he good at it.

you were minding your business reading when suddenly your stomach started to growl. you closed your book and hopped off your bed to head into the kitchen and it seems like your fellow roommate had the same idea. you crept up behind sukuna who was making him something for lunch. "what’cha making?" you smiled. he rolled his eyes and replied, "can't you see what I'm making four eyes? i thought glasses was supposed to help your vision not make you even more blind." your smile faltered.

"i was just asking—," he cut you off with a glare. "can you just shut up? i'm trying to concentrate." you felt the heat of embarrassment creep onto your cheeks. you looked down at the tile floor not knowing that to do next. "and can you leave the kitchen? looking like a kicked puppy and shit."

"fine asshole." you mumbled to yourself before leaving to your room. sukuna was way taller, bigger and clearing stronger than you, so you obeyed him. honestly you were afraid of him, but of mostly what he could do to you. you went back into your room and when you came back out like an hour later, you saw a plate on the counter. chicken and fried rice was set neatly on a plate with a cup of fruit punch waiting for you.

even though it brought a tiny smile onto your face ... that wasn't the only time he was mean to you.

another time was when you had gotten new furniture for your shared apartment. since sukuna and his friends, toji and gojo broke the coffee table, he handed you money to pick out a new one. you picked out a white rounded table with glass on the top. you made your way to sukuna's room and quietly knocked on the door.

"come in!" you heard him yell. you quickly pushed open the door. "hey sukuna, can you get the table out the car? It's too heavy for me." you offered him a smile and he looked at you with a deadpanned face. "can't you just do it? i'm in the middle of a game."

"i know but it's really heavy." sukuna sighed and sat up then snatched his headphones off and tossing them on his bed. "you always need help huh?" he pushed past you making you bump into the wall. you help your eyes began to water.

no y/n don't let his words bring you down.

you breathed in deeply and closed your eyes tight. you forced a smile onto your face and walked back into the living room, only to see that sukuna had already brought the box containing the table up. you rolled up your sleeves and began to open the box and placing the table pieces on the floor. sukuna who was watching you intently, decided to go back into his room — so without another word, he left.

several minutes later, he came into the living room and was met with you were wiping sweat off your forehead. you picked up instructions and furrowed your eyebrows. you were stuck on one part for at least 40 minutes. sukuna rolled his eyes and sat down next to you on the floor.

"are you stupid? that part is on backwards which is why you're confused." your mouth made an 'oh' shape and you went to unscrew the leg but to Sukuna you were moving too slow. "move four eyes, are you even capable of doing anything by yourself?" he took the table leg and the screwdriver away from your hands. "whatever ryōmen, i'm not doing this with you today. if you wanna act like an asshat then you can do it by yourself." you got up swiftly and walked to your room, slamming the door behind you.

but the straw that broke the camel's back was when sukuna caught you looking at other apartments.

you were sitting at the kitchen table and lazily scrolling through an website that had rented apartments listed. with the way you and sukuna have been at each others throats lately you needed to leave — and immediately. but what you didnt know was that sukuna was behind you eyeballing your everymove.

"what are you doing y/n?" his voice was low and raspy, you can tell he had just woken up from a deep slumber. if it wasnt for the annoyed tone in his voice you wouldve probaly been flustered. you cleared your throat, "im looking at other apartments."

"but why?" his voice started to raise a litle and you could already see where this is going. you slammed your laptop closed and hopped off the chair.

"because i dont want to be roomates with your brute ass." you began to walk off but a rough hand held you by your elbow and forced you to spin around. "why? your literally only paying a quater of rent and now you wanna leave?"

you scrunched your face. " what does that have to do with anything? and also you cant be serious! like foreal stop talking to me crazy." once again went to walk away but a booming voice echoed throughout your apartmen.

"y/n don’t FUCKING walk away from me!" you froze. that was first time he's ever raised his voice at you. "and look at me while i'm fucking talking to you." he walked around you to look you in your face. he saw the way your eyebrows furrowed, and fist clenched. "and WHY SHOULD I?! JUST SO YOU CAN THROW ANOTHER INSULT AT ME!"

"NO BECAUSE THATS WHAT ADULTS SHOULD DO!"

"SHUT UP, LIKE IM SO TIRED OF THIS. OF YOU. OF EVERYTHING."

you ran your hands through your hair frustratedly. you were so sick of him always cussing and yelling at you and picking at you. you felt like it was getting hard to breathe and the walls were getting smaller and smaller. he walked up to you and closed the distance. neither one of you were backing down and it was now turning into a yelling match.

after several insults you shoved him away from you, "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME SUKUNA!" he flew into the wall and when he finally looked back up at you, your hand was over your chest and you started to hyperventerlate. he watched as you broke down sobbing, clearly to overwhelmed. it felt like a boulder on your chest. you didnt want to end up like this but with all the fighting, yelling mataches and cursing at each other you just couldn't take it anyone.

"all those insults i take from you and yet i try have a smile on my smile and you sit here ... and think you can question me about why the FUCK im leaving? and YOU’RE THE PROBLEM?! fuck you." when you turned around, he went to say something but closed his mouth. he knew he had finally messed up and pushed you beyond your limit.

it had been several hours since you and sukuna had spoken. it was currently 1:30 in the morning and sukuna had been standing at your door, contemplating on what he should say to you. when he finally gathered the confidence to open the door he heard you quietly sob. he felt like the biggest dick ever. sukuna knocked on the door then pushed the door open. you laid curled in a ball on your bed, hugging a random stuffed animal you have. he didn't say anything, but you felt a big dip in your bed.

"why are you in here?" you wanted to sound harsh, but your voice came out in a shaky and quiet whisper. "i didn't mean for you to cry y/n ... i never meant to make you cry or make you feel like i hated you —," before he could finish you cut him off.

"but you did sukuna, you constantly look down on me. make me feel like i'm stupid and you make me feel like i'm scum on the bottom of your shoe." your voice broke, you felt the tears were starting to come out again. you decided to sit up to look him in the face, but he was staring onto the floor. you don't know when the tears fell but they were falling hard and fast.

"i ... didn't know you felt that way, i was just teasing you. i know that it doesn't make you feel better but i'm sorry." sukuna looks at you with an expression that you never seen on his face before.

was he actually being sincere?

sukuna caught you off guard when he pulled you into a tight hug and that just made you break down more. "y/n i'm really sorry, i didn't mean to make you cry."

it just felt like weight was lifted off your chest. he apologized and it made you feel a lot better but it's not enough. "i hope you know a hug and a simple sorry isn't just gonna make everything okay again. i need some type of payment." you giggled and broke the hug. sukuna rolled his eyes and said, "i know so how about tomorrow we head into town, and we do the things you want to do?"

you flashed him your biggest smile and showed all your teeth. "plus, you have to get me that stuff animal i want."

sukuna smirked, "deal."

ㅤ(˶ˆᗜˆ˵) © misanoires | do not steal, copy or translate my work

#𝐫𝐲𝐨̄𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 | angst #erycore🧛🏼‍♀️#ery!writes — ✉️#jjk x reader #misanoires #ery da goat #hehe :3 #jjk blog #jjk angst #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #mml

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caxde · 1 year ago

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drunken confession | steve harrington x reader

summary you're Dustin's older sister, a night out with you're friends makes you see that here might be more between you and Steve (7.5k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff (a lot), mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, tabacco and anxiety (briefly). and eventual smut (p in v, hj unproteccted) english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

“So, are you going out tonight?” Dustin asked once again, making you center your attention on him, you stop daydreaming.

“Um, I dunno. We’ll get some drinks, better if you don't wait up I think.” You answered, looking at him. Your brother always seemed like he had more to say, like there was always a puzzle, or an equation that he had to solve in the back of his mind.

“You’re gonna have to talk to mom.” He scuffed, almost like a laugh.

“What? Why?” Your eyebrows scratched as you asked, your shoulders got high, and so did your voice.

“She’s not letting you the car again if you’re out drinking.”

“Well, I’m not driving so…” You finished, letting the fork in your plate, the clinking of it ending the conversation briefly.

It seemed like it was going to be a quiet night anyway. Just you, and your friends, nothing unusual. Though you still didn’t know if you’d be drinking in someone’s house or out out.

Because those are two very different things.

If you were in someone’s house, you’d be calm, the lights won’t annoy you, the music won’t be too loud, and there won’t be too many people.

And you’d promised yourself that even if that happened, you weren’t going to overreact, because these things are normal, and it is okay. You're safe, in someone's house, and out in a club or bar.

Thankfully the bar was still empty when you arrived.

And the first round of beers went down pretty quickly.

So did the second one.

Nancy was excited. You could tell she was really happy, finally having received her acceptance letter to the college of her dreams. She couldn’t stop blushing every time somebody new walked into the bar and said congratulations.

Robin was as chatty as ever, as she normally was to be honest. You’d found out that Robin gets excited over other peoples’ excitement, and you often thought to yourself what a good cheerleader she would make if she wasn’t as clumsy as she is.

Eddie was quiet. It wasn’t unusual, not this early in the evening. He always gets more comfortable once he gets used to the people that are wherever you guys end up, and once he realises that nobody looks at him like he’s a freak anymore, in fact, since Corroded Coffin was gaining a bit of a reputation people tried to get close to him, talk to him. He’d never say it, but he loved it.

And, Steve.

Well, he was just electric. Something happened whenever you two were in the same place. He’ll participate in whatever conversation is going on at the table, but for a moment, however brief, he’d look at you, and you swear time would stop.

You didn’t know why that happened, you just enjoyed it.

And it was happening right now, as you were finishing your second beer, and he was already asking for the third round, his hand up with the empty bottle, once the barman saw Steve, he putted five fingers up, Steve nodded.

And as it always happened after two beers, you needed to go out, get some air and smoke. And as always, Eddie walked out with you.

“You doing okay Henderson?” Eddie muttered as he offered you his lighter, smoke already escaping his lips as he talked.

“Yeah, just thinking.” You answered quickly, just before lighting the camel you had in your pocket.

“You need to stop doing all that thinking.” He laughed, trying -with no success- to make you at least chuckle. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I think you already know if I’m being honest.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, pleading that he won’t make you actually say it.

“For what it’s worth, I think he’s just as much in his head as you are.” He admitted, as he took one long drag of his cigarette, almost gone now.

“You’re only saying that because you’re my friend.” You brush it off, not really ready to believe that he might be right, not wanting to believe him, in case he was actually right.

“And I’m also his friend.” He added, looking into your eyes, a soft smile in his face, and something else that you can’t recognise now. “And honestly, you two… something’s going on, it’s not hard to see it.”

“Nothing has happened. Nothing can anyway.” You add, as you throw your cigarette to the floor, stomping on it so it’s definitely put out.

“Why would you say that?” Eddie asks, his eyebrows raised, curiosity filling his voice.

“Because he still likes Nancy.”

Everyone had paid for one round. And you were now debating if you should go home or stay for a little longer.

Nancy wanted to leave, and so did Robin.

Eddie didn’t mind.

Steve wanted to stay.

And you weren’t sure why but so did you.

So, the table only had three new beers now, and a louder conversation.

The bar had filled up, and the music was louder now. So of course you needed to scream a bit to hear each other. Again you weren’t really talking about anything important, just enjoying the company they provided, and the warmth that you felt being in a space with your favourite people.

“Edds, I’m going out for a smoke break, wanna come?” You asked softly, the yellow packet already on your hand, trying not to feel nervous as you feel Steve looking deep into your eyes.

“Um, not really… I really need to take a piss.” He laughs a bit more than necessary, the alcohol finally taking him over.

“I’ll come.” Steve's voice finally could be heard. That stupid smile in his lips anytime he gets to spend quiet time with you.

“Come on.” You smiled shyly as you stood up, a bit too fast, feeling the alcohol all at once once you finally were out of your chair.

The cold air was the first thing that you felt, hitting you right in the middle of your chest, though you did not feel its coldness, at least not now. Not when he was right there beside you.

You’ll deny it every time somebody asks, but the way he lights the cigarette was hypnotizing.

His long fingers curving to stop the wind from blowing away the flame, his lips holding it tightly, his eyes looking down carefully so that he does not burn himself. And just the way his nose and parted lips would shine in a soft orange light once the flame was ignited, it made him look both peaceful and angelic. But honestly, that wasn’t the best part.

The best part of his little ritual came when he’d scooch over you, his face still -even if it was soft enough that he wouldn't notice- scrunched up, concentrating so that the flame wouldn’t disappear. His hands covering the end of your cigarette now, and he would look at you attentively, holding the lighter until smoke came out of your lips.

You didn’t pay attention to him in that moment -you never could if you didn’t wanna burn yourself- but if you did you’d see the way his eyes couldn’t stay away from the way your lips look.

And then, he’d always say and do the same thing.

First, he takes a step back, so he’s not actually so close to you in case it would annoy you, but his feet would stay pointed at you, just like his attention was fully with you, and the way you look up at him. her and her dove eyes. He thinks he could see them even if he closes his eyes.

Then his free hand would travel to the top of his head, retouching his hair once again, he does that right before he tilted his head to the left.

Then he always asks the same thing.

“So, how are you doing?”

And you’d always say the same thing.

“Good, I’m doing good.”

But really, you wanted to say.

“I’m always good when I’m with you.”

But it didn’t matter how much you'd drink, you never find the courage.

But for some reason, today, after he asked you how you were doing he kept talking.

“I’m not gonna lie to you Henderson, I’m getting pretty drunk today.” And he laughed. I could listen that laugh forever, you kept thinking. Though you didn’t need to say it, he knew it as soon as you smiled up at him and bite your lower lips as you looked at him.

It drove him mad.

“Honestly?” You asked as he kept laughing. He nodded and scratched the bridge of his nose with his thumb, cigarette still in his hand. “I’m getting drunk too.”

“Can I tell you something else?” He demanded, his eyebrows raising for just a second, your cheeks starting to hurt from just how much you were smiling. As soon as you nodded he lowered his head, and his voice. “It’s a really stupid thing.” He added, his words slurring a bit.

“It’s never stupid if you say it.” You say back. It always happened, when you were drunk you could not lie, and with that, you’d say things more sincerely, calmer and softer. Even more when Steve was the one listening to them.

“You look really pretty today.”

You were expecting everything but that. Your face lighted up, your eyes shined brighter and you didn’t even know your smile could grow wider. You shook your head and scoffed. A friendly and shocked reaction over such sincerity.

“You’re an idiot.” It’s the only thing you managed to say back.

But he knew you were happy. Just as much as he knew his heart had skipped a beat as soon as he saw your eyes squint for a second. It was becoming impossible to act normal around you, he realised.

You stayed there, under the cold starry sky, not saying anything, and it didn’t matter. You didn’t need to.

Once you finished smoking in such a comfortable silence it was hard to go back inside, but even if you wanted to stay in that quiet moment, you headed back, only to find Eddie deep in a conversation with a girl you didn’t know.

Well, it wasn’t really a conversation, more so he had his arm around her waist and was following her out.

Steve laughed in shock first, after looking at you.

“Guess that means we’ll have to drink his beer.” You add in a chuckle.

Your body was all warm and fuzzy. You weren’t going to drink anymore.

But Steve seemed to keep going, you weren’t sure why, probably just the habit, oblivious to you, it was to calm his nervous thoughts.

The bar was about to close, and that meant that it was getting quiet again, no need to scream anymore.

“Your ears get red when you’ve had enough to drink.” You point out touching the tips of Steve’s ears, brushing his hair behind them. You were giggly and touchy, even more so now that no rational thought was in your brain.

“Well… so does your nose.” He replays back, his eyes softer, as he lets his index finger touch the tip of your nose. “bub.” He adds. You’re not sure if he says it as a reaction to touching it or as a pet name, but you don’t care either way.

“You’re wasted Harrington.” You giggle as you say his last name, your hands travelling down his neck, into his chest, falling clumsy -but softly- into his lap. He loses his breath for a second as he lets himself enjoy the way your skin feels against his.

“Like father, like son, right?” He half jokes as he raises the beer he still is working on finishing.

“What?” You shake your head at him. “No, no way. You look just like your mom.” You add. Your voice feels like a soft song to him at that moment. People never tell him that he looks like his mom, even if he always wanted that.

“You’re the first person to say that, y’know” He confesses, his hand now resting on his hand, his eyes looking deep into yours.

“Well… It’s true. Your mom’s beautiful, and so are you.” Your cheeks go red as soon as you realize what you just said. Though you mean every word of it.

“You think I’m beautiful?” He asks, for a second it seems like he’s mocking you, but you know him well enough to know that he’s just shocked at the way you say things, so truthfully, so honestly. You always have the ability to leave him speechless.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” You sound more sure of yourself now, as you snatch a little beer from his bottle, he looks at you with his eyebrows raised, surprised and in absolute awe of you.

“Not handsome?” You shake your head no as you giggle a bit at him, “Beautifull” He elongates the last L, a grin appearing on his lips.

That stupid Steve grin.

“Beautiful people are soft and kind. Not just on the outside, but all of them. That’s you.” His whole expression softened, even more if it was possible. His eyes were a pool of honey and coffee, and they could not stop looking at you, with pure adoration.

“You’re the one being an idiot now.”

You giggled as you felt the last sip travel down your throat, you nodded before looking back at him.

“They’re closing, we should go.” You point out once you see the lights of the bar light up. The universal sign that the night had come to an end.

The ride home was always fun, and worth remembering, every single one.

This one however, was special.

Your hand rested on the back of his head, playing with his hair lazily, not really thinking about it. It felt nice, and it was the closest you could be to him.

That’s what you thought anyway.

What you didn’t expect was Steve deciding to let his hand rest on top of your thigh, not striking it, not squeezing it, it just rested there. His thumb drew a repetitive pattern, a kind of gesture that to you meant I’m here, but to him it screamed I don’t wanna leave.

Once he stopped the car in front of your house, he whipped around to look at you. Once again, he said nothing. He just looked at you. You knew what Robin would say if he saw that, probably something like stop admiring at each other and go to bed, please?. Eddie would probably just laugh and give you a little shove. But right now, the only thing that escaped your lips (that might be trembling because of your nervous heart, or maybe it was because his hand was still in your thigh, and yours was still on the back of his neck) was a soft “Thank you” And he just shook his head, a its nothing gesture.

Though you weren’t ready for him to get out of his car once you were already on the steps of your house.

“You okay Steve?” You asked as you saw him approaching.

He didn’t say anything.

He just hugged you.

It had never felt like this. His hands holding you closer than ever, his head resting on the nape of your neck. Of course you returned the feeling, holding him thigh, not wanting to let go. Your head rested on his chest, and you could smell every inch of him. Aftershave, a deep cologne, the beer that you had drank and cigarette smoke. You closed your eyes for a second, trying to memorise how it all felt, how his respiration slowed for that moment, how he took a deep breath before letting you go and how he looked down at you, his honey eyes shining. His cheeks a bit flustered, and you're guessing that yours are too.

“Yeah. Good night honey.”

honeyhoneyhoney.

“It would just be a quick drop, you wouldn’t even be five minutes late I swear!” Dustin whined again. He knew he was getting you annoyed, and frustrated, he could tell by the way your eyebrows were scrunched up and your nails were getting buried into your waist, holding tight onto something so you wouldn’t snap at him.

“It’s not about dropping you off, it’s just…” You always had trouble communicating when you were like this, when your thoughts were going faster than your actions, when you got overwhelmed by things that nobody seemed to get overwhelmed by. “I’m supposed to go to Edds show, and I really don’t want to be late, because if I am, I might not find them and then that would mean I-”

“They’ll wait for you.” He looked down at the floor, his hands had his fingers intertwined, the same anxious tick you had, it looks like he inherited that too. “Please? Will goes back to California in a couple days and we really want to finish his campaign.”

You nodded, you understood the need to see someone, a friend. You know how much Dustin misses Will when he’s not around. He nodded back, and he sat on top of your bed. Happy. Calm, not pushing your buttons anymore.

“So… Who’s going?”

“Where?”

“To Eddie’s show.” He gestured with his hands, a weird look in his face that you had no time to get into.

“Um, Robin and Steve.” You add back, your voice a bit higher in pitch, turning your back so you can look into your closet, hoping to find something that might work. Your indecision -you often think- is the worst thing that happens to you. “Nancy was supposed to come but she said something came up, so…”

“She didn’t tell you?” The tone of his voice made you turn fast to him, a shocked honesty that makes you wonder.

“Tell me what?”

“Her and Jonathan got back together.”

“Oh.” oh. “How do you know?” Your ears were ringing, poor Steve you thought. Poor heart-broken Steve, the only thing you ever wanted for him was for him to be happy, it didn’t matter with who, as long as he actually loved the person and was loved in return.

“Steve told me.” Even if your little brother’s voice was calm, he was still looking at you with that same look. The one he uses when he’s trying to gather information, seeking a reaction, and if you were being honest, he was getting one.

“Is Steve okay?” You needed to know, because right now it was all you could think about, about the kind boy that deserves to be loved, even if it can’t be by you.

“You’re kidding? He helped Jonathan get her back!” That confused you even further, why would Steve help him get the girl he’s in love, get together with someone else. You turned back and started grabbing different tops and shirts and laying them above the bed.

“Why would he do that? Isn’t he like, in love with Nance?” The way he started laughing made your shoulders tense for a second, jumping at such a reaction. “What are you laughing for?”

“He’s not in love with her! Jesus, you can be blind sometimes…” The palm of his face brushes his face as he looks at you, a puzzled look still on yours.

“I don’t know what you’re on kid, but I need to get ready and have no clue what to actually wear so…” He picked up the white tank top and threw it to you.

“You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?” Dustins i’m much clever than you tone came back as he stood up. You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a petty smile.

“Yeah, I’ve been told.”

As you parked outside where Eddie was playing, a few minutes late, you grew nervous. The parking lot was full of cars, and finding a spot took longer than you anticipated, so by the time you found a spot and got to the entrance, the queue only seemed longer and longer. People standing in a not-so-neat line, chatting amongst themselves, shivering away the coldness of the night. Cigarette smoke and off-key lyrics filled the ambient of the people pulled away.

You realise at that moment, you didn’t have a ticket.

Steve and Robin had gotten in with Eddie.

And you had no idea how to get in, so you took a quick lap to see if you found someone, anyone.

Thankfully for you, Steve was by the entrance door, chatting away with one of the security guys. Even if Steve was tall, and had a wide back, the man talking to him toward over him, it almost made you giggle, seeing him as someone smaller, when he usually was the one that filled the room, even with just his presence.

As you walked to him, smoke escaping your lips and a scent of burnt smoke following you, you remembered the conversation you had with Dustin. And still, you didn’t believe him, at least not until you saw the way his demeanor changed when you approached him, and a relieved “Steve” came out of you.

Steve lost his breath for a moment.

You looked truly angelic, and you didn’t even need to try. You in that white tank top that made your breasts appear larger, more exposed than they’re usually are, your hair down, letting the left side of your neck free, as the wind blew, and your jeans hugging every curve of your body. It drove him mad. Even worse, he always loved when you wore red lipstick, like tonight.

Of course he wasn’t in love with anyone but you.

But you didn’t know.

The same way he didn’t know just how much it drove you crazy when his shirts hugged his arms like that, his veins more prominent when his arms were crossed on his chest. His hair always seemed to float, like it had a gravity of his own, but that single strand of hair that felt in between his eyes made you focus on him more. His soft honey dark eyes that were only looking at you, half lidded and full of adoration. It drove you crazy.

Of course you weren’t in love with anyone but him.

But he didn’t know.

Just like you had thought until a few hours ago that he still loved, or liked Nancy, it wasn’t until he had picked up Robin a few minutes ago that he didn’t find out that what you had with Eddie was purely platonic. Robin had laughed just as much as Dustin did, and called him an idiot all the same. But still, you both thought that your feelings weren’t returned, because that would be too perfect to be real. Impossible, just a dream.

However, the way your name sounded when Steve said it made you forget about everything else, and just focus on him.

A quick hug, not like the one he had given you that night he had driven you the night after you’d spent your entire night in a bar. You had come to realise, he became braver once some time had passed, and so did you.

So you headed inside, where Robin was waiting for the both of you in the bar, a warm welcome and a big cheers with some beers that you grabbed as you moved further into the pit.

The crowd was electric, everyone cheering for the show to start, eager to sing along with the band. You followed along, screamed when Corroded Coffin finally came on stage, whoo’d Eddie when he asked How are you doing Indianapolis and laughed when he admitted that he missed saying how are you Hawkins.

Robin cheered the loudest and it made Steve laugh. One of those authentic, closing your eyes and holding your stomach kind of laughs. You thought that it was one of the highlights of the night already.

But as these things often go, once Eddie’s band was over, and the next one came, the bar got even more crowded, and the lights felt brighter, and everyone seemed to be looking at you, judging or god knows what. Everyone seemed to bump into you, and you had already pulled the glue out of your empty cristal bottle on both sides. Breathing was becoming a hard task, and so did hearing anything that was being said to you.

“Honey” You heard Steve as soon as you felt his warm hand on your shoulder. You looked up to him, a haze in your eyes.”Are you okay?” He halved screamed into your ear, his breath lingering into your skin.

You pull him closer for a moment, afraid he might not listen.

“Too many people.” You’re not sure if he could hear you, or what he could do. You try even harder to relax your breathing, to stop looking around. But it all ends when you feel his fingers intertwined with yours.

You look up to him, he just nods to Robin who nods back at him, and he starts walking to the back of the pit, the lights seem to not burn anymore, and the people are few and far between. He just stays there, with you for a second before he opens his mouth. Looking at you and the way your eyes are scanning every single person in the room, looking for something that you don’t know what is.

“Honey?” There it is again, the soft worried Steve voice, his attention only on you.

You look back at him, as you feel his hand grabbing yours thighter. He’s the only thing you’re looking at now.

“Do you need to get out? Get some air?” He knows you won’t actually answer, but takes the nodding that you do as a clear enough sign.

The creaking of the door and the friendly doorman brings you back down to earth, and so does the wind hitting your chest.

“Better?” He asks again, desperate for some sort of confirmation from you.

“Yeah, I just- Sorry…” You sort of mumble, more to yourself than to him.

In that moment you realise that your hands are still tangled together, and the blood rushes to your cheeks as soon as you look down at them. They fit together so naturally, you think. Like a missing piece of a puzzle.

“Don’t apologize. We’ll stay here as long as you need, ‘s fine.” You instinctively bite the inside of your cheek as you nod at him, a soft smile, a thank you of sort appears on your face, as does a grin on his.

Without letting go of you, he reaches down into his jeans front pocket, and takes out a box of Camel, offering you to take one. Smoking might be bad for your lungs, but it does help with regulating your breathing, and he knew that’s just what you needed, and honestly, you were craving one, so you nodded again, searching for a lighter with the cigarette already in between your lips. Before you even find it, you feel the warmth of fire close to your mouth, and you just inhale the smoke.

“Thank you…” He shakes his head, as he inches closer to you, the same strand of hair falling between his eyes again.

“There’s no need for that.” He whispers, his words just as sweet as he is. His free hand pushes your hair behind your ear, and falls slowly to the nape of your neck, letting it rest there for just a second, his thumb stroking the end of your jaw in soft short motions, holding you up so you look at him, your doe eyes looking deep into his, he swears he could melt right here and there. You were driving him crazier everyday with the way you looked at him.

For a second there, he thinks you might even love him back.

“I just don’t know why I get like that, when there’s so many… I dunno” you scoff off, as your shoulders shrug ever so slightly, enough for him to catch, enough for your hair to move again and let the smell of your shampoo reach him. “I’m okay, don’t worry.” You say with a smile.

He looks deep into his eyes, looking for any sign that you might be lying, he doesn’t find any. And he likes to think that you’re better because of him. It's funny how right he is.

“We can stay here as long as you need.” Steve reasures you once again, getting closer again. Your body and his only a push away from touching.

“You’re always so sweet to me.” You’re thinking out loud now, you bite your lower lip as soon as you see him mask his blush with a soft chuckle, as his grin deepens, and you stop for a second to look at his pretty pink lips. You even let yourself imagine what it would be like to kiss them.

Steve debates what to do next. He knows you’re not lying, he knows that you’re being sincere and truthful. He can tell by the way your eyes are half lidded, looking at him like you’re in the safest space possible -even when you’re actually outside downtown Indianapolis- so in the end, he just wraps his arms around you. And he holds you even tighter when he feels you wrapping your arms behind his neck, and the way you stand on your tiptoes so you can hold him closer, your leg between his, his hands playing with the ends of your air. He breathes you in, intoxicating himself with the way you smell. You’re worried he’ll feel just how fast your heart is beating. But you’re too occupied smiling deeply and sincerely.

He feels safe.

Yes, there might be some butterflies, but they’re not nervous ones, it’s all just calmness. Love even.

He ends up paying for your drinks, and you spend the night dancing at the back of the pit with Robin and eventually Eddie joins you. You laugh, and dance around, sing the songs off key with Robin making Eddie laugh as he joins you. Admiring the way Steve covers his face embarrassed, that the idiots causing the whole club to cheer you on as you move are indeed his friends. But what makes you have the deepest smile is everytime you catch Steve eyes, thay always seem to be on you. He even dances with you a couple times when Robin or Eddie go away to the bathroom or to grab more drinks.

You don’t care because he is here and everything feels right.

But the night was coming to an end, and you still were buzzing with energy.

Even outside, where the cold wind wrapped around you you were still singing and dancing until Eddie started speaking.

“Steve, can I take your car?” He asks, and it makes you all turn around and look at him.

“What for? Where’s your van?” Robin followed, her voice raised a little too loud.

“I think Gareth might have taken it.” Eddie explains as he points at his van driving away, with Gareth in the driver’s seat. You can’t help but laugh a bit, stopping slowly as you feel Steve laying his arm around your shoulders, you let yourself think of it as an embrace. Or maybe he was just cold.

“Who’ll drive me home?” He mutters as he searches for the keys in his pocket.

“I’ll drive you.” You say, looking up at him. Steve’s eyes shine brighter, with that look. A look you have only seen in him once before, long ago.

“Sure.” He mutters, a grin in his face. “You won’t kill us?” He jokes as he pushes some hair away from your face with the hand that rests right where your neck meets your shoulder.

“I’ll come with you” Robin mumbles as she approaches Eddie, her eyebrows raised.

Steve knows that if Robin could talk to him now she would plead with him, to actually make a move. He decides that she’s right.

“Alright, let’s get home.” Eddie winks at you, a look that begs you to be careful. He grabs the keys that Steve throws him, the jingle of them making you realise that this was actually happening.

You blame it on the alcohol. But you have to admit that holding his waist was something you have wanted to do for so long its feels fucking angelic once your fingers touch his skin, under his shirt, right above the seam of his jeans.

Steve chews gum when he’s nervous, and the minty flavor, or maybe the amount of beer inside his system makes him say the most stupid thing ever.

“Do you like gum?”

“Yeah”

“You want some?”

“Sure.” You stop, expecting him to reach down his pocket and grab the small packet. You part your lips open expecting him to do so. Instead, Steve in a bold move opens his mouth and pulls you closer.

Before you can even process what he’s doing, his thumb reaches your jaw, opening your mouth a bit more for you, and you see the way his tongue places the minty gum on your lips. You had closed your eyes. Thinking he was going to do something else.

It had made you nervous and weak all the same. You can’t help but think, as you take a few steps, your hand holding even tighter onto him, that was one of the hottest things you had ever seen.

It got better.

After a few steps he talked again. His voice sultier, deeper. His eyes somehow were darker, but still looked like they were full of adoration for you.

“Does that gum still have some taste on it?”

“Yeah, minty” You manage to say.

“Can I have some?”

This time around, it's you who grabs him. And you can feel the way he smiles at that, and the way his fingers hold your face up again to meet him. This time it’s you who gives him the gum back.

Only, you place it between your lips, and it's his tongue that gets it.

In that moment you know, you’re fucked.

And so does he.

“Honey?” He asks as he sees you pulling into his street.

The whole drive back home had been exactly like the last time. Except this time the way he would caress your leg felt hungry for your touch back, and your fingers would end up intertwined, singing the songs that came into the radio, not really paying attention, all of it focused on the way he was playing with your fingers.

“Mmmh?”

“My car keys may have been chained to my house keys.” He admits, embarrassed, as he covers his face. You can’t help but look at him and laugh a bit.

“S’okay, you can sleepover.” He nods and you change directions.

And before you know it you’re already parked, and he’s already following you inside.

That’s when it hits you.

Steve is in your room.

Steve is sleeping over in your bed.

Steve had practically kissed you.

whatthehellisgoingon

You shake your head, not wanting to read too much into things that haven’t and might never happen.

“I uh… I’m going to change.” You whisper, a bit of shame could be felt on your words, and Steve just nodded, lost in the sight that was you in your room. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I… Usually just sleep with my boxers on.” That confession made you blush and bite your lower lip as you nodded. Not really knowing what to do or say.

So you just turned around, you took off your bra, tossing it on the floor before you took off the white tank you had. You reached for your sleep shirt. An old grey shirt that was way overdue to throw away, but it was long enough and soft enough that you felt it was perfect for sleeping in. So, Steve just enjoyed the show.

He stayed there, watching the way your body moved. He was the one that had his eyebrows raised, his chest racing and his cheeks flushed. He was lost in you. And you were painfully obvious that he was looking, maybe that’s why you take a bit longer to take off your tank top before putting on the gray shirt. Maybe that's why your heart skips a beat when you hear the sound of his belt hitting the ground at the same time that his jeans did. While you took your own jeans off, he took off his shirt.

You knew you had to turn around now.

And as you did you go lost in him.

Him standing there, in nothing but his black boxers, framing all of him. Him and his chest with some hair, trailing all the way down to his waistband. That was an image you probably would never be able to forget.

He took the first step. A soft grin appears in his lips once again. As he pushes the same flock of hair behind your ear, you can't help but tilt your head into his touch. He takes another step forwards, and just looks at you, deep into your eyes. You both chuckle, nervously at the situation, and like before, he holds you. Thight. Only this time, you can feel him against your leg. It makes you press your own legs together a bit more.

Once he lets go, you slide into the bed, and he closes the lights, following you closely.

“Is it okay if you hug me?” You ask.

“Mmh.” He’s at a loss for words.

He cuddles you, feeling you closer than ever before. And one of his hands gets lost into your thigh, right where your waistband meets your skin, tracing it. Softly. It drives you insane. Steve’s breathing into your hair, and you can feel how his breathing is fastening, just as much he can feel yours, by the way your stomach goes up and down. He can’t help himself anymore. He leaves a wet kiss on your neck.

That’s all it takes.

You turn around and you know you’re fucked. You can’t hold yourself anymore. You explote.

You kiss him.

The way his lips press against yours feels like he really wanted this, maybe even as much as you did. Your body pulls him closer, and his leg finds itself tangled in between yours. He’s lost in you and the way your mouth feels. He bites your lower lip, softly. And as soon as you feel the tug a soft whimper escapes your lips. Steve melts into you even more, his legs putting pressure in that spot between your legs that is already throbbing for him. Your hands find the back of his neck, and become buried into his hair. His soft chestnut hair. His hands begin to train up, inside your shirt. Holding your waist harder than before. Another moan escapes your kiss swollen lips, and he grunts in return.

He tries to memorise you, and the way you look like now. To him, you’re a goddess fallen from the sky, and he’s the lucky one.

He climbs above you, tracing kisses down your neck, as his hands travel up, up enough to meet your breast and press down, even carefully he’s strong enough and skilled enough to pinch your nipples, making them hard. And your legs wrap around him, and you can’t quite believe just how big he’s gotten just from kissing you.

His hands take off your shirt and as soon as he looks at you he’s a goner.

“Fuck, you’re beautifull honey.” He groans. A deep voice you’ve never heard from him.

It makes you pull him closer. And he starts to move, his cock and your clit being only separated by the small fabric between you both.

“Can I-” He cuts you off as he looks up at you, stopping the trail of kisses he wanted to finish on your left breast.

“You can do anything you want to me honey”

You can’t help yourself. The wetness patch only growing on your thong. You needed him, but you were so desperate to touch him, to see him.

You flipped him around, leaving him laid on your mattress, his hands up in shock. He’s surprised by you in the best way possible.

You were the one kissing him senseless now, as you grind on top of him. HE grew harder and stiffer with every time your clit pressed against him. His hands grabbed your ass in that moment, hard and burying his fingers as deep as he could. You wasted no time kissing every beauty mark that you could see, slowly going down his stomach, his breath shortening, sucking in and groaning your name in the most delicious way you have never heard anyone say it.

Your hands found the hem of his underwear and pulled it down. He was so big. His pink tip already wet with pre-cum, and it was all because and for you. Your eyes widened with desire, you had to taste him.

So you did.

It only took a lick for Steve to shiver, and that made nothing but turn you on even more. His hand had now started to press on your clit through the fabric. It didn’t matter, it felt too good.

So, as you looked deep into his eyes, you wrapped your lips around him, and you went down.

Steve had never been more desperate, the eye contact, you and your pretty doe eyes looking at him like he was the only thing in the world.

His fingers had pushed your thong to your side, and started messing around your entrance, it wasn’t until his waist flinched forward, making you swallow him whole, that he didn’t actually finger you.

But once he did, he couldn’t stop, and neither could you.

The way you moaned, with him still inside you, the way your waist moved, letting him get more aces into you, it drove him mad, he needed you, like really needed you.

“Steve, please” You begged.

That’s all it took.

His hands took off your thong and pulled you up, he kissed you deeply, his tongue getting lost with yours. Your soft lips fit perfectly with his, and the wetness of his cock still in them.

He was above you again. Three fingers in, your legs already up, he had you prepared you enough for him to enter, but anyway, when you felt the way his cock slided into you, your walls tensed up for a second, and you both moaned as soon as you felt each other.

“God, you feel so nice honey” He whispered into your ear before biting it.

Your legs wrapped around him, tightly, and your hands were on his back, pushing him deeper. He wanted to go slow, but seeing you so helpless, so needy for him, made him pick up the pace. With every thrust, your eyes rolled deeper into your head, your muscles relaxed, and your feet were pointed.

The warmth of his skin felt so good against yours you felt as if it would never be enough, even if you wanted to scream his name, you couldn’t. Everyone was sleeping. So you did the only thing you could.

“I’ve wanted you for so long Steve '' You whispered into his ears in between thrusts. You felt how his head hangs lower after that, his back arched so he could reach even lower. And when you thought he was as deep as he could, he placed an arm behind you, reaching that place that even you couldn’t.

“So have I honey.” He admitted before kissing you, a deep, wet kiss. Followed by many more repressed moans and loud groans. “I’m all yours.”

“I’m all yours” You repeated.

He grabbed your leg and pushed it up, he was so deep now you could feel him everywhere. You were lost in him. The way his hair bounced, the way his eyes looked at you, his lips swollen because he couldn’t and wouldn’t stop kissing you.

He was a goner. And so were you.

You hadn’t come this hard in so long.

You melted into eachothers arms.

You had a silent moment, where it was all soft kisses and caresses. You couldn’t quite believe that that had just happened.

Or how good it had been.

“I meant it.” You heard him whisper, his lips pressed against your ear.

“What?”

“I’m all yours.” He repeats. Leaving a kiss in your hair. “I’ve always been.”

“I mean it too.” You let him know, your nose brushing his, your fingers tangled with his. “I’ve liked you for so long, my love.”

He laughs a bit. Maybe it was the confession he had just got out of you, maybe it was because you had just called him my love.

“God, me too.” He finally admits, a weight being pulled away from his chest. “But I thought you had a thing for Eddie.”

“And I thought you still loved-” He shuts you up with a kiss.

“We broke up because I was falling for you.” He finally admits.

You can’t stop smiling or kissing.

You don’t think you ever will.

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

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mistyshane30 · 4 months ago

Text

You Were Never Mine to Lose (Chapter 6)

Synopsis: The other night was a lot, and now here you are, at an amusement park. It’s supposed to be a distraction, but you can’t help but feel like something’s just… waiting to happen. Just not yet.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: Subtle angst, Lingering tension, Unresolved emotions

A/N: Just wanted to say a big thanks for all the awesome comments on my fic! Your support really means a lot to me. I love hearing what you think! I can’t wait for you to see what’s coming next♡

The sharp chime of the doorbell jolts you awake. Groaning, you reach for your phone, squinting at the screen as your eyes adjust to the bright light.

12:07 PM

Your heart nearly stops. Noon?!

Your notifications are a mess—17 missed calls from Jen, 10 from Wanda, and an explosion of texts from the group chat. A sinking realization hits you: you must have accidentally muted your phone last night. Not surprising, considering you tossed and turned until at least 3 AM overanalyzing every moment with Agatha yesterday.

Another impatient ring of the doorbell makes you groan. You drag yourself out of bed, feeling dizzy and a little off from the lack of sleep. You’re moving in slow motion as you head for the front door. When you open it, your friends are standing there, looking less than impressed.

Jen’s arms are crossed over her chest, a mix of concern and irritation on her face. Alice, Wanda, and Lilia are behind her, all looking like they’ve been up for hours while you’ve just barely dragged yourself out of bed. Your eyes immediately flick to Agatha, naturally.

She stands there effortlessly put together in a camel brown structured sleeveless top, black well-tailored wide-leg trousers, chunky dad sneakers, a Loewe crossbody bag, and black shades. It’s criminal how good she looks in something so simple. Your gaze lingers longer than it should before you snap back to reality.

Jen crosses her arms. “Seriously? You’re just waking up?”

Wanda huffs. “We thought you were dead.”

“You guys are so dramatic,” you mumble, stepping aside to let them in. “I accidentally muted my phone last night.”

“And?” Jen presses, still unimpressed.

You scratch the back of your head. “Overslept. I had to check work emails before bed, so I ended up sleeping late.”

Technically not a lie—you did check your emails. But the real reason? You couldn’t stop thinking about Agatha. Her lingering gazes. The way her breath hitched at the beach. The way she looked at you across the table at Nobu.

Agatha hums, arms crossed over her chest. “That’s cute. Imagine taking a vacation just to work and look like shit in the morning.”

You scoff. “Imagine going on vacation just to go from a hot tub to a sauna like you’re trying to get heatstroke.”

She smirks. “Maybe I just like being warm. Unlike you, who apparently enjoys hibernating.”

Jen pinches the bridge of her nose. “Can we not do this first thing in the afternoon? Y/N, go get ready. Now. We’re going to Pacific Park, and you have five minutes.”

You hold up a hand in surrender. “Alright, alright. Ten minutes.”

“Seven.”

“Deal.” You turn to head upstairs. “Try not to miss me while I’m gone.”

Agatha mutters under her breath. “Not possible.”

You pretend not to hear it.

Fifteen minutes later, you finally head downstairs, fully dressed and ready to go. Okay, maybe you took a little longer than planned. Sue you.

You opted for a white fitted cashmere tank top, Hermès brown tailored high-waist shorts, Dior sneakers, a YSL Lou camera bag, and a deep olive green cap. A perfect balance of casual and effortless chic.

Jen checks her watch. “Not bad. I expected worse.”

You grin. “You have so little faith in me.”

Wanda looks you up and down. “I mean, you still look like you just woke up, but at least you’re dressed.”

You roll your eyes. “Can I at least eat something before we go?”

Lilia waves a dismissive hand. “We’ll hit the McDonald’s drive-thru on the way.”

You sigh. “Fine. But if my McMuffin gets cold, someone’s paying.”

Alice smirks. “We’ll send the bill to Agatha. She’s the one who called you a hibernating bear.”

Agatha scoffs, tilting her head at you. “Only because it’s true.”

You roll your eyes and grab your bag. “Let’s go before I actually commit a crime today.”

As you step out of the villa, the sun warming your skin as you make your way to the main entrance of the resort. The van is parked just a little ahead, waiting for you and the others. You’re the first one to get inside, claiming the back seat behind the driver. You sit down and pull out your phone, scrolling through social media to distract yourself from the anticipation of what’s ahead.

Agatha slides in beside you a few moments later, as effortlessly composed as ever. She flashes you a smile, one that’s way too confident for your liking. You return the smile, but there’s something about it that feels a little too forced. You quickly avert your gaze, focusing on your phone like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

Wanda sits down beside Agatha, followed by the others, and the van slowly pulls off. The hum of the road is calming at first, but you can still feel Agatha’s presence beside you like an electric current you’re trying to ignore. You scroll through your feed, hoping to lose yourself in the digital noise.

After about 45 minutes, you start to spot the signs of the amusement park from the van window—ferris wheels, roller coasters, the blur of bright colors that instantly reminds you of childhood summers. The excitement in the air is palpable, and soon, the van pulls up to the entrance. You step out into the warm air, your stomach doing a little flip at the thought of all the rides.

Jen heads straight for the ticket booth and returns with wristbands. She hands them out to everyone—Unlimited Ride Wristbands. You stare at the plastic band in your hand, already dreading the rides ahead.

Jen claps her hands together. “Alright, let’s get a photo first! You guys need to remember this moment.”

You all gather together, everyone flashing smiles as Jen takes the photo. You try to smile, but something about the whole thing feels a little off. Maybe it’s the weight of the rides you know are coming.

Alice, always the one to jump into the action, suggests the West Coaster as the first ride.

Your heart drops at the mention of it. “How about we start easy? There’s the Sig EV Alert. It’s a little more chill, right?” You try to sound casual, but your stomach churns at the thought of a big roller coaster. You know yourself, dizziness is your worst enemy.

Agatha shoots you a sideways glance, her lips curling into a smirk. “Oh, come on. What’s the matter? Are you scared?”

You roll your eyes, trying to brush off the feeling of nerves creeping up on you. “I’m not scared, Agatha. Just think it’s better to ease into things.”

She leans back with a challenge in her eyes. “Really? A vote’s been called, then.”

The group eagerly agrees to start with the West Coaster, and you immediately regret your attempt to steer them away from it. You tell yourself you can handle it, though—you’re fine, you repeat like a mantra, even though you know it’s a lie.

As you approach the roller coaster, Wanda nudges your elbow gently. “Hey,” she says softly, leaning in close. “Are you sure you want to do this? You know you get dizzy easily.”

You force a smile. “I’m fine, Wanda. Really.”

She doesn’t look convinced, her brow furrowing. “You can sit this one out. No shame in that.”

But you shake your head, refusing to back down. “No way. I’m not letting Agatha think I’m backing out. I can handle it.”

Wanda sighs, her concern still clear. “Alright, but if you pass out halfway, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You give her a small smile and step forward with the group. But just as you’re about to sit down, something happens—you realize Agatha is sitting right next to you. Your stomach twists again.

Her smirk is almost too much to handle. “I’m gonna enjoy this,” she murmurs, low enough for only you to hear.

You roll your eyes but try to play it cool. “We’ll see about that.”

The ride begins its slow ascent, the familiar clicking noise echoing through the air. You feel every inch of the climb, your heart thumping in your chest as the coaster makes its way higher. For a brief moment, everything is calm. Too calm. It’s the kind of calm that makes you realize just how much you don’t want to be here. You grip the safety bar tightly, knuckles turning white, your palms sweating against the cool metal.

Your stomach flips, and you feel the weight of the height sinking in. You glance over at Agatha, sitting beside you with her usual cool, confident demeanor. She seems completely unfazed, her eyes glinting with something like amusement. You swallow hard, trying to keep your cool. This was your idea, right? You had to prove you weren’t scared.

Then, the coaster pauses at the peak—that peak—the one where it feels like you’re teetering on the edge of the world. Everything below looks so far away, a blur of colors and tiny dots that might be people, but you can’t focus on that. The world seems to hold its breath, and so do you.

Then—BAM!

The coaster shoots forward with sudden, brutal speed, your stomach dropping out from under you. You don’t even have time to prepare before the wind rushes through your hair, and the shrill scream that escapes your throat is one you didn’t even know you had in you. Your hands instinctively shoot out to grab onto anything, everything.

Your fingers latch onto something warm, soft, and surprisingly firm. You don’t realize what you’ve done at first. Your brain is too busy trying to process the chaos around you, the twisting and jerking of the ride, the air rushing by in a constant scream of its own. Your eyes squeeze shut for a moment as the coaster dips and turns, the ride's movements jarring, sending your stomach into an endless loop of flips.

Oh God, what have I done? Why did I agree to this?

The twists and turns keep coming, faster, harsher, as the ride whips you through the air. Your scream isn’t just fun now; it’s a primal, terrified sound. It feels like you’re falling forever, your body jerking this way and that. You feel the pressure in your chest, your breath coming out in shallow bursts, but through it all, your hand is still clenched around whatever is in front of you.

That “whatever” is Agatha’s hand.

It’s only when the coaster starts to slow down that you realize what’s happened. Your hand, still gripping Agatha’s, is now nearly crushed in your panic. Your face flushes red as you snap your eyes open, trying to catch your breath, the noise of the ride dying down around you. You feel disoriented—nauseous, even—and your heart is still racing.

The ride finally halts, and your body slumps against the backrest, drenched in sweat. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, your skin clammy and cold, your breath coming in gasps. You’re still dazed, but you suddenly become acutely aware of the hand you’re holding. You jerk your hand away from Agatha’s, mortified, hoping no one noticed the unintentional closeness you shared.

You glance around quickly. Everyone else is laughing and talking excitedly, their voices a blur. They didn’t notice. Thank God.

Except Agatha. She saw. Of course, she did.

Her lips curl into that sly smirk, the one that makes you want to crawl under a rock. She looks over at you, that gleam of recognition in her eyes. “You look a little green there, Y/N,” she teases, her voice dripping with amusement. “Roller coasters not your thing?”

You want to disappear. The heat creeping up your neck is nearly unbearable. You manage to cough out a nonchalant response, your voice a little higher than normal. “It was fine. Totally fine.” But even you can hear the lie in it.

You don’t meet her gaze. You can’t. The thought of her knowing what just happened—of her knowing you—it’s too much.

The group continues to tease you, laughing and poking fun at your reaction. You try to laugh along, but it comes out flat, forced. You wish you could just blend into the background, escape the spotlight that feels like it’s shining just a little too bright on you.

Wanda, however, seems to sense that something’s wrong. She quietly steps up beside you, her voice low and concerned. “Y/N, are you sure you’re okay?” She looks at you with an almost protective gaze. “Like, really okay?”

You manage a weak smile, brushing off her worry like it’s nothing. “I’m great. Totally great. Really.” You try to sound convincing, but Wanda doesn’t look entirely convinced.

She doesn’t push further, though. Instead, she just pats your shoulder lightly and nods, though you can see she’s not buying your act. The others are still bickering amongst themselves about the next ride, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

You don’t know how you make it through the rest of the day. You feel like you’re walking in a fog, each ride making your stomach churn more than the last. You’re so dizzy you could swear you’re going to pass out. But you keep pushing through it, knowing Agatha’s eyes are always on you, even when you try not to meet her gaze.

Finally, you find a little relief on the Sig EV Alert ride. It’s simple. Fun, even. It’s a bumper car ride, something you can do without fear of your stomach trying to escape your body. It’s a tiny break in the chaos, but as you steer your bumper car, you can’t stop yourself from looking at her, and just like that, she catches you. Her eyes twinkle with amusement as she leans forward in her seat, an eyebrow arched in challenge. “What’s the matter, Y/N? I didn’t think bumper cars were so interesting.”

Your heart thuds in your chest again, and you force yourself to look away, cheeks flushed. “It’s not,” you reply, but the corner of your mouth betrays you with a tiny, involuntary smile.

After all the rides, your group decides to grab something to eat at Smashie’s Burger. You take the chance to slip away to the bathroom, needing a moment to catch your breath after all the chaos. You wash your face, trying to shake off the dizziness from the rides. You’re not sure if you’re more worn out from the rides or from trying to act like everything's fine in front of everyone.

When you come back to the table, everyone’s chatting and laughing, already a little more energized from the food. You slide in, a little quieter than usual, and take your seat. Your eyes drift to Agatha—she’s got her phone in hand, typing something, looking all serious. You wonder for a second if she’s texting Ralph or maybe dealing with some work stuff. Either way, you can’t help but watch her. It’s like she’s in a world of her own, and it pulls you in even though you’re trying to look away.

You start eating, trying to pretend like everything’s normal. It’s harder than it should be, but you make yourself focus on the food, even as you keep stealing glances at her. Her phone goes down, and she finally takes a bite of her burger. There’s something about the way she eats—so casually, so effortlessly—that makes you feel like you're standing just a bit too close to something you’re not sure how to handle.

Before long, Jen’s done with her fries and is already looking around with that excited energy of hers. “Okay, who’s ready for the next round?” she asks, clearly buzzing.

Wanda’s practically bouncing in her seat. “I’m heading to the Cat Rack. I need to win a stuffed animal.”

Alice’s grinning, not to be outdone. “I’m hitting the Ring Toss. I’m definitely gonna win this time.”

The group starts breaking up, everyone heading off in different directions. You’re left with Agatha, and for a split second, the silence feels a little too loud between you two. You can’t tell if it’s awkward or just... weird, but you feel it.

You clear your throat, trying to make the best of it. “So... where do you want to go?”

And, of course, you both speak at the same time. “Where do you want to go?”

You both freeze for a moment, then laugh, but it’s not the easiest laugh. It’s more like you're both trying to fill the space that’s been left hanging. You smile, trying to ease the tension.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to—”

Agatha shakes her head, cutting you off. “It’s fine. I was thinking Water Race. Let’s do that.”

You give her a look. “Water Race? Really?”

“Really,” she says with that grin you know is always a little too knowing. “I wanna see if you’re as good at this as you say you are.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smirk that pulls at your lips. “Oh, I’m great at it. Just wait and see.”

You pay for both of you, the two of you standing side by side, staring down at the game ahead. You tell yourself it’s just a game, but the competition is starting to feel a little more intense than it should. Agatha’s in the lane next to you, her water gun aimed perfectly, and you know this is it. Time to prove you’re better.

The game starts, and the water blasts out from the guns, splashing against the targets. You’re both giving it your all, but after a few rounds, you realize it’s not just the two of you in this race. There are other players too. And none of you are winning.

You try to stay casual, hiding the irritation that’s slowly creeping up on you. You keep buying new entries, trying to beat the other players, but every time, someone else wins. The frustration builds, and despite how much you want to pretend it doesn’t bother you, it does. It really does.

Agatha notices. “You okay there?” she teases, her voice light but that hint of amusement in her eyes.

You force a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just warming up.”

But after another round, when you lose again, you can’t hold back the annoyance anymore. You feel it in your chest, tight and heavy, and you can’t shake it. The other player keeps winning, and you just want to win something. Anything.

Finally, after what feels like a hundred tries, it happens. You hit the target, and the bell rings, signaling that you’ve won. You almost can’t believe it, the rush of victory flooding you as you hold the water gun in triumph. Your heart’s pounding, but there’s something about it that feels better than all the other wins you’ve seen.

The prize is a stuffed bunny. It’s not the biggest or most impressive thing, but to you, it’s everything. You hold it up in the air, your face lighting up in the purest, most unfiltered joy.

Agatha’s standing next to you, eyes wide with surprise at how over the top your reaction is. “Really? That’s how excited you are about a stuffed bunny?”

You can’t stop grinning, bouncing on your feet. “I won! I really won! This is the best thing ever!”

You hold the bunny to your chest like it’s the greatest prize you’ve ever gotten. It’s ridiculous, but it feels like you’ve just won the lottery, and for once, you don’t care how silly it looks.

Agatha snorts, clearly amused. “You’re kind of ridiculous, you know that?”

You just shrug, still holding your prize. “I don’t care.”

She shakes her head, smiling despite herself. “Alright, alright. You win. I won’t argue with you and your little bunny.”

You stand there for a second, still buzzing from the win, when you glance at Agatha again. She’s looking at you in that quiet, knowing way, like she’s seeing you in a way she hasn’t before. For a brief moment, everything feels lighter, like maybe, just maybe, there’s something else here between you two.

After your victory at the Water Race, you’re still holding your prize, that stupidly adorable bunny stuffed toy, when the mystery player who had kept winning approaches you. She has a confident smile on her face, and there’s something about her that catches your attention. Maybe it’s the way she walks up to you without hesitation, or how she looks like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Hey,” she says, her voice smooth and warm. “That was some impressive shooting. No one’s ever beaten me at this game before.”

You glance at her in surprise, a little thrown off by the compliment. “Thanks,” you reply, trying to keep your cool, but there’s a flutter of nerves in your stomach.

She grins, her gaze lingering on you just a bit too long. “I’m Rio Vidal, by the way,” she adds, extending her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

You shake her hand, still feeling a bit off balance. “I’m Y/N, and this is Agatha.”

Agatha, standing nearby, doesn’t seem to react much, but you can feel her attention shift, just slightly. Rio doesn’t seem to notice. She’s too busy smiling at you, her eyes sparkling with something that feels... too intentional.

“So,” Rio continues, her tone teasing, “What brings you to the Water Race? You definitely look like a woman who’s up for a challenge.” She leans a little closer, voice lowering in a way that makes you blink in surprise. “I like that.”

You catch yourself before you do something weird, like laugh too loud or look confused. Instead, you go with it. “Well, I’m actually on a bachelorette vacation with my friends,” you say with a playful shrug. “It’s all about letting loose and having some fun.”

Rio raises an eyebrow. “A bachelorette? That’s interesting... you’re clearly not shy about winning.” She holds out a business card. “If your friend is still looking for flowers for her wedding, I’m your girl. I’m a florist, you know. I’d be happy to help out.”

You take the card from her, half-smiling. “I’ll let her know. Thanks, Rio.”

She lingers a little longer, her eyes not leaving you. “No problem. It was nice meeting you... maybe I’ll see you around, yeah?”

You’re pretty sure she means something more than just “seeing you around,” but you just smile and nod. “For sure. Take care.”

As she walks away, you glance at Agatha, who’s giving you a look that’s almost... incredulous. “What the hell was that?” she asks, her voice thick with something you can’t quite pinpoint.

You give her a confused look. “What do you mean?”

Agatha huffs, crossing her arms, still staring at you. “That lady was literally flirting with you.”

You shrug, trying to act like it’s no big deal, even though a little part of you feels flustered. “Nah. She’s just being friendly. Nothing more to it.”

Before Agatha can respond, you quickly hold out the stuffed bunny toy you just won. You catch Agatha off guard with it, her eyes widening for a second as she stares at the toy in your hands.

She looks at you, confused. “What’s this for?”

You try to keep it casual, but your heart’s thumping in your chest. “You can have it,” you say, your voice casual even though the butterflies are going wild in your stomach. “I’m not really into stuffed toys. I just liked the idea of winning. You can take it home with you, though. Maybe give it to your kids after the trip.”

Agatha blinks, clearly taken aback by your sudden generosity. “You... want me to take it?”

You nod, trying not to let the heat on your cheeks show. “Yeah. I mean, I’m not really gonna keep it. And I figure you could use it.”

She looks at the bunny again, then back at you. For a moment, there’s this unreadable look in her eyes, and for a second, you think she might turn it down. But then, she sighs and takes the bunny from your hands.

“Thanks,” she says softly, her tone warmer than you expected. “I’ll... keep it safe.”

You smile at her, feeling the rush of your little exchange with Rio slowly fade away, replaced by this new, quieter moment with Agatha. As much as you try to convince yourself it’s no big deal, something about the way she accepts the bunny... it feels a little more personal than it should. And for once, you’re okay with that.

You and Agatha were lost in the competitive spirit of the games, going from Whac-A-Mole to Balloon Bust to Roll-A-Ball, each one more ridiculous than the last. Neither of you were willing to back down, constantly teasing each other over every small win and every tiny defeat. The laughter and playful banter between you two felt natural, easy... but it wasn’t until you realized the sun was starting to set that you looked around and noticed how dark it had gotten.

"Whoa," you muttered, glancing at your phone. "It’s already six?"

Agatha glanced up, eyebrow raised. "Guess we’ve been here longer than we thought."

You shrugged, your competitive streak still burning. "Well, I’m not done yet."

"Maybe I’m done." Agatha smirked, a mischievous glint in her eyes, but you could tell she wasn’t serious.

"Alright, break time," you said, stretching your arms out. "Pretzels. I’m starving."

You headed to Wetzel’s Pretzels, the smell of warm dough and salt filling the air. As you placed your order and grabbed the food, you got a text from the group chat.

Jen: Meet us at the Pacific Wheel when you’re done!

Taking the pretzel and frozen lemonade, you turned to look around for Agatha, but she wasn’t there. Confused, you glanced over the park, but she was nowhere to be found. You started walking around, trying to find her amidst the crowd. Finally, you spotted her in the quieter part of the park, her back turned toward you. She was on the phone, and her voice was sharp, like she was holding something back.

Your steps slowed, and you stopped a few feet away, not wanting to intrude. But you heard it. The tension in her voice, the way it wavered when she spoke.

“I can’t keep doing this, Ralph.” Her words were clipped, cold, and there was something raw underneath them that made you pause, your heart sinking.

She didn’t notice you at first, so you lingered quietly, unsure if you should stay or leave. It didn’t feel right, intruding on whatever this was. From the bits and pieces of her conversation, you pieced together that whatever she was dealing with—whatever was going on between her and Ralph—was more serious than you expected.

The call ended abruptly, and Agatha’s shoulders tensed, her hand slipping to her side as she hung up, visibly angry. She didn’t turn around right away, but when she did, her eyes met yours—frozen, wide, like a deer caught in headlights.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could find the words, you cleared your throat awkwardly, pretending you hadn’t overheard anything. “The group is at the Pacific Wheel,” you said lightly, your voice casual, even though your heart was pounding. “Jen texted in the group chat.”

Agatha stared at you for a beat longer than necessary, her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t comment on the phone call. Instead, she sighed, walking toward you. You handed her the pretzel and frozen lemonade. She took them wordlessly, her fingers brushing yours for just a second.

The two of you walked in silence, the air between you thick with unsaid things. You could feel the tension radiating from Agatha, the way her usual confidence had shrunk a little, replaced by something... quieter. You wanted to ask her if she was okay, but every time you opened your mouth, the words felt wrong.

When you finally reached the group by the Pacific Wheel, they immediately teased you both, noticing the awkward atmosphere.

"Look at you two," Jen grinned, winking at you. "Looks like you’re back to your old bickering."

But you didn’t hear her. Agatha hadn’t smiled in hours, not since that phone call. She was quieter than usual, her sharp edges dulled by something you couldn’t touch, something heavy weighing her down. You could tell it wasn’t just the usual gruffness, this was something different. The way she seemed distant, as if she were carrying an invisible burden. It was the same look you’d seen before, back when she thought she could keep everything together, even if her world was on fire.

You opened your mouth to say something, to ask if she was okay... but Jen beat you to it.

“Alright, we all need to ride the Pacific Wheel now,” she announced, grinning. “It’s the last ride for tonight.”

Agatha barely even glanced up. “Pass,” she said flatly, a tiredness in her tone that wasn’t usual for her.

“You’re on vacation, Governor,” Lilia teased, emphasizing the title just to see her roll her eyes. “One last ride won’t kill you.”

Jennifer caught on and nudged Agatha toward the line. “Yeah, come on. This’ll be the last ride of the night. Just do it for the fun of it.”

Agatha didn’t have a choice anymore. She was trapped.

The group made their way to the gondola, Jen and Wanda taking the first one. Then Agatha climbed into the second gondola, and without thinking, you sat beside her. She didn’t even try to protest—just gave you a look, her eyes soft and a little tired, but she didn’t say anything. You could feel the weight of her silence next to you.

The gondola slowly began to ascend, the lights of the amusement park flickering below, casting a soft glow on the quiet faces around you. But the stillness between you and Agatha felt louder than the sounds of the park.

The ferris wheel spun gently, and for a moment, you thought about reaching out to her—asking if she was okay, if she wanted to talk. But she was already looking ahead, her eyes fixed on the horizon. It was clear she wasn’t ready to talk.

The quiet stretched on, thick and heavy, as you watched the city lights twinkle below. You couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever Agatha was dealing with... it was more than just a phone call. More than just a bad moment. But for now, all you could do was sit there beside her, the awkward silence wrapping around you both like a heavy cloak.

The gondola rocks gently as the Pacific Wheel lifts you both higher, the amusement park shrinking below. Neon lights flicker across Agatha’s face, reflecting in her stormy blue eyes. The silence is thick, heavier than the humid air, but you’re the one who finally breaks it.

"Wanna talk about it?" Your voice is quiet, unintrusive. You’re not pushing, but the door is open if she wants to walk through it.

Agatha doesn’t respond right away. She exhales slowly, eyes fixed on the horizon, and when she finally speaks, her voice is measured. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough." You don’t elaborate. You don’t need to.

Another beat of silence. Agatha’s fingers drum against the metal bar in front of her, and when she finally looks at you, her expression is guarded, like she’s waiting for a hit to land.

"You’re gonna scold me, aren’t you? Tease me? Tell me how I should’ve seen this coming? Go ahead, get it over with."

It’s defensive, a preemptive strike. The kind of thing she says when she’s bracing for a fight. When she wants to keep you at arm’s length. But you don’t take the bait.

Instead, you just look at her—really look at her. And when you speak, it’s only one word, "No."

Agatha stills. Maybe she expected you to gloat, to mock, to treat this like another battle in your endless war of words. But you don’t. And that makes her pause.

You soften, let your voice dip into something almost gentle. "I just think... you deserve better than this."

Then, without thinking too much about it, you reach out, fingers brushing against hers. It’s not a grand gesture, just a quiet reassurance. But Agatha, who has spent years pretending she doesn’t need anyone, doesn’t pull away.

She looks away instead, scoffing like she can deflect the weight of this moment. "God, you’re such a sap."

But the bite isn’t there. And for the first time, you see it—that flicker of doubt, the crack in the foundation she’s built so carefully around herself.

The Ferris wheel slows at the top, leaving you both suspended in midair. Agatha exhales, tipping her head back against the cool metal.

"It’s Ralph," she admits finally. "He’s... not doing well. And I’m the one keeping everything together." Her voice is bitter, laced with exhaustion. "I work my ass off, and he just—he doesn’t even try anymore. And I don’t have time to fix him."

You don’t say anything right away. You don’t mock. You don’t lecture. You just watch her carefully before offering something she doesn’t expect, "That sounds exhausting."

Agatha tenses at first, then exhales shakily. No one has ever acknowledged that before.

The Ferris wheel lurches, the descent beginning.

You lean in slightly, tilting your head. "So... are you gonna keep pretending everything’s fine?"

Agatha lets out a dry laugh, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "Of course. It’s what I do."

You shake your head, smirking a little. "Classic Agatha Harkness."

There’s a beat. And then, unexpectedly, she teases back. The words are soft, almost... fond.

"Shut up."

You only grin, but there’s something lingering between you both now—something unspoken, something fragile.

The Ferris wheel reaches the bottom. The moment is over.

As you step off together, you murmur, "You should tell them. The others. They’d understand."

Agatha scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You give them too much credit."

You shrug. "Or maybe you don’t give them enough."

That makes her pause. She turns to you fully then, studying you in a way that makes your chest feel tight.

"And you?" Her voice is quieter now, layered with something deeper. "Do you understand?"

You swallow. There’s something vulnerable beneath her usual sarcasm, something you’re not sure what to do with.

"I’m trying to," you admit.

For a second, it looks like she might say something else. But before she can, the moment is gone.

Agatha exhales sharply, straightening like she’s shaking something off. Then, without another word, running a hand through her hair, then moves toward where the group has gathered. You follow, watching as she exhales and schools her face back into something neutral.

Then she smirks, sliding back into her usual armor. "Well, if this was your way of trying to comfort me, you’re terrible at it."

You roll your eyes, falling into step beside her. "And yet, you didn’t push me away."

She glances at you from the corner of her eye. "Maybe I’m slipping."

Maybe she was.

Or maybe—just maybe—she was finally letting you in.

The group gathers for a final photo of the night, all smiling. Just as the camera clicks, fireworks explode behind you, painting the sky in golds and blues.

Agatha is standing beside you. And for the first time in forever, she feels a little lighter.

You feel her gaze linger longer than it should. But when you glance her way, she looks away fast, pretending she wasn’t staring at all.

You pretend you don’t notice.

And then, just like that, the night is over.

You all head back to the resort, splitting off into your separate villas. But even as you close the door behind you, the weight of the night lingers, something unspoken settling deep in your chest.

Agatha Harkness is slipping.

And maybe... so are you.

Taglist:@6stolenangel9 @charlottelinlin1 @milflovers4 @claramelooo @loveshineslikethesky @kaymariesworld @marcelinaceciliarose @misskassycollins @greyella @theothersideofthescreen @whitelotus00 @agathaallalongg @psychickryptonitebouquet @sweetmidnights @angel-kitten-babygirl-u-choose @filmedbyharkness @brekker157 @rizzlesregal13 @starbucks-06

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha x reader #agatha x you #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness #YouWereNeverMinetoLose #agatha harkness smut

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reiderwriter · 2 years ago

Text

Unhappy Holidays

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).

Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆

Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.

Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.

If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.

It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.

Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.

A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.

He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.

Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.

The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.

“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”

“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”

“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”

You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.

He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.

Your resentment still burned though.

Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.

You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.

The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.

After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.

You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.

In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.

The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.

Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.

“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.

“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.

“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”

“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”

He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.

The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.

Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.

Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.

Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.

It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.

You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.

“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.

Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.

A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.

As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.

Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.

You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.

By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.

Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.

The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.

Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.

“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.

So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.

With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.

“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.

“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”

“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.

But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.

“You're sure he won't be there?”

“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”

“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”

“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”

“Done.”

–X–

Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.

You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.

“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.

“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.

“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.

“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.

“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”

You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.

“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”

“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.

“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.

“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”

You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.

“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.

Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.

“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.

“I was invited.”

“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”

“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.

You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.

“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.

“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.

Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.

“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”

“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.

“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”

“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.

“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.

“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”

“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”

“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”

He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.

“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.

“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.

You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.

His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.

He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.

He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.

“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”

“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”

“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.

“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.

“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”

Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.

He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.

“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.

“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.

“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.

It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.

He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.

“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”

“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.

He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Liar.”

His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.

“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”

“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.

There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.

You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.

It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.

“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.

“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.

“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”

You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.

You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.

Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.

You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.

You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.

It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.

“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.

“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.

Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.

“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.

“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”

He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.

He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.

“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”

He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.

The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.

His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.

The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.

“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.

“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”

“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”

“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”

He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.

“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”

“Fuck. Why?”

“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”

You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.

He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.

“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”

“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”

“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.

“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.

“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”

“You just know how to piss them off?”

“Morgan says it comes naturally.”

“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”

A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.

“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.

“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”

“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.

“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.

“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”

He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.

“Oh my god you're an idiot.”

“When you're around, yes.”

“And that means I'm equally stupid.”

“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.

“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”

“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”

He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #criminal minds smut #cm writing challenge

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lieutnt · 2 years ago

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Omega!141 who you know can very easily stick up for themselves but it doesn’t stop anger flaring in your chest when you end up having to rest at another base and you hear the hushed comments being muttered around base about an omega task force.

The straw that breaks the camel's back is when you all sit in the cafeteria to eat and a soldier loudly on purpose jokes about the 141 being “a waste of good omegas.”

The room falls silent when your chair screeches as you charge the soldier and fist his shirt in your hand, pulling him close to snarl in his face, “They’re still your superior officers and I expect you to remember that, soldier.” The smell of angry alpha filters into the air and the soldier’s eyes go wide, attempting to pull back and shrink into himself.

“Y-yes sir,” he stutters, falling back onto his arse when you suddenly release him. You leave him on the floor as you walk back to your table, ignoring the shocked looks on everyone’s faces and the hidden grins of the 141 as you continue eating as if nothing had happened. Gradually the atmosphere begins to pick back up, and the 141 don’t hear another comment during their time on base.

The other soldiers don’t need to know that as soon as you're back on home base and all your gear is packed away the 141 are gathered in your room taking turns riding you, rewarding you for being their loyal alpha.

#task force 141 #task force 141 x male reader #male reader #omegaverse #call of duty #lieutnts drabbles #lieutnts writing #idk what to tag this

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dorkus-mcdingus · 5 months ago

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A Dance with The Dragon Prince: An OB!Malleus Thought

There's some book 7 mentions so you've been warned!

Enjoy the little thought piece! 😉

From what I can remember, they say that one shouldn't accept a dance with a fae because it could bring about your demise or entrap you in its spell.

Imagine inviting OB!Malleus for a dance but he could see the amount of anger, sadness, and sheer disappointment in your eyes. This should remind you both of all of the happy memories but that fear of never waking up again has tainted your view of him.

Was the man you playfully called Hornton/Tsunotarou a lie? Was everything about him just a ruse? You wished he could be set free but not like this! Not when he could potentially make everyone on Sage's Island die of starvation or thirst or at worst, make them endure 1000 years of never seeing their family and friends again except in a false reality.

You want to wake him up but you're so consumed by your anger towards him that by the time you lead the dance, he knows.

The one friend he's made throughout his school life is disappointed in him. Lilia was one of the people he ABSOLUTELY couldn't lose but same could go with a lot of people here including yourself. Although, Silver's tears was the straw that broke the camel's back, your idea of finding a way to stop the ache of departure was what sparked it! WHY DO YOU WANT TO DESTROY IT?! WHY DO YOU WANT TO BETRAY HIM JUST LIKE SILVER AND SEBEK?!

As Rook would describe it if he were to witness it,

"Such agony, such sweet pain and heartache! The sheer amount of passion they hold! Betrayal has never looked so sweet and heart-wrenching! Quelle beauté!"

Now personally because I think this dance suits this sort of tension, I would imagine a tango would suit this encounter. You both are trying to study each other's faces, what thoughts are racing through your heads, but the fact that your anger, your disgust, never left your face even as you dance with him, his beloved child of man, his dearest friend has left him at the table, storming out...

Not you... OH GREAT SEVEN NOT YOU TOO! LILIA ABANDONING HIM WAS ALREADY BAD ENOUGH BUT HE CAN'T LOSE YOU TOO! SMILE AT HIM AGAIN LIKE WHAT YOU USED TO! PLEASE SMILE! WHY WON'T YOU SMILE AT HIM?!

By the time the dance ends, you're both heaving but no... You're not smiling at him! This was done not just to protect Lilia but also you and all of the companions you hold so dear! WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT?! WHY WON'T YOU SMILE AT HIM?!

But even then, one thing you had to admit is that he always was enchanting on the dancefloor. Even though he's committing such a selfish act out of pain, your heart aches the more you look at this pitiful prince.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twst thoughts #diasomnia #malleus draconia #malleus x oc #malleus x reader

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bumblesimagines · 2 months ago

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Love Me Not (Love Me)

Request: Yes or No

Summary: With young adulthood hitting him like a truck, Sukuna decides to move in with the cousin of a friend and finds his world promptly turned on its axis.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Modern/No Curse AU, Sukuna's shit at feelings, ooc behavior still getting the hang of writing for these characters, Sukuna is an Itadori, the Zenins are their own warning, mentioned SatoSugu

Written with this fanart in mind ngl

~~~

Sukuna knew the day would come when he'd have to move out of his brother's house and find a place of his own, he just hadn't expected the day to come so quickly. In Jin and Kaori's defense, they hadn't outright told him to get out, but Sukuna caught the subtle hints after the constant talks of needing more space for their little growing boy.

He lamented having to find his own place. The housing market was a mess, and no matter how many times Jin insisted on helping him financially, Sukuna refused to accept his money. He spent his time searching for apartments, houses, townhomes, anything cheap but good enough for him, and turned his nose up at everything he came across.

It wasn't until Toji mentioned one of his cousins had recently moved out and was looking for a roommate that his luck turned around. A Zenin was the last kind of person Sukuna wanted to room with (he considered most of them to be spoiled and annoying, including Toji), but Jin and Kaori's excitement for him left him begrudgingly reaching out to get everything sorted.

Almost a month later, he was moving the few belongings he owned into an apartment far out of his tax bracket. The Itadoris were well-off in the way money wasn't high on their list of worries, but there was a hefty difference between comfortable and drowning in money.

The entry hall looked right out of a magazine with its tall white walls and small wooden entry table pressed against one wall. There was a bowl of pretty colored pebbles in the center with keys beside it and a stick of incense that'd gone out a while ago. It almost felt wrong to stand there, filling the peaceful space with his presence.

Toji snickered at his startled expression, the boy at his hip jutting out his lips in a pout when his little body bounced with his father's amusement. "You owe me big time, 'Kuna." He grinned lazily, one muscular arm hoisting Megumi further up his waist until he was more secure.

(Y/N) Zenin stood by the low, camel-toned coffee table, a remote in one hand as he seemingly searched for a film to put on in the background. His head tilted toward them when the door rattled shut, and a large, welcoming smile spread along his mouth at the sight of them. It was sweet, too sweet.

Sukuna braced himself when (Y/N) strolled over, waiting for some kind of passive-aggressive comment or judgmental stare that was typical of a Zenin, but (Y/N) swooped in to peck the side of Megumi's head in greeting and then simply scooped the box from Sukuna's hands. It was filled with little things; rolled up posters at the top and old, sentimental trinkets he'd collected over the years sitting below them.

"Nice to meet you. Toji's told me a lot 'bout you." Sukuna spared Toji a suspicious glance, but the man shrugged innocently in return. "Come, come, I'll give you a tour."

Semi-reluctantly, Sukuna followed him through the apartment, wordlessly nodding along as he showed him around the living room and showed off the shiny, brand new kitchen appliances before taking him down a hallway brightly lit by the floor-to-ceiling window at the end. A curtain fell gracefully over it, sheer enough for sunlight to peek through the fabric while managing to keep the sun from blinding them. It offered a decent view out into the bustling street below.

"This is the guest bathroom." (Y/N) tapped the first door they came across with the side of his foot and peered over his shoulder at him with a sheepish smile. "Technically, it's your bathroom, too, since my room is the master. Sorry 'bout that."

"It's fine," Sukuna muttered, his eyes gliding over some framed photos hanging from the walls.

There were strangers in most of them, some faces with features he recognized on (Y/N) or Toji that left him assuming they were family photos. Most of them looked... odd. Forced. Especially the ones meant to look more candid. The smiles were too strained, the eyes too tired or annoyed, the poses too perfect to have been randomly snapped in the moment.

Toji and his little family were missing in all of them, apart from a singular portrait taken at his wedding, an event the whole family, aside from a select few, willingly avoided. Assholes. All of them.

"You can add your own, if you want," (Y/N) mentioned, one shoulder rising and falling. "There's more than enough space."

The second door was to their left, one (Y/N) nudged open with his shoulder and stepped inside. The room was spacious, just a few feet bigger than the bedroom he'd lived in for most of his life. The little furniture he owned had already been set up by an insistent Jin, leaving him to deal with decorating and deciding where the rest of his belongings should go. The walls were taller than he liked, but they were painted black, matching his gaming chair and the ottoman Kaori had gifted him, which had been pressed up against the foot of the bed.

"I was going to paint the walls a different color, but Toji mentioned you, uhm, quote-unquote were 'into edgy shit' so I left them the way they were. You can paint them a different color, if you want." (Y/N) spoke as he walked further into the room and carefully set the box on his table to be opened later.

Sukuna's brows furrowed. "Isn't that somethin' the landlord will bitch about?"

"Oh, the landlord's an old family friend." Sukuna should've seen that one coming. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead nodded his head. "As long as you don't damage 'em, you should be fine. You can hang up paintings, portraits, posters, whatever, just try not to put a hole in one, and he won't care."

Alright, maybe better than he'd been expecting. Toji had talked his ear off about landlords and the pain of renting a place enough times to fill his gut with dread, but maybe having a rich little roommate came more in handy than he thought. His lips almost quirked at the thought, his eyes drifting away from the walls to focus on (Y/N) as he cut through the tape of the box for him and then left it alone.

There were no apparent logos on his clothes, nothing that looked vaguely like Gucci or Brioni, but he heavily doubted (Y/N) didn't have any clothes from luxury brands. He had the look of someone who'd never had to lift a finger for anything, let alone shop at typical stores like everyone else. The Zenins were wealthy enough to shop exclusively at places like Hermès and Prada.

His mouth puckered. His need for a roommate wasn't adding up, now that he considered it.

"Do you even pay rent here?" Sukuna asked abruptly, his voice holding a sharper tone than he realized.

"Duh." (Y/N) scoffed lightly, his hands sliding into the pockets of his pants as he made his way back over to him. "I can cover the full rent, if I wanted, but... I-" (Y/N)'s lips drew into a sheepish line, his eyes flickering away from Sukuna briefly. "I dunno. I don't like living alone, so I thought I'd get a roommate."

"Getting a dog didn't cross your mind, sunshine?" Sukuna tilted his head, resting it against the doorframe along with the rest of his body. "Hell, a cat woulda done the job, don't you think?"

(Y/N) huffed, evidently a little flustered. Sukuna couldn't help the grin. "Pets aren't people. What, you want me to kick you out and go get a dog to take your place?"

"You wouldn't dare." Sukuna squinted at him playfully, one canine digging into his bottom lip. "You're too sweet for that. It's what Toji says, anyway."

"You really wanna try me, baby?"

A beat of silence. Sukuna stared at him, his brows semi-raised and his lips parted just a smidge. A hint of heat pricked at his tan cheeks, subtle enough for him to dismiss, but the heat that jabbed at his lower gut like a knife was too intense to ignore. Nicknames and pet names had little effect on him, especially when they came from borderline strangers. He'd been called everything from darling and honey to asshole and good-for-nothing by the various girls (and occasionally, guys) he fooled around with, but he'd never cared nor reacted to them. Until now.

"Thought so."

(Y/N) flashed him a triumphant grin, his fingers squeezing Sukuna's bicep through his sweatshirt and lingering for a moment too long. Sukuna glanced down at his hand, catching the silver rings adorning some of his fingers, and then arched a brow at him. He opened his mouth to speak, to make some dumb, teasing comment, but he almost choked on his words when (Y/N) softly pressed his thumb into the dark ink just above his jawline.

"Your tattoos are pretty cool." He muttered, leaning in to trace the clean lines with his eyes.

"Take a picture." Sukuna finally said lamely and felt inclined to groan at himself. "It'll last longer."

Putting him out of his misery, (Y/N) had the kindness to laugh and roll his eyes, his hands dropping down to rest on Sukuna's shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, maybe I will." He chuckled. "But, seriously, if you need anything, let me know. I really don't have any rules other than, like, pick up after yourself. I study at the university a few streets down, so I'll be out of your hair most of the time."

"Great."

"Great!"

Sukuna wasn't sure what to make of his situation. He had a fancy apartment with fancy appliances and a chill roommate he barely saw half the time unless he was catching him on the weekend or when he came home late with the subtle scent of beer clinging to him.

(Y/N) hardly ever nagged him or really spoke to him, honestly. Anyone else would've considered themselves to be living the dream, and while Sukuna certainly felt like it on most days, he couldn't help realizing how a part of him wanted (Y/N) to stick around more during his free time or even catch him having a girl, just to see how he'd react.

He wanted (Y/N)'s attention, and Sukuna never wanted anyone's attention. Everyone was supposed to want his attention. Maybe it was because he was used to living with two social butterflies and a social butterfly in the making. Yeah, maybe. Hopefully.

But it was an odd feeling. Like the one he got in his chest the moment (Y/N) entered the living room in low-hanging pajama pants, his half-lidded eyes focused on his phone as he asked Sukuna what he needed from the store in that sleepy, rough voice that set his nerves on fire as if he were some ditzy high schooler.

His lips twisted up into an annoyed pout, eyes flickering to the top of his phone and scanning whatever text message he'd received. Sukuna couldn't focus on the television with him in the room, his gaze only snapping back toward the screen when a cheap jumpscare mixed with the high-pitched screaming of the protagonist.

Sukuna swallowed, squinting at the pretty brunette in hopes of focusing on her and her clumsy attempt at running from the killer, but his gaze slowly slid back to stare at (Y/N). The pout had vanished, his lips pulled in a focused line as he typed away on his phone, neither hand pulling away to tug up his pants or adjust them. Sukuna could just faintly see his V-line peeking at him, along with a little trail of hair leading south from his belly button.

Fuck. The hell was wrong with him? This was his roommate and his closest friend's family.

"Soo," (Y/N) lowered his phone to look at him, sleep still lingering on his shoulders. He looked so... cute when he was sleepy. Ugh, Sukuna was going to strangle himself or throw himself off the roof one of these days. "You need anything?"

"I, uh.." Sukuna coughed into his clenched fist and forced himself to shrug as casually as possible, his eyes returning to the screen just in time to watch the protagonist narrowly escape the killer for a third time. "Nah, I'm good."

"You want anything?"

A reply built in the back of his throat, something he'd usually teasingly spout at a girl he was interested in sleeping with and nothing else, just for the hell of it. He considered slapping on his signature shit-eating smirk and cooing 'you' out of pure instinct, but the way (Y/N) stared at him expectantly, his eyes calming and gentle, left him sputtering.

Itadori Sukuna never got nervous.

"I, uh, I-I, uh-" God, he sounded like Jin. Fuckin' pathetic. If (Y/N) found his stammering unusual, he hid it well. He only tilted his head, glancing away to eye the movie with mild curiosity before returning his attention to him. "Fuck, jus' get whatever, man."

(Y/N) nodded, the soft click of him pressing the power button on his phone drowned out by the loud, imposing music from the television speakers. He lingered, watching the screen, probably paying much more attention than Sukuna, who felt hyperaware of everything his body was doing. He looked forward, but he watched (Y/N) from the corner of his eye, catching the way he slightly swayed in place.

"You got anything you're doing today?"

They both knew the answer. Sukuna could hardly manage to hold down a job without getting fired the following month for getting mouthy with a customer and ever since he dropped his rough circle of high school friends, his days of leaving the house were filled with riding his bike around the city or hanging out with Toji and their mutual buddies whenever they were available for a couple drinks.

He had enough money saved up to cover his portion of the rent from odd jobs here and there (most legal, some not), but the gnawing reminder that he needed something more steady lingered in the back of his head. At least he wasn't a gambler like Toji, thank fuck. (Y/N) would've probably kicked him to the curb weeks into their new arrangement.

It wasn't like (Y/N) had a job, either. Damn trust fund baby and his ridiculous family of snobs. Though, he supposed he could give him the benefit of the doubt; (Y/N) was a good student, Sukuna thought college was useless bullshit.

"Why?" Sukuna uncrossed his arms and propped one up along the backrest of the couch, pink strands of hair tickling his forehead when he cocked his head to the side.

"You can come with me to the store and pick out what you want."

"What am I, your sugar baby?" Sukuna scoffed despite the heat pinching the curves of his cheeks. He didn't want to be Toji, who'd taken the role of househusband and stay-at-home dad without a single fuss or second thought, but being taken care of didn't sound so bad when he considered it more. "I can buy my own shit."

(Y/N)'s mouth curved up in amusement, his eyes crinkling as a little, shaky exhale left his semi-parted lips, like he was trying to bite back a laugh. "Yeah," He hummed and walked forward, slumping on the other end of the couch and leaning his back against the armrest. "How's job-hunting, by the way?"

The teasing undertones in his voice made Sukuna huff, his crimson stare narrowing into a glare. "Fine." He just about snarled.

"Mm." (Y/N) chuckled, one elbow propping up on the armrest while the other rested along the backrest. Sprawled out like he owned the place- which he did. Bought the comfy couch Sukuna loved dozing on, too. "Where have you applied?"

Sukuna bit the inside of his cheek, his oddly sharp canines digging into the gummy walls of his mouth. "Different places here and there." He pursed his lips and brushed him off with a shake of his hand. "Don't worry 'bout me, roomie. Worry 'bout those grades n' that little degree of yours."

"I gotta worry about you, roomie. I promised your brother I'd keep a good eye on you-" Jin did what. "-and I plan to keep that promise. I can help you-"

"I can do it my damn self." Sukuna snapped, miffed by what Jin could've possibly said to prompt a full-fledged promise and feeling prickly about the idea of having to owe someone a favor.

The teasing smile shifted into a more genuine one, so gentle and reassuring that it made Sukuna shift uncomfortably on the cushion. (Y/N) leaned forward, scooting closer to him. "I know you can, but we're living together, Sukuna. We can be friends."

Sukuna scoffed at that, but felt himself soften in the slightest, his stomach flipping. "Whatever you say, roomie." He looked away from him to avoid his eyes and hoped nothing about his face betrayed him.

How long had it been since he had someone other than his family and Toji? Since someone wanted something from him other than a quick fuck or to drag him back to the troublemaking days he'd left behind for Yuuji's sake? Kindness, Sukuna learnt fairly quickly, was always followed by favors. But (Y/N) had no favors to ask, no strings to pull. He never asked for anything.

(Y/N) chuckled again, an airy thing, and reached out to pat his knee. Casual, friendly, nothing out of the ordinary, but Sukuna's gaze snapped down to his fingers as if he'd been burned. "C'mon, get dressed, crybaby."

By the time Sukuna registered the word, (Y/N) had already left the couch, one thumb hooking around the waistband of his pants to finally pull them upward. "Crybaby?" Sukuna bristled, voice full of annoyance, but mouth curling upward when (Y/N)'s snickers echoed in the hallway like a song.

Sukuna got dressed quicker than he intended to, and waited on his bed to avoid the no doubt amused look (Y/N) would give him if he caught him waiting by the door like some dog. He pulled at the strings along the rips in his dark jeans to distract himself until there were two soft knocks on his bedroom door.

He stood up slowly and approached the door, his hand rising to fiddle with the collar of his leather jacket. Nervous? No, that couldn't be it. What did he have to be nervous about? They were only going shopping.

(Y/N)'s smiling face greeted him when he opened the door, gaze flickering over him from head to toe. His smile widened, a quiet, barely audible giggle slipping from his mouth. "You ready?" He asked, one finger hooking around the silver chain hanging from Sukuna's neck and giving it a little tug.

"Quit." Sukuna smacked his hand away with a huff, dramatically rolling his eyes, but the corner of his mouth lifted regardless. "Obviously I'm ready, these aren't my damn pajamas."

(Y/N) snorted, his shoulder pressing into the doorframe as he leaned forward toward him. His chin dipped slightly, eyes gliding over him again, more slowly. Sukuna straightened his back subtly, shoulders rolling back and hand massaging one to make the action more casual. He looked good; he always looked good. Working out was like meditation to him, but with more obvious perks that attracted others to him like bees to pollen.

(Y/N) looked nice, too, in his off-white sweater with an elk design slapped right on the center. The fabric looked soft and nice, something you'd wear to a Christmas party at a friend's place. His beige shorts stopped where his knees were, clashing with his sweater and making Sukuna consider checking the weather app.

"You know," (Y/N) began with a little inhale, eyes rising to look at Sukuna through his lashes. Sukuna hummed, rolling his neck in a way he knew drew attention to the tattoos along it. "You're like a chihuahua."

"What?"

(Y/N) laughed and shook his head, pushing himself off the doorframe to wave him off. "Forget about it, forget about it."

"No, no," Sukuna watched him make his way down the hall, his mouth parted in surprise and offense. A chihuahua?! "The fuck does that mean, (Y/N)? Hey- I'm talking to you!"

The ride to the store was quiet, peaceful. Indie rock music flowed through the speakers of (Y/N)'s car, filling the otherwise silent space with lyrics about relationship woes that Sukuna considered mildly corny, but tolerated when he caught (Y/N) tapping his fingers along with the music.

He tugged at his jacket when the store's ac blasted him in the face, the chill nipping at his cheeks and throat until his body grew used to it. He followed (Y/N) blindly through the store, silently watching him grab things and erase words from the list on his phone, offering no input other than hums and grunts.

"Ooh,"

A noise that Sukuna quickly became aquatinted with and deduced it usually meant two things: (Y/N) spotted something nice and he was going to either to A) study every inch of it and then set it back down or B) turn to him, ask for his opinion, and regardless toss it in the cart.

Sukuna watched, amused, as (Y/N) took their cart into the small clothes section of the store and grabbed a shirt from the rack. A dark gray thing with a skeleton design, generic and overdone but (Y/N) pressed it against Sukuna's frame and tilted his head as if he were actually considering it.

"No fucking way."

"It's so you, though."

"Yeah, me in junior high." Sukuna swatted at the shirt with a crinkled nose. "I don't wear this type of shit anymore."

(Y/N) blew a raspberry and retracted his arm to set the shirt back in its place. "I literally saw you wearing a skeleton sweatshirt to sleep, 'Kuna." He muttered under his breath and spun on his heel to rifle through some more shirts. "You're not fooling anyone."

Before Sukuna could retort, another customer strolling by smiled at them sweetly. "Aren't you a lovely couple?" The old lady crooned, a gentle chuckle leaving her mouth.

Sukuna felt his body stiffen, his eyes bouncing between the oblivious (and quite frankly, a little nosy) lady and (Y/N). He hadn't considered how his hovering and minimal effort could come across as an indifferent boyfriend being dragged into errands he wanted nothing to do with. His stare lingered on (Y/N), teeth pressing together in a clench when (Y/N) looked over his shoulder at her.

"Thank you!" He smiled, another shirt in his hands that he pressed against Sukuna's once again.

The old lady, seemingly satisfied with her compliment of the day, walked off, disappearing into the frozen foods aisle. Sukuna watched until he couldn't spot her anymore and slowly turned his head to study (Y/N).

"You listen to Radiohead, right? They seem up your alley."

Sukuna nudged the shirt down and drew (Y/N)'s eyes. He blinked at him, confused. "She thought we were together."

"And?" (Y/N) folded the shirt, a little crinkled and messy, but it was the thought that counted, before setting it back down. "It made her feel good to think she made someone else feel good. It's not like we're going to see her again."

"You don't care, then?"

"Do you?"

Sukuna's lips pressed together. He thought for a moment. "No." He admitted softly, a little miffed, if he had to be honest.

Sukuna didn't 'do' relationships. At all.

It wasn't as if he had little to no role models, he knew what good relationships looked like: Jin and Kaori were the ideal couple, even if sometimes it felt like Jin was more into her than she was into him, and Toji had managed to land himself a woman he looked at as if she hung the stars and moon.

Relationships simply took time and effort he wasn't willing to spend on someone he didn't consider family. Partners expected too much, demanded too much, and required too much of him. He'd been privy to Jin and Kaori's arguments, the huffs and puffs of a frustrated Toji losing his mind when he first met his wife. Relationships had their ups and downs, and Sukuna couldn't be assed to deal with one.

But... But... It felt different now.

He watched (Y/N) tug another article of clothing free from a rack again, this time a black hoodie with a white skull design over one breast, and let him hold it up to him without a fuss. It was stupid, too much like the him from days that left him cringing and groaning when he thought about them, but he liked how (Y/N) considered him. Even if it meant adding yet another black hoodie to the dozens he already owned.

He wondered if this was how Toji felt all those years ago? Him staring at his girl, thinking about what the future would look like for the first time in his life? They'd always talked about the present, silently agreed their lifestyles would get them killed one day, but then one day, Toji dragged them both out of it.

For Toji, he needed to be around for his wife and kid. For Sukuna, he brought up Yuuji and how the boy would need his uncle around to help him get into all sorts of trouble. It was enough for Sukuna. He'd never realized how much he itched to be better, if not for himself then for family.

Now, maybe he had a new reason. A warm, sweet, friendly reason.

"Fine." Sukuna exhaled heavily, black-painted nails scratching at his warming cheek. "Whatever. It's fine."

"Yeah?" (Y/N) smiled so big it made his eyes crinkle. Sukuna fought the urge to smile back, so he slapped on a scowl. "You want it? I knew it was so you." He teased and roved his gaze over the hoodie again with a pleased look.

"Just put it in the damn cart for fucks sake."

(Y/N) laughed, always unfazed by his snappy demeanor, and draped the hoodie over the side of the cart. "C'mon, let's grab some toppo and a new box of hair dye so you don't start crying on me."

"Tch." Sukuna tsked, bringing his hand over to gently shove (Y/N)'s shoulder, but it only elicited another laugh from him, one that made Sukuna's insides churn pleasantly.

He could get used to this.

Tossing his keys on the coffee table and setting his helmet aside more gently, Sukuna scanned the living room and then the kitchen for any signs of (Y/N). His car had been in the parking lot, same spot as always, but the apartment looked devoid of the usual signs that he was home.

There was no music playing from his bedroom, no silly comedy drama playing on the television, no circular stains on the coffee table or any used coasters. Sukuna assumed he'd settled down for a nap the second he got home from school, and cringed at himself for tossing the keys so carelessly.

A bit more mindfully, he stripped himself of his jacket and draped it over the back of the loveseat before approaching the kitchen, grateful his socks muffled his footsteps. Sukuna popped the pantry open and took out the cereal box, carefully setting it down on the counter before popping the fridge open and reaching for the milk.

"Motherfuc-"

Sukuna glared down at the milk jug as if it were at fault for barely even having enough milk for a cup of coffee and tossed consideration out the window. He stomped toward the hallway leading to their bedrooms, and only then did his ears pick up muffled voices. He slowed his steps, almost coming to a full stop, before his eyes flickered to the jug, and his frustration reared its head again.

Yanking the doorknob and shouldering his way into the bedroom, Sukuna opened his mouth before looking up. "Oi, (Y/N), when you're done with the-"

His eyes immediately locked on (Y/N) and then dropped down to the stranger on his bed. (Y/N) blinked at him in surprise, eyes widened and brows lifted like a deer caught in headlights. The stranger similarly stared at him, only his pale eyebrows scrunched together in puzzlement. Sukuna paid his white hair and unsettling bright eyes no mind, more focused on their rather... compromising position.

(Y/N) was kneeling on his bed and leaning over the stranger, one hand pinning down the stranger's wrist while the other had his collar fisted. The stranger's legs were on either side of his thighs, bent slightly and spread wide open.

What the fuck was this?

Sukuna's grip tightened on the jug and his teeth grinded together roughly, crimson stare darting back to the stranger's face to glare at him. Who was this fucker? His clothes looked nice, expensive, and the round glasses on the bridge of his nose looked nicer than any jewelry Sukuna owned.

"Oh!" The stranger brightened, his head craning to peer up at (Y/N). "Is this your new roommate? He's hotter than yo-"

The hand grabbing the stranger's collar jumped to his face, palm clamping over his mouth and shoving his head further into the mattress. The stranger's shoulders shook with muffled laughter, and it took all of Sukuna's willpower to keep from sneering.

"Shut up!" (Y/N) hissed lowly, a groan vibrating in his chest. "God, you're annoying."

The stranger wriggled around, freeing his wrist and then slinging his arms around (Y/N)'s shoulders as if it were something he did all the time. He dragged (Y/N) downward and (Y/N) yelped, his hands scrambling to catch himself before he could topple over. Sukuna's eye twitched at their proximity.

"I'm Gojo Satoru, nice to finally meet ya, Itadori." Gojo introduced himself with that irritating grin, his arms coiled tightly around (Y/N)'s shoulders and forcing his face into his shoulder. "(Y/N) and I've known each other since junior high. He told me allll about his new roomie." (Y/N) made a muffled noise akin to a low whine.

Fucking fantastic. He should've guessed (Y/N) would've had someone hanging off his arm with his money, last name, and pretty face. And they had known each other since they were kids? Fuck, how could he compete with that?

Sukuna wanted to tear those snow white strands right from his scalp.

"There's no milk." Sukuna forced out, raising the milk jug and giving it a shake. (Y/N) managed to free himself from Gojo's clutches and furrowed his brows at the sight. "You left it in the fridge. You bitched when I did it.. so.."

Gojo blinked, a little sheepish laugh tumbling from his mouth. "Oh, that was me."

"'Toru." (Y/N) sighed heavily, as if he'd dealt with this problem before. Sukuna felt compelled to rip him away from the unbothered fool beneath him. "Seriously? C'mon, I have roommates now. No more maids or chefs, remember?"

"I forgot, I swear," Gojo whined in the tone of someone who'd never received a proper lecture in their entire life, his lips pulling into an obnoxious and exaggerated pout. His very presence was grating on Sukuna's nerves. "I'll remember next time."

"You better." (Y/N) sighed, the bed creaking softly when he moved back and finally got off the white haired pest to sit properly on his bed. "Sorry, 'Kuna. I'll buy some on my way back from dropping this idiot off."

Sukuna swallowed, finding his throat abnormally dry at the sight of it all. Gojo sprawled out across the bed, and unlike (Y/N), who managed to make the action endearing or even attractive, Gojo looked like an invasive animal taking over territory that wasn't his. His long legs extended over (Y/N)'s lap, settling there like it was made for his feet to rest upon.

Sukuna itched to do something about it. Instead, he inhaled a good amount of air into his lungs. "Whatever." He said, quietly and barely restrained, before turning on his heel.

The bed creaked. "I don't think he likes me."

(Y/N)'s chuckle followed. "Suguru's the only person who likes you, 'Toru. You're such a pain."

It took almost two whole hours for (Y/N) and Gojo to step out into the living room with the news about Gojo finally leaving. Sukuna hummed at his goodbyes, more content with staring daggers at the murder mystery film playing on the television, but the moment the door shut and the lock clicked, he began checking the time on his phone.

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes.

His foot tapped impatiently against the ground, his fingers tapping on his phone screen until it flickered on to reveal the time. Almost twenty minutes-

The door handle wiggled and turned, bringing his attention to it. (Y/N) stepped inside, milk in hand, and locked the door behind him before slipping his shoes from his feet. Sukuna straightened up slightly.

"Got your milk!" (Y/N) announced with a smile, raising the jug for him to see and heading into the living room to put it inside the fridge.

"Hey," Sukuna called out, his fingers curling around the remote when the film came to an end. He mindlessly flicked through the suggested horror recommendations until he settled for one that looked interesting enough.

"What's up?" (Y/N) responded, the sound of popcorn popping in the microwave following.

Sukuna remained silent, inhaling the mouth-watering smell of buttered popcorn that chased away the lingering smell of the eucalyptus candle (Y/N) always lit in the mornings. He kept looking forward when (Y/N) emerged from the kitchen with a large bowl of popcorn, fighting the urge to glance at him when he took a seat on the couch and set the bowl between them.

"Uh oh," (Y/N) gave a little laugh, though Sukuna caught the worry underneath. "What's wrong, 'Kuna?"

"We need a new rule," Sukuna spoke and propped his arm on the armrest, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the silver piercings along his ears.

(Y/N) scooped some popcorn into his hand. "Are you mad about the milk? 'Kuna, you've done it three times-"

"It's not about the milk." Sukuna scoffed. "It's about bringing people over without saying anything, alright? Especially if they're hookups or boyfriends or something." He couldn't help the sourness that dribbled into his voice at the mere thought of having to see Gojo clinging to (Y/N) like a baby koala again.

"You do it all the time." Creases formed between (Y/N)'s brows in soft frustration. Sukuna couldn't take him seriously while he chewed on the popcorn irritably, the corner of his mouth threatening to twitch upward. "You bring home girls that sound like screeching owls, but you don't hear me complaining about them."

"You could, but that's you. I don't want to come home to that."

"So, what? I can't get laid in my own apartment unless I get permission first?" (Y/N) moved around, curling his leg to fully face Sukuna, his lips forming the beginning of a frown that only deepened. Frowning didn't suit a face like his.

Sukuna's jaw ticked. "I don't want to hear what that fucking Gojo Satoru sounds like with you. His voice is annoying as is."

"Gojo?" (Y/N) blinked at him with an agape mouth, flabbergasted. "Satoru isn't my boyfriend, Sukuna! I- I literally set him up with his actual boyfriend years ago! He's like a brother to me."

Heat flared up Sukuna's neck, his eyes immediately snapping away to study the nearly forgotten movie. "Oh."

The movie filled in the following silence with low, ominous music as the opening credits flashed across the screen. (Y/N) continued searing a hole into the side of his head with his stare, and Sukuna pointedly ignored him. He couldn't help the sense of relief that settled across his chest like a lounging cat, fuzzy and warm enough to soothe away the jealousy that'd been bubbling up since he first laid eyes on Gojo.

"I'll give you a heads-up." (Y/N) finally agreed, lifting the bowl of popcorn to set it roughly over Sukuna's lap. It nearly tilted, forcing Sukuna's hands to grab it at the last second. "But I have enough people dictating what I do with my life to let someone else add more shit on top."

Sukuna's teeth sank down lightly on his tongue, his nostrils flaring with an inhale as (Y/N) got up from the couch. "What do you mean by that?" He asked, voice rough.

He knew what it meant. He'd heard plenty about the expectations set upon those born into the Zenin family, expectations that had to be met or they'd be disowned and disinherited in the blink of an eye. Toji failed to be unrealistically perfect and got the boot after years of torment and punishment. The ideal Zenin was a robot, someone without flaws or weaknesses who'd carry on the family name with pride and without question.

(Y/N) spared him a glance over his shoulder, the irritation deflating from his body rapidly, replaced with an exhaustion Sukuna wasn't used to seeing. It lingered there before being replaced with his usual, small smile. "Don't worry about it. Jus' hold up your end of the rule, alright?" His figure disappeared down the hall, the door echoing shut a moment after.

Sukuna's fingers tightened around the bowl, his eyes squeezing shut with an internal curse at himself. The popcorn rattled together when he set the bowl down on the coffee table, soft grumbling slipping from his mouth as he fiddled with the remote to pause the movie and follow after him, already disliking the thought of things being tense or weird between them.

He hated it. He hated the very idea of caring so deeply about what someone else thought about him. He was Itadori Sukuna, the guy who slept around and dropped people once they bored him. He was the guy parents told their kids not to be like, the guy in-laws dreaded. He was mean, standoffish, and closed off to everyone but his loved ones. He wasn't some guy who trailed after others with his tail tucked between his legs.

Yet he stood in front of (Y/N)'s bedroom door, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip until it grew raw. Sukuna could count on one hand the number of times he acknowledged his wrongs, let alone apologized to someone. So he stood motionless, his arms hanging limply at his sides and his feet frozen as if they were stuck to the floor. His eyes focused on the light peering from the door's underside, watching it dance when (Y/N)'s shadow glided around the room.

Just do it, Sukuna. Christ.

He tapped his knuckles against the door and waited for (Y/N)'s voice before he stepped inside. "Hey," He cleared his throat and braced himself against the doorframe, glancing upward at (Y/N), who sat at his desk with a notebook and textbook open. "I, uh..." Sukuna kneaded his fingers into the junction of his shoulder, mouth rolling into a thin line. The words formed on his tongue, but refused to budge further than that. Fuck.

(Y/N)'s face softened, warmed by the light of his lamp. "You want to hang out?"

Sukuna allowed himself to smile, a small one, but a smile nonetheless. "Yeah."

108 notes · View notes

whereianonymouslypostfics · 2 months ago

Text

Tribulations Part 1

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: 14.6k

Summary: Arguing with Wanda leads to more stress than usual for both of you.

A/N: Here's the angst (FINALLY). It will be two parts just because it's so damn long!

Warnings: Angst, arguments, sickness, discussions about death/end of life.

Money.

Of all the things that you thought you’d argue about with your wife…well this wasn’t in the top ten.

Neither of you had ever really considered money an issue in your marriage. It certainly wasn’t a point of contention like you’ve heard it can be with most other couples. You both make plenty of money, sure Wanda made a lot more, but it wasn’t as if either of you were ever stressed about money.

For this reason, you’re not sure how a simple conversation about getting affairs in order had caused an argument.

That said, when emotions were running high, sometimes both you and Wanda were guilty of saying things you shouldn’t.

This conversation started because of an issue that you and Wanda were far more used to fighting over.

Her job.

She’d been out last night, like most nights of the week, and one of her meetings hadn’t gone as well as she’d hoped. She’d been sitting down with one of her suppliers to renegotiate terms, but she’d somehow offended him along the way. She couldn’t quite remember what she’d said that made him so upset. Was it the previously agreed upon 10% fee increase, or was it the fact she was only signing a 2-year contract instead of a 3 year?

All Wanda really remembers is that the table between them had been flipped and guns started going off. After the table hit her in the face and broke something, it actually protected her from being shot more than once which she was grateful for. She was only a little less grateful after she went through surgery to repair her zygomatic arch and remove the bullet from her side. It was just a flesh wound, but this fact only made you feel a little better when you arrived at medical to visit your wife.

She admittedly had looked a little rough with the bruising beneath her left eye that extended down her cheek. The careful suturing along her face was unlikely to leave a scar she’d been told, but that didn’t stop it from looking gnarly right after surgery, and for weeks afterward.

When you’d seen your wife lying in bed with a grimace and a horrendous looking bruise you’d panicked. You’d already been briefed by Steve as usual, but even he wasn’t able to appease your growing anxiety this time.

You’d been at work when he called you, and it took you longer than you would have liked to leave. This stress was compounded by Wanda’s appearance, and you may have been a little blunter than you usually were after she was hurt on the job.

“You need to get out Wands.”

You usually didn’t start the conversation like this. You of course asked how she was feeling first, but usually you’d sit with her for a bit and fuss over her before you asked her to explain what happened. You’d barely waited two minutes and Wanda’s shame at being hurt quickly was overshadowed by annoyance at your insistence that she quit.

“It’s not that easy, Y/n.”

You of course knew this and you told her this, but not in the best way. This had probably been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Well obviously, Wands, but you need to try harder.”

“How do you propose I do that, Y/n?”

You had been too focused on the discoloration and swelling around her eye to think of anything particularly plausible.

“I don’t know, Wanda, but you need to leave before you get killed.”

Unsurprisingly, Wanda had given you the silent treatment for an hour until you finally left her alone to return to work. You were more upset by the fact that she’d gotten hurt than anything else, but you’d taken your fear and frustration out on her which you felt guilty about. You’d been distracted for the entire time you’d attempted to stay at work that night. You figured you just needed time to calm down while Wanda needed to focus on getting better. She shouldn’t have to worry about you and your insecurities right now. You’d visited her for two days at the compound after work until she was discharged and set free to go back home.

You’d been hoping that she would return home and take time off of work, but that hadn’t happened. Wanda had to make up for lost time, and you had been so mad you just went home and didn’t speak to her for nearly 24 hours.

When Wanda finally came home the third night after her surgery, she found you in the living room working on something that surprised her. She barely greeted her dogs as she eyes the words ‘last will and testament’ and wonders what the hell you’re doing.

She doesn’t realize that she’s asked this out loud until you turn around and shoot her a slightly annoyed look. You look tired like you haven’t slept well, but she doesn’t even have time to consider this right now. She focuses on your scowl and the pen that you’re holding in a white-knuckled grip.

“What does it look like, Wands? I figure we need to be responsible.”

Wanda’s response is so quick it almost gives you whiplash. She sounds offended and it doesn’t take you long to figure out why.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

This is when you realized that you hadn’t paid enough attention to your wife. Not only was she in pain and stressed about work, but now you were surprising her with wanting to have your will updated.

You honestly had just wanted to make sure that everything was in order. Did you leave all of your money to Wanda or Yelena? Check. You did the same for nearly everything else except for one thing that you plan on leaving Natasha. You decided that you weren’t going to tell Wanda about that because even though it is ancient history, you had a letter stashed away that you wanted to give her in the event that you die before Wanda.

Wanda had sat down beside you waiting for your response, and you just glared at the paper in front of you before you claimed that it wasn’t personal.

“I just want to be prepared.”

Wanda frowns at this but she doesn’t argue as she considers asking to read it. It’s not entirely her business even though she’s sure you’ve left her most everything, but she does wonder. Still, she knows she should focus on the reason why you’re doing this tonight, and she can’t help but sigh in defeat.

“It was a fluke, detka. It won’t happen again.”

You’re still on edge and Wanda’s empty promises just grate on your nerves. You have been with her for years and you know better than that by now. You know that she can’t guarantee that she’ll be safe, and this truth is a bit harder to stomach tonight. You shake your head before setting down your pen and turning to face your wife.

“So I should just wait until you die to worry about this?”

Despite knowing that this question is designed to antagonize Wanda, you can’t help but be a little desperate. You know that the only way, the best chance, for Wanda to be safe in the long term is to quit. You’ve talked about it a dozen times in the past year alone, and you both agreed that if you were going to start a family, both you and Wanda had to be as far away from her business as possible.

This is what you’re thinking about when you ask Wanda to reconsider her career choice in the cruelest way you can. Selfishly, you want your wife by your side for years to come, and you want to stop having to worry about her every time one of you leaves the house.

You see Wanda’s face fall and you know you’ve made a mistake, but you can’t stop. You unconsciously choose to channel your fear into the least productive line of questioning that focuses on something you couldn’t care less about at the moment.

“Is all of your money under just your name? Am I the beneficiary or will it all be left to your brother? How does that even work when it’s all earned illegally?”

You watch as Wanda’s frown turns into an ugly sneer, and you feel yourself tense. You wish you could take a moment to breathe instead of panic, but unfortunately when your wife’s concerned this can be difficult.

“Are you seriously asking me if you get my money right now? Is that all you care about?”

Even as she asks this, Wanda knows that this isn’t the case. You’re both extremely riled up about different, yet related issues and it’s making you say stupid things. You stand up nearly throwing your chair back onto the floor causing the dogs to jump in surprise. Boone is sitting beside your chair and Rogue stands behind Wanda as you blindly lash out and send the papers in front of you scattering across the floor. Rogue jumps in surprise and ducks behind Wanda while Boone stands up beside you.

“I don’t give a shit about your money, but we need to start somewhere. It doesn’t seem like you want to admit that you’re never going to leave your job!”

You and Wanda just stare at each other in silence for an agonizingly long time. It’s Wanda who finally speaks up because you’ve finally said your piece. You’ve voiced one of your greatest fears and you have nothing else to throw at your wife. Wanda eventually just rolls her eyes before storming toward the garage. She doesn’t want to be around you right now, not if you’re just going to keep pressuring her into making a difficult decision. She has a headache and shouting at you has only made it worse.

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

You don’t manage to respond before you watch both Wanda and Rogue escape to the garage. You hear the door open only moments later, and you’re not exactly shocked to hear her car start and back out leaving you and Boone to think about what you’ve done.

The morning after your argument with Wanda is worse than you thought it would be. You wake up alone in bed with Boone lying in the hallway right in front of the stairs. The fact that Wanda didn’t come back last night leaves you equally annoyed and upset, but mostly at yourself. You go through the motions of getting ready for work, but you manage to check your phone a half dozen times for a text or call from your wife.

Nothing.

You guess you don’t deserve a check in after last night.

Wanda didn’t have a much better night away from you. She woke up with her entire left side throbbing and Rogue at the foot of the bed. She forgot to take her medications last night, and she’s certainly regretting it now as she tries to sit up. Her side burns and she bites her lip to keep from screaming as she finally manages to get to her feet. She doesn’t waste any time going to her purse and grabbing the two medications she’d been given a few nights ago.

She slowly heads to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and something to eat. She’s starving since she skipped dinner last night, and the sight of Rogue following her reminds her that she hadn’t grabbed any of his food before leaving the house. She sighs in defeat as she sets her glass in the sink and looks to the pantry for suitable alternatives for him. She ends up just making extra eggs and toast to give him which feels ridiculous, but Rogue doesn’t seem to mind at all as he munches away at his breakfast on a plate that looks just like hers.

Wanda is sitting at the table where you’ve always eaten dinner while at the compound when she thinks to call you. She bites down on the urge and swallows it with her slightly burnt toast as she shakes her head. She needs time to think about everything that’s happened in the last week. She’s still not feeling up to talking to you yet, but she has to admit that you make a good point.

You’ve been wanting Wanda to quit her job for years. She’s honestly considered doing it for nearly that long. However, there’s always been something stopping her from taking the chance and leaving the mob. She’d always claimed that it was a dangerous and tedious task untangling herself from the criminal empire she’d run for longer than a decade.

The risks of leaving herself and by association her family vulnerable never sat well with her, but this wasn’t what kept her from quitting her job.

She’d never told anyone, certainly not you, but she was terrified of leaving her job. She was afraid that doing so would change everything, and once she had no mobster job, no secret appeal, you’d become bored of her.

It felt silly and conceited, but Wanda knows that becoming a stay-at-home mom, which is the ultimate goal, isn’t nearly as exciting as what she does now on a daily basis. There’s an irrational, or perhaps fearful, part of her brain that’s telling her that quitting will ruin your relationship. You’ll realize that without all of the excitement and danger, that she’s nothing special.

Wanda’s only tried to think of comparable careers that she could pursue to keep this from happening, but it wasn’t realistic. If she was going to leave the mob, she couldn’t try to do anything else. She needed to take a break from work, perhaps permanently, and then stay on the right side of the law for the rest of her life.

She knows she’s been lucky to avoid being charged and going to jail, but at some point, her luck will run out.

Similarly to how she escaped a few days ago, although not unscathed, she knows that one day she may not make it out. The idea of dying from an injury sustained while working makes her pause and drop her fork back to her plate. She ignores Rogue’s whine as he sits beside her with sad, hungry eyes.

The idea of leaving you in this fashion makes her blood run cold. She never wants to leave you alone and unprotected, hell she never wants to leave you period, but the idea of blindsiding you in this way…

She pushes her chair back from the table and grimaces as she stands and takes her plate to the kitchen. She sets it in the sink before she stands at the counter staring off into the living room but not seeing anything. She thinks about what would happen if she died. Would someone come after you? Her family? She hates to think of you being hurt, or worse, but the thought of you grieving her death makes her a little nauseous. She makes some coffee and nearly chugs it as she thinks about how she’d feel if she was in your position.

She has to admit that you are far more patient than she would be. If she had asked you to leave work as much as you had, and been told no for so long…she’s not sure she would have tolerated it. She likely would have threatened to leave you by now, and although she’s pained by the thought, she can’t help it. Her anxiety would make it near impossible to sit home alone night after night not knowing if you’d come home.

She disappears into the bathroom to change the bandage covering the wound on her side. It’s been cleaned up and closed but it’s still oozing because it’s impossible not to move at all. As she looks into the mirror she pauses before taking off her shirt. She focused on the red line down the side of her face and the splotchy skin beneath her eye. She’s stunned that she didn’t end up worse off after that night.

As she thinks about this, she can’t keep her mind from wandering to you.

She’d seen your apprehension when you first came to visit her after her surgery. She’d been in pain and drowsy, and she’d just wanted to cuddle with you. She’d been prepared for some anxiety and was ready to offer reassurance, but your resolute request that she quit caught her off guard.

At first she’d thought that you were mad at her for getting hurt. She’s certain you were worried too, but she’d thought that this had been overshadowed by anger, and she still believes this.

She spends most of the morning scowling as she tries to work out what she wants to do. She needs to do something, and although she’d intended to work, a call from her brother told her that there was nothing to do. He was taking care of everything so she could have the day off, and no amount of arguing with him would change his mind.

So now Wanda’s mildly irritated at her brother too when she decides that she’s sat around for long enough. She doesn’t want to walk around the compound if she can’t work, so she decides to take more pain meds and take Rogue on a walk around town.

She retreats to the bedroom once again to figure out the easiest disguise she can so she can get some air as quickly as possible.

You’re struggling to get through the day at work while Wanda’s busy picking between two different blonde wigs. You slept like shit and it’s caught up to you so quickly that you’ve been forced to drink coffee while at work. This is something you’ve managed to avoid for years, and it’s not something that anyone at work misses. You receive shocked, both kidding and serious, looks when you walk through treatment with a cup of 50% coffee and 50% milk.

You stifle a yawn as you try to focus on your next appointment. It shouldn’t be too difficult, but then again nothing was very easy for you when you were fighting with your wife. You could name fewer than half a dozen times that you disagreed enough to avoid one another for any period of time. You sigh at the thought and push your way through the treatment area door so you can head up to your office. Your assistant is still taking a history so you probably have time to drop your coffee off at your desk and delay the inevitable.

You slouch in your seat in front of your computer and stare at the screen without really seeing it. You ignore the glare and the schedule in front of you as you consider how you could have gone about this differently.

You loved your wife. That wasn’t even a question.

The real question that you’ve been wrestling with for years was far less straightforward. Most of the time you tricked yourself into not thinking too much about the risks associated with Wanda’s work, but incidences like a few nights ago caused your anxiety to ramp up. You think about Wanda’s reassurance that everything will be fine, and you’re honestly sick of hearing it.

You’re sick of trying to believe it.

Maybe it had worked when you first met her because you didn’t know any better. You hadn’t gone through everything you have now. You’d seen and experienced too much of the collateral damage that came with being with Wanda, and now you were just tired.

You don’t get to dwell on this as your phone goes off and you’re being summoned for your appointment.

You’ll think about this later. After all, you’re not sure that you’ll be seeing your wife tonight.

Wanda had made the uncharacteristic decision to wander downtown among the bustling city life for her walk with Rogue. Not only had she wanted to be distracted, but she hadn’t wanted to be alone. She knew her mind would wander too much if she went on a hike or anywhere more secluded than where she was now. She was wearing her favorite blonde wig and sunglasses that covered most, but not all, of her injury.

Her first stop after she’d found parking was a pet store. She’d found the closest thing to the food you had for Rogue at home, but she’d been unable to buy it without a prescription. She’d only considered bothering you for one for a millisecond before she saw an entire shelf of human grade dog food as she went to put up the bag she’d chosen. She eyes the boxes carefully and realizes she’d basically be feeding Rogue soup, stew, or some other wet food. This was too messy for right now, so she just grabbed a bright blue bag of kibble that had salmon in it. Rogue loved salmon which you learned after he’d stolen an entire fillet from the kitchen counter when you had your back turned. This thought reminds her of the only real requirement you had for your dogs’ food.

Something about avoiding grain-free. She couldn’t manage to remember the reason at the moment, but that mattered little as Rogue started to whine and nudge her hand with his nose in excitement. She decides to focus on him for now and hurries to check out. She’s going to try and focus on him today instead of herself if at all possible.

This is how she found herself sitting in a fairly crowded park with a bag filled with dog food, two new bowls, doggy bags, and jerky treats. Rogue had been good about wandering around so far, but Wanda knew it was never a bad idea to have treats when she took him on walks. He was sometimes triggered by someone running or something too loud, and the only way she’d ever been able to snap him out of his fear was with food or cuddles.

“Sorry for the delay, bud.”

Rogue didn’t seem to mind as he scarfs down his new food with gusto. She just rolls her eyes before pouring some water into the spare bowl with a sigh. She glances around behind the cover of her sunglasses and people watches for a few minutes. She follows a cyclist down their path toward the lake and to the gardens beyond before her attention is stolen by a loud squeal. She looks around for the source and nearly melts at the sight of a child, probably no older than 2 or 3, smiling widely as she reaches up for her father.

She jumps excitedly and Wanda watches as the man leans over and hoists her up high in the air. The squealing resumes as the toddler is spun around under the watchful eye of a brunette who’s following the duo with a stroller in one hand and a purse in another. Wanda feels a surprising pang of envy at the sight, and has to look away before she makes a face that might be misunderstood. She reaches out for her dog who’s now sitting beside her as he does his own survey of their surroundings. He’s panting as he stands up seemingly ready to continue walking, and Wanda just sighs in defeat. She packs up the mess before slowly getting to her feet with a slight grimace. Her pain meds have kicked in, but her side still aches with too much movement.

She’s probably going to regret this outing later, but for now she’s just going to use it to forget.

In the few minutes it takes to walk down to the lake, Wanda’s mind has already begun to wander back to you.

She follows dutifully as Rogue leads them around the water past groups of sunbathers and families having picnics. She only has to slow him down once when he starts to pull at the gates of the flower garden. She knows that she shouldn’t go in there since he’ll try to dig something up, but there isn’t a sign that says ‘no dogs’ so she doesn’t fight him.

As she follows her dog as he explores the grounds, Wanda thinks about to the last time when she truly felt free of responsibility.

Was it when she was in elementary school and she didn’t know what her dad did for a living? Or was it after, in middle school when she learned about the family business, but still had no idea that she was going to be the one to take it over? She had always assumed it would be her brother. That he would be mentored by their father until he retired.

She’d never expected to be orphaned and then thrown into everything.

Sometimes she was still surprised that she hadn’t run the business into the ground.

She wonders what her life would be like if that had happened.

Would she have still met you, or would her life have gone in a completely different direction? Maybe she would have had to flee and start all over with her brother.

Wanda hisses when Rogue yanks on his leash at the sight of another dog. She’s quick to redirect his attention and tell him to sit until they walk past. She gives him a treat before making a turn into what looks like a sea of flower beds.

“Behave.”

Rogue already has his nose in the dirt of one of the rose beds, and Wanda sighs in defeat.

“Rogue no. Come on.”

The dog whines but he continues on his way without additional protest. Wanda lets him wander around for a bit longer until she needs to takes a break. She needs to sit down and the first place she finds is luckily in the shade. She’s exhausted from her poor night’s sleep and pain, but she still doesn’t want to go home yet. Or rather to the compound.

She startles when Rogue jumps up to sit beside her on the bench, but she’s too tired to tell him to get back down. He luckily just sits down and pants as she closes her eyes and leans back against the bench. She grimaces when her shoulder hits something hard, and she turns to investigate, but she stops short.

“Rogue no!”

Her shepherd’s mouth is already closing around a colorful tall flower with so many petals it’s ridiculous. The pink scatters but a fair amount disappear into Rogue’s mouth as he sucks them down like he’s starving. Wanda stands up quickly and ignores her body’s protests as she quickly yanks Rogue away from the flowers. Wanda curses under her breath as she glances back at the ruined few flowers whose petals have fallen onto the bench. It’s only as Wanda traces their path and considers sweeping them away that she spots the plaque. This is what she must have been leaning again since the rectangular metal sign had raised letters that she definitely felt digging into her skin.

When she sees what it says; however, she stops breathing.

Foxglove (digitalis purpurea)

She’s been married to you long enough to have a running list of things that are toxic to pets. The most common ones that she can never forget are onions, garlic, grapes, and dark chocolate.

Some are more regional toxins such as a type of weed you told her about because you found the name entertaining.

Then there was Foxglove: a cardiotoxic plant.

Wanda quickly turns to Rogue when she realizes he’s still chewing, and she drops to her knees so quickly she shocks them both.

“Rogue, open your mouth. Spit it out now!”

Wanda wrenches open the shepherd’s mouth and he nearly bites her in his surprise, but Wanda grabs his tongue and does her best to grab the remaining soggy petals that she sees. She grimaces and then cringes when Rogue starts to gag and even more saliva and macerated petals fall into her hands or on the ground. She looks to the small pile on the ground knowing that it isn’t nearly all of them, and she curses under her breath before standing up.

She was already sweaty, but now she’s also shaking as she hurries to the closest exit while reaching for her phone. She can’t remember where the closest emergency vet is, and despite not being ready to talk to you, she doesn’t hesitate to call your number.

You’re in the middle of an appointment so you aren’t able to answer your phone. You don’t even hear it vibrate as you examine a dog that weighs nearly as much as you do. Well at least you’re trying to, but it’s difficult given that he’s just walking around in circles and pushing you around with his massive body.

“Do you think you could hold his leash while I listen to him?”

When you don’t answer your phone for a second time Wanda leaves a quick message before she calls Steve.

She is probably about a twenty-minute walk from the car and she’s not sure how long it will take to get to the ER. She’s panicking because she can’t remember how long it takes for signs to show up after eating the flower, but the fact that it causes heart problems is enough to nearly send her into a panic attack.

“Hey Wanda.”

Wanda barely greets her friend as she tries to explain what happened while she leads Rogue out of the park. He doesn’t understand her urgency, but luckily he’s keeping up with her as she rushes to get them to the car.

“Steve. Where are you right now?”

When he tells her that he’s about an hour away with Bucky, Wanda curses under her breath. She grows tense and ditches the bag from the pet store on a nearby bench. It’s slowing her down and it seems like she needs to hurry up.

“Can you look up the closest ER clinic for me please?”

By the time Wanda gets Rogue to the car, he still seems fine, but she doesn’t waste any time heading toward the hospital. It’s about a 15-minute drive, and Wanda makes it there in 10. She’s so worried about getting Rogue taken care of that she doesn’t notice how his demeanor changes immediately when he realizes where they are. He digs his heels in and she practically has to drag him through the front doors.

“I know, Rogue. I’m sorry, but this is on you, bud.”

It’s not until she’s facing a receptionist that she realizes that she just walked in here without a plan. She is luckily still wearing her sunglasses, but she nearly says her real name as she speaks up.

“Hi, my dog ate almost an entire foxglove plant about 45 minutes ago.”

The subtle widening of the brunette’s eyes confirms Wanda’s fears and she barely resists the urge to throw Rogue’s leash at her when she simply nods.

“Okay, can you tell me your name and your dog’s name? I’ll call someone up to triage him.”

Wanda gives them her fake name which luckily matches the credit card she has on her before she turns her attention to Rogue. He’s tense and his gaze is darting around the room at any sign of movement. When he sees someone come out from the back and head towards them, he somehow grows even stiffer. His ears fold back and he steps back immediately. The woman in scrubs seems to understand, and she just offers Wanda a smile before gesturing toward the scale along the wall behind her.

“Hi, my name’s Antonia. Can we see if he’ll let us get his weight?”

Wanda immediately regrets tossing the treats she’d bought because those would have helped a lot. She walks with Rogue to the scale, but he steps over it twice, avoiding it as best he can before Wanda has to bodily lift him onto it. She’d usually be more patient, but time is of the essence and this is likely important.

Once Rogue jumps off the scale he steps behind Wanda’s legs and tries to hide when Antonia reaches out her hand.

“92lbs, great. Now I’ll borrow him so a doctor can examine him and try to induce vomiting. Is that okay?”

That truly is the million-dollar question. As soon as Wanda nods and tries to step out of the way when she hands over the leash to the brunette, Rogue begins to try and pull away. He starts to thrash his head and whine in an attempt to get free. Wanda hates that she didn’t have time to ease him into this, but this wasn’t something that she could have planned.

She does her best to try to calm him, but he must know that he’s going to be taken away and he doesn’t do well with strangers. She reaches out for him to keep him from getting out of his collar, and as soon as her hands are on his back he starts to cry out in distress as he bucks against her hold.

“Rogue, hey, it’s okay. Rogue, look at me.”

She reaches out for her dog’s face and turns him toward her with as reassuring smile as she can manage. He’s panting and his hot breath is fogging up her glasses, but she keeps them on as she scratches his ears and kisses the side of his head.

“I’m sorry, I know you hate being here, but they’re going to help you okay? You need to behave.”

Almost as if he knows what Wanda’s saying, Rogue whines in protest before he throws out his tongue and manages to hit her injured cheek. She cringes but doesn’t hesitate to pull him close so she can whisper in his ear.

“I love you my sweet boy. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

Wanda stands up and when Rogue immediately starts to look around frantically, she grabs his leash with a small smile as she turns toward the very patient tech.

“I’ll pretend like I’m going with you, if that’s okay?”

The brunette hesitates but she second guesses it as she just nods and leads the way. She scans an ID badge and opens the door for Wanda to walk through. Rogue unsurprisingly isn’t very willing to walk through, but a firm tug and another whispered reassurance is enough to get him through the door.

Wanda tries to ignore the multiple people, at least two doctors, in the room and the pets they’re looking at. She doesn’t make eye contact as she holds out Rogue’s leash and starts to sneak out. Rogue doesn’t catch on immediately, but then he spins around and lunges as he tries to follow her. He nearly takes the tech’s arm off, and his anxious cries make Wanda tear up. She hates to leave him here, but he needs to be treated by someone, and you weren’t available.

Wanda’s hand finds the door handle, and she retreats before Rogue can get too worked up. She holds up a hand to him and speaks in a tone that he recognizes but only partially acknowledges in his heightened state of anxiety.

“Settle. I’ll be back. I promise.”

Wanda ducks out before she can second guess her decision. She forces herself to walk away despite how hearing her dog cry makes her want to cry too. She goes back to the desk because she’s sure there’s paperwork to fill out. After that’s done, she’s told that she should get an update as soon as a doctor looks at Rogue. She just nods before retreating to a secluded corner of the waiting room. She sits in the sun despite being hot because it’s the only way she can justifying keeping her glasses on. She takes them off briefly to clean them, but she doesn’t dare look around before slipping them back on.

She pulls her phone out again before trying to call you again.

“Hi, you’ve reached Y/N. Leave a message.”

Wanda sighs in exhaustion, annoyance, and defeat before she leaves you a slightly passive aggressive message.

“Y/n. I’m at the emergency vet on the East side with Rogue. Call me back when you get a chance.”

You get a moment to breathe about an hour later, and at this point Wanda has been briefed on Rogue’s progress, or lack of so far. You’ve had a hectic afternoon and you only just get to grab your phone when someone else pulls your attention away. You drop it back into your pocket to address the possible emergency that’s waiting in treatment. You haven’t even gotten to eat lunch yet, but the presence of a vomiting dog luckily helps curb your appetite.

Wanda’s sitting motionless as she listens to a doctor tell her about Rogue’s reluctance or simply failure to vomit.

“If we can’t get him to vomit, we can administer activated charcoal to try and neutralize the toxin. The problem is…”

Dr. Cohen briefly considers how difficult it was to give Rogue his injection of apomorphine. He was still very stressed and he attempted to get away from anyone who tried to touch him. He became an almost 100lbs bucking bronco and not only was this dangerous to everyone involved, but it was going to make treating him impossible.

She recognized the name that Wanda signed in under, but she’s never met you so she’s unsure of what you look like. Since time is not on her side, or Rogue’s, she decides to cut to the chase.

“Are you Dr. Y/l/n? I saw the name you checked in under.”

Wanda seems a little surprised by this question and she looks up at the blonde before shaking her head. She turns away because she can feel her face aching and she’s suddenly self-conscious about it again. She only briefly considered what people must think of her coming in here with her sunglasses on. Either she’s under the influence, or she’s hiding something.

“No, that’s my wife. Sorry, that would probably make everything easier to explain.”

Wanda offers a self-deprecating smile and luckily it seems to move things along. The doctor smiles back before she shakes her head despite her response.

“No that’s okay. I was just curious because Rogue’s not letting us put an IV catheter in and that will be important for what we need to do.”

Dr. Cohen explains how foxglove causes GI symptoms such as vomiting and diarrhea, but it can also cause a slow heart rate, arrythmias, and even death if it’s not treated promptly or aggressively. Since Rogue didn’t vomit, this makes things a bit more complicated, and higher risk. Wanda feels herself stiffen at the idea of her dog getting so sick and having to stay here overnight, but she pushes this aside. She’ll do whatever is necessary for him to be okay. She doesn’t care how much it costs or how long he needs to stay here. Although she knows that he’ll hate it.

“Typically, if we can’t place a catheter while they’re awake, we would sedate them. However, given what Rogue ate we don’t want to do anything to lower his heart rate if at all possible.”

Wanda just nods in understanding before she pictures her scared dog not letting anyone touch him. She isn’t sure he’s ever had to be hospitalized, certainly not since they rescued him, so she’s sure his vet experience was limited.

She takes a deep breath as she tries to push aside her terror at the guarded prognosis she’s been given, and focus on the now.

“Okay, that makes sense. Can I do anything to help?”

Dr. Cohen hesitates because what she’s going to ask is unconventional, but she was hoping that Wanda was a vet. The fact that she’s married to one at least suggests that she might understand protocols and how sometimes their goals and patient compliance don’t always align.

“I shouldn’t be asking, but do you think he would be calmer if you were in the room while we tried to place the catheter?”

Wanda didn’t answer immediately because although she was sure that she could calm her dog down, she wasn’t sure if it would be enough. She wanted to try and help though so she nods before standing up and following the doctor back to the treatment area.

“Okay, let’s give it a shot.”

Wanda immediately realizes how much the small team of techs have tried when she arrives to see her dog standing as far away from the duo as his leash would allow. They had different treats, an e collar, a muzzle, and what must be catheters and tape scattered around the floor. Wanda doesn’t have time to ask where they’d like to start before Rogue spots her and comes running for her. He barrels into her and she grimaces when he jumps up on her and bats at her with his paws. She swallows a curse when her side spasms before she shoots Rogue a glare he doesn’t see.

“Rogue, sit down.”

It takes him a couple of seconds to comply in his excitement, but he sits in front of her and pants happily as he tries to ignore everyone else’s existence. She looks down to him and holds out her hand with a small smile.

“Lie down. Wait.”

Rogue listens before Wanda turns towards the techs and Dr. Cohen who are standing by watching.

“How would you like to do this?”

After slathering a tongue depressor with squeeze cheese and offering it to Rogue to gauge his interest, Wanda reluctantly takes a muzzle that has some cheese spread across it. She was told that her involvement with this required extra precautions, and although she’s fairly certain that Rogue won’t bite her, she doesn’t have the energy to argue. She also doesn’t want to drag this out.

“Here, Rogue, want some more?”

It takes him a few seconds to fall for it, but when he does, he has cheese on his face and Wanda can move the straps behind his head and secure it. She tries to ignore how everyone is just watching her, and she speaks only to Rogue.

“Alright, bud I’m going to buckle this and it might make a loud noise. “

As predicted Rogue flinches a little but Wanda scratches his head causing him to look up at her between his furious licking. She keeps petting him as she looks to the two techs that have their supplies in hand.

“Tell me where I need to be so I’m not in your way.”

As Dr. Cohen watches her technicians get on their knees beside Rogue and his mom, she’s surprised by how knowledgeable the blonde seems to be. She figures it must come from being married to a vet, but she didn’t seem to trip up at all with this process. She wonders if Rogue’s had to be hospitalized before, but she realizes it doesn’t really matter. He obviously trusts the blonde, and he’s already getting his catheter wrapped as Wanda holds him around his neck and distracts him with cheese and kisses.

Once they’re finished and Rogue’s eaten all of his cheese, he stands up quickly. He shakes out his leg with the catheter briefly but he doesn’t try to go for it. Wanda keeps scratching him before her hand goes to the buckle behind his head. She turns to Dr. Cohen with a look that she can’t decipher past her glasses.

“Can I take this off?”

Rogue doesn’t seem too bothered by it, but that’s likely because his mom is nearby. She is about to nod, but she stops short as she spots the cone that’s still lying on the floor.

“Yes, but we’ll need to put a cone on so he doesn’t chew at his catheter.”

Also so he doesn’t bite us when you leave. Dr. Cohen doesn’t say this, but she’d be naïve to think that Wanda doesn’t recognize this.

Still, the blonde removes his muzzle before reaching out for the e collar. Rogue obviously knows what’s about to happen, and he starts before taking a step behind his mom.

“Rogue, close your eyes. Bedtime.”

Rogue immediately falls on his side and covers his eyes as he pretends to sleep. Wanda sighs in defeat and she rolls her eyes when she realizes this won’t work. She turns behind her to get a treat that she can use to lure him.

“You’re too smart, Rogue, but luckily you’re very food motivated.”

And dumb enough to eat a poisonous flower.

Rogue stands up when Wanda waves a treat in his face, and she tells him to sit again before holding up both the cone and the treat.

“Wait. No wait.”

Rogue lets her put the cone over his head before he lunges for the treat when she tells him okay. Wanda’s fingers are spared from the savage chewing that Rogue starts while Wanda tries to secure his cone. One of the techs comes up and helps her thread some gauze through the base of it, and luckily Rogue doesn’t protest too much.

“That went better than I thought it would.”

Wanda just nods before she realizes what comes next. She’s going to need to leave again, and it wasn’t until now that she realized why coming to help was a bad idea. Rogue’s already up on his feet and leaning against her heavily as he watches her expectantly. He must think he can leave now that she’s back, and the idea of leaving him again makes her chest constrict.

“It did. We’ll take him to the ICU to set him up for monitoring and fluids.”

Wanda nods before she moves to leave them to their work. She’s a little surprised when she’s asked if she’ll walk him to his run. The idea of him fighting them every step of the way is enough for her to agree.

“Okay, Rogue. Let’s go to your temporary digs.”

On the way, Dr. Cohen tells her that she’ll start supportive treatments, but monitoring for the next few hours will be important. One of the techs returns with a bowl full of wet food mixed with something black, ah charcoal. Rogue sniffs at it and when it’s placed in his run he just looks at it before turning back to Wanda. She just waves him in before reaching down to take off his leash once he’s inside.

“Go on, bud. Don’t pretend like your curiosity didn’t get us into this mess.”

Rogue allows the door to be shut behind him, and Wanda just watches as he eats from the bowl behind the window. She turns toward Dr. Cohen who’s watching Rogue eat.

“Thank you for your help. I hope to be able to call you with good news soon.”

Wanda just nods before thanking the doctor and heading back to the lobby. She’s exhausted and by the time she’s sitting back at the window the sun has disappeared. She reaches for her phone to call you again and when she gets your voicemail again, she’s torn between being angry and terrified.

“Hi, you’ve reached Y/N. Leave a message.”

Wanda waits until the beep before she signs audibly. She tells you that Rogue’s eaten an entire fucking foxglove plant and that he wouldn’t vomit. He was administered charcoal and was going to be hospitalized until they could figure out how he would respond.

She doesn’t even say bye before she hangs up and turns off her phone. She’s annoyed and saying it all out loud made her anxious again. She hates that she was so distracted, and she didn’t see Rogue try to eat the flower. She’s cursing herself for leaving the compound at all because despite wearing glasses, her headache is back and she’s so stiff she needs to lie down. That said, she doesn’t want to leave until she knows what’s going on with Rogue. She wants him to keep doing well, but she’s afraid that when her update comes in a few hours, that it won’t be good news.

She slouches down in her chair before sighing in exhaustion. She honestly shouldn’t have even left her bed this morning. She should have tried to sleep the day away to make up for last night. She shakes her head at the idea of actually being able to sleep. She was so on edge that nothing she did would make her sleep except maybe taking far more of her pain medication than she should.

She doesn’t realize she’s wrong until she’s awoken by someone shaking her forcefully. She sits up in surprise and turns immediately to see the technician from earlier shooting her a near frantic look. She sits up, not even noticing that her wig is a mess and her glasses are falling off her face.

“Mrs. Y/l/n, I’m sorry to wake you, but Dr. Cohen needs to speak with you.”

This doesn’t sound good and Wanda has to resist the urge to check the time as she stands up and nods quickly. She takes a moment to straighten her hair and put her glasses on top of her head. She may as well abandon this part of her disguise. She catches a glance at the clock and realizes it’s nearly 8pm. She’d slept for two hours.

She doesn’t get to wonder where you were before she’s standing in front of Dr. Cohen. The blonde looks a lot less relaxed than when she last saw her, and Wanda can’t help the way that her heartrate jumps and her entire body tenses in anticipation of what she’s about to say.

Wanda barely notices as the blonde reaches out to place a hand on her arm as her words register.

“Rogue’s coding, we need a decision about what you want to do next.”

Wanda sits up with a start as her eyes fly open behind her sunglasses. She looks around frantically before she sees a clock and determines that it’s only 7pm. She groans under her breath as she removes her glasses and cleans them off with her sleeve. She’d barely been able to see through Rogue’s saliva, and given that it’s dark it’s impractical to keep wearing them. Still, under the bright fluorescent lights of the lobby, Wanda can’t help but slip them back on. She’s certain of the impression she’s giving off, but she doesn’t care at the moment. She’s more concerned with keeping her identity a secret opposed to hiding her injuries. Wanda sighs in defeat as she lies back against the chair again and reaches for her phone.

She’d turned it off and isn’t surprised to see that she’s missed some calls.

She ignores them for the moment as she fidgets nervously in her seat. She’s wondering if her dream was a sign of what’s to come, and she can’t help but force herself to her feet to check in on her dog.

Wanda doesn’t make it to the desk before the sound of the automatic doors opening catches her attention. It’s mostly the labored breathing that makes her turn around, and she’s equal parts relieved and annoyed to see you looking stressed and out of breath as you hurry into the lobby.

“Hey, Wands. I’m so sorry I’m so late. How is he?”

You speak low enough for no one but Wanda to hear, but she still stiffens at the sound of her name spoken in public. She shakes her head before walking toward you and leading you back to her seat. She figures you can both check in on him once you have been given a rundown of what happened.

You seem confused but don’t argue as you sit beside Wanda and listen to her tell you about Rogue.

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything since they set him up in the ICU. I’m just worried since he ate the whole thing and I was only able to get some of it out of his mouth. I just…I hate this. “

You frown in sympathy as you watch your wife tear up. You watch her push her glasses up her nose before she gives in and pushes them onto of her head. You reach out for her with a questioning look and you try not to notice how she hesitates before leaning into you.

“I hate that I was distracted and let this happen. I should have just stayed home.”

Wanda’s crying harder now and you wrap your arms around her shoulders as hers fall to your waist. She hugs you back despite her aching side. That reminds her she’s probably due for more meds right now. Wanda sighs as she tries not to think about her poor dog, or how she’s still upset with you after the argument you had yesterday.

It seems like forever ago, but the irritation is still there so Wanda pulls away before she really wants to. You notice and you can’t help but sigh in defeat. There’s too much going on right now to talk about what happened last night. You reach out for Wanda’s hand and are grateful that she doesn’t tug it away. She looks down at your joined hands before meeting your gaze with a distant look.

“It’s not your fault. Rogue can’t help himself sometimes. He’ll be well taken care of here though, and we’ll do whatever he needs.”

Wanda simply nods as her mind wanders back to her dream. As short as it had been, it was jolting and making her consider everything she’d been told when she first got here. She thought about the forms she signed, that she’d barely read, and she sighs before turning and leaning back in her seat.

“Do you think I should have put him as a DNR?”

You hadn’t been expecting this question and your frown deepens as you think about it. Rogue was a young healthy dog, but if he coded it likely wouldn’t be while under anesthesia. It was during this time that CPR was the most successful, so if he happened to flat line while lying in his run, it was going to be due to the side effects of the foxglove. You hate that you can’t reassure Wanda that this won’t happen, and what’s even worse is that you won’t give Wanda a straight answer.

“I think that it’s your choice, Wands. He’s your dog and you know him best.”

Wanda’s tears begin to fall again and she cringes as she wipes them away. You glance at the bruising around your wife’s eye and it honestly looks much worse under this lighting. You figure that’s why she was wearing her sunglasses earlier, but maybe it was just part of her disguise. You watch as Wanda struggles to reach into her purse with trembling hands. You don’t realize what she’s looking for until you hear the sound of pills rattling.

“Do you want help?”

Wanda shakes her head but says nothing as she finally manages to open the bottle and takes two instead of one. You don’t comment and you wait until she’s swallowed them dry before opening your mouth. She beats you to it though as she squeezes her eyes shut and takes in a shaky breath.

“I don’t want to lose him, Y/n. I can’t lose him.”

You squeeze her hand again but don’t say anything as you both become lost in your thoughts.

You imagine that Wanda must feel as lost as you would if it was Boone who had gotten himself into trouble like this. You would want to do whatever possible to help him and you wouldn’t care how much it cost. You wouldn’t want him to suffer, and you’re not sure you would have done anything differently from Wanda.

You watch as she struggles to come to terms with her dog’s mortality for so long that you don’t realize that someone’s snuck up on you.

“You must be Dr. Y/l/n.”

You look up to see a blonde in a white coat, and immediately you sit up in recognition. This must be Rogue’s doctor. You offer a small smile before you stand up and hold out your hand. You don’t notice Wanda jump in surprise at the new arrival, but she recovers quickly as she stands as well. She’s anxious for an update and the appearance of Rogue’s doctor means that there’s something to report.

“Yes, but Y/n is fine. It’s nice to meet you Dr. Cohen.”

The blonde smiles in agreement before glancing to Wanda briefly. She offers a small nod before she motions for the couple to sit down. Only you do, but it’s brief before you’re back up on your feet beside your wife.

“You too. I have an update on Rogue.”

The doctor begins to detail how Rogue did well for the first half hour on fluids and pain medication, but he’s since started to show signs of toxicity. He’s had some GI upset and was obviously lethargic. His ECG showed that his heart rate had dropped considerably since intake. When you hear the numbers, you try not to react especially since you notice that Wanda’s watching for your reaction. She realizes that none of this is good, but she’s just not sure how bad it is yet. Neither doctor is saying it despite her desire for them to do so.

Finally, you frown as you recall what you know about foxglove toxicity. Mild cases are treated supportively, but you’re not sure if that’s where Rogue is yet.

“Is he starting to have arrythmias yet?”

When the blonde nods you sigh as realization hits you. This is what you were afraid of. You turn suddenly when you feel Wanda fall into you. She doesn’t realize that she’s swayed and is struggling to keep her footing until you grab her arm. You quickly help her sit down, but she’s not aware of what you’re saying. She’s fixated on the fact that her dog is having issues with his heart.

He could die.

You sit down beside Wanda a couple of seconds later, but at this point Dr. Cohen is gone. You asked what the next move was and she explained the antibody treatment that they luckily had in hospital. It was ridiculously expensive, but you didn’t care, and you told her to do whatever she could to help Rogue.

The bill could be as much as a car, and you’d pay for it without question.

“Wands, hey. Can you look at me?”

You’re on edge from the unresolved argument and trying to get through the day regardless, and that stress compounded with your worry for Rogue is making you near desperate for some relief. You still somehow wait patiently as Wanda struggles to pull herself from her spiraling. It takes a bit of coaxing, but eventually Wanda turns to you with her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry.”

You frown and you open your mouth to tell you wife that she doesn’t have to apologize for crying. You want her to do what she has to in order to cope, but you don’t get a chance to tell her this.

“It’s okay, yo-.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been dragging my feet. I-I know I need to—I need to get out.”

Your jaw drops but you can’t manage a response as you fail to process what Wanda’s talking about. Luckily she doesn’t leave you hanging for long.

She sits up and takes a deep breath before she squeezes your hand tightly. You nearly flinch but instead you meet your wife’s troubled gaze.

“I’m just scared about what will happen if I leave. What you’ll think of just me, but that’s…it’s selfish of me. I can’t let you be scared for me every day. That’s not fair.”

You hesitate because despite this being what you wanted to hear last night and this morning, you’re not sure why Wanda’s brought it up now. You struggle to find words and you’re still floundering when Wanda turns fully to face you. You focus on her tear-stained cheeks and the bruises that are faintly visible beneath her make up. She gestures to her face when she realizes what you’re looking at with an exasperated sigh. Luckily you can tell that she’s not upset with you.

“I mean look at me. This hurts like a bitch, but the worst part is that I can’t promise…I can’t guaranetee it won’t happen again. I don’t…”

Wanda trails off and you try to say something but you only manage a couple of words before Wanda keeps going. You realize that she has a lot to get off her chest and she wants to do it all at once. You don’t argue despite feeling that this isn’t the best place. That said, sometimes you can’t really predict when these things will happen.

“I don’t--.”

“I don’t want to fight with you. No-not now, or ever, but especially not when Rogue might…when he might-.”

You open your arms almost before Wanda falls into you with a barely stifled sob. You don’t bother looking around because you don’t really care if anyone’s watching you. You don’t want to make Wanda feel any worse than she already does. You’d rather figure out a way to make her feel better, but since there’s not much you can do about Rogue right now, you figure hearing her out is best you can do right now. You hold your wife tightly as she turns to whisper in your ear. You stiffen at what she says before you let out a heavy, relieved sigh.

“I just want us to be a family. Y-you, me, the fur babies, and a human one eventually.”

You take a moment to sort through your many thoughts before you land on what you eventually say. You squeeze your wife one more time before you pull back so you can meet her gaze. You hate to see her cry, and you hate even more that you’re not sure you can do anything about it.

“I appreciate you saying all of that, Wanda, but we don’t need to worry about that now. Let’s focus on Rogue, and revisit this when he’s home recovering. Okay?”

Wanda wants to argue because she wants your forgiveness so badly. She doesn’t want to be at odds with you right now, but she knows better than to believe that she should always get what she wants. She just nods before she looks back up only to realize that Rogue’s doctor had left. She turns to you in confusion, and you prepare to fill in the gaps.

“Where’d--? What did you tell her to do?”

Dr. Cohen returns to the ICU in a noticeably better mood than when she left a few minutes ago. She glances to Rogue who’s still lying on his side as he had been for the past twenty minutes. She sighs before turning to Antonia with a small smile.

“We’re going to start him on the antibody therapy. Can you go grab it while I calculate the dose?”

Antonia only nods before she jumps up and heads for the pharmacy to grab the drug. She’s glad that Rogue’s parents were able to afford this treatment because watching the shepherd’s heartrate drop over the past hour had been discouraging to say the least. The terrified dog had gone from sitting in the far corner of his run to pacing as he had vomited and had diarrhea, before he laid down and seemed to fall asleep. After cleaning him up a little, which he barely even flinched at, the shepherd practically collapsed in the middle of his run and stayed there.

She hopes that he responds well to the therapy. She’s seen dogs die from ingesting a single petal, let alone an entire flower…

It’s not until 10pm that you finally get Wanda to come home with you. After talking to Dr. Cohen once more after Rogue was started on the antibody treatment, you’re both told that it could take him hours to respond positively. They had approval to give another dose if necessary, and after being reassured that she’d receive a call about any negative changes, Wanda’s walking arm in arm out to the parking lot with you.

As soon as you step onto the sidewalk you feel Wanda sigh heavily as she practically stumbles to her car. She must be exhausted. You are and you only worked all day. You didn’t stress for the entire day like she did. You catch her hand before she can retreat to her car and drive herself home.

“Let’s carpool, okay? I can come back for my car once we pick up Rogue.”

Wanda doesn’t hesitate as she reaches into her pocket and hands over her keys. You unlock the door and watch as she collapses into her seat before you walk over to the driver’s side. You glance back toward the hospital with a sigh before you take a fortifying breath for the trip home.

You’re glad that Bucky’s already dropped off Boone when you arrive because that’s one less thing to worry about. You greet your dog with muted enthusiasm as you watch Wanda wander aimlessly into the house. She goes to stand in the living room before she starts to look around with a frown.

“Fletcher?”

You just look to the stairs where you hear muted footsteps, and you can’t help but smile when you see your wife’s cat rush toward her. Wanda doesn’t react to her immediately since she still semes dazed, but eventually Fletcher makes her presence more obvious. She meows loudly before reaching up toward Wanda with searching eyes. Wanda reaches down easily and lifts her cat into her arms with a sigh.

You just watch as she cuddles with her cat for nearly a minute before deciding that it’s time to eat something. You’d been busy all day, and hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. You’re certain that Wanda’s in the same boat, so as she seeks comfort in her cat’s presence, you and Boone head to the kitchen.

It’s only a few minutes later that Wanda seems to realize that you’ve left her, and she wanders over to watch you cook. She’s so exhausted she thinks that if she sits down, she’ll pass out straight away. For this reason, she’s probably going to need to eat standing up, but she can’t help but feel a little uneasy about what happens next.

You two are both back home after a long exhausting day, and the last time you spoke in the house was to have an argument. Wanda barely addressed the issue at the hospital, but as she watches you heat something on the stove, she’s worried she’ll need to pick up where she left off. Otherwise, you both will be in for an uncomfortable night.

She doesn’t realize that you’re thinking the exact opposite as you stir the soup in the pot in front of you. You don’t want to focus on your argument right now. Not when you know that Wanda’s mind is all over the place, and she’s distressed enough to breakdown in public. You appreciate what she said earlier, but you don’t want her to make such as important decision under duress, only to regret it later.

You turn around to grab two bowls from the cabinet, and you pause just long enough to see that your wife really does look stressed. Stressed and exhausted. You glance to Boone who is greeting his sister as she finally decides that she’s finished being cuddled. This inevitably makes you think about Rogue and how although he doesn’t seek out her attention, he’s been a good brother to Fletcher.

Thoughts of your pets makes you sigh slightly, and by the time you come back to the counter where Wanda’s standing with dinner, you decided to get right to it.

“I don’t want us to stress about anything tonight except Rogue. We can worry about everything else later, if that doesn’t seem unreasonable? I just think it will be easier…for both of us.”

You turn away before Wanda can respond, but when you return with spoons for you two, you see her frowning. Wanda’s deep in thought and she’s trying to push down her urge to resolve this argument now. She knows that you’re right about this though since every time she tries to think about the future she can’t help but wonder if Rogue will be in it.

Finally she sighs in defeat as she accepts a spoon and sits down in the chair she’s just been standing behind. She nods before watching as you move to sit beside her. There’s so much she wants to say to you, but right now she’s going to do as you ask and try not to worry too much about what’s on her mind.

“Okay. Until Rogue comes home then.”

You offer her a smile before the two of you begin dinner in companionable silence.

Rogue’s tail thumps against the papery pads beneath him as he blinks away some of his exhaustion. He’s not sure how long he’s been here in this run, but it feels like it’s been days since he saw his mom. Sure his perception of time was off from his frequent naps, and he didn’t feel well at all, but he was certain it had been too long since he was dropped off here.

He hasn’t tried to stand in a while. His entire body feels too weak, and the thought of mustering up the energy to even roll over made him nauseous. He glances out of his run to see the same blob of purple that has been following him since he got here. His vision is a little blurry, but the tech in purple scrubs who’s been assigned to him is always nearby. He missed the last check in when he was asleep, so he’s surprised when she comes up to his run a little bit later with another bag of fluids, a couple of syringes, and that dreaded thermometer.

He hated the thermometer.

“Hi Rogue. Are you feeling any better?”

Antonia has been watching his vitals carefully and things seem to be improving slowly but surely. Since starting the antibody therapy, Rogue’s heart rate has increased by ten beats per minute and his arrythmias were less frequent. Still, he was very weak and had spent most of the time sleeping. His fluids kept him hydrated when he started to vomit, and the pain medication helped him feel a bit better. The anti-nausea medication that had been given an hour ago was still taking time to kick in, or at least it felt like it.

The antibody therapy was administered every 12 hours, so Rogue had about 10 to show enough improvement to go without another dose. Antonia is still a little amazed at how much the treatment costs, but she’s not going to get too hung up on it. She’s just glad that Rogue’s family is able to pay for it. She just hopes that it won’t be in vain.

She saves the task of taking Rogue’s temperature for last because he hates it. Even in his sleep he seems to jump in surprise, and the couple of times he’s been awake he’s whined. Most of the time he’s been too weak to do anything else, but this time he actually yelps and his head, cone and all, shoots upright in protest.

“Sorry, bud. This is important.”

Rogue just grumbles in response before he keeps trying to shift. He manages to almost sit upright before he flops back down in exhaustion. He doesn’t completely fall back though as Antonia uses her free hand to steady him, and only a few seconds later, both of them are helping him sit upright.

“Do you want to sit up? Here.”

Antonia grabs Rogue’s shoulders and helps him rotate so he’s upright before moving his lower half to follow. She pushes him a bit against the side of his run so he doesn’t have to hold himself up. She reaches out to pet him before she gathers up her supplies and stands up to head out.

“Also, no fever, so that’s good!”

Rogue doesn’t look enthused from where he’s propped up against his blanket, and he just stares at her blankly.

Antonia feels bad for him, so she decides to leave him be. Although it’s not as obvious given how sedate he is, she tries to keep in mind that he’s a highly anxious dog. For this reason, she doesn’t linger, and she leaves him with water, replaced pads on top of his blankets, and restarts his fluids. She returns to the tech station to update Rogue’s chart just in time for the clock to strike midnight.

Her shift ends at 5am, and she’s hoping that Rogue will show more improvement by then. She glances at the dog whose eyes are now closed and sighs at she returns her attention to the screen in front of her.

She’ll just have to wait to find out.

Surprisingly, the most awkward part of the night for Wanda was not crying in the middle of an ER clinic in front of her dog’s doctor. Instead, it was the decision of where to sleep that night, or rather whether or not it would be appropriate to sleep in bed beside her wife. She had gotten ready for bed quickly given the late hour, and changed her clothes before she realized that you were in the room with her doing the same. You seemed a little less on edge about all of this, or you were just hiding it well, while Wanda was exhausted and a ball of tightly wound nerves. She hesitated long enough for you to understand her dilemma, but you only got into bed before pulling the covers back enough for the invitation to be clear.

“Come on, Wands. We need sleep. I’m sure you’re more tired than I am, and I’m close to passing out.”

Wanda’s skeptical look disappears before you notice it, and she just nods before she tries not to feel weird about being in bed with you. In the past, the two of you rarely argued for longer than a day, which meant most of the time you didn’t have to worry about going to sleep angry. She didn’t have to worry about not being able to sleep due to being upset with you, and she didn’t have to wonder if you were upset with her.

As of now, she really couldn’t tell and that was adding to her stress. She was considering if she should have just slept at the compound again when you reach out for her. You wrap your arms around her waist and sigh tiredly before shooting your wife a worried look.

“I’m sorry you’re so stressed and worried about Rogue. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you today.”

Wanda hears that unsaid apology behind your words and she sighs too as she turns to face you. She feels a slight pinch in her side and the grimace makes her head ache, but she ignores it for now. She focuses on you and how your concern becomes a contrite expression before her eyes. She watches you fidget a bit before planting a kiss on the exposed skin of her shoulder.

“I’m sorry about how I approached the conversation of your retirement. I shouldn’t have hit you with it so soon after being hurt…while you’re still hurt. I was scared and that made me selfish which wasn’t fair to you.”

Your head dips down as you try to hide your face, but Wanda reaches out to catch your chin. She’s frowning but she’s not even really sure if it’s more because of her own actions or yours at this point. Everything is so jumbled in her head right now that all she can offer you is a small smile.

“Honestly, detka, it’s your turn to be selfish given how long I have been. We’ll have a real discussion about what quitting would look like for us, but as you said, let’s just try and rest tonight. Okay?”

You can only nod in response before you settle in next to your wife. It’s nearly midnight, and you both have no idea what awaits you tomorrow.

The first time Rogue stands up after his treatment, he nearly falls over. He’s very wobbly and it’s very disorienting trying to balance himself, let alone walk with one paw in front of the other. He only makes it a couple of steps out of his run before he falls to the ground with a whine. It’s at this time that his walk outside is aborted and he’s steered back into his run by two techs.

Dr. Audrey Cohen stands by and observes Rogue as she looks at all of his vitals throughout the night. He’s done surprisingly well and his ECG has almost completely normalized. The occasional dropped beat is the only abnormality, and now of course, she realizes ataxia. That said, it’s hard to say how long this has been present since this is the first time they’ve attempted to take him outside. He has a urinary catheter in and they’ve minimized moving him since he was so critical. He’s not doing great by any means, but seeing him have the drive to at least try and stand and walk is encouraging.

Audrey looks at the time before considering how she’ll report all of this to his parents after rounds. She figures that he has a good chance of recovering, but the bloodwork that she’s about to run may tell her whether or not another dose of the Digoxin F-ab is warranted.

She waits until Antonia is finished collecting his blood before speaking up.

“I’m impressed with how well he’s doing. Maybe after talking about his case at rounds, we’ll decide if he need another dose.”

Antonia turns to her with a small smile before nodding as she stands after collecting her samples. She’s been working as an ICU tech for nearly 8 years, and she’s closing in on her self-imposed deadline to go to vet school. She’s applied for the current cycle, but she won’t hear back for a few months. She’s anxious of course, but she’s also grateful that her job offers her ample opportunities to continue learning. Especially rounds.

Typically, there are rounds between the technicians and then the doctors, but rarely do they do rounds together, unless it’s one on one when transferring care. Since expressing her interest in vet school a couple of years ago, she’s been allowed to sit in on doctors rounds whenever they have enough coverage.

“Sounds great. I’ll be ready. I only have Humphrey’s treatments to finish.”

When you and Wanda wake up, you realize that the distance you’d put between the two of you did not last through the night. You honestly don’t mind because it’s nice to sleep beside her again after the argument you’d had. That said, you realize very quickly that your hand is in the wrong place.

Wanda woke up a while ago, but she hadn’t been able to force herself to do anything but lie beside you. She was still exhausted after yesterday, and she didn’t want to spoil the peace that she’d somehow managed to find during the night.

Well, the source or the cause isn’t exactly a surprise to her. She has always slept better when you were beside her, but she’d been woken up by the pain in her side. The ache from her still healing wound forced her into consciousness and she had to stop herself from immediately moving away from your touch.

She did a great job up until the pressure became unbearable when you tried to pull her closer as you slept. She hisses under her breath, and she hears you curse before you pull back quickly.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

Wanda’s already nodding despite her grimace as she turns away from you with a sigh. She stares at the ceiling for a moment before turning to face you. She sees your worried expression and quickly offers you reassurance that she’s fine. Well, she could feel better, but her side doesn’t even hurt anymore now that there’s nothing touching it but her clothing.

“It’s okay, it was mostly uncomfortable. It’s time for my next dose of pain medication though.”

Wanda places her hands on the mattress preparing herself to sit up and grab her medication from the bathroom, but you beat her to it. You nearly fly off the bed as you hurry to grab what Wanda needs. The redhead opens her mouth to protest, but she falls short when her phone starts vibrating on the bedside table.

“I can get them. I’ll be right back.”

Wanda reaches out for her phone and frowns when she doesn’t recognize the number. She figures that whoever is calling her before 9 in the morning must have something important to tell her. She just hopes that it’s not work.

“Hello?”

Audrey was grateful that she was able to call Rogue’s moms with relatively good news. His bloodwork looked near perfect, and a second attempt to get him outside after rounds was more successful than the first. He was far more willing to follow someone outside until he realized that he wasn’t actually getting to leave. Getting him back into the building was difficult, but luckily Audrey’s plan was to get him out within the next 24 – 48 hours. Max 72, if she had her way.

She’d decided to call the number that was given to them at check in despite knowing it wasn’t the vet parent. She figured that it was the right thing to do given that she’d brought the dog in. If she was lucky, you’d be around to listen in as well.

“Hi, this is Dr. Cohen. I’m calling about Rogue.”

There’s a pause as someone shifts in the background, something drops, and someone mutters a curse. Audrey has to remind herself to keep a straight face despite being alone in her office. A few moments later she’s nearly smiling.

“Yes, hi. We’re both here, thank you for calling.”

Once you’re settled beside Wanda, you both listen as Dr. Cohen relays how Rogue has done in the past 12 hours. You’re glad to hear about his progress, and you can tell that Wanda’s relieved which of course makes you happier. You both agree that one more treatment would be a good idea, and they planned to check back in later this afternoon. Depending on how he was doing, they would be able to visit him. Wanda hoped that it was a good idea. Despite wanting to see her dog she didn’t want to make his stay any more stressful by seeing him only to leave again. You’d convinced her that a visit from her would make his day, and hopefully he wouldn’t be there for too much longer anyway.

After the call, you can tell that Wanda’s already a little bit brighter. She greets Fletcher with what the tabby deems appropriate enthusiasm, and she responds in kind by practically climbing Wanda like a tree. You stifle a laugh as you hurry to get coffee made and breakfast sorted. You feed Boone and then let him out before stepping back into the kitchen in front of the stove.

Wanda watches as you cook her an omelet, and she laughs so hard she nearly snorts when she watches you make another smaller one that she can only imagine is for your dog.

“For both of them, if she doesn’t touch it, Boone will happily help her.”

Wanda isn’t surprised that Boone scarfs up his ¾ of the omelet while Fletcher sniffs her portion suspiciously. She nibbles on it before she begins to eat with more intention. It’s just eggs, a small amount of cheese, and spinach, but that’s apparently enough for the tabby.

“Aw she loves it! How cute.”

You smile at this before you make yourself a larger omelet and sit beside Wanda at the counter. You sigh in exhaustion as you nearly collapse into your chair. You slept well last night, you slept great honestly, but you were still worn out. You’re grateful you don’t work today and that you can focus your attention on your wife and pets.

You’re not sure if Wanda plans to work today, but the fact that it’s nearly 9 and she hasn’t touched her phone beyond that initial call from the vet gives you hope. You don’t dare ask because you don’t want to be disappointed, so you two mostly eat in silence. Wanda’s thinking about what she’ll fill her day with while she’s waiting for news of Rogue.

“Do you have any plans?”

You’re still considering this yourself when Wanda asks you, so you shrug before mentioning all you’d come up with so far.

“Not really. Other than getting outside at some point to enjoy the weather. What about you?”

You wait with bated breath as Wanda shakes her head with a sigh. You noticed earlier that she hadn’t bothered with makeup today. Certainly not enough to cover up the bruise around her eye and the thin line of sutures from her surgery. It looks worse today and you frown in sympathy at the idea of Wanda being so stressed and hurt yesterday. You reach out for her hand and smile when she squeezes yours in return.

“Not at the moment. My face hurts more today, so maybe I’ll get to take it easy.”

You love the sound of this, and you smile widely as you consider all that you can spend the day doing.

Despite waiting anxiously for news, the day flies by with you and Wanda spending the morning watching TV before taking a short, slow walk outside. Boone was excited to get around, and Fletcher actually tolerated her harness and leash today, at least for a bit. For the last ten minutes of the walk, unsurprisingly, Fletcher had managed to get Wanda to carry her. You find it difficult to even roll your eyes when you see how happy the pair look, and Boone keeps you plenty distracted with his antics.

After forming a small pile near the deck of the many sticks Boone decided to try and carry with him, you lead your dog back inside. It’s nearing 4 and you could use another nap, or at least a snack. Boone’s on the same page, and after getting his post-walk treat, he takes it over to his bed and lies down. You grab both your and Wanda drinks as the redhead tries to take off Fletcher’s leash. You set the two glasses on the coffee table before falling onto the couch. You stifle a yawn as you wait for Wanda to join you.

Wanda’s just sitting down after wiping as much cat hair off her as possible when her phone rings. She starts in surprise and is about to jump back up to retrieve it from the kitchen, but you beat her to it.

“Let me get it.”

Wanda doesn’t argue, but she turns to watch as you walk to the kitchen and grab her phone from the counter. It’s the vet again, Wanda had saved their number after the call this morning, and you hand her the phone with a smile.

“It’s for you.”

TBC

taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #silver springs au #silver springs drabble

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elowhinn · 15 days ago

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HE'S SOOOOO HOT.

no lube, no protection, all night, all day,from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically,

horizontally,quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light,missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, 69, 96, mating press, spooning, camel ride, CAT ( coital alignment technique ), side by side scissors, the anvil, the pretzel, the squat thruster,the mountain climber, the plough, Watch this 1:02 for better inspection of our poses https://youtu.be/Tqjy-U07__A?si=BCr9RGMhUXgsC8k9 backwards, sideways, upside down, right side up,

on the floor,in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a roof, on a plane, inside the McDonald's, in a playground, outside the subway station, in Wendy's, in burger king, in domino's,in pizza hut, in school, on the school rooftop, on a train, on a mountain, on a space station, In a rocket, in a bathroom, on the moon, on uranus, outside the gas station in the car, on a motorcycle, on a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house,in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window,

have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheetgripping, knuckles cracking, body discombobulating, jaw dropping, hairpulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soulsnatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moaninducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, backbreaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lipbiting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feekicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, blackhole creating, whitehole creating, planet making, planet breaking, multiverse destroyer dick in my hole and mouth, multiverse maker cream, omnipresent dick, omnisucking the dick, light destroying, rice cooking, the relation between my hole and his dick are a perfect reaction, his dick and my hole are magnets, light destroying, molecule departing, fantasy creating, atom departing, discord server destroying, "im ending kiana with his dick", universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable,unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can'twalk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcanoerupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking,trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched,flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash_removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nailscratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain celldesolving, hair ripping, show stopping,magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid,phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride Rolling , pulling my hair, slapping myself, barking, dressing up as a maid, acting like a animal, jumping, screaming, kicking my feetbeautiful amazing spectacular showstopping wonderful awesome talented magnificent incredible totally unique never been done before jaw dropping majestic splendid heavenly gorgeous stunning fabulous perfect brilliant never the same excellent extraordinary phenomenal, in and out, up and down, twisty Rango, sweaty tango, back arched and broken, voice gone, back scratched, teeth clammering, knees bruised, neck? Marked, like placing a USB in and out of a computer, spanking, buttplug, vibrator, rose toy, kissing, making out, cuddling, massaging, biting, dildo, toys, whips, handcuffs, silk ties, ties, overstimulation, hickies, marking, lipstick stain, stained sheets, pretty pink panties, edging, orgasm denial, squirting, oral, fingers, blowjobs, titfucking, strap on, whining, groaning,singing, screaming and creaming , breathtaking, degradation, body worship, praise, sweet talk, coaxing,

cheirophillia, dacryphillia, lingerie, stocking, thong, wax play, roleplay, doctor play, priest play,king play,animal play,mafia play,manager play,Karen play,lube play, Unprotected sex, deflowering, corruption kink, first time, virgin kink, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, dirty talk, explicit language, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, rough oral, power play, praise kink, spit on me please, mouth filled to the brim with "milk", mirrors fogged up, glass fogged up, steamy and messy, thigh riding, phone sex, sexting, face sitting, handjob, pole dancing, stripping, moneyplay, fire play, electric play, collar play, leash play ,necktie pulling, ceramic play, feet play, oil play, foams mouth GRRRRR snarl BITE BITE MUNCHSJFHJSGRRRRRR BARK BARK WOOF WOOF WOOF GR TNGFMR BARK BARL BARK WOOF OWOOOO HOWL WITH ME OWOOOOOOOOOO BARK BARK GRRR......*sniffs* BARK

#tbhx #to be hero x #tu bian yingxiong x #tbhx x #凸变英雄x #elowhin rambles #hero x #tbhx hero x #cw suggestive #cw sex mention

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 months ago

Text

Class Act

Pairing: Josh Lyman x Reader

Rating: T

Length: 3.9K

Notes: This was supposed to be shorter. Oh well. Not beta-read, cause when is it ever.

Warnings: Fake dating; fluff. This is just fluff.

Summary: You’d signed up for the cooking class on a complete whim. You’d been tipsy after brunch, wandering through one of your favorite cookware stores. The signup sheet had practically waved at you, and you’d jotted your name down, secure in the knowledge that you did indeed have something to do for Valentine’s Day.

But what you had failed to realize, when you’d so smugly put your name down, was that it was a couple’s cooking class.

You were trying not to feel too goddamn awkward about the whole thing but—hell, this sucked.

It was bad enough to begin with. All of your friends were coupled up, and had apparently formed a consensus that if they didn’t step in, you would die alone.

Well, the joke was on them—that was already your plan.

But their repeated attempts to sign you up for speed dating on Valentine’s Day was as abhorrent as it was uncomfortable. You had managed to talk them down, to insist that you had your own plans. You hadn’t specified what those plans were, but they’d still backed down.

You’d signed up for the cooking class on a complete whim. You’d been tipsy after brunch, wandering through one of your favorite cookware stores. The signup sheet had practically waved at you, and you’d jotted your name down, secure in the knowledge that you did indeed have something to do for Valentine’s Day.

But what you had failed to realize, when you’d so smugly put your name down, was that it was a couple’s cooking class.

So there you were, surrounded by eleven nuzzling, giggling, hand-holding couples who were ready to feed each other whatever the hell it was that you would be making. You’d gotten a couple of odd looks, but for the most part, the couples were so wrapped up in one another that they hadn’t taken too much notice of the fact that you were there by yourself. Maybe that would work to your advantage. You made yourself busy with the laminated recipe in front of you, fingers fidgeting with the ties on your apron. God, this was going to be a long night—

“Is this, uh—Half of your table taken?”

The question caught you off-guard, and you turned to see a harassed looking man trying and failing to shrug out of his camel coat.

“N-no,” You shook your head.

“You’re not—” He cast his bright, coffee brown eyes around the room toward the other couples. “You’re not waiting for anyone?”

“Nope.”

“Great.”

“There’s a coat rack over there. Aprons are on the end.” You nodded toward it.

“Great.”

You watched him go, plucking up a hanger and shoving his coat onto it with muted irritation. Your brows rose at the way he jabbed it into the shoulders, tipping up the fabric as he did. He looked vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t place him.

You hurriedly turned back to the table as you saw hi turn back toward you. It wouldn’t do to be caught staring at the stranger that you would be spending the next couple of hours with. Maybe the time would pass in a comfortable quiet as you worked in tandem. It was possible that not a single word would be spoken between you—

“So how did you get roped into this?” His question was dipping with vitriol.

“Uh…” Now you were embarrassed to say. “I signed up.”

“To a couple’s cooking class?”

“Yes.”

“...By yourself?”

His tone was one part confused, two parts disbelieving, and it made you feel like a whole idiot.

“I didn’t read too closely when I was signing up.”

“Ah.”

“What about you?” You chanced a glance toward the man just in time to catch him grimacing.

“...I lost a bet with my boss.”

“And you’re going through with it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” You laughed. “Who’s your boss, the president or something?”

The man’s guarded gaze flickered toward you, and your mirthful grin fell away as the pieces fell into place.

“Oh…My god.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re Josh Lyman.”

“Yeah.”

“...Holy shit.”

“Thanks, I think.”

You scoffed a laugh before you turned back to your table, gently nudging the recipe between the two of you. He leaned in, his warm breath pushing against your cheek as he murmured,

“...Do I get to know your name, too?”

“Oh! God, yeah, sorry.” You turned, holding your hand out to him and introducing yourself. His smile lifted a bit as you pumped his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” You added, finally letting go of him.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, too.”

You turned back to the table, fingers drumming on the butcher block countertop as the teacher called you all to attention:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, all! My name is Amanda, and I’ll be your teacher. I’m so glad that you were all able to make it here this evening. Tonight, we’ll be making the recipe that was highly requested: Better Than Sex cake.” Her gaze swept around the room, a knowing smile on her lips. You almost wanted to shrink back at the speculative look that passed over you, Josh's mutter of, “Crying out loud," at your side.

“So! This recipe will need to be attacked as a team! I will demonstrate up here, so try to keep the canoodling to the minimum when the stove and oven are on. We want red-hot love, not red-hot hands and a trip to the ER.”

“...We’re gonna crush this, right?” Josh murmured.

“Why would we do that?”

“To show all of the other couples how strong we are as a team.”

“We’re not a team.”

“We are tonight. Besides, they don’t know that.”

Your brows rose, amusement swelling at the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“...You just wanna piss these people off.”

“A little, yeah. This holiday is bullshit. Let’s ruin it.”

You grinned, unable to help yourself.

“That sounds absolutely diabolical, Mr. Lyman.”

“You in?”

You might work terribly together. The cake could wind up being a complete disaster.

“I am so in.”

“Let’s begin!” Amanda clapped her hands together. “Now I know that we could take a shortcut here and use a boxed mix for the devil’s food cake, but there are no shortcuts in love. We will be making everything from scratch."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the comment, already reaching for the cocoa powder. You glanced toward Josh, brows knitting.

“Do you cook at all?”

“I’m very good at burning stuff.”

“Okay,” You nodded, “This is gonna be great.”

“Apparently you’re the optimist in the relationship.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“You know what, so was I. Match made in heaven.”

“...So can I ask what the bet was?” You plied, glancing over at Josh. He hummed questioningly, doing a double-take when he caught you looking at him.

“Oh, I, uh,” He huffed a humorless laugh, “I made the mistake of arguing with him on the outcome of the Mets-Nationals game. Last time I make an over/under bet with the president.”

“What’s an over/under?”

“It’s a bet on the points total. You’re, uh,” He smiled, watching you stir a saucepan of milk, butter, water, cocoa powder, and instant coffee together, “You’re not a gambler, are you.”

“Not at all.”

“Took a gamble on this cooking class, how’s that working out for ya?”

You glanced at him, considering. So far, it wasn’t nearly as awkward as you thought it would be. You actually had a partner to cook with, and he was pretty easy on the eyes, if you were being completely honest. You gave a small shrug, turning back to the pan.

“It’s already turning out better than I thought.” Your panic flared as you rushed to cover: “I mean, didn’t think I’d be making cake tonight. I like cake.”

"Yeah, cake is good.”

You glanced up at the sound of Amanda’s voice as she called out, “Whoever is not bringing the chocolate mixture together should be putting together the dry ingredients.”

“That’s you, Lyman.”

“On it.”

You watched him out of the corner of your eye, taking in the steady, sure movements he makes as

“...So, who won, the Mets or the Nats?”

“The Nats? Oh, god. Am I baking with a Nationals fan?”

“No,” You chuckled, “But you’re baking with the daughter of one.”

“The Nationals won.”

“You poor thing.”

“Keep that up and you’re gonna be making this cake yourself.”

“Do I hear a lover’s quarrel brewing?” Amanda asked, and it was only a second before everyone's attention landed on the two of you.

“No, no!” You hurried, slapping a smile on your face.

“My honey likes it when I tease her,” Josh tacked on, and it was so fast and sounded so natural that it nearly knocked you on your ass.

“Oh, look at her lovesick little smile,” Amanda cooed, sending a bolt of embarrassment shooing from your head to the tips of you toes. “A little passion will add spice in the kitchen. The rest of the class could take a leaf out of your book.”

You glanced toward Josh just in time to catch his smug smile growing before he went back to measuring and sifting the dry ingredients. You waited until Amanda goes back to teaching before you leaned a little closer, murmuring, “Quick thinking.”

“That’s why they pay me.”

“Not for your secret inflation plans?”

“Ouch,” Josh laughed humorlessly. “No. Definitely not for my secret inflation plans.”

“Now,” Amanda clapped her hands together. “We all have our cakes in the oven at 350—save for Gina and Marvin, but don’t fret, kids. This is how we learn about the importance of communication—in life, in love, and in the kitchen!” She shot a sickly sweet smile at the couple closest to her. You bit down on your lip to keep from laughing, but couldn’t help a soft snort as Josh murmured, “Gina’s head looks like it’s going to explode.”

You lightly elbowed him in the ribs, covering your mouth to hide your smile.

“We have a little time while the cake is in the oven, and I’d love to get to know who I’m baking with! Why don’t we go around the room—”

“Oh no,” You mumbled.

“And get to know a bit about one another! I’d love to know your names, how long the two of you have been together, and how you met! Gina, Marvin, let’s start with you two.”

“Quick huddle,” Josh murmured, scooching closer. He turned his head slightly, eyes set on the wall behind your head as he spoke into your ear: “How do you wanna play this?”

“Why are you asking me? You’re the quick thinker here, remember?”

“Yeah, but we’re a team.”

“So?”

“So it’s your turn to make something up.”

“I didn’t realize we were taking it in turns.”

“Gotta give to get, honeybun.”

“Are all of your pet names honey-based variants?”

“Would you prefer sugar-based variants?”

“I’m sensing a theme. Thank god we didn’t meet at a sausage making class.”

“Afraid you’d put the brat in bratwurst?”

“Lyman—”

“And what about you two!” Amanda’s voice cut through your bickering, snapping your attention back to the front of the room. You forced a calm expression, quickly introducing yourself.

“And this is Josh. We’ve been together for…Well, let’s see if Josh knows.”

A knowing chuckle from the other women rippled through the room, and Josh’s lips twitched with a smile.

“It’ll be two years next week."

You narrowed your eyes slightly. Two years, huh?

“How close is he?” Amanda prodded.

“Close enough, I’ll let it slide.”

Another knowing chuckle from the group, but you were too distracted by the way Josh’s smile widened, deepening his dimples as he stepped back to eye the cake in the oven.

“And how did you two meet?”

“At a sausage making class.” It was out of your mouth before you could stop it, but it was well worth Josh’s head snapping up in surprise. There were a few guffaws from the surrounding couples, but Amanda’s interested, “Aaaah,” Cut over the class.

“Then this isn’t your first cooking class rodeo?”

“Oh, hardly.”

“That explains why the two of you have been so in-sync. The trust that the two of you have,” Amanda shakes her head, “It really reads. Were you paired up in that class as well?”

“No, but the teacher suggested that we look to Josh for pointers. He was nominated as having the best of the wursts.”

You could see Josh pull his lips between his teeth, biting down as his shoulders subtly shook with laughter.

“Baking is a little more my thing,” You added, “But he’s getting there.”

“That’s so sweet. I cannot wait to see how your cake turns out,” Amanda grinned, clapping her hands together before gesturing to the next couple. “And you two?”

Josh shuffled a little closer as the class’ attention shifted, hip nudging against yours.

“You’re unbelievable,” He muttered.

“That’s why you love me.” You gave Josh a sickly sweet smile. “And whatever needs winging next, it’s your turn.”

“That was not bad cake.”

“No, not bad. The caramel, though.” Josh’s nose wrinkled as he held the door open for you, “So fiddly.”

“I thought you were going to set that last batch on fire.”

“Oh come on, it wasn’t that burnt.”

“Oh, yes it was,” You laughed, tightening the collar of your coat against the damp DC chill. You glanced down at the to go bag hanging over your arm.

“We should figure out splitting the cake up.”

“You can have it.”

“What? No way, I can’t finish this thing by myself. Besides, if you bring some in for the president, you’ll prove that you actually went through with the bet.”

Josh’s lips pursed as he glanced around.

“I hate to admit it, but that’s a really good point.”

You considered, glancing in the same direction before making yet another snap-decision.

“I live, like, three blocks away. We can split it into tupperware. That way neither of us wind up with an entire cake.”

Josh hesitated, shaking his sleeve back to eye his watch.

“Ah…Okay. Okay, sure.”

“Cool. I'm this way,” You nodded to the right, leading the way down the block. Josh’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, drawing you a little closer, and you frowned, glancing back toward it.

“Uh—”

“Amanda just came out and she’s locking up,” Josh murmured.

“Goodnight, lovebirds!” You heard, and you twisted your head, giving her a friendly wave.

“Night!”

“Lovebirds,” Josh muttered.

“Oh, be nice. She was very sweet, all things considered. She didn’t lay on the romance stuff too thick.”

“You didn’t think that was too thick? The whole…No shortcuts, or the importance of communication in life or love or whatever?”

“I mean, none of that is technically wrong.”

“So you’re a Nationals fan and a hopeless romantic?”

“No. I’m just willing to accept that there are certain things that make relationships successful.”

“Right,” Josh muttered. “Well, if you’re so aware of these things, why aren’t you in a relationship?”

Your smile faltered, and you turned your attention forward again.

“...Or is there someone and they fucked up so royally that you had separate Valentine’s plans?” Josh prodded. You shook your head.

“No. There’s no one.”

“So?”

“Well why are you single?”

Josh blinked owlishly, mouth pursed into a small ‘o’.

“Uh—I’m busy,” He shrugged. “It’s kind of a high-profile job, working for the president—”

“Brag.”

“—And the people I meet I’m mostly working with. Flirting is kinda frowned upon in the White House.”

“Frowned upon, but not explicitly against the rules?”

“It’s usually a bad idea, trust me. I’ve dated people I’ve worked with before, it’s almost never gone well.”

“Almost?”

“...Never.”

“Mm.”

“What about you? I don’t even know what you do.”

“I’m a paralegal, and there’s no one at work that I would date.”

“No? Not scoping out some handsome hot-shot lawyer who’s too busy eyeing a corner office to notice all of the love you pour into your memos?”

“Oh, please,” You scoffed. “All of the lawyers I work with are at least 60.”

“Older guys can be good. Nice and stable.”

“And looking for blondes in their early twenties that’ll look good yachting in Cape Cod.”

“I think you’d look great yachting in Cape Cod.”

“Well thanks, but I’m not sure they’d agree.”

“No interest in anyone outside of work?”

“Eh. I don’t know,” You shook your head. “Not really? My friends are all in relationships and they’ve been nagging me to get out there more, but it all just…Sucks. That’s how I wound up signing up for that class. I just wanted to tell them I had plans tonight so they’d get off my back.”

You fished into your pocket for your keys as you neared the front door, reluctantly stepping out from under Josh’s arm to lead the way up the stoop steps.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks,” You shot him a small smile over your shoulder as you head into the kitchen. “I’ll just grab some tupperware.” You shrugged out of your coat, hanging it and your keys up in their usual places in your entryway. You got a few steps down the hall before you stopped, turning to look at Josh. All of the other chances that you’d taken that evening had paid off, more or less. One more couldn’t hurt, right?

“Would you like something to drink?”

Josh looked up from his pager, brows raised in surprise.

“Oh—Sure.”

“Water? Beer, wine…?” You trailed off, taking another couple of steps back.

“Beer would be nice.”

“Okay.” You turned, adding, “You can leave your coat there,” as you hurried into the kitchen. You set the bag of cake on the counter before opening your fridge. Beer first, then tupperware. He’d stay for maybe half, you’d divvy the cake up, then bing bang boom, he would be out of there.

“Tell me another one.”

“No, god no,” You laughed, leaning back against your couch. “I’ve already told you too much.”

“One more,” Josh implored, scooching closer, his knee nudging yours.

“It’s your turn.”

Josh sighed, tipping his head back as he considered. You rested your elbow against the back of the couch and propped your chin up on your hand as you got a better look at him. With a beer in hand and his tie loosened, he was a far cry from the harried man that had asked to share your counter at the cooking class.

“Alright, I’ve got one,” He met your eye again. “The heat was out in the West Wing, so Sam—I told you about Sam?”

“Uh-huh.”

“He and I had the great idea to start a fire in one of the fireplaces.”

Your brow furrowed a touch. “That…Doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

“Well, it is if the fireplace is decorative and sealed.”

You spluttered a laugh as Josh shook his head with a grudging smile.

“Oh…Mr. Lyman.”

“Live and learn.”

You shook your head, leaning up to put your empty can of beer on the coffee table. Your eyes caught on the clock in the corner, and your eyes widened slightly.

“Oh—Shit.”

“What is it?” Josh twisted to see what you were looking at. He hurriedly shook his sleeve back, double-checking the time on his watch. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” You laughed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you this late—”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Let me divvy that cake up.” You pushed off of the couch, taking up your empty beer can and hurrying back to the kitchen. You really hadn’t meant to keep Josh there. Sure, it had been nice to talk to him, but it was three in the morning for crying out loud. You fished into your cabinet for clean tupperware before you pulled the cake out of the bag that you’d brought home. You heard Josh coming in, but focused on cutting the cake.

“Yeesh, you’re giving me all of that?”

“Equal division of assets.”

“Very generous of you.”

You smiled, plopping his half in the tupperware. You set the knife in the sink, raising your thumb to suck off some of the caramel that had caught on your thumb. You glanced over to look at Josh and froze at the sight of his eyes lingering on your mouth before his gaze flitted up to yours. You turned back to the cake, heat creeping up your neck as you set the top on the tupperware.

“You gonna tell the president what the cake was called?” You asked, desperate to fill the heated silence.

“...Probably just him that it's cake.”

“That’s wise.”

You took the bag that the cake had come in, setting Josh’s tupperware in it and holding it.

“Sorry again for keeping you so late.”

“You didn’t,” Josh insisted.

“I just mean—”

“I know what you mean, but. You didn’t.”

You nodded, letting him head down the hall. You stalled in the kitchen, putting your half of the cake in the fridge. You drew in a deep breath, steadying yourself. He wasn’t looking at your mouth like that, he was just—He was probably perturbed that a grown woman was sucking caramel off of her thumb instead of washing her hands.

You turned into the hall, slowing as Josh pulled his coat on. You tucked your hands into your pockets, wandering closer.

“You know, I’m, um…I’m sorry the Mets lost, but I’m glad you wound up at that class. That introduction round would’ve been painful to go through alone.”

“I’m glad you didn’t read the sign up sheet more closely.”

You laughed softly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I am, too.”

You stopped in front of Josh as he finished buttoning up his coat. When he looked at you again, you found the mischievous little smile that you were quickly becoming enamored with on his lips.

“How cliché would it be if I asked you out on Valentine’s Day?”

You blinked at him, stunned, as the question washed over you. Was he kidding?

“Well, it’s not Valentine's Day anymore, Josh. Hasn’t been for a couple of hours.”

“I meant to ask you out a couple of hours ago.”

You bit your lip to keep a grin from spreading across your lips. “But you didn’t.”

“You were talking about accidentally spilling a cup of coffee all over your favorite shirt, seemed like a bad time to bring it up.”

“Oh, so that was what convinced you to ask me out? The reassurance that you wouldn’t be the clumsiest one in the relationship?”

“No, it was the fact that I realized it was midnight, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

“Ah, so technically, I did keep you late.”

The tease was hardly out of your mouth before Josh crossed the short space between the two of you, cupping your cheek and catching your lips in a soft kiss. Your eyes widened in slight surprise before you let them slip closed, mouth working tenderly against his as you curled your arms around his shoulders. His arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you into his chest as he backed you up against your hall wall.

You let yourself hone in on the press of his body against yours, the slight nudge of his knee between your thighs, as his tongue teased gently along the seam of your lips. You shivered, parting your lips and fingers twining in the curls at the nape of his neck. Josh drew back slowly, nose nudging gently against yours.

“Alright, maybe you are keeping me late,” He murmured, “But I’m happy to be kept."

You tipped your chin up, drawing hiss lower lip between yours and giving it a gentle suck. He groaned, fingers tightening in your shirt as he drew back, resting his forehead against yours.

"Can I see you this weekend?"

You tipped your head back against the wall, fingers teasing around to his jaw.

"On one condition."

His smile widened as he turned his head to press a kiss to your fingertips.

"Name it," He murmured, voice buzzing against your palm.

"You find a sausage making class for us to take."

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ;

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ;

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ;

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @realwhoreforfictionalmen ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ;

@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

#Josh Lyman x Reader #Josh Lyman x You #Josh Lyman/Reader #Josh Lyman/You #Josh Lyman fic #Josh Lyman imagine #Class Act

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