Tumgik
#(it speeds your orders through. you can ask for things without being told to fuck off during a rush. they'll get you food on shift etc)
hella1975 · 8 months
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the closest ill ever get to being a pick me girl is the joy that fills me when the chefs at work so clearly favouritise me. like im there nicely cleaned up in my smart-casual uniform just a 20 year old waitress smiling my customer service smile and behind me spawns Scary Dog Privilege 10x in the form of several burly middle-aged chefs at least three of which have criminal records and would all stick a bread knife in someone for bothering me
#like it's really funny bc i worked HARD with back of house bc i knew my job would be significantly easier if they liked me#(it speeds your orders through. you can ask for things without being told to fuck off during a rush. they'll get you food on shift etc)#and also there's a stereotype especially in fancier places where floor staff look down on kitchen staff and i think that's shitty#so i was always going to be try with them and be nice but ALSO when i first started my job it was in a peak era so while these days#we're struggling a lot and have had to employ a lot of college kids that dont know what they're doing#when i joined it was all private school girls that would swan about the place very snootily. so the divide between front and back of hosue#was INTENSE when i joined. and there i was a little state school girlie and the chefs immediately recognised that#and took me under their wing. so even though the class angle doesnt exist so much anymore and theres majority state schoolers#im still very much in with the chefs in a way not many of the other floor staff are. and there's also the fact im not scared of them#like chefs ARE rude and a lot of them DONT like or even respect floor staff but i will GLADLY tell them to fuck off if i think it necessary#and that's a language they understand like ironically there's one chef that doesnt get on with ANY of the waitresses#(i talked about him on another post he's the soup one) but he likes me bc when he tried that rude dismissive act i told him to shove it#and now the other waitresses literally SEND ME TO TALK TO HIM when they have questions/want something bc they know he'll listen to me#and me and the head chef are besties and the one kp will talk OVER THE OTHER WAITRESSES' heads and completely blank them#so she can talk to me and it's all just really funny bc the kitchen staff LOVE me and that's not even me being arrogant#it's like a known thing at work that they love me and im just. a 20 year old 5'2 waitress with my little pearl necklace and blouse#and some tattooed ginger mohawked 6ft chef is there getting angry for me when i come in complaining about a table#or the kp that is literally on probation will give me a sticky toffee pudding and tell everyone to leave me the fuck alone LMAO#hella slaves to capitalism
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psiithirisma · 1 year
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AU where Phil is a single father of 3 and also owns a restaurant. Meets Kristin and falls in love but doesn't know how to "charm her" and neapolitrio (his kids) tries to help but they're little kids so it's all silly and cute.
Phil invites Kristin to a date in his restaurant after closing hours, she accepts. Then it's all just a nervous Phil + neapolitrio trying to create a romantic atmosphere and also one of them being the chef, one helping, and one the waiter.
He questions many /many/ times why he accepted to go with his boys' idea
Also, the 3 of them get Phil's instinctive dad side to show through the whole night by accident
little Tommy is the waiter and when he goes to ask them for their orders and is about to write them down he realizes he doesn't know how, so he asks Phil, who only sighs fondly and takes Tommy's notepad and pen and writes it for him. Kristin finds it adorable.
Tho the illusion is soon broken after Tommy thanks his dad and checks the notepad, frowns, and says out loud "dad I can't read this, your handwriting is shit!"
Phil, immediately: Tommy! Don't say that!
Tommy: what? Is true! You told us not to lie
Phil: no-
Tommy: am I not allowed to say bad things abt you in front of your girlfriend?
Phil: I meant don't curse.
Tommy: aw, that's not fair! you get to do it all the time.
Tommy: and Techno and Wilbur do it all the time when you aren't near!
Wilbur, from the kitchen: DON'T SNITCH YOU RAT!
Phil, whispering while he covers his red face: for fucks sake...
Tommy: see!!!
Tommy goes back to the kitchen shouting "Wiill, what does it says here? dad's handwriting is  dog poop!" which only gets more giggles from Kristin and for Phil to press his hands harder against his face.
That embarrassing bit over, Kristin and Phil move on and keep talking. But then you can hear from the speakers a young voice (Wilbur) whispering "it's this on? [Louder] Hello, dadza and Kristin! we made our own cool song for you lovebirds, wink".
It's followed by a song with really bad quality audio, bc none of them could figure out how to put a song properly so they just kept the speaker open meanwhile Wilbur leave the song playing through his cellphone.
This song is just some cover from an already existent one except for some parts being changed to Phil's and Kristin's name to, y'know, make it more romantic.
Phil considers death would be a kind fate at this point for him.
When the song ends, quick steps can be heard and the next second Wilbur is at their table, smiling wildly and asking Phil if he liked the song
Dad mode kicks in and all previous embarrassment almost seems like it never existed from the start
Phil: you have been improving a lot, well done, I loved it
Wilbur, beaming with joy: I learned it all by myself too!
Phil: wait all by yourself?
Wilbur: (intense nodding)
Phil: aw, mate! I'm so proud of you
Wilbur goes to the kitchen, celebrating after Phil's compliments.
Phil and Kristin go back to chatting, this time a little more at ease and without many interruptions, soft sounds emanating from the kitchen.
That's it until Techno shouts Phil's name and Wilbur is at the kitchen's entrance calling for Phil at the same time with a panicking expression.
Phil excuses himself and gets up from his seat at the speed of light to the kitchen. His ears are met by the sound of sniffles.
There, in the kitchen, he can see Techno kneeling in front of Tommy trying to calm him down while he holds Tommy's little hands gently.
Wilbur explains that Tommy was helping them cook by peeling potatoes but cut himself accidentally and now he's bleeding and they didn't know what to do nor where are the band-aids
Phil, being the only man ever, sorts the situation easily. Telling the twins where the medical kit is while he takes Tommy in his arms and washes the blood away with cold sink water, cradling him to console his youngest's sobs.
Soon enough Tommy it's all patched up (they only cleaned the cut and put a band-aid on it) but doesn't let go of his dad so Phil just kinda accepts this is his new lifestyle.
He's about to come back with the little blonde to his and Kristin's table but then realizes the woman admiring the scene from behind the counter. Phil is halfway mouthing an apology until Kristin seems to land on something and alerts them about the smoke coming from the stove.
They turn to look at it and oh yeah there's smoke coming from the stove oven...
When they open it, the family are met with more smoke that only gets Techno coughing and his face tainted with gray and the entire kitchen clouded. Oh there's also fire.
Kristin is this time who handles the situation, taking the emergency fire extinguisher from a wall near and putting out the fire, telling the twins to open the windows to clear the place of smoke.
After that Techno is already apologizing, embarrassed that he forgot about the chicken in the oven and also miscalculated the temperature.
But Phil just hugs him (the best he can without squeezing Tommy between them) and reassures him it's okay, that he appreciates that Techno tried and the only thing he cares about is that all 3 of them are okay.
Techno seems still unsure but any uncertainty he had is washed off when he feels Tommy's little hand giving him some comforting pats on the top of his head.
Wilbur breaks the tender moment by saying "unlike you pair of losers I did everything right so I think I just deserve a hug for awesomeness” which makes Phil laugh and both, Techno and Tommy, flip him off.
Tommy also shows him his tongue, y'know, for a double offense.
They get scolded (“kids, don't flip your brother off”) and Wilbur joins the hug, against Tommy and Techno's wishes.
Phil (with Tommy still in his arms) and Kristin return to their table, followed by two tired twins who just pull some chairs near them, sitting next to Phil, each on each side.
Kristin and Phil look at each other in silence, both tired but smiling.
“Pizza?”.
“Pizza”.
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heavyhitterheaux · 1 year
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Anxious Nights
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AN: ultimate boyfriend vibes 🥺💕
Synopsis: Anxious feelings come about when you stay in your new condo for the first time and your boyfriend comes to the rescue
Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader
Requested by: a beautiful anon 😘
Jack Harlow Masterlist
Warnings: mention of anxiety
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
Okay, I can do this. 
You thought to yourself for the millionth time that night as you looked around your living room of your new condo that you had just bought. 
It was a long time coming with your anxiety and scared of being able to branch out on your own and you finally did it.
It only took about 23 years, but you were still proud of yourself nonetheless and your boyfriend Jack was proud of you too.
He knew how much you struggled with your mental health and you were finally getting to the point where you were putting yourself first and not letting everything and everyone around you wear you thin.
It was around 10 pm and Jack had told you that he was still at the studio when you sent a text not too long ago to check on him. He was also sure to ask if you were okay since this would be your first night staying in the condo by yourself.
The studio wasn’t far from where you were, but the last thing you wanted was for Jack to drive in the rain which was now cascading down your floor length windows as you looked out of them to see the city lights and cars moving at a lower speed.
If you would have known that it was going to rain today, you might have taken Jack up on his offer to stay the night with you, but you promised that you would be fine because you didn’t want him to worry about you.
Except, he did.
And all the time.
He knew you like the back of his hand and he was literally just holding his phone in his hand waiting for a text from you asking for him to come and see you.
He decided that he was going to see you anyway when he was done at the studio because he knew that your anxiety would be going through the roof with how the weather was outside. 
You loved the rain, but it was the thunder that you didn’t like.
Loud sounds immediately made you uncomfortable and putting in your air pods didn’t help because you could still hear it.
You- Umm babe, I don’t want to bother you but can you come over when you’re done?
Smush- Of course I can. You need me to bring anything for you?
You- No, just yourself. It’s disgusting outside and I’d rather you come straight here then have to make extra stops
Smush- Did you eat yet?
You- 👀👀👀👀
Smush- Baby, please eat something even if it’s almost 11 now
You- Fine, can you bring me pizza then? I really don’t want you to be out longer than you have to be
Smush- I’ll be fine, be there before you know it. I love you.
You- I love you too
As you sent the text to Jack, a loud crack of thunder startled you and you immediately jumped almost ten feet in the air.
“I fucking hate this shit.” You simply mumbled to yourself as you made a decision to bury yourself deeper into the covers and wait for your boyfriend to arrive. 
When you finally heard a knock on the door, you tore the comforter off of you and basically sprinted downstairs to open it to see your boyfriend holding the pizza you requested and drenched from head to toe.
“Took you long enough! I thought you said thirty minutes! It’s almost been an hour!”
“They messed up your order so I made them do it again because I wasn’t about to come here empty handed without what you asked me for.”
“I appreciate it, I just worry a lot. You know that.”
“I know.” Jack said leaning down to place several kisses on your lips, you pulled away and immediately got a concerned look on your face.
“What?” Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Into the shower you go because Neelam is not about to blame me for you getting sick and not being able to finish your album. Move it.” You said while going behind him and pushing him into the direction of the master bathroom.
“But only if you join me, though.”
“Hmm, that sounds tempting.”
“And then you can get cuddles from me for the rest of the night and maybe just maybe the majority of the day tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” You said while going to run the hot water.
Jack was undressing behind you and you soon followed by throwing everything into the hamper for you to wash later.
Once you got under the water, you simply leaned back on Jack’s chest as he embraced you and you immediately relaxed.
“I’m here now so you know you don’t have anything to worry about.” He leaned down to whisper in your ear and you immediately smiled.
“And I appreciate you for coming to see me. I appreciate everything you do for me, and I’m sorry if I don’t tell you enough. I know it can be a lot being with me.” You muttered that last part and all Jack did was turn you around to face him. 
“Look at me. Anything my baby needs and I can give it to her, I’m going to do it. I just want you to be okay and to feel safe. It isn’t a lot being with a person that you know how to love correctly and you’ve shown me how to do that.”
“Safest place that I’m ever going to feel is in your arms as cheesy as that sounds.”
“That’s not cheesy at all, it’s how you feel and I always want you to feel comfortable to tell me what you’re feeling. And I never want that feeling to go away. I always want you to be able to come to me first with anything that you want or need. No matter how big or small. You weren’t dealt the best hand in life, so all I want to do is show you how you’re supposed to be loved.”
“I swear I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes, you do. You deserve everything good in your life and never let anyone tell you otherwise.”
The two of you stayed in the shower for another fifteen minutes with Jack making sure that you were okay before heading back downstairs to warm up the pizza that you requested that he brought while sitting on the couch watching Creed since you wanted to rewatch the first two before you saw the third one. 
There you were perched on Jack’s lap while stuffing your face and all he was doing was smiling at you. 
You felt his eyes on you and you immediately turned around to look at him.
“What?” You said as you grabbed your Hi-C orange juice box, a 24 pack courtesy of Urban and sipped away.
“Nothing, I just love you a whole lot.”
“Well, I just love you a whole lot and I’m happy to have you in my life. I don’t know how many times I’m going to say that tonight, but it’s true.”
“And I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”
The movie finally finished and it was around three in the morning when Jack turned off the tv, put the leftover food away, and picked you up bridal style to take you upstairs. You were knocked out cold in his arms and all he did after he got you under the comforter was kiss your forehead before going to the other side of the bed and getting comfortable himself. 
Jack wrapped his arms around you and you immediately turned around to face him and placed your head on his chest.
“You weren’t sleep were you when I carried you upstairs?”
“Nope. Just wanted for you to hold me close to you.”
“And you faked sleep when all you had to do was ask? I have literally been holding you all night since I got here.”
“And besides I didn’t feel like walking up here either so it was a win-win.”
“You definitely owe me for that.” Jack said as he rolled his eyes.
“Don’t worry, I already have some ideas in mind that don’t involve clothes.”
“Then why are we both still wearing them?” Jack curiously asked and you picked your head up to look at him.
You simply sat up and began to take off the shirt that you were wearing that definitely belonged to Jack and threw it across the room while leaning over to kiss him. 
“The less you talk, the sooner I can get started.” You replied while raising your eyebrows.
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
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gothamslostboy · 6 months
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Marko W/ A Werewolf Mate
DAVID MICHAEL PAUL DWAYNE
A/N: I FINALLY DID IT! Here’s the final part to the lost boys with a werewolf s/o series. This started last year when I made Paul’s post, and I really didn’t expect me to take so long finishing this💀 sorry to all my marko lovers that his took almost a full year to complete and enjoy:]
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Marko finds you while strolling the boardwalk
He had separated from the boys in order to steal pick up some new paints
He’s a little disappointed that you’re a werewolf for 3 reasons
He thinks the idea of turning his mate and “corrupting” them is pretty hot
It’s easier to understand his mate’s emotions and feelings if they are eventually the same species as him
He’s been told since the day he was turned that werewolves hate vampires and now he’s scared you’ll reject him for it
But he doesn’t let it stop him from overall being excited about finding you
It’s been a couple decades since he got a new mate and he’s extremely curious what your personality is like
Will you be like any of his current mates? Or maybe something entirely new?
Marko’s mainly just hoping for someone who can keep up with his shananigans
Pauls fun to cause mayhem with but he’s also clumsy as fuck and normally they end up kicked off the boardwalk
At least until they can eat the guard who bands them
While Marko is still thinking of all the possibilities, you manage to catch his scent
Immediately you start running towards him
He notices you and starts to greet you
But Paul caught your scent, and wanted to protect his boy
He ends up tackling you into an alley and holding you down
Paul keeps asking you why you were trying to attack Marko but doesn’t trust you when you say he’s your mate
Well at least until Marko throws him off of you
It’s safe to say it wasn’t the first meeting either of you expected
But once everything got sorted out, and Paul gave an embarrassed apology, it ended up okay
Paul left to tell David and Dwayne what was going on, so you and Marko got to talking
He asked you to help him get the paints, and with the extra help, he also got a new sketchbook and some markers
With your supernatural speeds the two of you manage to out run the security guards and end up hiding under the dock, huddling together in order to avoid being seen through the cracks
He looks at you and breaks out into laughter, as quiet as he could, until you can’t contain your own laughter
Both of you whisper about the successful haul, until the giggles naturally die off
Staring at each other without speaking, you take in the other’s scents again
After the moment passes Marko has an idea
He smirks quickly before stuffing the stuff into his “shopping” bag and pulling you by the hand
Together you flee the boardwalk and don’t stop until you’re about 50 ft into the woods near the cave
You ask him what he’s doing and he tells you to listen to the noises around
Focusing as hard as possible, you notice a couple things: rushing water from the creek, an owl on the hunt, various animals walking, and finally, a group of ppl laughing near a camp fire
He proposes a challenge, first one to get a kill gets to make the first move
You chuckle at the idea but end up agreeing, shifting into your wolf form and darting towards the group
Marko is a bit in awe of your transformation
He had never seen anything like it
He doesn’t let himself fixate on it for too long long bc he realizes that now you’ve had a head start
Going as fast as he can, Marko gets to the campsite just in time to see you pounce
“Fuck!” He lets out a playful sigh as he helps take out the group, making sure there isn’t any stragglers
He fakes annoyance as you shift back, gloating about your victory
Marko is about to respond when you lean in and kiss him
He pulls away after a few seconds and you guys spend the rest of the night joking and getting familiar, eventually going back to the cave and meeting the others
Date nights for you two tend to involve some kind of scheme or murder
You pretending to be a dog and luring ppl into the woods to kill, testing each others abilities and seeing who’s better at certain things, messing with the rest of the pack, etc.
Marko also loves to play fight, so thank god you both have advanced healing
The full moon tends to make you more playful and increase your sex drive, and Marko is more than okay with both of those things
The only time Marko is gentle with you is the night after a full moon, when you’re dazed and tired from the heightened emotions and sensations you experience
But he’s right back to his normal self as soon as your better
After a couple years he starts getting sad about your mortality, so you both go to Dwayne for help
He figures out the rituals and items you need, and you and Marko set off to complete them
If you thought Marko was a sadist before, well you’re in for a shock now that you’re not a risk of death
He likes to howl at the moon with you at night, even though he doesn’t fully understand why you like it so much
He wanted to know if you play fetch since he met you, but didn’t know if that was a rude question to ask or not
He goes to the boys for advice on how to ask you but David just gets up and asks you right then
Now it’s a game yall play as a group
After a hunt they take a limb and throw it as hard as they can
If Marko is trying to hide something from you, like a gift or a conversation, he tends to throw things in the opposite direction
Your instincts are to immediately go get it
After the 3rd or 4th toss you figure it out and manage to stop chasing it though
He also thinks it’s funny to jokingly call you “bad dog/good dog” at random times and laugh when you give him a dirty look and growl
Marko doesn’t think it’s as funny when you bury his things in retaliation
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TAGS
@crustyboypix @lazywerebat
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vctrvn-ls · 7 months
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The Spider
Imagine cancelling plans because you and AJ are both scared of the spider in the bathroom and can’t go in to get ready.
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It was an unusually sunny day in London.
It was the perfect weather for you to wear that lovely sundress you'd bought at your and Aj's trip to the country for one of his videos.
Today you were invited to a triple date with Kenny, Niko and their girlfriends who you were very good friends with, Marly and Sophie.
You were excited…more for the perfect-dress weather than the actual date, but nevertheless you still wanted you and AJ to get out of the house.
You laid out your dress on the bed, admiring it for a second before heading to the bathroom to start doing your makeup.
In the kitchen, AJ was busy eating watermelon while watching the news, as a joke...well kind of.
In the kitchen, AJ was busy eating watermelon while watching the news, as a joke...well kind of.
After moving in together you realized the apartment tv was just a normal tv. It just showed regular channels without being able to connect to Netflix, YouTube or whatever else.
Of course he ordered another one, there was no way he'd be able to live with BBC 1, BBC 2, BBC 3, BBC4 and however many other BBC's he had counted while flicking through the catalogue.
"So many BBC's." He told you "Oh look another one." He'd point to himself and laugh, earning and eye roll and a chuckle from you.
So, you were in the bathroom, focusing on your eyeliner. Squinting with your mouth open and tongue out in concentration.
Suddenly you saw something move with the corner of your eye. You finished the tail of your wings and blinked, before turning your head around and seeing the biggest long-legged...
Meanwhile AJ was fully hooked into the news reporter who was talking about a a big car crash that resulted in a car flying off a bridge in the suburbs.
"Holy shit." He furrowed his eyebrows, chewing. The descriptions of the scene were intense and very detailed. AJ was barely blinking from how fully into it he was.
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"
AJ slipped off his chair, landing right onto his butt, coughing and spitting out the watermelon seed he just inhaled.
You ran into the kitchen, one eye with makeup, the other completely bare.
"What the fuck?" AJ raised his eyebrows as he stood up.
"There's a spider in the bathroom."
"Why you yellin like that?" He huffed, putting his fork on the table.
"Why am I yel-" you cut your own words with a scoff "Go get it then." You pointed to the bedroom.
He rolled his eyes "I will go and get it." He grabbed his slipper and stomped to the bathroom.
You were so scared you didn't even want to go back until it was definitely dead.
You impatiently waited for AJ, chewing on a piece of watermelon that you stole off of his plate.
"FUUUUUCCKKKK!"
This time you were coughing up watermelon, while AJ speed bolted out of your room, shutting the door behind him.
"Did you get it?" You raised your eyebrows, leaning to panting AJ.
"What the hell do you think?"
"Yes?" You asked hopefully.
"NO! THAT THING IS MASSIVE!"
"Told you."
"You didn’t tell me!"
"Well go back and get it then genius!"
"YOU SAW IT FIRST!"
"You're the man!"
There was a small pause before the two of you cracked up, laughing at eachother.
"I-it's just like the meme," you wheezed.
"That's what I thought of too." AJ snorted.
"No but seriously go fucking get it, Aje." You cleared your throat, now being dead serious.
"There is no way I'm going back in."
"You have to."
"Says who?"
"Don't you love me?" You pouted.
"I do, but I'd rather live than get eaten by that thing. It's like twice my size!"
You chuckle "AJ."
"What?" He grins.
"I can't get ready if that thing is in there."
"Well there's nothing I can do about it."
"AJ go and kill it." You whine "Please."
"I'm sorry I literally can't. I swear I can’t. "
"You just gotta slap it." You begged.
"Then you go do it."
You shake your head. "You've filmed with things that were way worse." You pointed out.
"There's no way I'm going back there."
"What the hell am I supposed to do?" You pointed to your bare eye.
AJ shrugs.
You frown.
"...You know we could stay in and watch some Netflix." He said in a suggestive tone.
"Look at our tv."
"Well laptops exist you know."
You sigh.
"I can call Niko to come get it after they've had lunch."
You nod.
"So much for the perfect dress-weather."
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imagineandimagine · 1 year
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Satisfy You Taste Chapter 2
Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Reader
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The next day you had a meeting at Tommy’s office.
Tommy was angry beyond belief, “Have you completely lost you mind!? Is this your way of getting back at me for teasing you yesterday?”
You had this nasty habit of sharing everything that happened at the club with Tommy, so you told him what happened with Alfie the day before. You regretted it immediately, “It’s not like I invited him over! He showed up on his own accord! You said it yourself, that we have to keep our business partners happy!” you knew that that last sentence would come back to bite you in the ass but there was no taking it back now.
Tommy got in your face,“What you did was so reckless and inappropriate!“
You knew he was right but you were far too angry to listen to reason, “You’re making a big deal out of NOTHING! You think I don’t know that you’ve fucked girls in every part of our club!?”
“YES, but I haven’t fucked my BUSINESS PARTNER! There is a big fucking line between business and your private life!”
You sneer at the audacity of those words, “Are you kidding me! You LIAR! What about the time- !” a memory flashed before your eyes but you decided to talk about that at a different time, “I haven’t fucked anyone! Plus! That’s rich coming from you! ”
Tommy knew that he was being a hypocrite but he wasn’t about to admit that now, “So… What!? I wonder what else you intend to do to keep him happy. Are you planning on sneaking around and fucking him behind my back?!”
You slapped him across the face.
The slap somehow seemed to bring him back to his senses, he breathed in deeply, “Sorry. I deserved that.” He lit a cigarette and rubbed his temples “Listen… I appreciate all you do. It’s just that… I worry about you. Be careful. A man may misinterpret certain things if you bait him too much. His instincts may takeover...”
You crossed your arms over your chest, “You talk about him like he’s an animal.” You spat angrily.
Tommy chuckled “He kind of is. You taking his side already? Have I offended your beau?”
You have had enough. You turned on your heel and you marched outside in a huff and slammed the door behind you.
Tommy followed you outside, “For fuck’s sake! I was only joking! Where are you going!?”
You started to speed walk “None of your business!!” you screeched, not caring that the people around you were laughing at your exchange.
“It is MY business!!!” he screamed back.
You continued to speed walk through the city even though you knew how silly you probably looked.
A car started driving slowly next to you, Tommy rolled his window down, “Get in the car.” Tommy said calmly.
But you were having none of it, “NO!”you screamed with your fists clenched at your sides.
The car behind him honked but Tommy continued to drive next to you, “You’re a grown woman. You can do what you want but please promise me something… Don’t fuck him.” His tone was calm but desperate at the same time, “Please…PLEASE don’t fuck him. It will only complicate things.” He said with pleading eyes before he drove off.
You felt bad about the fight but you didn’t feel like making any promises to Tommy.
-
It was cold, you stormed out without taking your coat in the middle of February, that wasn’t a smart decision. You went to the nearest restaurant. You sat down at a table by the window. The waitress tossed the menu onto your table.
You looked through the menu, searching for something that would warm you up quick. You saw the waitress approaching you and that’s when you realized that you left your purse in your damned coat.
“Can I take your order?” the waitress asked with a sneer.
“I still need a moment.” you answered sheepishly.
The waitress was already suspicious of you when she noticed that you came in without a coat and handbag, but she went back behind the bar. You saw her call someone on the phone, and the moment she hung up, you could feel the waitress eyeing you. You hoped that she didn’t call the police on you.
A few minutes later the waitress came back, “Can I take your order??” the waitress sounded really irritated.
“Um… “ you weren’t sure what to do at that point. Maybe you could come back and pay later? You didn’t know what the restaurant’s policy was for customers who didn’t pay, there was no telling if they would make you do the dishes, beat you up or if they’d do something far worse.
The waitress started tapping her pencil against her notepad “Ma’am, if you don’t order something. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Unexpectedly you heard a familiar voice, “Now, now. No need to be so hostile. Maybe she needs another minute.” Alfie Solomons tipped his hat in your direction “May I sit with you?”
“Please,” you gestured to the seat in front of you.
“Thank you.” He sat down across from you, “In the meantime get me a whisky.”
The woman immediately changed her tone. “Right away, Mr Solomons.”
Solomons took off his coat before he made himself comfortable in his seat “I saw you in the window and thought that maybe you’d like some company.”
“Yes, um… the thing is…” you hated how tongue tied you always got around him, “It’s embarrassing to admit…”
He clasped his hands together and rubbed them “Oh, ho! You’d like to admit something embarrassing, eh? I’m all ears.”
You fidgeted in your seat, “I seemed to have forgotten my purse…”
He stared at you with anticipation in his eyes, “I was kind of hoping that your embarrassing little secret would involve something else…”
“I also forgot my coat…” you went on.
The amusement was gone from his face and Alfie’s expression seemed to darken as he sat back “Tell me… are you actually that forgetful or did something happen that made you leave your belongings behind?”
You bit your lip. “I had a fight with Tommy. I told him about what happened yesterday and he wasn’t very pleased.” you knew that you should have kept your mouth shut about that but you didn’t know how else to excuse the situation you found yourself in.
Alfie’s tone became serious and almost threatening, “Did he hurt you?”
You shook your head, “No! Tommy would never hurt me! Not physically at least. Actually…I’m the one that slapped him…” you almost whispered the last few words, betraying how guilty you felt about it.
Alfie’s good humor came back, something mischievous seemed to twinkle behind his eyes as he smiled at you.
The waitress brought the whiskey.
He grabbed the glass in a congratulatory gesture, “Another glass of whiskey for the lady! We’re celebrating!”
“What are we celebrating?” you said with a questioning look.
“That you had the balls to slap the great Thomas Shelby! This is a good day indeed!” He laughed. “It’s so refreshing to see someone who isn’t another one of Shelby’s puppets.”
The waitress brought you the glass of whiskey.
You felt better about your interaction with Tommy, you smiled and clicked your glass against Alfie’s.
-
Alfie paid for the both of you and when it was time to leave he draped his coat over your shoulders.
You were engulfed by his coat, the smell of leather and smoke made you feel faint, but you had to keep your wits about you, “Are you sure you won’t be cold?”
“Nah, I’m hot blooded,” he joked and winked at you.
You chatted as you made your way through the city. After a few minutes you arrived at your house.
You fiddled with your keys, thank god you had them in your dress pocket, “Thank you for escorting me back and thank you for lunch…”
“It was my pleasure! As I recall, you didn’t like the whisky you sampled yesterday, so perhaps you’d like to visit me in my distillery for a whiskey tasting? Here is the address.” He gave you his card. “Well then, good-day. Visit any time you like.” He tipped his hat before he walked off.
You entered your house feeling giddy. This sure was a pleasant turn of events. You put the card in your key box so you wouldn’t lose it, maybe you’d visit him tomorrow. You smiled at the thought. Then a realization hit you. There was a reason that you did not overindulge in alcohol, and that reason was that, to put it nicely… you were a ‘flirty’ drunk. Who were you kidding… you were completely feral when you were drunk. The last time you got drunk was the first and only time that you made out with Tommy, thank god Charlie came in crying with a scraped knee. After the two of you took care of Charlie, Tommy was eager to continue your make out session upstairs but thankfully you had sobered up enough to deny him his request. You were mortified when you remembered what happened the next day.
That’s when you had another realization… Alfie could have gotten you a cab but he insisted on walking you home just so he could find out where you live. That sneaky bastard. You hung the coat up and you cursed at your own naiveté and stupidity… you still had his coat.
Author’s note: Whiskey is for “business”.
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itsapeterthing · 3 years
Text
The Long Run || Bucky Barnes
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pairing: bucky barnes x doctor!reader
summary: after discovering that you’re bucky’s secret girlfriend, sam invites you on a mission with them. when bucky gets injured and you save his life, you give him news that will change the both of your lives for the better and bucky has a very important question to ask you.
a/n: this is technically a part two to Who’s She?, but can be read w/o the first; reblogs and replies are super appreciated!
word count: 4.9k
warnings: blood, bucky getting shot, mentions of bucky nearly dying, mentions of pregnancy, some swearing, angst, fluff
Who’s She?
masterlist || request || taglist
“Absolutely not.” Bucky told Sam. “No way. We have to find someone else to do it.”
“I’m sorry- do you have any other secret girlfriends lined up?” Sam asked, crossing his arms. “Because from what I understand we’re supposed to be doing this all under the radar and you and I don’t exactly have a lot of friends right now.”
Bucky stood his ground, staring down the man in front of him. “I’m not bringing her into this.”
“You brought her into this as soon as you decided to date her and she knows that.”
Bucky scoffed, rolling his eyes before shoving his finger into Sam’s chest.
“You know- I knew I should have never brought you back to my house.” Bucky said. “I knew I should have let Romanoff have you instead of bringing Y/n into this.”
Sam sighed, stepping away from Bucky, understanding that he was putting him in a difficult situation. Not even a month ago when Sam was shot during a mission, Bucky had brought him and Natasha Romanoff back to your shared home so you could patch him up. Until then, you had remained a secret to them- Bucky being sure to never even mention your name. He kept your relationship a secret from not only the world, but the team to ensure your safety. The last thing he could ever bare despite everything he had been through was for you to get hurt- especially if it was because of him.
Sam could understand. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid of the people around him getting hurt because of his choices. A part of him was envious of Bucky for being able to keep you such a secret, ensuring your safety. He understood that Bucky risked his only sense of normalcy to save him and that you- a stranger to him until that night- risked your safety to help him.
He knew he could only ask so much, but he also knew that you were the best choice.
“I get it, Buck.” Sam told him finally, placing his hand on his shoulder. “I know why you’re worried, but she’ll be fine. If I thought there was any way she could get hurt, I wouldn’t even suggest it, but she’ll be so far away-”
Bucky shook his head, crossing his arms.
“I’m not calling her. Find someone else.” Bucky told him finally, seating himself in a flimsy folding chair across the room.
“Fine.” Sam threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “I guess I’ll just find someone else to be our getaway driver.”
With that, Sam left the room, making a phone call through the door.
A half an hour filled with silence later, Sam and Bucky heard a car pull up outside the small abandoned building. Quickly glancing at each other, they both stood up, making their way out of the room and towards the entrance of the building. Without opening the door they heard knocking coming from the other side. Just as Bucky’s hand went to pull on the door handle, Sam’s hand stopped him, holding his wrist.
“Before-”
Glancing from Sam’s hand on his wrist to his eyes, Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. “Who did you call?”
“Look, b-before you get mad-” Sam attempted to reason.
That was enough for Bucky to pull Sam’s hand off of his wrist and yank open the door. On the other side he was immediately met with your face staring back at him.
Before you could even open your mouth to greet him, Bucky spun around to face Sam.
“What the fuck did I tell you?” Bucky asked, raising his voice. “I told you not to do one thing and you just go ahead and call my girlfriend.”
“There was no other choice-”
“How did you even call her?” He asked, voice still raised, cutting Sam off.
Finally Sam loosened up at the question, turning to look between you and Bucky. “Listen, that’s your own fault. Who doesn’t have a phone password?”
At that, Bucky threw his hands up in the air, turning to face you instead. You smiled, shrugging.
“I told you to put a passcode, baby.”
Looking at your smiling face, Bucky softened up, lowering his voice. He could hardly ever be mad at you.
“Doll, you shouldn’t have come.” He sighed. “You should go back home. Go enjoy your day off. We can handle this on our own.”
You had known your boyfriend long enough to know that he was only speaking out of love for you. The kind of love that drove him to keep you a secret for so long from even his own friends in order to protect you. Although you understood how he wanted to protect you, you also understood that Sam wouldn’t have called you if there were other choices on the table.
“Buck, it’s okay.” You assured him, tugging on his jacket to pull him closer. “Sam said that I’d be fine. Let me help.”
Glancing at your face and looking into what one could only call your “puppy dog eyes” he cursed to himself, knowing he couldn’t resist giving in for you.
“Okay. Fine.” He sighed. “But only if you stay in the car.”
Smiling you tugged on his jacket once more, pulling him down to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Buck.”
“I’m going to regret this aren’t I?”
And he did.
When he, Sam and an injured Natasha Romanoff were running out of an exploding building while agents continued to chase after them still shooting, he was truly regretting ever letting you come on this mission- even though you were only there to serve as their getaway driver and first aid kit for Agent Romanoff.
When you felt the rumble of the explosion shake your car and heard the gunshots going off you jumped in your seat, firmly grasping the wheel. You quickly glanced over your shoulder to see your boyfriend, Sam and Natasha running in your direction and you hovered your foot over the gas, shifting the car into drive.
“Go!” Sam shouted as soon as he got one foot in the door after pushing Natasha inside.
The second your boyfriend slid into the passenger seat you hit the gas at full speed, but before you could speed far enough away you heard one last gunshot sound off before you heard Bucky shout from his seat, swinging the door shut.
Still speeding away at the fastest speed you had ever gone in your life, you turned to face your boyfriend, feeling your heart race in your chest.
“Buck-” You started but before his full name could even slip out of your mouth you could see blood begin to soak the bottom of his shirt. “Oh my god!” You shouted.
“It’s fine-” He attempted to calm you down, groaning while holding his abdomen.
Hearing the commotion, Sam gripped Bucky’s seat, pulling himself up from the back seat to look at Bucky’s wound.
“Shit!” Sam swore.
As soon as the words slipped out of his mouth, Bucky swatted him away.
“You’re not helping, Sam!” He grunted, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back.
“Oh my God. Is it bad?” You asked shakily, meeting Sam’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “It’s bad isn’t it, Sam?”
All you saw was Sam’s eyes wide, staring right back at you in the mirror. Glancing between your gaze in the mirror and Bucky looking over his shoulder glaring at him, Sam shook his head.
“Uh-” He started.
Feeling your hands begin to tremble on the wheel, you glanced back at Sam.
“Sam just tell me-”
“Sam you better shut the hell up!” Bucky shouted.
Realizing that you had driven for long and far enough that the men that were chasing you were no longer still following you, you slammed on the brakes. You heard the grunts of Sam and a incoherent Natasha in the backseat and the muffled shout of pain from your boyfriend besides you. As soon as the car came to a stop, you threw your door open, climbing out of the car and stomping to the passenger side door, swinging it open.
When your eyes met Bucky’s he just shook his head, eyes wide. He knew that no matter how many things you saw in your time as a doctor that it would inevitably hit you differently to see him so badly wounded and he couldn’t bare to see you so upset.
“Bucky,” You said, laying your hands on top of his bloodied ones. “Let me see it.”
He shook his head again.
“Doll-”
“James.” You stated more firmly, gripping his hands. “Take your hands off.”
Knowing that this argument couldn’t go on for much longer without him caving in, he lifted his hands from his wound and when you laid your eyes on the bloodied section of his abdomen you couldn’t help but gasp knowing your boyfriend was injured this badly.
“That bad, huh?” He asked, groaning again.
You had seen plenty of injuries this bad, but you had been in a hospital and they hadn’t been on your boyfriend- the man you swore was the love of your life. Pulling your hands away from the wound, you could feel them begin to tremble as the horror of what was happening washed over your body, gluing you to your spot. When you looked up, rather than looking at Bucky, your eyes met Sam’s who was still sat in the back seat.
Seeing your eyes wide and your hands shaking Sam immediately made his way out of the vehicle to stand by your side. Your boyfriend’s eyes were still squeezed shut in pain and as you stoood watching him you felt Sam’s hands land on your shoulders to turn you to face him instead.
“Y/n?” Sam asked, trying to get you to focus your attention on him. “Y/n you need to breathe.”
You shook your head, staring at him with your eyes wide. You could barely choke the words out. “I-”
“Y/n listen to me.” He said, gently shaking your shoulders. “You need to calm down so you can fix this-”
As soon as the words slipped out of his mouth, you could feel your heart racing in your chest. How could he expect you to do this?
“No, no Sam I can’t-” You told him.
Resilient as ever Sam nodded his head. “Yes you can.” He said. “You have to. The next hospital isn’t for another thirty miles- it’s you or nothing. You can do this, Y/n. You fixed me and you came for Natasha-”
“That’s different.” You sighed.
“I know that, but there’s no other way.”
You rung your trembling hands, looking between Sam and your boyfriend still groaning in the passenger seat of the vehicle.
As you looked at him all you could think about was how you couldn’t lose him- especially not now. You needed him. You didn’t know what you would do without him. You knew Sam was right too- that if it weren’t for you doing something, he wouldn’t survive. You couldn’t allow that to happen. 
Taking a long, deep breath you looked up at Sam.
“Okay.” You nodded.
Sam released you from his grip. “Okay?” He asked, making sure you were willing to help his friend and when you nodded once more he smiled. “Okay. What can I do to help?”
You instructed Sam to go fetch the supplies that you had brought and stored in the trunk when he asked you to come in the case that Natasha would need medical aid after being held hostage by the organization they had just saved her from. Although she was barely coherent on the backseat, you knew that she would be okay compared to your partner who was currently bleeding out in the front seat.
While Sam fetched your supplies, you tugged on the hem of your boyfriend’s shirt, trying to ease it over his head.
“C’mon baby.” You cooed. “The shirt needs to come off.”
In too much pain to speak, he lifted his arms slightly, just enough for you to pull his shirt off of his torso and over his head. When you did, however his dog tags came off with it, slipping into his lap. Just when you were about to turn around to take the kit from Sam, you felt the familiar touch of cool metal grasp your wrist.
When you turned around you first met Bucky’s eyes before following his gaze down to his hand that was balled into a fist, the chain of his dog tag slipping through his fingers.
“What-”
“Take them.” He told you, sighing from the pain. “I want you to take them, Y/n.”
Staring at his dog tags and the solemn look on his face, you could feel your heart practically stop beating in your chest. Bucky had lived a long, complicated life- longer than most, but stolen from him at the same time. He had been given these same dog tags when he was sent to fight in World War II. Although a part of him had died during the war, he had survived to live decades more, the dog tags staying with him.
As he attempted to hand them to you, you realized that although he didn’t admit it- he was sure he was going to die in that moment. He had survived for over a century and because of this one bullet that he could’ve escaped from if he was just an inch to the right he thought he was living through his final moments. The dog tags had survived along with him all this time and you couldn’t bare the thought that he decided that now was the time to give them away.
“Buck, no.” You shook your head. “I can’t take those. You’re going to be okay-”
“Doll.” He said. “Just take them.”
You took his vibranium wrist in your hand and pulled it away from your arm.
“You’re not dying on my watch, okay?” You said finally, turning around to take the kit from Sam. “Now... there’s no easy way to say this... this is going to hurt.”
Bucky couldn’t help but throw you a lopsided smile at your resilience.
“How bad can it be?”
It was bad.
Due to you performing all of this on the field, you hadn’t been able to numb Bucky’s pain at all. Even though he had been through what he thought until now was the most horrible pain a human could ever experience, he could barely sit still throughout the entire thing. As soon as the first shout escaped from his mouth, you had stopped in the middle of what you were doing, glancing over your shoulder at Sam. Without even a word coming out of your mouth you and Bucky watched as Sam undid the belt from around his waist.
“Woah, wait-” Bucky began but before he could even finish, Sam was holding his belt in his hand, offering it to Bucky.
“Here.” Sam told him.
“What- I’m not putting this in my mouth.” Bucky said.
“Man, just put it in your mouth-”
“I am not putting this thing in my mouth, Sam. There has to be something else I can bite down on-”
You shook your head, sighing to yourself as you snatched the belt from Sam’s hand, slipping it into your boyfriend’s mouth. Eyes wide and not in a position to argue, he bit down silently.
“There.”
As soon as you placed the belt in his mouth, you went back to work on his abdomen. As you performed the procedure, removing the bullet and stitching up the wound, you could hear your boyfriend’s muffled shouting. You couldn’t help but cringe and feel hurt knowing how much pain he was in, but you also knew that there was no other way and you had to put him through this so he could come out the other side.
The pain was so bad at one point, however, that after a particularly nasty yell, followed by his legs jolting you looked up to see Bucky swing out his free hand to Sam which Sam took wordlessly. You felt guilty, but you couldn’t help but laugh when while you were still working on stitching up the wound you heard Sam shout.
“Y- you’re crushing my hand! Stop... squeezing.. so hard.”
When you finally finished, pulling your hands away from the freshly stitched wound, you glanced up at Bucky. You could tell immediately that he looked exhausted, slipping his hand out of Sam’s and opening his mouth to let the belt drop onto his lap.
“You can rest now, baby.” You told him, standing up from your kneeling position, wiping your bloodied hands on the cloth that Sam handed you. “Rest.”
As soon as you told him too, Bucky couldn’t help but allow himself to fall into a deep sleep.
When he woke again, he immediately realized that he was laying in a hospital bed and was hyper aware of the needles sticking out of his flesh arm.
His eyes immediately landed on your figure, standing on the other side of a glass wall speaking with a doctor. Suddenly the memories came flooding back into his memory of him getting shot and you saving him with the supplies you had on hand on the side of some abandoned, dirt road. Along with the memories flowing back into his mind, he could feel his chest become full, remembering how you had just saved his life- that you fought against your own fears of hurting him to save him. He had always known that you gave his life meaning, but as he sat there in his bed he realized that he was alive because of you.
Snapping him out of his own thoughts, Bucky heard a voice speak up beside him.
“How are you feeling-”
Before Sam could even finish his sentence, however, Bucky cut him off.
“I need you to do something for me.” Bucky told him, sitting up in his bed with a grunt, still sore.
When Sam heard the urgency in his friend’s tone of voice, he leaned over in his seat, pulling his chair closer to the side of Bucky’s bed.
“What is it?” He asked furrowing his eyebrows.
Bucky knew that he couldn’t wait any longer and he didn’t want to either.
“I need you to go to my apartment.” Bucky told him, giving him instructions. “In the bedroom there’s a safe. The code’s my birthday and I need you to get-”
“Woah, woah, woah.” Sam shook his head. “Slow down. What do you need from a safe right now? Incase you forgot you were just shot.”
This situation was probably the last one Bucky thought he would find himself in when he had first planned the event seven months ago, but he couldn’t stand the idea of waiting any longer. He could barely believe the words coming out of his mouth as he told Sam.
“The ring.”
Upon the two words that Bucky had just said, Sam’s eyebrows creased even more, attempting to understand the words Bucky had just told him. When it finally clicked, Sam leaned back in his seat throwing his hands up in the air.
“A what? Wait.” Sam said and Bucky was almost beginning to regret his decision as a smile began to play on his partner’s face. “You... you have a ring?”
Glancing at where you were still standing to make sure you didn’t hear what the two men were discussing, Bucky turned to face Sam nodding.
“Yeah, a ring.” He said.
Sam shook his head. “You’re going to propose?” He asked, then looked around the room. “Right now?”
Bucky knew that the hospital room he was in wasn’t exactly the ideal situation and when he bought the ring months ago he had ran through all the ideas in the book from a restaurant to a vacation, but he could never decide. In this moment, though, he knew that now was the time to ask.
“Yeah.” Bucky nodded.
Sam just smiled standing up from his seat. “Okay, okay.” He said, patting down his pockets. “I’m gonna go get it- God! I can’t believe this is happening, man!”
Hearing the door to the room open, Bucky glared at his friend, halting himself from having more words slip out of his mouth. Sam nodded, giving his friend a thumbs up before running out of the room.
When your boyfriend’s eyes landed on you and noticed you glancing between Sam and him while laughing, he rolled his eyes.
“What was that about?” You laughed, gesturing towards his friend running out the door.
Keeping his cool as always, Bucky shrugged. “It’s Sam.”
You smiled making your way over to the side of the bed and when you did, Bucky reached his arms out for you. When you sat yourself on the side of the bed next to him, you felt his hands rest on your waist while you played with the dog tags that were once again lying on his chest.
“I was so scared you were going to die, Buck.” You said in a hushed voice.
Seeing the downcast look exhibited on your features, he felt his heart break knowing that you almost lost each other.
“I thought I was.” He said. “The feeling was worse than... worse than when I fell.”
You sighed at his confession, taking one of his hands off of your waist- instead lacing your fingers with his.
“I- I can’t do this without you.” You told him, your eyes not yet meeting his, just staring at your fingers interlaced. “I couldn’t let you die, Buck. I need you here.”
“I know, doll-”
“No.” You cut him off, looking up to allow your eyes to meet his blue ones- the same ones you always got so lost in. “You don’t know. There’s... there’s something I need to tell you.”
Bucky’s mind began racing from the best case scenarios to the worst case scenarios. Were you dying? Did you not love him anymore? Did you find out about the ring? Oh God, maybe you did and he would have to tell you now even if he was still waiting on Sam to bring him the ring.
“I have something to tell you too.” He said, squeezing your hand.
You, however, shook your head. “No, Buck, let me go first. I have to get this off my chest. You almost died and the thought of you never finding out almost killed me.”
Instead of cutting in again, Bucky just nodded his head, seeing how serious you were.
He watched as you took a deep breath and a smile began to make its way onto your face.
“I’m pregnant.”
Bucky could of sworn to God that his heart stopped in that moment and it was confirmed by the beeping of the heart monitor beside him. His eyes went wide and he was praying that his mouth didn’t drop as he tried to process the information you had just told him.
You were pregnant. He was going to be a father. He was going to share a child with you- the best thing to have ever happened to him.
Going with his gut and leading with his heart, before his brain could stop him he finally asked.
“Marry me.”
Unlike your boyfriend, you didn’t need a heart monitor to tell you that your heart skipped a beat before racing immediately after.
You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about marrying Bucky so often it almost felt like a memory. To hear the words finally slip out of his mouth, you couldn’t believe it was finally happening to you.
Until you realized what situation the two of you were in.
He didn’t ask you out of love- he asked you out of commitment- or that was at least what you thought.
The light drained from your face as you scoffed pushing yourself off of his bed.
“Really, James?” You asked.
Confused by your reaction, Bucky stiffened in his seat on the bed, furrowing his eyebrows.
“What?” He asked.
You couldn’t help, but laugh at his naivety.
“You’re kidding me, right?” You scoffed once again. “You know- I thought you had moved past all this old-fashioned stuff. It’s not the 40′s anymore, Buck. You don’t have to marry me because you think you ‘knocked me up’ or whatever. Don’t let little old me hold you down.”
“Woah- what the fuck?” Bucky asked in a raised voice, genuinely shocked.
“-Because I don’t want you marrying me because you feel like you have to.” You continued. “I’d want you to marry me for me.”
“Do you think I want to marry you because you’re pregnant?” He asked.
Cooling down and wringing your hands, you nodded. “Yeah.”
You could tell just by looking at him that he was hurt not just by his gunshot wound that was still healing, but by your words.
He found it hard to believe that you could possibly think that he would only want to marry you out of circumstance and not because he had an undying love for you or because he couldn’t see himself living life without you by his side. You were the first thing he thought about every moment when he woke up and the last thing he thought about when he went to bed every night. You practically made the world spin round so how could you possibly believe that he wouldn’t want to marry you out of pure love and devotion to you?
Before he had the chance to say any of that though, the door to the hospital room behind you swung open and Sam stood in the doorway. Sensing the tension in the room he eyed the two of you.
“Did I... miss something?” He asked, focusing his attention on Bucky.
You shook your head, wrapping yourself in your arms. Just when you were about to excuse yourself from the room, you saw Sam holding his hand suspiciously behind his back.
“What’s that?” You asked, pointing at him.
Sam decided that the wall behind you was very interesting in that moment as he avoided looking at you. “Nothing.”
You eyed him warily and watched as his gaze fell on Bucky still sat in the hospital bed.
“Sam...” You said.
“What?” He replied. “There’s nothing behind my back. I just... like... putting my hand... there.”
You watched your boyfriend sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Glancing between the two men, you reached behind Sam’s back and stole the box from his hands. As soon as your eyes met the small, black velvet box you felt all the air escape your body. You looked at your boyfriend before opening the box.
Inside sat a beautiful diamond ring.
“... Buck?” You asked, slowly stepping towards him.
He gave you a soft smile. “If you don’t like it you can tell me. I picked it out with Steve-”
“You picked it out with Steve?” You asked, smiling. “That means...”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Picked it out seven months ago... before...”
You knew what he meant- before his best friend decided to leave the modern age to go back to the forties, leaving Bucky here. Although you knew is was a hard topic to discuss, knowing the truth lifted a weight off of your chest. He didn’t propose to you in the heat of the moment because you were pregnant- he had been planning on proposing to you for over half a year. Not only was he planning on proposing for that long, but before you told him you were pregnant he must of asked Sam to pick up the ring.
You felt guilty for yelling at him earlier and for believing that he didn’t have your best intentions in mind, but overall you were just so overjoyed to know that you were going to spend the rest of your life with the man in front of you.
“I love you.” You told him in a hushed voice, sitting yourself back down on the side of his bed.
“Is that a yes?” He asked, gently taking the box out of your hand.
You couldn't help but smile.
“Yes.” You laughed. “Of course I’ll marry you.”
Although Bucky Barnes was known for his infamous glare, he couldn’t help but smile in that moment, the pieces in his life finally falling into place after all this time. He couldn’t possibly be happier.
When he finally tore his eyes away from your smiling face that he swore would rival any goddess’, he shakily took the ring out of the box, took your left hand in his vibranium one and slipped the diamond engagement ring over your ring finger.
Before you could let him say another word, you leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands and kissed him. You couldn’t help but laugh into the kiss, so filled with love and joy that you could barely contain it.
When you finally pulled away, you still couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, so wide it almost hurt your cheeks.
As the smile fell from your boyfriend’s face you furrowed your eyebrows.
“What is it?” You asked him, fiddling with engagement ring on your finger.
“Did....” He began glancing between a still silent Sam and you. “Did you agree to go on a mission when you knew you were pregnant?”
Instead of meeting your boyfriend- no- fiancé’s eyes, you decided to admire your ring. “Uh...”
Bucky didn’t have a chance to press you further on the topic when the other man standing beside you’s voice rang through the room.
“Wait! You’re pregnant?”
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Text
Draw your swords, pt. 6
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Summary: Losing someone can make you realize what was already there and the Darkling is about to find that out the hard way.
Warnings: angst, violence, swearing, bit of fluff
Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five  
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Five days have passed and the Darkling had never stopped looking for his wife. His men never saw him rest, sleep was simply never on his agenda. He barely ate at all, merely giving time for the rest of them to gather their strength.
He was restless, constantly questioning how this could have happened. No matter how he looked at it, the Darkling felt guilt consuming him. Without his rage, he worried the guilt would have paralyzed him. Had he not went on a pointless hunt for something that’s likely a tale, she would have been right by his side, antagonizing him.
It’s been hundreds of years since he felt this way, as if his heartstrings are being pulled by someone other than himself. In this search for Y/N, he realized she is consuming. After all, she might have been right – a part of him may actually care for her. He cursed that part of himself over and over again as result.
They’ve tracked her toward Fjerdan borders. Every now and then, they would find bodies on the road, their throat cut or stabbed right through the heart. Sometimes, he found them alive still. He never refrained from calling on his shadows, trying to draw useful information to close in on their whereabouts.
Y/N never saw him use his shadows before. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d disapprove of the means he’s using to find her. After all, she called him a demon on their wedding night. She would never accept him as he is, he had no doubt about that.
Did she want to be found by him?
The first body they found, the Darkling smiled. He didn’t question it was her hands who have taken the man’s life. There was no concrete proof, but he was certain of it. Every body found felt like her own version of breadcrumbs.
Closing his eyes, he exhaled heavily. If she managed to set herself free so many times to leave what was now five dead men behind, he couldn’t help but worry for her safety. What was the price of each crumb she left?
It wasn’t just the exposure to snow he worried about – and he did worry as she got cold too quickly and he was the one to warm her up before. Who’d warm her up now?
The darkness of the forest gave him cause to worry too – she may have tried to hide it, but he knew she was afraid of the dark. He realized it when her breathing turned shallow and fast their first night together just as she extinguished the candlelight. The next night, he left his candle to burn long into the night.
Something stirred inside him, a beast has awakened. Despite the war his heart and mind waged, he wondered if he’s his own worst enemy. Maybe it was time to let someone in. For too long, he had been alone in the shadows of his past lives.
Why is he repeating the same mistakes?
How can he be afraid when he married a woman who never blinks in the face of danger?
His heart was ice and stone until she came and now the ice has started to melt. All he’s done is hurt and destroy, but he wanted out of the loneliness that clings to him.
She was right, as hard as it is to admit it. He’s a demon, a devil that walks the earth and he cares. Because of her he hopes he might love again and he can’t let anyone take that from him – hope is the only thing stronger than fear. And when a devil falls in love and discovers hope, it’s the most hauntingly beautiful sight. They should fear him as he will go to the depths of hell to protect her.
While his eyes may have been closed, his heart jumped as a bright flash forced him to open them again.
He was never given a chance to be soft. His hands had to be bloody, to have people fear him. Only when they feared him, they wouldn’t hurt him. Now was the time to show them just why they fear him.
“Where?” He growled out, looking to Ivan and Fedyor who were looking at the sky.
“East”, Fedyor replied hastily, ready to follow Kirigan who set off in said direction without a second thought. He didn’t order anyone to follow, but they did.
Ivan and Fedyor walked two steps behind their general, alert as the flash had awakened them from a deep slumber. They weren’t the only ones shaken, unsure what they’re walking into but none showed fear as their general lead them straight to the source. Their loyalty, their belief in general Kirigan runs deep.
Except for David. He was afraid. He didn’t want to be in that forest and he didn’t want to be in danger, but he trusted Kirigan. Besides, Y/N was nice and Genya seemed to like her. So he came along too.
Kirigan walked in strides, the snow didn’t slow him down. His hands formed fists, his face twisted in anger, but his heart pounded in his chest as he had no inkling what he might find. All he knew was that he had to get there, fast.
As if made of darkness itself, the Darkling emerged on what looked like a battlefield. The trees surrounded a small clearing covered in snow that melted under the spilled blood – still warm as it poured from the dead surrounding her.
She’s on her knees, two Fjerdans chaining her up as if she’s a wild animal.
“You think you’re scary, huh?” She spat at the Fjerdan’s feet – a crimson liquid, Darkling realized. She’s bleeding.  
“That’s adorable”, she chuckled maniacally as she held her fierce gaze on the Fjerdan stood before her. They pulled her left hand behind her back and her right hand in front as they tightened the chains that were secured over rope that laid just beneath.
Darkling’s blood boiled. It is fear that brings rage, that hot burning anger that seeks to harm. Once again, he was afraid, not of her but for her.
Four more Fjerdans came from behind the trees, all covered in blood. “Fucking bitch”, one of them kicked her in the ribs and he couldn’t take anymore. He could kill them easily for what they’ve done – he’s killed every one of them he ran into in the past five days without even blinking, regardless if they were involved in her disappearance or not.
“Mister, I’ve seen scary and you don’t have his handsome smile.”
Licking his lips, the Darkling nearly smiles at her remark. There’s no possible way she means anyone else but him. Looking at his Grisha, he found them nearly all in position. They would attack in a minute, swiftly and deadly.
Yet in a moment of carelessness, he missed the Fjerdans realization they’re being watched. Too quickly, more of them appeared. The pitiful human managed to land a few consecutive blows to Darkling’s face before drawing a dagger.
Angry, dark eyes showed the Fjerdan that the Darkling’s brain is in a different mode, that he has switched gears from empathy he had for his wife to cold emotional indifference. Never once has he directed this mode in Y/N’s direction, yet it emerged when he sensed a threat to her life, letting out a part of him that was full on protective.
Grunting, the Darkling’s eyes narrowed at the human who dared to sink the blade into his heart. Despite his immortality, he could still hurt. The pain of a stab wound felt just as it would if here as fragile as the human before him.
But he’s not human at all.
Connecting his hands, the Darkling lifts his head as he summons the darkness that spills from every corner of the forest. “Foolish”, he sneers, “Attacking me in the dark?” The Darkling smirked, walking past the petrified Fjerdan, allowing his shadows to administer a thousand cuts for his transgression.
As he walked toward the middle of the circle, his shadows followed, aiding his Grisha in taking the rest of the Fjerdans so quickly that Y/N gasped.
Looking around in shock, she found Kirigan kneeling beside her.
“You have a knife”, she coughed into her shoulder, “A knife in your chest.”
“I promised”, he gasped for breath as he pulled the knife from his chest. “That I would protect you and I intend to keep the damn promise.”
On the brink of tears, her lips quivered before she laughed. “I thought you’d let them kill me.” Better to laugh than cry, she thought.
Frowning, he shook his head. “That would be too easy”, he waved David over who stood at the tree line, wide eyed. “If anyone’s going to kill you, it should be me.”
Even with tears blurring her vision, she giggled at his stupid remark. She had tried so hard to free herself.
It wasn’t the first time she had been captured by enemies, she knew what to do. But there were so many of them. Each time she freed herself, they would descend upon her. She managed to run, twice, each time they dragged her back kicking and screaming.
Despite his words, Y/N didn’t believe Kirigan would come for her. She had to be her own hero and she tried. In the end, she used everything at her disposal – everything.
Feeling the chains drop, Y/N glances at David, “Thank you.” The ropes were cut as well, but she didn’t move. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure if she could stand on her own and asking for help would wound her. Rubbing her bruised wrists, she reluctantly looked at Kirigan.
“Here”, Kirigan offered his hands. Truth be told, he wanted to carry her, but he knew her pride wouldn’t allow it.
Hissing, she forced herself up despite Kirigan’s offer. “I am perfectly capable of walking on my own.”
He’d have asked her again because she trembled when the wind blew. Her hair was matted with blood, her face red and not from blushing. He could see the damage they’ve done more clearly now as she bent to take a deep breath as if the simple act of breathing hurt her.
Staring at her, he nodded despite his better judgment. Her breathing was ragged, dragging her feet as she walked. She felt his eyes on her, it unnerved her. All she could do is hope her legs don’t give out, but it felt as if they would betray her any moment now.
“Go and make camp ahead”, he ordered his Grisha to speed up as he realized her stubbornness would kill her. Stepping before her, he wrapped an arm around her waist. There would be no asking her for permission this time, he’ll not allow her to deny his help. Hoisting her up in his arm, he held his breath as she cried out in pain.
“I’m sorry”, he whispered, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
How could he not bring any healers? How could he have been so stupid?
Groaning, she sent him a stern glare yet found no anger in his. His eyes are like the ocean - they have the potential to destroy, yet when the waves reach the shore, they dissipate, leaving soft designs in the sand as a gentle reminder of its presence.
Leaning into his embrace, Y/N let out a gentle sigh of resignation. She’s been caught in the riptide and for once, she doesn’t want to fight it.
“I really thought I’d die”, she admits reluctantly.
Feeling him stiffen as he held her in his arms, Y/N frowned. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said that, or anything at all. This isn’t what they do, they don’t bare their hearts open.
“And when I faced death”, she continued regardless. Tilting her head to look up at him, she let out a shuddered exhale. A shy smile adorned her lips as their eyes shared a gaze so tender, an outsider would believe them to be in love.
“I thought how silly it is that I don’t know your first name.”
Snorting, Kirigan raised his eyebrows, “Really?”
“Yes”, she breathes out.
Looking at her now, the Darkling couldn’t believe this is his wife. The woman who infuriates him so often seemed so small, so fragile in his arms. Her gaze held remains of the horrors she was cast into and yet he never saw her as earnest before.
“I married you and I don’t even know your name.”
Licking his lips, he stops. Truth be told, no one actually knows his name. His name was long forgotten, a piece of his soul he had left behind in the fold. He promised himself he’d never utter it while he lives. He had promised he would never be that man again.
Unfortunately for him, he seems to be breaking his promises lately.
He promised her he’d protect her and he failed, just as he promised himself he’d never care for her and yet he does.
“Aleksander”, he mutters, still unsure if it’s the right decision. He placed one of his greatest secrets in the hands of a woman who’d see his world burn. He gave her power she never should possess and yet he’s not afraid. No one could make him fear anything after the ordeal he was put through since she decided to tear down his defenses.  
Smiling softly, she closed her eyes. Resting her head on his shoulder she felt satisfied. It may be small, but finding out his name felt like a victory. She was born to play this game, it was her destiny. He is her destiny.
Waking up, she found herself wrapped in several blankets inside a tent. Grunting, she struggled to sit up on her own. It seemed to be dark still, but she had a blue light lantern lit inside. She may not know who left it there, but Y/N was thankful. Despite her fear of dark, she found it odd she did not fear Aleksander’s darkness at all.
When his shadows nearly encased her in the clearing, she didn’t fret or worry. She smiled.
As contradictory as it may seem, she wished he was with her now. Her entire body ached and still, she was more bothered by the empty spot beside her. Shaking her head, she bites her lower lip. Would it be so bad if she showed a sliver of vulnerability for a single night? Would making a small concession such as this truly take away her power?
Before she has a chance to change her mind, she’s already outside of her tent. The cold chilled her to the bone, biting every inch of exposed skin. Teeth chattering, she looked to the tent next to hers as it was the only one so close – seemingly intentional.
Trying to open it in the cold seemed impossible as her fingers shook violently. Feeling faint, she wondered why she couldn’t just stay in her own tent for the night. Surely it would have been a better idea than to admit she’s scared to be alone.
A warm liquid trickled down her lip and she nearly laughed at her own idiocy. The darkness and cold and her own injuries have all been fairly good reasons for her to just sleep and try to recover and she still tried to find her husband who showed so much disdain for her in the past.
Just as she was about to give up, a familiar head of hair peaked through.
Shivering, she wipes the liquid from under her nose with the back of her hand. Looking at it, she realizes it’s blood. There’s a slightly dazed look in her eyes, the blood loss suffered over the past days leaving its mark.
Looking up at Kirigan, her lips tremble and she sways slightly as her legs threaten to give out. “I didn’t know who else to go to”, she mumbles meekly before collapsing into Kirigan’s arms.
No…Aleksander’s arms.
Pulling her inside, he wrapped her in his arms as she shivered. Covering her with blankets didn’t seem to help either, but he had confidence it would soon enough.
She closed her eyes, clinging to him and selfishly, he smiled. It brought back memories of the night she climbed atop of him to warm up, he assumed. She didn’t know he was awake then, but she did now. She trusted him enough to seek warmth and as her shivers stopped slowly. That’s when the Darkling realized he would never deny her anything she asked of him.
“Fuck”, he whispers under his breath and her eyes open.
He looked at her in a haunted way, a shadow of a bruise marred his jaw and she reached up to touch it, her chest aching when he nuzzled into her palm. They have never been quite as tender with one another, never so intimate. It felt surprisingly nice.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asked, feeling so emotionally raw. Physical pain and lingering fear of impending death must have weakened her for a short while. Surely, she can allow herself a few moments of humanity?
He caught her wrist and pulled her hand down to press flat over his heart. “Here.”
Drawing a shuddered breath, her eyebrows knitted in worry. That’s where the knife was, she remembered with guilt. He could have died for her. Hating him requires too much energy; one she had little to spare. For the night, he can just be her husband and she will just be his wife. What harm can it do?
“Why did you come for me? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t fight for me?” Her confidence wavered as he sighed, brushing his fingers along her cheek. Not only did he come for her, but he murdered men for her.
Blinking slow, half in a daze as a low-grade fever began to grip her too, she had no more strength to deny how beautiful he is or how disarming his charm is. He may never love her, but she could…she could love him. If she ever fell for him, she knew she’d never be able to unlove him. She wouldn’t want to and that…that felt oddly comforting. For once, she was too tired to listen to her mind that preferred to set the world on fire rather than care for him.
As her eyes closed and her face relaxed, he stayed awake. He didn’t understand it, but he embraced the warm feeling spreading in his chest as she fell asleep.
“I’d burn this world for you.”
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PART 7
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rafescoke · 3 years
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Never sent a request idk if I do this right. Been to lazy and not good lately and honestly I just need a good fluff. The basic plot where he is in a bad mood like angry and then he turns to his lover etc etc. Do your thing I just need some comfort and love!
Cupcake ; Rafe Cameron
masterlist
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader
Summary: Maybe making cupcakes with a girl he likes won’t be a bad thing
Warnings: Slight angst on the earlier part, cursing, substance, extreme fluff, adorable Rafe Cameron
A/N: I hope you're doing good, sending all my love and hugs @ you <33 remember to rest!!! @asimpwriter
p.s; you know the drill - send any requests!
"Fuck off," Rafe sighed, shutting his eyes against the bright chandelier above the dinner table. Since when did it got so bright? The last time he checked, it was dimmed. "I swear Sarah, say one more word and I'll fucking kill you."
"Rafe," Ward sighed, placing his cutleries down onto the expensive wooden table. "It's family time. Excuse your sister."
"She's hanging around with those stupid pogues, dad!" he groaned, not wanting to believe that his dad was on her side. Not that he was ever on his, but he thought his father would have the same mindset as him towards this topic.
"Let. It. Go."
"They're my friends," she breathed, and Ward closed his eyes again, knowing the screaming that was about to occur. "I'm sorry you're stuck with Topper-"
"Didn't you cheat on him?" he laughed, and turned to look at his dad. He mouthed at him with an amused expression, "She cheated on him."
"I didn't, and we broke up 2 weeks ago. I'm sorry he couldn't move on from me," Sarah shrugged, and Rafe watched as she put aside her green beans and offered some of the mashed potatoes to Wheezie.
How could she act so normal about this?
"Oh, and-" Sarah turned to Ward, and Rafe waited impatiently for the lies that was about to slip from her mouth. "Do you know that he does drugs?"
"Sarah!" Rose yelled, furrowing her eyebrows as Rafe laughed out loud, clapping his hands loudly that the sound echoed throughout the huge house. "It's a family dinner!"
"I don't give a fuck about this family," Sarah said, removing the napkin from her lap and quickly standing up to get out of the house. Ward didn't say anything, neither did Rose, and after a few seconds, he let out a sigh.
"This is getting out of hand," he started, clasping his hands. "Rafe, I'm no longer letting you take over my business."
Rafe stopped his movements, looking at his father with widened eyes. After all those time he spent at college, trying to make his father proud and to take over the business, only for this?
"Dad, you can't. She's lying, dad, I haven't been using drugs."
"I saw the stash, Rafe," he sighed, and Rafe thought about the space under his bed. He closed his eyes, muttering a ‘fuck’ when he finally remembered the empty space. He didn't think much about it earlier, thinking about how he must have used up all of the powder.
"Until you get your life back on track, or nothing at all."
"Dad-"
"Go find your sister, and bring her home."
"Dad, please-"
"Go find Sarah."
"Okay," he sighed, standing up immediately and letting the chair scraped the polished floor. Wheezie shifted uncomfortably at the sound, and Rafe had an urge to do it again, just for the sake of riling his father's anger.
He cursed silently, walking away towards the table and to the porch, all while thinking about the joy if he could destroy the Pogues' life for making his hard.
The drive from Figure 8 to The Cut took him 30 minutes at high speed and being fully caffeinated, and when he arrived at the Chateau, all riled up from the quarrel with his father that he had before, he didn't try to see if his sister was even in there before barging into the small home.
"Yo, what the fuck?"
"Where's Sarah?" he muttered, giving Kie his side glance and continued searching for her. "Where the fuck is she?"
"Yo, bro, this land is off to the kooks," JJ stepped in, eye to eye as he leveled up to Rafe's height. He was only an inch shorter, but the difference was apparent. He continued to place his hands against his chest, whispering slowly. "Especially to crackheads like you."
Rafe laughed, tilting his head to the back to release the tension building up in his body. He was so, so close to give the blonde boy the consequences of his words, but was halted when Sarah entered the room, hand in hand with John B.
"What are you doing here?" she groaned, walking forward and standing in front of him. "God, can't you leave me alone?"
"Oh, trust me, I rather do that more than anything especially-" his eyes trailed to John B, "When you're fucking with a trash."
"JJ-" Kie stepped up, pulling JJ's shirt to stop him from doing anything. She sighed, knowing that this was bound to happen anytime soon, and she had told John B about this before, but he didn't listen. Now it was like her job to protect her friends from Rafe.
"Leave," Sarah stated, her lips pulled into a tight grimace. "Leave before I'll tell dad about this."
"I'm just trying to protect you," he ran his fingers through his hair, making it more messier than ever. Why couldn't she get that? All he was doing - it was all to protect her, so that his father could see him for what he's worth.
"You know what?" he sighed, wrapping his face with his large hands and turning towards the exit. "You wanna be one of them? Go. Don't ever come back home. You're just another trash, anyways."
He wasn't sure if he meant them, or if it came from the heat of the moment. All he could think about was to run away, to hide and to never come out and face his father or the judgement put by everyone else. He felt an uneasy feeling rising in the pit of her stomach, but he was too proud to say sorry.
“That was useless," he thought, leaning over his motorcycle and blinking his eyes against the lights by the side of the road. He couldn't go back now, not when his father had just ordered him to bring Sarah home and he had failed to do so, and he couldn't go to Barry's; his dad could find him there if he search for him the next day.
He groaned, feeling the cold air nipping at his skin until the final thought occurred to him. He laughed then, not sure as to why he hadn't been thinking of that sooner, and soon he was in front of the mini apartment.
He rapped on the door and waited patiently, his heartbeat quickening. He looked at his watch, checking if his arrival was too late. He groaned, noticing the time, but it would be embarrassing for him to turn now.
(Y/N) was trying to figure out what colour should she put into the frosting mixture, her hands on her waist when she heard the knock.
Her head instinctively looked at the clock, frowning when she read the time. It was not that late, only around 10 p.m., but she was not ready for any guests or her friends to come over.
Had she been too loud that the cranky neighbor next door who sleeps early everyday had come to tell her off?
She sighed, lowering the music coming from the radio before making her way to the door. She was in nothing but her ribbed top and a pair of sweatpants, and her hair was messier than ever.
"I'm sorry, Jerry," she sighed, opening the door to greet the old man. But standing in front of her was not the grey-haired man with furrowed eyebrows, ready to scold her, but it was the boy she had been crushing on since forever instead.
"Rafe?" she exclaimed, and she couldn't deny the shock spreading through her veins at the sight of him. He was sweaty, like he had just been in a fight, and his shirt was sticking to his body. "What are you doing here?"
"Hey, I'm sorry, can I come in?"
The smell of freshly baked cupcakes wafted into his nostrils, and he noticed the drool in his mouth. He didn't eat dinner that much, being forced to chase after his sister, and all he wanted was to enjoy some good food and get a good sleep for the night.
"I'm not. . . we can't. . . I'm not prepared for anything-"
"It's okay, I didn't come for sex," he bit his lips, trying to contain her amused laughter at her statement. "We're friends, (Y/N), aren't we?"
"Yeah," she raised a brow, not grasping at the way he was playing his words. She allowed him in, asking him to sit by the kitchen counter and checking her porch outside to see if there was any cameras in case he was trying to prank her.
Rafe Cameron never contacted her for anything if it wasn't for sex.
"What are you making?" he pointed at the mess on the kitchen, and (Y/N) tried to hide her red face as she quickly tried to put the stained bowls and cutleries into the sink.
"Uh, cupcakes."
"Yum," he chuckled, liking the way she was so nervous around him. The truth with (Y/N), she was extremely wild in bed but also very shy outside. It was like a complete two different person, but he was always intrigued by this.
The first time they had done the deed, he was shocked when she got into control, and he would lie if he said he didn't enjoy it. That night was one of Rafe’s best nights, the starting point to the many after.
"Relax, (Y/N)," he laughed, watching as she tilted a cup and placing his hand under the table to catch it before it could break. (Y/N) yelped, struck to her position, and let out the biggest relief when Rafe put it back to its previous place, safe as ever.
"Why are you so jumpy?" he whispered, sneaking beside her to help with whatever she was doing. He hadn't got a clue about this whole baking thing, only watching Cake Wars for the drama, but he wanted to help the girl beside him if it means he got to spend time with her.
"What are you doing?" she muttered, glancing at Rafe's hands as he whisked the fluffy frosting. "Rafe, you're going to get it more clumpy."
"No, I won't."
"Rafe, I swear," she groaned, reaching over to grab the whisk only for him to turn around, laughing while she struggled to get him.
"I'm just making it more fluffier," he smiled, continuing to whisk the mixture without even looking at the white colloid. He was too busy looking at her, and he wondered if she knew about the small amount of flour powder that had gotten on the top of her nose.
"Was the coke good?"
"Huh?" she tilted her head, confused, and still angry at the way he was not listening to her.
"The nose. Was the coke good?"
(Y/N) gave him a look before going to the corner to stare at herself in the mirror, letting out a yelp when she saw the powdery stain on her nose. She quickly dusted them off, stalking back to the still-whisking boy, and she wondered about the amount of energy he had in him and how he was still not tired.
"Rafe! It's all clumped!" she sighed, finally having a hold on the large bowl. She took her a finger and tipped it into the mixture, pulling out before slipping the finger into her mouth. Her face scrunched up, and she reached for the glass of water by her side.
"What? It's more prettier. More texture-ish. If we're in Cake Wars, we'll be the winner."
"That's not how it works," she groaned, pouring the failed mixture into the sink and letting the water cleansed them off. "Now my cupcake's going to be naked."
"You know what can be naked too?"
She held up her middle finger, placing the wet bowl onto the counter and using the clean cloth to wipe it dry. "And I'm not giving these to the children's home naked. You have to help me, Rafe."
Rafe felt a smile tugging on his lips at the mention of 'children’s home', and he thought about how perfect could she be. She’s the epitome of the girl everyone wants to be - she's good in school, never using anyone's money for her, good at baking, and has a big heart?
He thought about how she's good in bed too, but he tired to shake the childish thought away.
"What can I do? Should I go to the store and get any Betty Crocker's frosting?" he offered, his hands in his pocket to reach for his keys. He watched as her shoulder slumped, and he felt bad for ruining her cake. He touched her shoulder, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't know it would actually be clumped. I thought it would get even more fluffier."
"You don't think, Rafe, that's why," she sighed, "But that's alright. Do you think you can help me make another one?"
"Are you sure? I don't want to ruin anything," he backed away, glancing at the sink and thinking about the clumped mixture making their way to the sewer.
"Yes. Can you reach for that sugar? That's flour, Rafe, god, yes, yes, okay, c'mere," she rolled her eyes, taking the container from him and dumping the content into the dried bowl. "Now, what do we do?"
"Put water?"
(Y/N) laughed, tilting her head to one side, trying to clutch her stomach from hurting. "Yeah, if you want the kids to get sick."
"Okay, Gordon, what should we do next?" he grunted, but he liked the lightness in the air. How the conversation flowed easily, and how quick he regained her trust to help her make whatever this is.
It was like she didn't care about the Rafe Cameron that gets into fights with the pogues or snorts coke when he's stressed. He felt like staying in this moment forever, wanting to help her bake whatever and watching her smile.
(Y/N) handed him the butter, muttering something along the words of 'dump them in', 'use the mixture', 'you're going to break your arms' and 'watch while it's whisking'.
He didn't care about the many orders she was giving him - he enjoyed it. He truly liked how his night was ending after a long day of bullshit, starting with his college sending him a letter for the vandalism he had caused outside of the Dean's office, Kelce and Topper going on a road trip without him and giving him the explanation of 'we asked you, and you said no'.
In truth, he didn't even remember anything about meeting them. His memory was starting to fade, and he shuddered at the thought of not knowing anyone when he reaches Ward's age.
"Okay, that's enough," she groaned, switching the button off. Rafe apologized quickly, being so caught up with his own thoughts, and waited for her next order.
"Choose the colour," she exclaimed happily, pointing out two different food dyes. "I can't choose!"
Rafe skimmed over the label that said 'blue' and 'pink', and made a face. "Are you going to give the blue ones to the boys and the pinks to the girls or something?"
"What? No?"
"Okay. . . why can't we just use both?"
"And make purple?"
"Yeah? Hey, look, I'm wearing blue and you're wearing pink!"
(Y/N) looked down to the ribbed top, noticing the colour, and her face turned into a red shade. Now everything's going to be awkward.
"Okay, purple it is," she rolled her eyes, giving him the blue bottle and taking the pink one for herself. "Three drops together. Are you ready?"
"Mhm."
"1."
Rafe licked his lips, so eager to watch the colour forming.
"2," she looked at him, and back to the frosting. "Rafe!"
"What?" he raised a brow, following her gaze and watching the blue dots on the frosting. He put his hand over his mouth, too stunned to say anything. "Oh my god, I'm so-"
(Y/N) laughed out loud, this time with her hands gripping onto the kitchen counter to stabilize herself, her mind rewinding back to his expression when he found out what he just did.
"Ha-ha, now you're just being an asshole," he rolled his eyes, but he was glad he had made her laugh. Instinctively, her laugh had made him feel better, and all of his worries dissipated into the air.
After a while, she tried to get ahold of herself to put the pink drops in, but failing to do so as his face kept appearing in her mind. Rafe groaned, having to wait for a few minutes now, and pulled her to feet. He pushed her against the counter, her back against his front as he trapped her.
"Don't laugh."
(Y/N) bit her lips, being in this position but not for what they usually do, and concentrated on dropping 3 drops of pink into the bowl. She cheered when she was done, pulling his hand away to move to the other side. The back of her neck was still hot, and she could still feel his arms around her.
"Mix it," Rafe smiled, leaning against the counter to watch as the mixer whisked the frosting, turning the pearly white colloid to a beautiful dark purple.
"It's dark!" she groaned, but she thought about how it still looked good, though it wasn't her expectation. Her job was almost finished now, and she could hear her bed calling.
"Now, the fun part," she smiled, taking her icing materials and placing them before his eyes. She watched as he laughed, being so excited as if he was a toddler seeing a playground for the first time.
"They used these in Cake Wars," he said proudly, showing her a nozzle.
"Stop with your Cake Wars," she mumbled, preparing the icing bag and giving Rafe one. "Put some frosting- not yet, Rafe, God, do you ever wait? Don't fill the bags too much, just in the middle, yes, just like that, and, wait, let me do mine."
She showed him how to do the perfect icing, practicing on a clean plate and asking him to do the same. He scoffed at her, saying how he got this, but what appeared was nothing more than a crooked line.
"That's nice," she muttered, sighing. "For a coming-out party."
Rafe groaned, trying to copy her artwork, and by the time it was 12.03 a.m., he had managed a copy of hers. Not literal, but there was a hint of hers in his.
"Okay. Now, Rafe, we'll make this quick. I do 80 cupcakes, and you do 20. Is that okay?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, concentrating on his piping bag. He watched as she did the first cupcake, ending her icing perfectly and exclaiming happily as she put it aside. She looked at him, waiting.
"Don't look at me, you're making me nervous," he mumbled, and leaned to decorate the cupcake. It took him a total of 2 minutes, stopping at times and getting a yell from (Y/N), saying how he should not stop, and the result was impressive. At least to him.
"This will probably be in the rejected part of a bakery, you know, that they'll sell with a discount."
"Not everyone can do arts, (Y/N)," he rolled his eyes, but he truly enjoyed the joke.
It was nearing one in the morning when Rafe saw her sighing in relief, placing the last cupcake into the pastry box and safely storing them in the refrigerator. Her hair was in a bun, he had helped her put them up, and when she refused to let him help her, he gave her a poke.
"What? It's not like it's my first time putting your hair up."
"God, Rafe, you're impossible."
His eyes were almost shut, being so tired after being a cake decorator, and all he wished for was to pull her into her bed and sleep until the morning greets them. He waited until she was done cleaning all of the utensils, walking tiredly towards to him to wake him up.
"Get change, Rafe, I'm not letting you sleep in my bed with that shirt and that sweatpants."
"It's not a problem before," he mumbled, allowing himself to be pulled by her to the bedroom. He removed his shirt weakly, pulling off his sweatpants and jumping into the bed as soon as she closed the light. (Y/N) giggled lightly, noticing how adorable he was being, and she pinched his cheeks before she could stop herself.
"Take off your clothes."
"I'm not going to take off my clothes," she laughed, pulling down her shorts and getting into the bed beside him. She finally laid her back against the mattress, letting out the biggest relief ever as she tried to get comfortable.
He pulled her close towards him, breathing into her scent. She smelled like cupcakes, and he loved it.
"I'm going to the children's home with you."
"What?" she pulled a face, because she wasn't sure if she had heard him right. There was no way Rafe Cameron would ever step his foot into a children's home, what more to give out dark purple cupcakes.
"I'm going to the children's home with you. To give them cupcakes."
(Y/N) smiled and kissed his cheeks. "Okay."
"And we should do this again."
"Okay."
"Okay."
"Goodnight, Rafe," she laughed lightly, placing another peck before closing her eyes.
He placed a long kiss fully on her lips, feeling the butterflies soaring in his stomach. "Goodnight, (Y/N)."
-
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erwinsvow · 3 years
Text
𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.
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summary: you and eren, your boyfriend armin’s best friend, have always had a strange relationship. things take a turn when armin goes home for the weekend, leaving the two of you alone on friday night.
warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), guilty reader feels bad, implied infidelity, masturbation, slight dumbification, dacryphilia, daddy kink
word count: 6.8k
author’s note: i once said i would never write for eren, so i guess that was a fat lie! enjoy!
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You’re not sure about exactly when you became so comfortable with having Eren around. It was kind of like a two-for-one deal with your boyfriend, Armin, since he was so rarely seen without his best friend at his side. Their majors were so different that they hardly ever had classes together, and so the pair of them made up for lost time by spending all their other time together. 
It wasn’t totally out of the blue if Eren would crash on the couch next to you, while you were curled up beside Armin, hands interlaced and head resting softly on his chest. You’d jolt at the impact of Eren—a huge guy compared to anyone’s standards—jumping beside you and disrupting the peaceful intimacy you were sharing with your boyfriend. Armin didn’t seem to be annoyed or frustrated, and so you wouldn’t prove to be, either. You and him would welcome Eren with a laugh, directing him to the leftovers from your take-out and enjoying the company of a man who wasn’t your boyfriend far too much. 
It was easy to fall into the trap of it. Maybe Armin was always missing the way Eren’s eyes raked over your figure whenever you’d walk into the room. Maybe he was too enraptured by his marine biology textbook to notice how Eren stared at the supple skin of your exposed thighs when you took a seat next to them, dress hiking up a little or skirt much too short for a study-date with two boys. You were never much of a tease because it was so easy when you and Armin started seeing each other, so natural and comfortable that you didn’t have to try any unusual flirting methods on the golden-haired boy. As a result, he didn’t really know what bubbled under the surface of your skin and all the different thoughts that plagued your mind. 
So you think that’s why it was so easy to fall into the trap of it all, making eyes at Eren while your boyfriend sat right next to you. Choosing outfits that had previously been stuffed into the depths of your closet, because you didn’t think Armin would approve. You kept up the facade in front of your lovely boyfriend, though, because at the end of the day, you loved him and no one else. You didn’t want to break his heart by cheating on him with his closest friend, even though the electricity between you and Eren made all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and made goosebumps appear on every inch of the soft skin of your legs that Eren loved to leer at so much. No, because at the end of the day, it was plainly wrong to even think about another man when you had Armin in your life. 
That’s what you told yourself when you stopped exchanging glances with Eren, started wearing blue again instead of green, and asked Armin if you two could have more time alone. You thought Armin looked confused, and he was, but for entirely different reasons. While you had been concerned with Eren’s gaze and intentions, Armin had been silently paying attention to his best friend and girlfriend. You thought he was innocent, sure, but he wasn’t stupid. And there wasn’t a thought in Eren’s head that Armin couldn’t figure out well in advance. If you wanted to fuck Eren, all you had to do was ask, but he quickly realized you were trying to be a good little girlfriend again, rather than the devilish slut you had been recently. Well, if you weren’t going to do anything, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands. 
Eren had always wondered why you spent so much time with Armin, and by virtue of association, with him. Any other little girlfriend would at least take some time alone to study, but you practically spent every minute at Armin’s side or in their shared apartment. Armin’s explanation of how you didn’t get along with your roommates made so much sense, especially now that you were going to be sleeping in Armin’s room for the weekend while he went back home for a ‘family emergency’. 
You had asked Armin if Eren would be going back with him in a certain voice, one that he couldn’t exactly pinpoint as he eavesdropped from his own bedroom. A mixture of uncertainty, nervousness, and excitement? Was that excitement he noted? He wishes he could look into your eyes to tell, but all he can do is listen to Armin tell you that Eren would be staying in the apartment. 
Eren can almost hear your heartbeat speed up, eyes blinking quickly and heat rushing to your face. Of course Armin trusted his best friend to stay with his girlfriend for a weekend. The two people he loved the most would never betray him, and so he had nothing to fear. 
Back to being the devoted girlfriend you are, you help Armin pack his bags late Thursday night. You folded clothes on his bed and tucked them into the duffel bag neatly, while Armin looked around for his books. He would be leaving right after his classes Friday morning, and so you knew by the time you returned after your classes, he would be long gone, leaving just you and Eren to fend for yourselves Friday night. 
In the morning, you’re greeted by Armin pressing a kiss to your forehead as he heads to his eight-am lecture. Through the daze of sleep and heavy-lidded eyes, you grasp his hand softly in a failed attempt to keep him with you a little longer, but you hear him murmur something that distinctly sounds like “Don't worry, baby, Eren will take care of you” before he leaves.
You fall back asleep after, missing the way Armin and Eren talk briefly before he departs. You wake up in Armin’s bed alone, to the sound of your alarm. Usually, Fridays are your favorite day of the week because you have a light schedule and you get to spend most of the day with Armin. His classes end right when yours start, so you’d get to grab coffee with him and meet for lunch after, before either heading to the library to get work done or to his apartment because you knew Eren wouldn’t be around and therefore you could be as loud as you want.
But not today. You had to get breakfast alone, before going off to class and sitting in the library alone. You didn’t realize how quickly the day had passed by, in between studying and texting Armin to make sure he got home safely, and avoiding the pit in your stomach that kept reminding you that you’d be going home to Eren soon. You looked outside the library window from your seat, and saw the sun was setting, meaning the library was closing soon and that you had to face reality. You’re thinking about how to put going back to the apartment for even longer, maybe stopping somewhere to eat dinner, when your phone buzzes with a text notification. 
You pick it up quickly, hoping it’s from Armin, but your stomach drops again when you see the screen lit up with Eren’s name. A singular message from him reads: Did you eat yet? 
Bastard. How does he know your thoughts before you even think them? 
You’re faced with two choices. Lie to him, then go get dinner by yourself, and then finally go back to your own home and put up with your terrible roommates for another night… or go to the apartment, order dinner with Eren, and avoid his lecherous looks long enough to get yourself safely inside Armin’s room with the door locked. 
You feel your heart pounding inside your chest at the thought of having dinner with Eren alone. He never did anything too forward or telling with you, but you suspect it was only because Armin was always right beside you. There’s no telling what he would do if he got you alone. Your heart’s pounding, but another feeling altogether is creeping into your stomach and up to your chest, one that’s making you feel hot all over despite how chilly the air in the library is. 
You’re nearly lost in your thoughts until your phone buzzing again brings you back to reality. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in as you read his text, this time longer; We can order dinner when you get here. Promise I don’t bite.
You feel like hurling your phone across the empty library, because every sane thought in your mind is telling you not to go over there, but every bone in your body feels like it’s being pulled towards Eren. Suddenly you think back to all those times you had teased him intentionally, and how strange you feel right now, like two different versions of yourself are fighting with each other. A third buzz makes your decision for you. 
Am I really so much worse than those roommates of yours?
Eren was many things, but that was one thing he was not. You quickly remember just how often you had shown up at Armin’s doorstep in tears, or so angry you had steam blowing out of your ears, because of how much you hated them. You only had to deal with them for a few more months, so it was easy enough to avoid them and only stop by to get clothes and the occasional shower. To make matters worse, it was Friday night and they would definitely be having some kind of a party or get-together, which meant there was no way you’d be getting any sleep there. 
I’m on my way, can we get pizza? 
… 
It’s only seven-thirty when you and Eren are sitting on the couch, some movie playing on the television that you aren’t paying attention to. Your nerves only let you eat a slice of pizza, while Eren scarfed down nearly half the box. You knew you were fucked when Eren opened the door, clad only in grey sweatpants and the slick sheen of sweat apparent on his entire body, from his muscular arms to his abs.
Bastard, bastard, bastard. He opened the door like that on purpose, just to see you react with a splutter and blush red.
“I’m just gonna jump into the shower, can you order the pizza?” he shouted to you while walking back to his bedroom. He came out with a towel, and you had barely processed the words because the only thing you could think about were his arms. You knew Eren was fit, anyone could tell just by looking at him, but you had no idea he was built like that. If you were a lesser woman, you would have tried to sneak glances at Eren getting into or out of the shower during all those opportunities you had, but you never did, because it felt wrong to look away from Armin’s blue eyes to focus on Eren.
But now, with no one else there to stop or distract you, your eyes were glued to his muscular figure. It wasn’t too hard to think about how easily he could pin you somewhere—up against a wall, or a door maybe, or across the dinner table. It wouldn’t even take him both hands to keep your head shoved down or keep both your arms pinned back as he—
“Hey, you okay? Did you hear me?” Eren asks again, standing right in front of you. He’s trying his hardest to sound sincere, but there’s a smirk on his face as he observes your behavior. If it wasn’t obvious before, it’s clear as day now.
“I-I’m fine. What kind of pizza do you want?”
“Whatever kind you want, just get extra cheese. Menus on the table,” he says, before turning back around and walking to the bathroom. You’re almost jaw-dropped as you watch him walk away, and hear the water turn on. You take several deep breaths, reminding yourself to stay calm. After dinner, you could go into Armin’s room and be completely fine. 
You order the pizza and go into Armin’s room to sort your stuff out, looking through your bag and searching for clothes to sleep in. You knew you had packed them, but you suddenly couldn’t find them anywhere. Your shorts and t-shirt were missing, and you quickly realized you left them on your bed while you had gone to grab your toothbrush. Damn it. 
Armin has a collection of perfectly soft and comfortable shirts to sleep in, so you open one of his drawers and pull out a dark green one, with some design on it. There’s no shorts that would fit you among Armin’s clothes, so you’ll have to do without them tonight. It’s fine though, considering the door will be locked and you’ll be safe and sound once you and Eren go to bed. Or so you thought.
Now you’re sitting on the couch, still dressed in your day clothes and feeling hot again. You knew Armin liked to keep the apartment on the warmer side, but you had never felt quite this warm before.
Eren glances at you with a quizzical look, and you realize your shiftiness and breathy pants are more noticeable than you thought. 
“Are you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out and you barely ate a thing,” he comments, keeping his eyes on you which somehow makes you feel even worse. His gaze is piercing, and though you never really cared that Eren always looks like he’s undressing you with his eyes, it’s bothering you now more than ever.
“I-I’m okay,” you get out, before suddenly standing up and taking off the cardigan you had worn all day. “I think I just need to shower, good night Eren,” you say, before walking away much too quickly. Eren’s eyes don’t leave you until you’re inside Armin’s room once more, wondering why you’re so hot and bothered at a simple stare from him. Him, who is not your boyfriend, and barely qualifies as your friend and for some reason has you wet from looking into those green eyes for too long.
Enough. 
Armin was kind and sweet enough to let you sleep at his place when he’s not even there, and you wanted to repay that kindness by having dirty thoughts about his best friend? No, it wasn’t right, in fact, it was inherently wrong. You take a few more moments in Armin’s room, inhaling the familiar scent of his fabric softener and all the old books on his shelves, before taking your towel and going to the bathroom. Eren is still in the living room, eating and watching the movie, you presume, and you wish to God he would leave you alone and go out to party or fuck some other girl, but he’s not. He’s spending a quiet Friday night at home with you.
The hot water and clean soap distract you from your thoughts, but the tension and heat growing in your body is only exacerbated when you run your hands across your body. There’s something very wrong about touching yourself in the shower when Eren is a dozen feet away and could hear you easily—but that’s a risk you’re willing to take if it meant it would get illicit thoughts of him out of your brain for the rest of the night. 
One hand goes to play with your hardened nipple, as the other tenderly begins to rub circles on your clit. Your hands try to imitate Armin’s, and he’s always gentle with you, but as you let out a muffled moan, you realize it’s not Armin’s careful touch you want right now. It’s Eren’s rough fingers, fingers that would move in and out of your wetness harshly, not waiting for you to adjust to their size. Eren wouldn’t start with one, like Armin, he would go for three and keep his thumb on your clit, rubbing so fast and in just the right way, while his mouth would be on your tits—tongue doing the talking for him on your sensitive nipples. He wouldn’t care to stop if it was getting to be too much, and he wouldn’t let you come down from your high before starting again, he would just keep going. Eren would know when you’ve had enough, and just once didn’t meet his requirements for enough. 
If anyone could see you right now, you could die from embarrassment, furiously fucking your fingers and completely unaware of how loud you were being as you tried to imitate what Eren would do to you. But imitating wasn’t quite enough, You were so close, you could almost feel that tight knot in your stomach unwind, just a little more—-
Knock. 
“Hey, you’ve been in there a while. Everything okay?” Eren’s voice is muffled from outside the door, and the waterfall coming from the shower suddenly felt like it was pounding beside you. 
Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a frustrated, stifled sob. 
“Y-yeah! I’m almost done!” you call back out, fingers still inside you. You remove them with a gasp, shaking and face burning at the idea that Eren might have overheard you. You get out of the shower on wobbly legs, wrapping the towel securely around you and heading to Armin’s bedroom to change and put an end to this strange day. You don’t notice that Eren’s door is cracked open a little.
As strange as it sounds, you feel much better once you’re in Armin’s shirt and just a pair of panties, ready for bed. A nagging voice in the back of your head wants you to finish what you started in the shower, nipples hard again as the air seems cooler than earlier, but you push the thoughts aside. Another day.
You grab your water bottle to take your birth-control pill, eight forty-five on the dot, but realize its contents are empty as a result of your earlier hot flash. You tiptoe into the kitchen, extra careful because you don’t want Eren to hear and come out, but as you fill up a glass, your roommate for the night is suddenly leaning against the counter. 
It should be illegal the way he says your name. Sultry and deep and rolling off his tongue without even trying. Eren doesn’t have to change a thing about him to be the very definition of the word erotic, which is coincidentally the only word you can use to describe this encounter. 
He’s forgone the shirt he had on earlier, when you were eating together, and you knew he had put it on just to make sure you didn’t choke on your pizza. Just in those sweatpants again, you could see everything you had tried too hard to avert your gaze from, on display right in front of you. 
“E-Eren,” you stutter out, skin burning again even though it was cold now. “I didn’t see you there.”
“It’s okay. What are you taking, there?” You flushed again at the idea of having to tell Eren it was your birth control, because it felt as if he already knew somehow. He watches you with that damn smirk and a raised eyebrow, waiting for your answer.
“It’s ibuprofen.”
“Oh.. ibuprofen, huh? That’s weird, because every time I asked you if you were okay, you said you were fine. Were you lying to me?” His tone is dangerous, somewhere between amused and angry.
You didn’t even realize he had gotten so close to you, until you tried to take another step backwards to put some distance between you two, but you were met by resistance from a cupboard, signifying the end of the wall.
“I-I wasn’t lying, I just forgot-” You hear him click his tongue. He’s dangerously close to you now, you can feel the heat coming off of his body and one more step from him would make you feel the cold breath of his exhales.
“Forgot what, baby? It seems to me that I just caught you in a lie.” Another click of his tongue. “Now, Armin always says you’re a good girl, but I don’t think a good girl would lie to me like you’ve been doing all night, right?”
Armin. The very mention of his name makes something recoil inside your chest, makes you remember how you don’t want to hurt him like this, and how much pain he would be in if he found out about this little interaction between you and Eren.
You try to push back, but Eren extends his arms up, trapping you between them and the cabinet, leaving no way for you to escape. 
“Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me?” 
The simple sentence is enough to send your brain, skin, heart on fire, as you let out a breath and find your head nodding up and down. Your body seems to have a mind of its own, wetness seeping from between your folds and no doubt creating a darkened patch on your panties.
“Good girl,” he mewls, dragging out each syllable as he speaks. “I thought I might have to punish you if you kept lying to me, but I don’t think that’ll be an issue anymore. Am I right?” He watches you dumbly nod again, eyes very much blank and just focused on one thing: him. He nods too, mocking your movements and smirking again. “Should we play a game? How about I ask a question, and you have to tell the truth? Sound good?”
Everything’s on fire, and you can’t hear anything besides the thumping of your heart in your chest. Long gone are your inhibitions and desperate hope of a quiet night in with your boyfriend’s roommate.
“First question…” Eren trails off quickly, looking down your body slowly. He takes one hand down from its position of blockading you and brings it to the hem of your—Armin’s—shirt. He plays with it there before continuing his sentence. “What were you thinking about in the shower earlier?”
You feel your breath catch in your throat and a quick flame erupts in your chest at the humiliation you feel—so he had heard you after all. And he interrupted you on purpose.
“You-you were listening? I-” Eren laughs, a low rumble from his chest meeting your ears as you begin to quiver from your position against him. 
“I wasn’t listening so much as you were being loud. It seems to me that you wanted me to hear you, isn’t that right? Or else what kind of a filthy slut would be so loud?” 
You tremble at the name he calls you, not used to sort of degradation Eren is putting you through. A small voice in the back of your head tells you that he’s not wrong, and your behavior is akin to some kind of whore. Maybe you’ve been like this all along, and you just needed the right person to bring it out of you. Your head feels utterly empty and devoid of any more thoughts, and you blank at what to say to Eren next. 
“I-I’m s-sorry,” you splutter out, feeling incredibly small near Eren, who towers over you. There’s something sadistic in Eren’s gaze, but you notice him soften up at your apology.
“What are you apologizing for?” he questions, quieter than before. He knows the two of you are alone, but he can’t bring himself to raise his voice at you.
You, the bane of his existence, and a blessing all at once. Since the day Armin introduced you to him, there’s been nothing he’s wanted more than for you to meet his gaze and look at him the way you looked at his best friend, with love and adoration. He got a few lucky weeks where you didn’t immediately shy away from his eyes, when he felt like you were challenging him to do something, anything. But it went as soon as it came, and suddenly he was seeing less and less of you. Until this opportunity from Armin’s departure, that is.
“I… I was being a slut,” you whisper back to him, tears lining up at the waterline of your pretty eyes as he moves a hand to your jaw and forces you to look right at him while you speak. You shudder at the touch of his skin on yours, but you don’t want him to stop all the same. 
“That’s okay, baby,” he says in an incredibly reassuring tone that has you wondering what he’ll do next. “I like my girls a little slutty, but just for me, right?” You nod again, quickly. “Besides, I have to make it up to you, you know. I stopped you right when you were getting real close, didn’t I? I could just tell from those pretty noises you were making.” 
The next few moments pass by in a blur, Eren’s arms move and suddenly you’re over his shoulder, ass up and out as the shirt you’re wearing rides up. He delivers a quick slap, making you cry out, as he brings you into the room and lays you on the bed. He’s standing between your legs, a hand on each thigh keeping you spread open for him as he observes closely the impact of his actions on you. 
“You’re just soaking through your panties, aren’t you? Are you really that eager for me?”
You let out a whine, not wanting to answer his question because your face is burning again at the idea of Eren staring so closely at your clothed pussy—and you let out an even higher-pitched squeal when he uses a finger to push your panties aside, and look at your wetness completely. 
“So wet, and so pretty, all for me, huh?”
“Y-yes. All for you,” you let out with a moan, eager for Eren to do something. Anything at all would set you over the edge, with how you’ve been feeling these last few hours. But you think he knows that, because his actions are all teasing you and leaving you wanting more, blindly clenching around nothing at all as his fingers barely graze your clit. He lets out a laugh at your desperate antics, and you’re about to come from the slightest touch, and suddenly you feel the bed moving as Eren wraps his lips around your clit and pushes his tongue against you.
You didn’t even know you could make the noise that you let out, a scream and a cry and carnal moan all wrapped in one. You know Eren thinks the same because he looks up at you from his position between your legs, laughing against your core. The vibration from his laugh makes your legs shake even harder, as you feel Eren’s tongue attacking your clit at an even faster pace. You’re seeing stars and completely unaware of everything else, like how Eren’s nimble hands slid your panties down and tossed them to the side somewhere, landing near the bookshelf, so close to the edge when you feel his fingers teasing at your opening and plunge in without any warning. 
You were completely right about your earlier predictions, feeling Eren quickly add a third finger inside you as you clasp a hand over your mouth to stop the obscene noises from leaving your mouth. You do have neighbors, after all, despite how much empty your head feels of every thought besides one; Eren. 
He pulls his mouth away from your sensitive nerves for just a second, just to chastise you before continuing his actions.
“Don’t do that,” he says the words against your lips, “I want to hear you.” 
You weren’t sure it was possible to feel even more pleasure than you were now, but Eren’s words made you feel feral as you let out another loud moan, this time not muffled. You think he calls you a good girl, but you’re not sure if it’s your imagination. You whine when you feel Eren pull his fingers out of you, suddenly so empty when you had been so full moments ago. You’re trying to collect the words to tell him to keep going, and how this is the second time he’s ruined your finishing, but you just can’t. The only thing that comes out is a mumble of ‘please’ and ‘Eren’ 
“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not stopping,” he says, pulling himself up and hovering over you. One of his strong arms is by your head, holding himself up as the other hand, the one that had been inside of you, finds its way to your mouth. “Open.”
You do as you’re told, dropping your jaw quickly for him as he shoves the fingers into your hot mouth.
“Suck.” Another command that has you reeling, doing exactly as he wants and swirling your tongue around Eren’s long fingers. They’re coated with your heady wetness, and the taste is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, but you don’t stop. It feels entirely too dirty and filthy, but you’re willing to do anything to get Eren’s approval now. His words are clear now.
“Good girl. Since you’ve been so good, I think you can cum now.”
His fingers leave your mouth quickly, and he’s fiddling with your hands now, that were previously gripping the sheets so tightly you were scared they might tear. He pulls up your shirt even more, exposing your tits to the cold air of the room, and puts your fingers on your hardened nipples. He doesn’t give a command, but you know it instinctively, that he wants you to play with your nipples while he makes you come. You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to follow his orders, but you go ahead anyways. You’re teasing yourself in front of his hungry, wolf-like gaze, as you clench on nothing every time you run your fingers over your sensitive nipples.
Satisfied, he returns back to his position between your legs. You’re crying out before his fingers even reach your wetness, and choke on your moan when he inserts three at once again. You know there’s no way you’ll be able to hold out now, and if he stops again you feel like you might explode into a million pieces. His tongue is rough against your clit, moving in the perfect motion, and one more thrust of his perfect fingers against that spot inside you will have you cumming so hard— Eren speaks against your pussy, a singular word.
“Cum.”
You feel the knot snap in your stomach and your orgasm shakes through you like a bolt of lightning. You hear yourself release a scream before you can stop it, fingers leaving your breasts and grasping onto Eren’s dark strands for dear life, because he hasn’t let up on his actions yet. He keeps going, riding you through it, tongue and mouth continuing on and fingers pumping in and out so quickly that the bedroom is filled with a crude, squelching noise. You’re not sure exactly how loud you were, but your throat is dry and scratchy, and you’re swallowing just to feel some relief. You feel Eren slowly retract his fingers, breathing heavy against the soft skin of your thigh, as you find your way back to reality. You don’t look down at Eren, but you hear him licking his fingers, tasting your wetness in such a sinful manner, you know you can’t look at him do it.
Reality sets in, and you look around your surroundings. Every single one of your senses had been preoccupied with Eren minutes ago, but now that they were free again, you take in the comfortable scent of the sheets and the lingering scent of your slick leaves your thoughts as you take in the familiar scent of old books. Your heartbeat was just returning to normal, when you look around and realize you’re in Armin’s room, on Armin’s bed, as Armin’s best friend gave you the most powerful orgasm of your life. 
You sit up quickly, breathing rapidly as your shirt falls to cover yourself, and you meet Eren’s eyes again.
“Lay back, baby, we’re not done yet.” There’s a haze over your thoughts, and his words, because you want to fight him, and yell and scream at him for bringing you into Armin’s room when you already felt so horrible about what you’ve done, but you can’t summon anything. The only thing you can think about is Eren’s dick, and how it would feel inside you, and how your sensitive walls would take him. So you follow Eren’s orders, and lay back down. Eren hovers over you again, pulling at your shirt, up and over your head, and it lands with a soft thud on the carpet. 
He’s looking at you now, up and down slowly, but different than all the other times. He doesn’t have to rush to take it all in this time, because you’re on display just for him now. So he takes his time, and starts with a soft kiss to the skin right above your heart, wondering if he can hear the hard thuds or if that’s just his imagination. You look at him while he continues his ministrations, wondering why he’s being so slow and careful, because you hadn’t expected this.
His lips work their way up, to your collarbone and then your neck, taking his time to suck on the skin and pepper it with kisses once he hears you hiss in pain. He murmurs an apology against your jaw, before his teeth take your bottom lip between them. He lets go soon after, too eager to feel your lips against his. He’s scared you might pull away, but you don’t. You know you’ve done something terrible, but it’s too late to take it back now. 
He kisses you deeply, tongues finding each other and exchanging that heady taste of yourself. You moan into the kiss, your hands finding the side of Eren’s face and trying to push him onto yourself even harder. You’re not sure if you ever want to pull away from Eren’s lips, but he finally does, trying to catch his breath. You look into his green eyes for a moment, and find your own eyes watering. 
“Don’t cry, baby. I’ll give you what you want.” Eren’s words send you scrambling again, too eager for the fullness you know is inevitable when he finally fucks you.
You feel yourself grabbing for the waistband of his sweats, but Eren’s faster than you. His one hand pins both of yours against your chest, as he clicks his tongue in that obnoxious way again.
“Patience. Only patient girls get daddy’s cock.” You want to scream at him about how patient you’ve been, all this time and all of tonight, but you bite your tongue. You don’t need Eren’s punishment on top of the torture he’s put you through already. 
You let go of your resistance and watch with wide eyes as he removes the only thing that was in your way. His erect dick snaps up against his stomach once it’s freed, and you swallow without thinking, looking at the sheer size of him. He’s just as big as you had imagined, the tip a pretty, dark pink with white beads of pre-cum gathered at the top, and every vein causing you to descend further and further into a wanton state. It’s his thickness that you weren’t prepared for. If three of his fingers were such a tight stretch, you can only imagine what this would do to you. But at the same time, you think you might die if Eren doesn’t fuck you right now. 
He watches with that damn smirk as you stare at his dick with more eagerness than he’s ever seen before. He holds his length in his hand, directing himself to your entrance but not pushing in. He holds himself there, running his dick over your folds and almost succumbing to the inviting wetness of your cunt, but he stops himself. 
“Do you want my cock, baby?” Another surge of heat rushes through your body, feeling almost light-headed at how difficult he’s making this. But you weren’t about to start misbehaving now.
“Y-yes, yes, Eren, please-” You hiccup out, feeling yourself lose the battle against your watery eyes, as the tears roll down your face. “Please, I want it so badly, please, please, please—Oh!” 
Eren pushes in without any warning, watery eyes being his own breaking point. He could have finished on the spot seeing you cry begging for his dick, and he was determined to make you cum again before then. The noises you’re making are incredibly obscene, and he knows you’re being loud enough to notify the entire floor, but he’s not going to stop you. He’s only about half way in, but he wants to be nice and let you adjust to him.
“P-please, Eren, please-” You’re not entirely sure what you’re begging Eren for. A part of you doesn’t think it’s possible to feel more full, and another part of you wants Eren to fuck you so hard you forget everything and everyone. 
He’s about to chastise you again to be patient, and let you know that he’s doing this for you, not him, but he realizes his actions are louder than his words. With another thrust, he pushes his entire length in you. You moan again, this time with a breathy gasp, and he can’t help the smile on his face. You look so pretty crying, trying to take his entire dick and struggling immensely.
He thrusts slowly, wanting to make it last and make you feel every last vein of dick deep inside you, but the way your tight cunt grips him has him speeding up before he can help it. The noises filling Armin’s room are beyond lecherous, as the only sounds are of his tightening balls smacking against your skin with every deep thrust, and the lewd noise of your wetness taking him. 
He’s got you on your back, sitting up between your thighs and one leg hoisted on his shoulder, and thrusting so hard you can feel his hip-bone bruising your skin. There’s only one thought left in your head, and that’s how good Eren feels inside you. The aching burn of his initial assault is long gone, leaving just the feeling of Eren filling you up. Your hands remember his earlier order and find their way to your hardened nipples again, pinching and teasing, putting on a show for Eren as he moans loudly. Every noise he makes goes straight to your core, making you clench around him harder than before.
His lithe fingers find your clit again, and you throw your head back and moan even louder at the feeling. You were so, so sensitive already and this was the last straw. One more of Eren’s thrusts, hitting that special spot inside you, and one more touch of his fingers on your clit sent you screaming to your second orgasm. You were clenching tightly, as Eren worked you through it again and kept his thrusts going. You were seeing black, screaming his name and God knows what else, as you came and waves of pleasure washed over you and heat radiated from your head to your toes.
Eren’s continued thrusts kept going, even after your pussy tightened around him. You were out of breath and sweaty, and you felt Eren’s hips stutter as he leaned forwards and found your hot mouth again. You were kissing again, his lips on yours as you swallowed his moans and grabbed his arms to steady yourself. With another rapid succession of thrusts, Eren moved his lips to your neck and groaned loudly as he came inside you. You felt the hot ropes of his cum deep inside your pussy, as he kept going and going, eventually pulling out of you with a heady moan. You could feel his cum leaking out of you and onto Armin’s sheets, as you laid incredibly still beside Eren, both of you trying to catch your breath. You were ashamed to look Eren in the eyes, avoiding his gaze still as you felt your heart rate return somewhat back to normal. 
“Hey,” was all he said, breathlessly, and with a deep look in his eyes that you had never seen before. “Are you okay?” 
He straightened himself up, leaning against the bed frame and opening his arms in an inviting manner. You wanted nothing more than to avoid his touch, but you felt the exhaustion in your limbs and you convinced yourself there was nothing wrong with being held by him for a few minutes. You leaned against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you and pulling up the covers to shield you both from the cold air. You were content to fall asleep right here, every sense of yours taken up by Eren, but you couldn’t just yet. 
“What are we going to tell Armin?” you breathed out dejectedly. It was the one thought that was plaguing your mind, the one thought stopping you from being happy and peaceful beside Eren tonight. 
“Oh, baby. You’re acting like this entire thing this wasn’t his idea.”
...
thanks for reading! part two with armin, anyone?
1K notes · View notes
kythed · 3 years
Text
“almost funny”
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synopsis: suna rintarou thinks you’re out of his league, and you think he’s out of yours.
tagged: general dumbassery, fwb-to-lovers, some profanity, sexual references but nothing explicit.
commitment level: 5.6k words.
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It’s almost funny, really. It’s funny how what started out as a purely physical transaction has now transformed into a one way ticket to Simpville with the name Suna Rintarou stamped on it in big red letters. Suna runs a hand through his hair in frustration as he stares down at your sleeping form, curled up in his SF Giants tee that fits you like an oversized nightgown. He loves how you look there, wearing his clothes, bed head resting on his pillows. It’s almost embarrassing how much he loves it. How much he might love you. 
He doesn’t really remember when he started seeing you as more than a good fuck. Maybe it was that time you told him he looked pretty with your lipgloss smeared across his mouth. 
“That’s a nice shade on you,” you’d laughed as he wiped his lips on the back of his hand. “You should wear it more often.” 
Then, before he could respond, you’d yanked him back in by the collar, licking into his mouth, deep and dirty. He shivers now even just thinking about it, recalling the taste of that lipgloss. Strawberry lemonade, the sort that comes in little bottles at the dollar store. However “pretty” he might’ve looked in that moment, he’s sure you looked a hundred times better. You always do, and you don’t even have to try. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, even in your worst moments. 
Or maybe it was the time you remembered his birthday when no one else did. January 25th; all his friends had taken off on their ski trips or tropical vacations, but you showed up to his apartment toting a cupcake and a single candle, belting a loud, out of tune rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ until he shut you up with an impulsive kiss on the lips. You’d been surprised, but not so surprised you couldn’t kiss him back. Suna’s pretty sure most friends-with-benefits don’t do that sort of thing. They don’t sit across from each other at the kitchen table, splitting a vanilla cupcake and laughing over matching frosting mustaches. They don’t hug each other goodbye after two hours of scrolling through YouTube and nothing else, content to linger in that air of tentative familiarity and pseudo-friendship. 
Whatever the reason, whenever it happened, all Suna knows now is you’re more than just a fuck buddy. He doesn’t even want to associate the term with you — it feels disrespectful. He wishes he could just stop pretending. Stop pretending he doesn’t want you to be his. 
“Hey.” 
Suna grins at your low, throaty morning voice. It’s cute. 
“Hey,” he responds, reaching forward to flick your shoulder. “You slept in.” 
“Did I?” You blink the sleep from your eyes and squint at Suna’s bedside clock. 9:06. “Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.” 
You fly out of bed, wiggling into your jeans and tossing your hair into a careless ponytail before frantically scanning the room. “Have you seen my sweater anywhere?”
Suna exhales through his nose before getting up and walking over to his closet. “I hung it up last night so it wouldn’t be wrinkled.”
You freeze in your tracks, slowly turning with a teasing grin plastered on your face. “Oh? How considerate of you.”
Suna shrugs, avoiding your gaze. He feels a flush rise to cheeks and desperately hopes it doesn’t show. “Just being polite.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a little crush on me,” you crow before taking the sweater from the hanger and slipping it over your head. 
“You wish,” he snorts, but all he can think is you’re absolutely right. 
You ignore him and begin shoveling all your things into your purse: a compact mirror, lipstick, house keys. You glance at the clock again. “I’m gonna be so late to this lecture. Damn. Maybe I can text Aiko and ask her to record the first part for me.”
Suna raises an eyebrow. He remembers your friend Aiko from a party last year, before you and he began your… arrangement. She’s outgoing, friendly, and probably the flakiest person he’s ever met. “She’s not gonna do that. Just let me drive.”
“No, it’s fine,” you automatically brush him off, heading into the bathroom to splash your face with lukewarm water. “You probably have your own shit to take care of.”
Yeah, you, he thinks, but instead he says, “Not really. Plus, you’ll probably miss the whole thing if you try to bike to campus. Let me take you in the car. I’ll strap the bike onto the back.” 
You give him a look. “Are you sure, Rin?”
“It’s really not a big deal,” he says, throwing on a shirt. “Outside in five, and I’ll have you there by 9:30, easy.” 
After a few more weak protestations, you finally agree, and as he drives you to your university, he lets himself pretend you’re his girlfriend sitting there in the passenger seat. He turns on your favorite artist’s Spotify mix on the aux and smiles to himself when you hum along, watching the city fly past out the window. What he wouldn’t give for that reality, one where he can love you without all these restrictions, these tricky boundaries between friends and lovers. When you jump out of the car, calling a cheeky “I’ll text you!” over your shoulder, he pretends it’s an affectionate “I’ll see you for dinner tonight!” instead. He pretends that instead of rushing to get away from him and into the lecture hall, you kiss him on the forehead and squeeze his shoulder, reluctant to leave.
“Fuck me,” Suna says angrily before slamming his palm into the horn, scaring a few freshman walking to class. “And fuck you too!” 
He’s not sure who “you” is. Maybe the universe. 
No, Suna Rintarou doesn’t know why or how it happened, but he’s in too deep now. And he’s pretty damn sure you’ll never feel the same way. 
+
You slide into your seat beside Aiko just as the guest lecturer pulls up his power point, breathing out a sigh of relief. Aiko shoots you a grin, waggling her eyebrows. Suna? she mouths, and you roll your eyes, nodding nonetheless. Aiko can hardly wait until after the lecture to start pestering you about it. 
“So,” she says as you leave the auditorium together. “Did you tell him yet?” 
“Tell him what?” You dig in your bag for your water bottle, groaning when you remember leaving it on the edge of Suna’s sink last night. 
“Tell him that you’re in loooooove,” Aiko sings, nudging your shoulder. 
You scoff. “Okay, first of all, I don’t love him.”
“But you like him,” Aiko persists, and you hold up a finger. 
“And second of all, even if I did, I would never tell him.” You yawn, rubbing your eyes before realizing you hadn’t taken your makeup off and thus probably have awful raccoon eye bags. “He’s so out of my league it’s not even funny. It’s kind of pathetic for me to think he’d ever like me back.” 
Aiko scoffs. “If anything, you’re out of his league. You could pull any guy you wanted to. And when I say any, I mean any. Like, I bet you could even get Jake Gyllenhaal.” 
You laugh. “Why specifically Jake Gyllenhaal?”
Aiko shrugs. “Dunno. Just the first hot guy that came to mind. But forget him. My point is, Suna Rintarou is definitely yours for the taking. All you have to do is —”
“I know, I know,” you interrupt. “All I have to do is confess.” 
“Exactly,” says Aiko. Before she can open her mouth again, you cut in. 
“Okay, but listen, Aiko,” you say. “Suna’s the kind of guy who doesn’t let himself get attached. He fully admitted to me when we first hooked up that he’d never had a girlfriend. And that’s obviously not from lack of female interest. It’s because he doesn’t want one.”
“Or maybe it’s because he hasn’t found the right person yet.” Aiko starts heading towards the campus coffee shop, and you follow her. 
“Sure,” you say, getting in line. The cafe is crowded with students getting in their daily caffeination, inhaling sugary lattes and bitter espressos just to stay awake through their next class. Ah… college. “Or maybe he just. Doesn’t. Want. One.” 
Aiko keeps arguing all the way up until you reach the cash register, where you realize you haven’t even decided on what to order yet. 
“Hey there,” says the cashier, smiling sunnily. “What can I get for ya?” 
You blink. He’s attractive. Very attractive, actually. Bleach blonde, a crooked grin that screams trouble in the best sort of way. Miya, says the little name plate pinned to his shirt. “I, uhh…”
“Take your time,” he says leaning forward like he’s about to tell you a secret. “Between you and me, we have an excellent mocha latte. Not too sweet, y’know?”
You find your manners. “Oh, um, yeah. That sounds great, actually.” 
“One mocha latte, then?” he asks, picking up a cup, and you nod. “And to whom do I owe the pleasure of serving today?” 
When you tell him your name, he smiles to himself and scrawls it on the cup. “Pretty.”
You flush and pay, hands shaking a little when you slide your card down the side of the machine. The cashier notices and shoots you a knowing look. Five minutes later, when you pick up your drink from the other side of the counter, you see not only your name written on the lid, but a phone number, too, along with a tiny winking face. 
“What’d I tell you?” exclaims Aiko shrily when you leave the shop. “Any. Guy. Period.” 
You shake your head in exasperation, but you can’t help but throw a final glance over your shoulder, meeting the eyes of the cute cashier one more time. Maybe Aiko does have a point. 
+
That weekend, Suna’s stretched out on his couch, dangling his feet over the armrest and staring up at the ceiling. It’s one of those lazy Saturday afternoons, and usually he’d be enjoying his alone time. Not today, though. Today there’s something — someone — on his mind, and that someone is spelled y-o-u. His phone pings, and he snatches it up with embarrassing speed, groaning when he sees it’s just Atsumu. 
“Bastard,” he mutters, not even bothering to open the message. Probably just asking for the O-chem lab answers. 
Suna rolls over onto his stomach, pulling up your contact name. What he really wants to do is see you, but how is he supposed to do that without sounding weirdly desperate? Hey, he types out. Wanna come over and watch a movie? He pauses for a moment before adding, Pizza’s on me. 
He buries his face in his hands and deletes the text. That makes it sound like he’s asking you out. Well, that’s what he does want to do, but you can’t know that. He’s fairly certain if you knew how he felt about you, you’d freak out. Girls don’t like to be tied down, he reminds himself. Suna groans again, grabbing two fistfuls of hair in irritation. 
“Why are women so complicated?” he says aloud, letting the words echo in his empty apartment. He takes a couple seconds to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and unlock his phone again, this time settling on a simple Come over. Short, sweet, and to the point. Well, not exactly. That makes it sound like all he wants to do is sleep together, when he’d really rather just… talk. Spend time with you. 
“Oh, God,” he mutters. “I’m so done for.” 
It takes what seems like forever for you to arrive, breathless from biking, hair slightly mussed. Suna grins, biting his lip. You’re so beautiful, he thinks, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. Even if all he can get is the sex, then he’s sure as hell going to appreciate it. You smell like lavender laundry detergent, he notices when you press yourself into him, fumbling to close the door behind you without breaking the kiss. 
“Well, hello there,” you laugh when he finally breaks away and draws in a shaking breath. “Somebody’s eager.”
Suna rolls his eyes. “As if. You just took so long to get here.” 
You cock an eyebrow. “You texted me like half an hour ago.”
“Yeah, and you’re half an hour too late.”
You snort and hurl a pillow from the sofa at him. He catches it and smiles, taking your wrist and drawing you in for another messy, open-mouthed kiss.
“Sorry that I don’t have the power of teleportation,” you quip, laughing when he pulls you into the bedroom. Suna resolves to take his time with you today, undressing you carefully, trailing his lips down your sternum and collarbones, grinning to himself whenever you gasp. He almost catches himself saying “I love you” at one point as you cling to him, mumbling his name, but he placates himself with kissing you extra hard at the end instead, pulling you into his chest and falling back into the pillows. 
Usually, you’d take a few minutes to lay in silence, tracing shapes in his skin, and he’d lean back with closed eyes, imagining what it would be like to be loved by you. Slow early morning kisses, skin on skin, whispering and giggling and everything cheesy he used to hate but now wishes he could experience with you. Today, though, you peel yourself off of him and grab your phone as soon as it buzzes, fingers flying in response to whoever had texted you.
“New boy toy?” he jokes, almost choking when you don’t immediately say no. Oh, shit. “You’re kidding.”
“Just a guy I met the other day,” you say casually. Suna stares, slack jawed. “Works at the coffee shop near the quad.” 
“Coffee shop?” He furrows his brow. Doesn’t he know someone who works there? He internally scowls, digging into the back of his brain. Aran? Osamu? 
“Mm,” you say, suppressing a smile as the nameless suitor sends another text. “His name’s Atsumu Miya.”
Suna’s heart nearly falls right out of his chest and cracks at his feet. “No.”
You look up, raising an eyebrow. “No?”
“Not him,” Suna says, forgetting himself, forgetting the nature of your relationship. 
“I didn’t realize you were in charge of who I can and cannot be interested in,” you say bitingly. 
Suna sits up. “I’m not. It’s just, Atsumu… he’s not your type.” 
“You know him?”
“Yeah,” Suna says, thinking back on his days observing the Miya twins’ antics. “He’s not your kind of guy, trust me.”
“Pray tell then,” you say. Oh, fuck. You’re irritated. “Who exactly is my kind of guy?” 
Me, he thinks. I’m your kind of guy. “I don’t know. Just trust me though, okay? Atsumu… he’s difficult.” 
“Thanks, Suna,” you say, tone tinged with sarcasm. Suna cringes. You only ever call him by his surname when you’re upset with him. “But I think I can go out with whoever I want to go out with.” 
“Fine.” The word tumbles out more harshly than he’d meant it to. 
You stare at him in disbelief. “What, are you mad at me or something?” 
Suna exhales heavily. “No, I’m not mad. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. I just wanted to give you a little guidance. As your friend.” 
“As my friend?” you repeat. “My friend?”
Now it’s Suna's turn to be confused. “Are we not friends?”
“I don’t know, Suna,” you say, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, pulling your clothes on. “You tell me.” 
“I’m not sure what you want me to say here,” he says, watching as you struggle to pull your shorts back on. He knows what he wants to say. No, we’re not friends. We should be together. Isn’t it obvious? 
You huff, grabbing your bag and the water bottle you’d left behind the other day. “You know, I don’t really know either. Forget I ever said anything. I guess I just thought…” 
You trail off and shake your head, heading towards the door. Suna scrambles out of bed to follow you, pulling on his pants as he hops down the hall on one leg. “What’s that?” 
“I said forget it,” you call over your shoulder, trying to slam the door, but Suna catches your wrist. As you stare up at him, he thinks he sees your lip quivering, eyes shining with half-formed tears. “Let me go.” 
“I’m serious,” Suna says. “What did you think?” 
You draw in a deep breath, and for a second, Suna thinks you’re about to say the words he’s always wanted you to say. Then you look away. “Let. Me. Go.” 
Slowly, Suna releases you from his grasp, and you stumble backwards, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. 
“Don’t call me.”
“Wait, no —”
“Don’t call me, Suna!” you say loudly, before turning on your heel and speed walking down the stairs. 
Oh. Oh. Suna stares in shock at the place you were just standing on his doorstep. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 
When he heads back inside, head empty but for the single thought, I’ve just lost the best thing that ever happened to me, he glances at his phone on the counter. In an instant, he’s opening up his messages, pulling up Atsumu’s. 
Met a cute girl LOL. Gonna bring her to that party on Friday. 
Then, in a separate bubble — Btw: chem answers? 
+
“And then he called me his friend,” you say angrily, handing Aiko the box of Oreos. The two of you are sprawled on the floor of her dorm room. “Just like we were two bros who got together to play XBox every once in a while, instead of two people who had literally just banged.” 
Aiko takes a cookie before handing them back to you. “Asshole.”
“I mean, I know technically we were ‘friends with benefits,’” you say, stuffing an Oreo in your mouth. “But I guess I thought we could be something more. I thought there was no way he could kiss me like that, look at me like that without feeling something. Guess I was wrong.” 
“Screw him,” Aiko says. “You’ve got boys lined up around the block, and he thinks he can treat you like rubbish? Absolute bullshit.”
“I don’t have boys ‘lined up around the block,’” you remind her, smiling regardless. “Just one.”
“And that one is hella cute!” Aiko says. “You’re way too cool to pine over some guy who thinks you’ll just answer his every beck and call without even committing to a relationship.” 
You sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s just… ack. I don’t know. Am I jumping to conclusions? He seemed like he wanted to talk to me more, but I kind of stormed off without saying anything.” 
“Seems like he was pretty clear,” Aiko says with a shrug. “Your call, though. If I were you, I’d forget about him. Plus, you have Atsumu now. That’s a promising route.” 
You smile down at the Oreos, thinking about the cheery bottle blonde. “Yeah… he invited me to a party this coming Friday.” 
Aiko gives you a look and nudges your knee with her own. “You’d better wear that black dress.”
“You think?” you laugh, momentarily forgetting about Suna. 
“Oh, definitely. Gotta look your best on the first date.” 
“Right, and then after that I can just dress like a bum,” you joke. You purse your lips. “Rin might be there. Apparently he and Atsumu are pretty close.” 
“Even better,” insists Aiko. “Make him suffer a little bit. He won’t like seeing you all dolled up on Atsumu Miya’s arm.” 
“I’m not gonna try to make him jealous, Aiko,” you say, and Aiko shakes her head.
“No, I just think he needs to understand what he lost,” she says. “You don’t even have to pay attention to him at all, though. You should try and get to know Atsumu a little better.”
“Yeah, okay,” you say, before reaching down for another cookie. “Oh. We’re out.”
“Gas station run?”
“Gas station run.” 
+
When Friday rolls around, you’ve successfully managed to avoid thinking about Suna the entire day. You have a calculus exam in the morning, and then a club meeting in the afternoon, and by the time you get done with everything it’s already time to get ready to leave for the party. It’s across town at someone’s loft apartment, so Atsumu offers to give you a ride, rolling up in a shiny Lexus, a sharp contrast from Suna’s old Chevy. 
“Hey,” he says, getting out to open the door for you. “You look great.”
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you say. “Although, I might prefer the work uniform.”
“Oh, please,” Atsumu says with a grin. “That apron does nothing to flatter my figure.” 
“Mhm.” The ride there is a slightly awkward one, but that’s normal, you tell yourself. You’ve gotten so used to the easy, teasing camaraderie you and Suna have that you’re rusty in regards to flirting. Atsumu has a different sense of humor, too, nothing like the dry sarcasm Suna’s such an expert in. You shake your head. Stop thinking about him. 
Even sitting next to a new guy, you can’t help but run last weekend’s drama over in your head. The past few months have been a jumble of mixed signals, and last Saturday was no different. How he tenderly brushed your hair from your face as he hovered over you, how he pulled you into his arms afterwards … how he seemed almost jealous when you mentioned Atsumu. Was it really jealousy? Exactly how much does Suna Rintarou care for you? You roll the numbers inside your head, trying to quantify the soft touches and lingering stares. He’s not easy to read; trying to understand Suna is like trying to decipher Greek without ever taking a single class. 
Even trying to get a measure on how much you care for him is difficult. You definitely like him as more than a friend. The only reason you agreed to the whole friends-with-benefits thing in the first place was because of a little crush that grew, that fed on that intimacy… but you’re not so sure now. 
“Here we are,” says Atsumu, jolting you from your contemplation as he pulls up alongside the curb. When you climb out of the car, he takes you by the hand, flashing you a quick smile. Your heart trips over itself, and you smile back. “Let’s do this.” 
+
Suna doesn’t show up to the party. He spends most of Friday busying himself at home, paying off a couple electricity bills, cleaning out the fridge. He even does a load of laundry. That’s how bored he is. By the time the clock strikes eight, he feels as though he’s Swiffered every single kitchen tile, folded every shirt, and wiped down every counter in the entire apartment, all to avoid stewing over you and him and all the ways he keeps messing up. But after doing everything on his to-do list and watching a movie and cooking his own dinner (unheard of!) he finds himself pacing around the living room, biting at his nails and thinking about you. More specifically, you and Atsumu. He hopes you’re not wearing that little dress you wore to the club with him a couple months ago. Not that you don’t look great in it — you do, and that’s the issue. The better you look, the more likely Suna will never get a chance to be with you again. 
To be fair, he’s not entirely sure how much of a chance he’s ever had with you. You’re incredible, plain and simple. Gorgeous, intelligent, the best player two on every video game he’s ever played with you. You’re not especially adept at the games themselves; no, there’s just something about you. There’s always just been something about you he can’t seem to find anywhere else. 
“Damn it,” Suna grunts aloud, flopping down on the couch. It’s nearing half past eleven now. He wonders what you’re doing. Dancing to some shitty music in some crowded living room. Sipping a can of cheap liquor. Letting Atsumu touch your waist, his hand dipping lower and lower until — 
Suna buries his face in the couch cushion. He’s usually not one to let his imagination run away with him, but tonight seems to be one of many recent exceptions. If only there was a way to know where he stands with you, or at least where you stand with Atsumu…
Well, there is a way, actually. Almost of its own accord, his hand inches towards his phone, sliding it open and somehow finding its way into his Snapchat. Fingers shaking, Suna clicks on Osamu’s story. It’s dimly lit, a mass of bodies, loud, drunk guys and scantily clad girls. The music is too loud, even through the phone. Suna squints at the screen — there’s Aran, even Kita’s there, quietly sitting in the corner, but no sight of — Suna’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. Because there you are, and you’re not alone. You’re sitting on Atsumu’s lap, but he can’t see your expression because Atsumu is kissing you sloppily, and — oh, God — it looks like you’re kissing him back. 
And you’re wearing the fucking dress. 
“Damn,” Osamu says in the background. “Looks like he’s getting some tonight.”
Suna throws his phone across the room like it’s a grenade, staring down at his empty hands in disbelief. This can’t be happening. Not to him. Not to you. 
For the first time, Suna Rintarou thinks he understands what it really means to want someone. Not in a sexual way, but in the deepest sense of the word. Want. He wants you, and he’s pretty sure he’s never wanted anyone or anything quite so much in his life. 
All of a sudden, before his brain even has a chance to catch up, Suna finds himself shrugging on a jacket and snatching his keys from the table, dashing out the door like he’s being chased. If he leaves now, he thinks, starting the car and nearly slamming the door on his foot, he can get to the party before you leave. And then, well, then he’s not quite sure what he’ll do, but he’ll do something. 
Again, though, it seems as if the universe might be against him, because there’s an accident on the highway and it takes twice as long to get across town as it should. Suna cusses loudly over the incessant honking and chews on the inside of his cheek until it bleeds. When the traffic lets up and he finally pulls up to the apartment complex, parallel parking in a spot that’s probably illegal, he races up the stairs and into the loft, grabbing the first partygoer he sees. The poor kid’s plastered beyond belief and stares at Suna like he’s an extraterrestrial, eyes glassy.
“You see a girl leave here? ‘Bout this tall, probably left with some douchey looking blonde dude?” 
The kid blinks, hard and slow, before nodding. “Yeah, man, you just missed her. That your chick or somethin’? Because she was sucking face with —” 
Suna spins on his heel before the kid gets a chance to finish his sentence. He’s lucky Suna doesn’t deck him the head, he’s so irritated. 
“Sucking face,” he mumbles, climbing back into the car. He has the route to your house memorized (although he’s not sure how), and he’s pretty sure he breaks about twenty traffic laws trying to get there, so it takes significantly less time to arrive, but to Suna, it feels like an eternity. How did he ever sleep soundly at night knowing other guys had a shot at you before this? He doesn’t know, and he hopes he never has to worry about it again. Not after tonight. 
He gets there just as Atsumu’s pulling out of the driveway. Suna flashes him a mental middle finger and resolves to kick his ass later. No time for that right now. You’re still standing on the front porch, and when Suna stumbles out of the car, you turn towards him, mouth agape. 
“Rin? What are you—”
“Give me a chance.” He’s breathless, eyes wide and hair whipping around his face in the cool breeze. His heartbeat pounds in his ears like it’s about to burst blood vessels.
“Huh?”
“Give me a chance,” he repeats, reaching forward to take your hand. Your palm is cold against his. “I can do so much better, I promise.” 
You furrow your brows. “What in the world are you talking about, Rin?”
The dam breaks. The dam breaks, and everything — the longing, the frustration, everything — comes pouring out in a waterfall of rushing words he doesn’t even have time to think over before they splash at your feet.
“I can do so much better than Atsumu. He doesn’t know you. I know you, and I, well, I’ve liked you since forever, okay? I know your favorite color and your birthday and which Chinese place you like to get takeout from on Saturday nights.” Suna clears his throat. “I know that you like to be hugged from behind and that you hate it when people see you cry. I know so many things about you, and I want to know more.” 
“Rin—”
He holds up a hand. “Just listen. I know we’re just fuck buddies, or friends with benefits, or whatever the hell you want to call it, but I want to change that. You mean so much more to me than the sex. God, even if we never slept together again, I would still love you.” 
You stare at him. “Love?”
Suna swallows hard. “Yeah, fuck it. Love. I love you. Whatever that means to you, it means to me. I love your stupid jokes and your stupid laugh. To be honest, I’m so in love it feels like I’ll never love anyone else.”
He stops to take a deep breath and a shaky laugh. “Pathetic, right? I know it is. I can’t help it. I’m well aware that Atsumu is way more charming and outgoing, and I was probably wrong when I said he wasn’t your type… but I just need to know if I have even the smallest chance of winning you over.” 
There’s a beat of silence. Then another one. You’re gazing at him, head cocked, and the seconds tick by. He still has your hand in his, growing warmer via body heat. Suna feels himself grow increasingly nervous at your expression, curious and almost apathetic — until a wide smile breaks across your face. You laugh, and he thinks it must be the best sound he’s ever heard. 
“You weren’t wrong.”
“What?”
“He’s not my type,” you say. “We didn’t click.” 
“But — I saw, uh — Osamu’s story,” Suna stammers. “Sucking face.”
“Sucking face?” You squint in confusion before chuckling again. “Ah. Yeah, I kissed him. It was part of some stupid game. He’s kind of bad at it.” 
“Atsumu’s a bad kisser?” 
“Well,” you say, drawing the word out. “I wouldn’t say bad. It’s just… you’re better.” 
Suna’s silent for a second, letting the words ricochet around his brain. He’s better. He’s a better kisser. It was just a game. You’re not into Atsumu. “So… does that mean…?” 
“I love you, too.” You smile, and it’s not like your usual cocky grin. It’s sweet and almost… shy. 
“You love me, too?” Suna repeats in utter shock. He hadn’t expected to get this far.
“That’s what I just said,” you say. “What are you, a parrot? Speaking of which, though, I think that whole speech was the most I’ve ever heard you talk.” 
Suna doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes a step closer and pulls you in for a hug. A real hug, not like the hesitant embrace you’d given him on his birthday, or the side hug he gave you after running into you at the grocery market a few weeks ago. No, this is a true, bona fide hug, and he translates everything he’s ever wanted to tell you but couldn’t into his arms wrapping around your waist. 
“So… wanna come in and watch a movie?” 
+
A little while later, Suna’s stretched out on your mattress with you between his legs, chin resting on the top of your head. You’ve changed out of your dress and wiped the makeup from your face, and Suna catches you yawning in the corner of his eye. There’s a trashy romcom droning on your laptop at the foot of the bed. To any outside onlooker, the scene is mundane, just a typical couple enjoying each other’s company. To Suna, though, this is paradise. 
It’s almost funny. It’s funny how, a week ago, Suna was a boy pining for a girl he thought he had no chance with. He looked at you and saw something unattainable, someone who would only ever want him temporarily. (And, unbeknownst to him, you felt the same way.) He experienced an overwhelming amount of want, heart knotting in on itself and twisting and turning until it pushed him over the edge, forcing him to confront his own desires. His own inadequacies. 
It’s funny how love is what everyone longs for, but it’s also the hardest reward to earn. It’s the most uncomfortable, heart-wrenching, nerve-wracking, anxiety-inducing pathway to happiness Suna’s ever seen. But still… he’d do it all over again if he had to. The months of headaches, the overthinking. It’s worth it. You’re worth it. 
Oh, well. What can he say? Suna leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to your temples, and you tilt your head up to smile at him. Love’s a funny thing. 
Fortunately, Suna’s always down for a good joke.
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teddytommy · 2 years
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🧸{{You know what, I'm going to write a self indulging fic. Why? Because I can and nobody asked for it BUT ME. Nobody knows how to write a reader that's not female so I'm going to.}}🧸
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Flame to the match
[JUNKRAT X NB!READER]
Junkrat goes to ask the reader out, a bit too overexagarated about all the ideas. You don't mind listening to his infodumping at all.
Thick smells of grease, oil, and campfires spread across the break room. No doubt it had to be Junkrat. A single small lazy head turn had revealed it was in fact Junkrat, along with his big oaf of a best bodyguard friend,Roadhog. Despite appearances, their company was an absolute delight. Always had creative ideas for hangouts.
"Ahm-mate I got a question for ya!!" Junkrat couldn't help wiggling as his nerves got the best of him. Skin flush.
"What, do you need to know where the laboratory is?" You couldn't help but tease him. His reactions being so overdramatic, it was fun.
"No you bloody loon! That's the loo! I mean a different question!!!-" He huffed, pouting and waving his arms as he spoke. Turning to roadhog with a frustrated look.
Roadhog just huffed an airy chuckle. Not even bothering to answer to the gremlin of a man. It wasn't an order.
"ROADDIEE HELP ME HERE- they are doin' it again!" He ruffled through his own hair.
"....Do it yourself." Another huff, yet this time, a tired sigh.
"FOINE." He turned back to you. This time grabbing your shoulders. "You. Just listen to me- might be hard for you bein' a smartass 'n' all that-" he always needed the last word. "I wanted to know if you would like t' go t' the arcade 'n' shake out all the plushs. Without the big lug." He took one arm off of your shoulder and points his thumb back to roadhog. Gaining a grunt from the taller man. "No offense! No offense!" He laughed.
You slowly raised a brow. You three always hungout together. Never just two. Quickly you caught onto the fact he was asking you out. On a date. Very poorly at that. Really hard not to tease him about this, yet you give him mercy, flustering. "I don't see why not. I'd love that. You sure you JUST want to steal those? I'm sure you got some grand ideas."
Roadhog shook his head. Not wanting to listen to this man ramble anymore then needed. Starting to walk off.
"OI??? WHERE YA GOIN??" The shorter junker wasn't even mad he was leaving, he was just curious and nosy.
"...nunya." Roadhog flipped the other off from behind him.
"Cunt." Junkrat smirked, flipping him off as well.
He just belly laughed at that and shook his head. "Dick."
You joined in on the laughter. These two.
Junkrat then quickly turned back to you. Smiling widely with malice, as he does. You're used to this. "ALRIGHT I HAVE SOME IDEAS."
You couldn't help but exhale a laugh through your nose. "Of course, perfect. Tell me about them."
Saying that last sentence, you dug your grave for the next few hours of this man's brain working out loud. You didn't mind if it was him.
🧸🌹🧸🌹🧸🌹🧸
At this given time, 6:30pm, you were told to meet him in front of headquarters. You dressed with a nice white dress top and dress pants. Looking GNC as fuck. As soon as you headed out, you got to see Junkrat on the shared junkers motorbike. He dressed in an Hawaiian Tshirt and dress pants. The shirt being stained with explosive smoke and wearing dress shoes. Star sunglasses.
"Get in bitch, we are going shopping!!" Junkrat started wheezing.
You shook your head laughing. "Stop referencing that, I'll get motion sick before I even get on this damn thing, and it'll be YOUR fault." You got to hop into the sidecar.
"I won't even try to take responsibility for that! 'N' Nah! I'll keep referencing it, especially if it drives you up the wall." He threw you a pair of goggles. "Buckle down. We're speeding baby."
Catching the goggles and putting on the helmet you smirked right back at him. "Is there any other way?"
"You know there isn't when you're ridin' with rat! Let's go roo!" He started the Hog. "Ready?"
"Hell yes!"
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aemonds-sapphire · 3 years
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Slow Down — Hawks x Reader (Smut)
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Summary: Hawks was known as “the man who’s too fast for his own good”. Unfortunately, he lived up to that title in nearly every aspect of his life. Even during sex. So when he asked for your help, you just couldn’t say no.
Warnings: NSFW. Needy!Hawks (hints of sub!Hawks AND dom!Hawks). Premature ejaculation. Edging. Orgasm denial. Masturbation. Overstimulation. Vaginal fingering. Blowjob. Breathplay. Cumplay.
Word count: 2.6k
“You need to relax, Hawks.”
The muscles on his toned thighs quivered lightly before loosening up under your palms. Beads of sweat pooled along his brow line and heaving bare chest. His golden eyes would settle anywhere but on you.
You two had been at this for only five minutes, but doubt started brewing inside you as to whether or not he’d last much longer than this.
As the young hero visibly calmed down, you decided it was time to resume resume what you had been asked to do: help pro hero number two Hawks from busting his load too quickly.
Your fingers curled around his cock once more, gaining a hiss from him as his hips lifted from the couch.
He was extremely responsive to your every touch, and while that might do wonders to anyone’s ego, it would all be over too soon if caution wasn’t exercised.
See, Hawks would often joke around with “the man who’s too fast for his own good” title that had been given to him. But the joke would fall flat now that he had realized his performance in bed was hindered.
A few more slow tentative pumps along his cock and you saw him balling his fists.
“Hawks... you need to look at me while I do this.”
An exasperated groan. “I can’t.”
“You have to,” you insisted, rubbing your thumb across his leaking tip. “Otherwise, you won’t make much progress.”
“I’ll fucking cum if I look...” he rasped through gritted teeth.
His scarlet wings twitched momentarily as you leaned in to place a butterfly kiss on the tip, gathering a few drops of precum on your lips as you did so.
“I wanna...” Hawks’ deep voice suddenly emerged. “I wanna fuck your mouth.”
You licked your lips and tasted him for the first time in a while. In all honesty, you yourself weren’t sure of what you’d call whatever this was. Friends with benefits was an overkill, but calling him just your friend didn’t fit either.
So you remained stuck in this limbo.
“Look at me first,” you told him, tightening your grip around him. “Keigo!”
The young man’s eyes finally locked with yours at the mention of his real name, and you seized the moment to drag your tongue along the underside of his cock.
“Fuck... you’re the best at this... your tongue...” he started off well, but his eyes quickly fluttered shut as one hand reached out to grip your chin tightly.
You yanked away from his, chuckling at his failed attempt at asserting dominance. “Flattery will get you nowhere, bird boy. You were the one who asked for my help, so do as I say.”
You had gone as far as to look up a few methods to extend his endurance, and this was the one you ended up choosing for convenience purposes. Hawks could just easily drop by your place for a quick session.
And even though the extent of your sexual experience with Hawks was limited to a few making out sessions, some blowjobs, and him eating you out from time to time, you knew from the get go that this cock wouldn’t last long inside a pussy.
But it was never your issue; at least he never made it to be, until he asked for your help, since it proved to be quite damaging to his male ego.
He was growing impatient by the minute, but you didn’t waver, even tough the growing damp spot in your panties served as a reminder of how badly you wanted to heed is request and just suck him off right then and there.
“You’re a meanie,” he pouted as he glared at the hand pumping him. “Fuck...”
Your lips curled into a devious smile. “You’re doing great, pretty bird.”
Praising Hawks was definitely the way to his heart — and apparently to his dick as it twitched under your palm.
Seeing that he was enduring your touch without breaking eye contact, you brought your lips to close around the head of his cock; his hips immediately jolted upwards, catching you off guard as he let out a sigh of pure bliss once he was halfway buried inside your mouth.
You promptly raked your teeth across the sensitive skin, which had him sliding out at lightning speed.
“Are you serious?” You scolded his boldness.
A boyish smile curled his lips. “100%.”
You smacked his thigh. Hawks and his damn percentages.
“No teeth!” he then protested, his beautiful features twisted into a deep frown.
“Then behave.”
He merely nodded, eyeing you eagerly as you wrapped your lips around him once again. The hand you had on his thigh felt him tense up, but he was definitely getting better at controlling his instinctive reflexes. You decided to take it up a notch and stare directly into his eyes as your lips parted to take more of him. Just as you’d expected, he bucked his hips into you, but this time you let him set the pace.
“Deeper... you can take more than that,” he said in between moans, pressing his thumb on your chin to have you open your mouth wider to take his thick cock.
You decided to indulge him for a while, testing his limit. Slowly, you allowed him to guide you all the way down on him with thumb now caressing your skin as his other hand clasped around your nape to keep you in place.
Thankfully, your breathing was trained enough to have him balls deep and grazing your throat without taking a toll on you. Your nose grazed the base of his cock briefly, and you swallowed.
Hard.
“Fuck-fuck-fuuuck!” he growled, wrapping his fingers around your neck to feel the faint bulge; his hips rising from the couch to make sure he remained buried deep inside you.
That was your cue. You instantly had both hands on his thighs and pulled away, earning a disappointed cry from him.
“Fuck no! I was not even close!” Hhe whined childishly, his back slumping into the couch in defeat.
You arched an eyebrow, noticing a string of saliva dangling between your owner lip and his tip. “Yes, you were. Stop trying to dom me and just let me help.”
It was in his nature, you figured. He had been raised by the commission to be one step ahead and not let anyone take advantage of him, so you weren’t at all surprised that this translated to his intimate side as well. But for someone who was so used to being told what to do and taking orders, Hawks sucked at doing so even when it was in his best interest.
He huffed in annoyance, but remained silent.
You glared at his cock momentarily, not being able to keep your pussy from clenching. This man was annoyingly pretty. Even his long and hard cock was pretty, having a slight curve to it and a nice and round bulbous head. Your eyes then shifted to his full balls, and you brought your fingers to fondle each one carefully, drawing delicious moans from him.
“You gonna keep staring or are you gonna suck it?”
You offered a teasing smile. “You shouldn’t make demands when I have you in my hand. Literally.”
Hawks’ eyes widened slightly. “Just let me cum.”
“You sure?”
He nodded before motioning you to shift closer with his index finger. “C’mere...”
Your panties were fully soaked by now, and as much as you wanted to resist him, it was getting harder to pull away from having him coming undone because of you.
Slowly, your tongue darted out to give his tip a short lick, but this time you let his cock slide all the way in without letting go of his balls.
He stuttered incoherently. “S-Slow... go—go... slow...”
You twirled your tongue across the protruding veins, letting his shaft reach your throat easily, strings of precum mixed with your saliva began pooling around the corners on your mouth and soon started dripping down your chin. Not wanting to go overboard, you stilled, not even daring to swallow.
His hands were gripping the edge of the couch so tightly that his knuckled were turning white; it was rather obvious that he was fighting off his impending orgasm with determination.
But as soon as you started swallowing around him, allowing your throat to ripple along his cock, Hawks’ mouth fell open in a profound growl.
“I’m... I’m gonna...” his wings were stretched all the way up to the ceiling, his long red feathers vibrating rhythmically with each roll from his hips.
Yes, he was going to.
His hips jerked in a broken rhythm as he attempted to fuck your mouth, nearing his orgasm rapidly. Once he started panting heavily and his moans became ragged, you slid off his cock.
“FUCK!” Hawks yelled in sheer frustration as his hips were left bucking against nothing but cool air.
You sat back, admiring how annoyed you’d left him yet again. It was always fun to tease him like that. He wasn’t used to not having things go his way, so you made it your mission to humble him down every once in a while.
The young hero groaned through gritted teeth, burying his face in his hands. “This is evil!”
“Deep breaths,” you chose to ignore his remark, placing your hands on his quivering thighs. “Calm down, Keigo...”
His entire body was shaking from the pent up tension. He might be a pro hero, but he was still human after all; even though he wasn’t used to being edged and overstimulated, you had to admit he was doing quite well.
Except for the strangled sobs that erupted from his throat and the few tears that slid down his flushed cheeks.
“Just... let.... me... no more....” he pleaded sheepishly, wrapping his own hand around his cock and pumping it a few times in desperation.
“Keigo... deep breaths,” you said, unhooking his fingers away from him.
He shook his head, eyes closed shut. “No... let me cum... please...”
“Hands off your cock,” you told him, placing them on the edge of the couch. “Don’t touch it. You need to cool off.”
This side of him proved to be unexpectedly alluring and empowering. Having a pro hero squirming and begging and completely desperate for release was something that you didn’t know you needed to witness.
A few long minutes rolled by.
Hawks’ breathing became more even and his beautiful face was no longer contorting from the pain of having his orgasm denied for the first time ever.
Your hands caressed his relaxed thighs with every ounce of affection you could muster. “See? You did so good, baby...”
Hawks brushed sweat-damp locks of golden hair away from his forehead, his eyes fixed on yours. “This hurts... real bad...”
His hard and veiny cock was slapped flat against his lower abdomen, precum still dripping from the tip.
“I think it’s time for you to cum,” you suggested with an understanding smile.
“You think?” Hawks chuckled sarcastically, his voice filled with annoyance.
Not wanting to summon a very angry Hawks, you massaged his sack for a few seconds, enjoying how his cock twitched with each stroke.
“Go on. Fuck my mouth.”
As soon as those words left your mouth, he lunged forward to grip his cock and have his hand grasp the back of your head.
His predatory instinct finally took over. “Open.”
You promptly complied, and he wasted no time shoving his cock inside you.
“Wider,” he grunted, forcing your chin down with his thumb. This sudden shift in his demeanor caused you to struggle to taking in all of it while trying to control your breathing through your nose.
Big mistake.
Hawks quickly caught on to what you were attempting to do, and he pinched your nose with his index finger and thumb.
“Told you,” he growled in satisfaction, watching you swallow his entire cock. “Deeper.”
Your eyes were stinging with tears from and you felt your swollen clit throb as he kept himself lodged in your throat. His other hand wrapped around your throat once again.
“Swallow.”
Your vision began to blur, but you told yourself to relax even though you struggled to breathe.
You swallowed once before he finally let go of your nose, fully enjoying how you were gasping around him and feeling his cock swelling up your neck through his fingers. You had tried breath play with him once, but this time it felt rougher an aroused you far more. He wasn’t usually this hungry, but then again you had never taunted him this much.
His hips rose at a fast pace as he fucked your mouth mercilessly, grunting and praising you. You weren’t able to keep the drool from spilling out and down your chin with each thrust.
“Touch yourself.”
You looked up in surprise, but readily slid one hand downwards and shoved it inside your panties, so you could finally relieve some of the tension that had built up in your swollen clit.
A low moan rippled through you throat as you rubbed yourself.
“Do that again... do...” he panted, completely lost in pleasure as his wings quivered around him steadily.
Sliding one finger inside your drenched pussy, you started fingering yourself, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming sensation.
“I’m gonna... fuck....”
Your other hand was gripping his thigh to keep yourself stable, and as he quickened the pace, you found out that he was defying your gag reflex.
“You gonna swallow all of it...” he grunted with a final jerk of his hips, burying himself so deep inside you that your nose was fully pressed against the base of his cock.
Tears streamed down your face as hot sprays of cum started spurting down your throat, and you struggled to keep it all down, the excess mixing up with your saliva and dripping from your mouth.
Hawks let out an animalistic growl as he emptied himself inside you, and you found yourself facing yourself with two fingers, riding after your on high as he massaged your throat.
“So pretty...” he panted, pulling his cock out and pressing your head to rest on his thigh. “Wanna cum, too?”
You nodded tiredly, feeling your spit running down the side of his thigh, but you just couldn’t help from keeping your mouth open as you gasped in pleasure.
“C’mere.” He ended up saying, helping you to get on your feet and to sit on his lap. “I’ll do that.”
He brushed his thumb across your chin to wipe off the mixture of cum and spit and brought it to his lips to taste it.
“Good?” You smiled in surprise.
He flashed you his trademark wide grin. “Amazing. Now, let me help.”
You welcomed his invitation, and lowered your head to rest on his shoulder, his hot body fully pressed against yours.
Two long fingers slipped inside your pussy and he started fingering you rapidly, making sure his palm rubbed your swollen clit. It didn’t take you long to get washed over in your own orgasm. It probably had something to do with how good he was with his fingers, but also because you had managed to edge yourself from edging him. How ironic.
Hawks planted a kiss on your forehead, enveloping both of you with his large wings. “That was quick. Maybe you need some help too, eh?”
A low chuckled rumbled in your chest. “Don’t flatter yourself, Keigo. It was like 70% built up tension from edging you.”
“Just 30% from my fingers?” He feigned hurt.
You paused for a few seconds. “Maybe 20%?”
“And the other 10%?”
“From my fingers,” you shot sticking out your tongue to him teasingly.
He clicked his tongue. “So my fingers are better than yours. Noted.”
“That was not what I meant!” You laughed, not at all surprised by his deduction.
“Math never lies,” he winked adoringly.
Yes. You were definitely going to stick around to help him with this.
-
Masterlist
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makeste · 3 years
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I like Bakuguo but his attitude is starting to really piss me off. He's talking about Daku as if he's just ~crazy~ and as if he isn't partly to blame for Deku's toxic self-worth issues. It's infuriating to watch. If Bakuguo doesn’t admit out loud and in front of his friends that his bullying of Deku played a part in Deku's current destructive state and if he doesn’t verbally apologize and reaffirm Deku's worth then I can no longer like Bakuguo's character or Hori's writing.
tbh I don't really know why this is the discourse of choice for people all of a sudden, but this is already the second ask I've gotten about it, so I might as well address it lol.
I think fandom is conflating fanon!Deku and canon!Deku here again. fanon Deku is of course much more sensitive and woobified and has much shakier self-esteem. fanon Deku is the one that turns evil in so many AUs because of Kacchan's bullying. fanon Deku is the one that actually jumps off the roof in so many fics, as opposed to fishing his notebook back out of the pond a few minutes later grumbling about how Kacchan needs to think before he speaks or else he could land himself in serious shit one day if god forbid anyone actually does take his cruel words to heart.
and just to clarify before I get any further, I am not saying this to excuse Kacchan's actions in any way, because what he did was still completely terrible and unacceptable and WAY over the line, and what's more he knew it, too. the bullying was still shitty and horrible and awful, and definitely impacted Deku and made him miserable. I fully acknowledge that, and that Kacchan has a lot of atoning to do for it. this is not a "Kacchan did nothing wrong" post.
but that being said, I don't think canon Deku's reckless self-sacrificing nature actually has anything to do with the bullying. I think they're two completely separate things. canon Deku actually has pretty decent self-esteem in spite of everything Kacchan did to him. canon Deku doesn't think he is useless. canon Deku had a wholeass fight with Kacchan less than 10 chapters into the series in which he explicitly spelled it out for Kacchan that he had a lot of worth, and was going to prove it to him. canon Deku was persistent in wanting to become a hero and hoping and believing that he could find some way in spite of being quirkless. canon Deku never let go of that dream even when no one else supported it. I don't think he would have even given up on it after being told no by All Might, tbh -- we just never got to see how it would have played out because of everything that happened with the sludge monster shortly afterward. but he's not the type to ever give up on something that easily, and we've seen that. canon Deku never thought he was useless, but rather wanted to prove to everyone else that he wasn't.
the drive that Deku has to save and protect others even at the expense of his own safety is something entirely separate from that. he doesn't break his body for others simply because he has no self-esteem and thinks that his own life isn't important. he does it because he can't stand the thought of someone else getting hurt, and knowing that he could have done something to prevent it. it's as simple as that. like, Spider-Man has the whole "with great power comes great responsibility" thing, right? and he doesn't have low self-esteem; he simply believes that if he has the ability to help someone else, then he has a responsibility to help them. it's a personal creed. and Deku is based on Spider-Man. his philosophy is based on that philosophy, which was one of Horikoshi's core influences and is one of the core creeds in superhero fiction.
Deku is self-destructive not because he doesn't value himself, but because he is literally physically incapable of standing back and doing nothing if he knows that he can do something. he's the type of person who sees a car speeding towards someone and leaps in to push them out of the way. NOT because he wants to get himself fucking pancaked by a speeding car, but simply because he can't sit back and watch the other person get hurt without taking action. his body moves before he can think. and that's where the whole "doesn't take himself into account" thing comes in -- the fact that his thought process simply stops at "get them out of the way of the car", and never extends beyond that to "hey, and maybe I should try to find a way to do this that doesn't involve me getting hit in their place." to him, that's simply less important than the first priority, which is getting the other person out of the way.
and regarding that last part, while that may seem like a self-worth issue if he's prioritizing everyone else above himself, I think what it actually is just selflessness taken to extremes. like for instance, when a parent sacrifices themselves to save their child, them placing the child's life above their own isn't necessarily because they don't see themselves as having value. rather, it's that they love the child so much that they place their well-being even above their own. and that's what Deku is like as well. except that in his case he cares about EVERYONE, and so is willing to sacrifice himself for anyone. and that selflessness is his defining character trait, and simultaneously the most admirable and the most terrifying thing about him. it's both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness, which I think is fascinating to explore.
but anyway, so that's also why we never really see anyone thoroughly chewing him out for this behavior either. because the thing is, it is admirable how selfless he is. it's just that there's also a reason why most people are at least a little bit selfish. and that's because too much selflessness will ultimately and inevitably wind up getting you killed. at some point you either have to learn when to put the oxygen mask on yourself first, or else find yourself a loyal group of friends (or classmates) to watch your back, and make sure that mask gets on you when you need it. and maybe help you land the plane too while they're at it.
anyway so that was a lot of rambling, but basically it all boils down to three things:
when Deku berates himself for being useless (for instance at the end of the War arc), he's doing it out of frustration for not being able to push the others out of the way of the metaphorical car. that's the kind of uselessness he can't stand. the sitting-back-and-doing-nothing uselessness.
Kacchan's bullying was terrible, and it might have indeed played a part in Deku's choice of the word "useless" as a way of berating himself in these instances, but he is not the one who gave Deku this mindset of taking himself out of the equation. that's something that was already inherent to Deku from day one. (but that said, Kacchan has a lot of things to apologize to Deku for anyway, so if he wants to add this to the list I certainly won't stop him. he gets mad about Deku's suicidal attitude because it worries him, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he doesn't feel responsible for it. people underestimated his feelings of atonement before 284/285, and I think they're still underestimating him now.)
and lastly, one last important note, which is that Deku's current "saving" mindset isn't wrong, just as Kacchan's "winning" mindset was not wrong either. the lesson to be learned here is NOT that being selfless and wanting to save other people is bad. rather, it's the fact that he's trying to do it alone that's got him all fucked up right now. basically when you think about it, selflessness is really just selfishness on someone else's behalf. which means that in order for Deku to be saved, it isn't necessary for him to change his outlook or his selfless attitude, even if it is pretty crazy lol. rather, all he really needs is a good group of friends who are willing to act selfishly on his behalf in return. protecting each other through mutual selflessness lol. teamwork as self-preservation. hence why the U.A. kids are here now.
anyway so yeah, I think that's everything. sorry this got so long and out of control lol. this is just a very specific nuanced thing that's hard for me to express, but which I feel is very important when it comes to Deku's character. Kacchan didn't unleash Depressed Nomad Deku on the world (or at least not in this respect). but that being said, he and the others will hopefully be the ones to nudge him back on the right course again.
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wandaromanova · 3 years
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Can u do a fic where fem!reader and Nat are broken up and they’re pretty hostile with each other but when one of them gets hurt on a mission they realize they’re still in love and get back together thank u if u write this :)))))))
I Love You
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: cussing, violence, that’s it i believe
A/N: hi! i hit 300 followers! i posted my very first story 3 weeks ago and only had like 10 followers then. i can’t even begin to express how grateful i am that i’ve been able to bring people joy (or pain lol) with my stories. thank you. not proofread. <3
Summary: Ex-lovers Natasha and Y/N dance around their feelings for each other. They decide that hostility was the best course of action.
Word Count: 2.5K
(gif is not mine)
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You and Natasha dated for a year and a half before you guys decided to call it quits. It was a mutual agreement, but there was still some sort of bad blood between the both of you that was painfully obvious. The tension could be cut with a knife.
You guys were going great at first. You both understood each other on a level that no one else could. You would do typical couple things in order to compensate for the lack of stability and domesticity you’ve both had in your lives. Movie nights, designated date nights, cuddle sessions in the late hours of the night, and literally every other cliche there was in the book.
However, you and Natasha were both raised in similar environments. From young ages, you guys were trained to conceal your true emotions and that love was for children. So, communicating with one another was something that the both of you didn’t know how to do.
You didn’t try to communicate and neither did she; and there lied the problem. Natasha would absolutely freak on you if you so much as looked at another person. You would get upset if Natasha went on a mission without informing you first. There were so many pointless arguments that occurred between you and Natasha. Arguments that could’ve been avoided or solved if you guys were able to just talk to each other.
You would say that you guys did talk… just in a higher volume than normal conversation. The yelling between you both could be heard throughout the compound. Most times, you would get so fed up and tired from the arguing, that you didn’t even know why you guys were fighting anymore. It wasn’t healthy and you knew it.
You and Natasha never once told each other the big three words. That was a line neither of you dared to cross. Like the Red Room and The Academy taught you both, love was a weakness and was nothing more than a concept believed by children. You’d like to think that actions spoke louder than words, though.
You could feel the love between you both in the way you would hold onto one another after a mission had gone wrong. You could feel it in the way Natasha worried and panicked when you’d come back from a mission with so much as a scratch above your eyebrow. However, you still could not bring yourself to tell her how you felt. Not that it would matter now, considering you guys had broken up.
It’s been five months since the breakup, and at first your plan of action was to be civil with your ex-girlfriend, but she had other plans. Natasha would bark out snarky remarks whenever you would speak up during team meetings. She began to give you cold glares whenever you walked into a room. God forbid you would even breathe in her direction, she would storm out of a room at the speed of light if you did so.
So, you began to act the same way she was. Okay, yes, it was extremely childish thinking. You should be mature, regardless of how Natasha was treating you, but you couldn’t be civil anymore. So you would treat her just as harshly as she did you. You’d send her sharper glares than she would give you. You’d never listen to anything she had to add during mission meetings, being sure to make it obvious you weren’t paying attention. And you would always counter her hostile comments that were directed towards you.
The team was currently sat in a meeting. You and Natasha were meant to be sent on a mission together, to which you both immediately objected.
“Steve, do I really have to go with that over there? I’d rather go myself and risk dying than go with her.” Natasha pointed in your direction and you were immediately offended by her statement.
“No, I would rather go and die than have to hear one more word out of your god damn mouth. You’re such a bitch.” You spoke as you stood up from your seat, Natasha following suit. Natasha walked across the room and stopped in front of you. She harshly shoved a finger against your chest.
“What the fuck did you just call me? You better take it back before I make sure you never talk again.” Natasha glared at you intensely as she stared into your eyes. You returned her stare with a bored expression on your face.
“I said you’re a bitch. What are you going to do about it, Widow?” You asked her challengingly. Natasha moved to pounce on you, but Bucky, who was sitting next to your spot, sprung in and intervened.
“Let her go Barnes. I’d love to kick her ass.” You smirked as your words only enraged Natasha more. She struggled against Bucky’s grip, trying to free herself so she could pound your face into the floor, but she couldn’t break free.
“Okay! Enough. Natasha, you’re off the mission. Y/N, you’re with me. We leave in 10.” Steve spoke with conviction in his voice, fed up with the pair of you. Natasha stopped resisting Bucky’s hold as he slowly let her go. You looked at her with one harsh glare before you took the mission file that was on the table and walked out of the room. As you left, everyone in the room stared at Natasha. She huffed and stormed out of the room as well.
•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•
You and Steve were currently staked out in a van. You guys were spying on one of the leaders of Hydra and an infamous weapons dealer. The man was currently having a lunch with the dealer. You had been sitting there together for about an hour. You were bored out of your mind and pissed that you couldn’t get Natasha out of your mind. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for thinking about how hot she looked when she pissed. The way her eyes would widen, showing off more of her green irises as her eyebrows furrowed together in anger. The way her chest rose and fell as she took deep breaths. God, she had such nice boobs.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Fury’s voice coming in through comms. “Okay, we evacuated civilians off of the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Remember, wait until they’re in front of the alley before you attack. They may have weapons.” Fury informed you both and you looked onto the monitor to confirm the empty street. Sure enough, there wasn’t a civilian in sight; good.
Steve replied with a quick “okay” before movement from the door of the restaurant caught your attention. “Steve, there they are. Move out, now.” You spoke as you loaded your gun and attached it to your hip. You and Steve jumped out of the van. Steve threw his shield and hit both of the men with it. His shield came back to him as if ricocheted off of the men.
Your gun was pointed at the both of them as you guys approached them. “Meeting in broad daylight? Doesn’t seem like a smart move for two supposedly genius people.” You spoke as Steve searched the two men for any weapons. They didn’t have any. That should’ve been a red flag, but you weren’t in the right state of mind right now.
Suddenly, another van pulled up in front of the alleyway, right behind the vehicle you both had just exited. Hydra Agents with semi-automatic guns filed out of the van. Fuck. You guys were set up. Steve shared a look with you before he threw his shield toward the men and knocked the guns out of a few of the agent’s hands.
You began to fire towards the men with your own gun. You shot them in the shoulders, sending them flying to the ground in pain. You and Steve made quick work of the men and soon enough, there were unconscious men littered across the floor.
You and Steve turned back to the two men you had previously captured as they laid on the floor in shock. They really thought their little stunt would work? Pathetic. Unfortunately, one of the Hydra agents was still conscious. You and Steve failed to notice the movement behind your backs. The man pointed a nearby gun at you and fired 5 shots at you. He missed three of them, but managed to land two into your abdomen.
You fell to the ground as Steve whipped around and actually knocked the man unconscious this time. “Fury, we need backup! L/N is down!” He spoke frantically into comms as he applied pressure to your wounds. Your eyes were open in shock as you tried to process what just happened. You were shot. It really did hurt like a bitch. What are those black spots? God, I want Natasha right now. Wait, what? No, it’s just the blood loss talking.
You fell unconscious as soon as the backup S.H.I.E.L.D agents appeared on the scene. You were rushed back to the Avengers Compound in one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s vehicles, Steve following you after ensuring the two men were detained. As soon as the car made it to the compound, your unconscious body was placed onto a gurney and you were being rushed to the medical wing.
As your body was being rolled through the halls of the compound, you were pushed by the doctors past Natasha. She did a double take and quickly turned around to confirm what she had just saw. Her heart sunk to her stomach at the sight of your limp, blood-covered body. She ran after you without a second thought, fear and dread taking over.
Natasha tried to enter the medical wing where they had just taken you, but she was stopped by a strong hand abruptly placing itself onto her shoulder. “Nat, we need to let them take care of her. We’d only be disturbing them and we need their focus to 100% be on Y/N.” Steve said in an attempt to convince the redhead to stop her plan of barging into the room like a madwoman. Natasha took one last glance at the door before she heavily sighed and walked to the wall across the door. She slid her back slowly against the wall and placed her head in her hands.
“What happened, Rogers?” Natasha asked, afraid of hearing the answer. Steve went over the events of the mission, and all Natasha could think was that she should’ve been there with you. She would’ve jumped in front of that bullet to save you in a heartbeat because she loved you. Wait. She loved you? Holy fuck! She loved you!
Natasha’s heart rate increased rapidly at her self revelation. She has loved you this entire time. God, she was so fucking blind. How could she not see what was right in front of her? She was madly in love with you. She let the things the Red Room drilled into her affect your relationship. Now, she wasn’t sure if she’d have the opportunity to make it up to you. That thought scared Natasha more than any mission ever could.
•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•
1 hour later
An hour later, and the entire team was sprawled across the hallway of the medical wing. Wanda sat beside Natasha on the floor, comfortingly holding her hand. The rest of the team just stood, anxiously and impatiently waiting to hear about your status.
At the sound of the medical bay door opening, Natasha shot up from her spot on the floor and looked towards Helen Cho. “What’s her status? Is she okay? Did she make it?” Natasha immediately fired off questions at the Doctor. The team stood firmly behind Natasha as they looked at Dr. Cho, their eyes asking her the same questions Natasha did.
“She coded on the table a few times. The bullets hit some major arteries, but we managed to stop the bleeding. If she had arrived even a minute later than she did, she wouldn’t have made it.” The relief of the good news radiated off of earth’s mightiest heroes. Natasha almost let tears escape her eyes, but quickly blinked them back.
“Can I see her?” Natasha asked desperately. “Yes you can, but shes still asleep. The anesthesia was very strong so she’ll be out for a few more hours.” Helen spoke as she opened the door for Natasha. She entered and let out a sigh of relief as she caught sight of your chest rising and falling steadily. Natasha grabbed a nearby chair and placed it right beside your bed. She lightly stroked your hair before she gripped your hand.
•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•
3 hours later
You groaned as you slowly open your eyes and were met with an obnoxiously bright light hovering over you. You heard some shuffling before the light was shut off. You turned your head towards the other person in the room and you rolled your eyes at who it was.
“If you’re here to be an asshole, please leave. I’m not in the mood for it.” You spoke as you watched Natasha sit back down in the chair next to your bed.
“I’m not here for that. I wanted to apologize, Y/N. You were right, I was a bitch. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you, but I was just afraid.” Natasha began to speak as she seemingly appeared nervous. You’ve never seen her nervous before, you’re pretty sure no one ever has.
“I was so terrified because I love you. Everyone I love ends up leaving me, and I couldn’t watch you leave me. So, I thought it was best if I beat you to the punch.” Natasha looked down to her lap and played with her fingers absentmindedly. Your eyes widened as far as they could go at Natasha’s words. She loved you. She actually, verbally said it. That’s a huge fucking deal.
“I know my logic may not make the best sense, but what does make sense is the fact that I love you. I always have and I was just too stupid to tell you. I’m sorry, I love you so much.” Natasha spoke as she tore her gaze from her hands and up to your eyes.
You reached your hand out for hers and she shakily took your hand in hers. You almost let out a gasp at the contact, you missed her touch so much. “I won’t ever leave you, Natasha because I love you too. I’m sorry too. I was just as afraid as you were. We were both stupid.” You let out a little laugh at your last words. Natasha let out a chuckle as a tear fell from her eyes. Oh god, you’ve never seen her cry either.
“You scared me. I thought you weren’t going to make it. When I saw your body being wheeled down here…. all the blood… I-“ Natasha words were cut off as you smashed your lips against hers. You winced as the pain from your gunshot wounds radiated across your body, but you couldn’t care less about that right now. The only thing that mattered in this moment was that the woman you loved, loved you too. You’d never be afraid to express your love for her ever again.
───────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────────
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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years
Text
Germs [Reid x Reader]
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this gif isn’t mine
Summary: Reader is sure the resident BAU genius doesn’t like her, but she’s not sure why. But even if he did like her, he’s a germaphobe, so he wouldn’t be comfortable with the things she wants to do to him...would he?
Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader
Word Count: 5.6k
Rating: Mature 
Category: Fluff and Smut 
Content Warning: Brief mentions of torture and violence, usually criminal minds stuff, nothing explicit. Light choking, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, language (maybe?) 
A/n: I have come out of fan fiction writing retirement for this one. Let me know what y’all think!  masterlist
y/n - your name
y/l/n - your last name
italicized text is Reader’s sassy inner thoughts
---
I’m not sure if I believe in hell, but if there is a hell, I’m sure it feels exactly like Louisiana in July. Every time I walked outside I felt like I was walking into soup. Gross. I couldn’t help but feel guilty over my sigh of relief when I walked back into the local precinct the team was currently working out of. Young women are dying, and I’m worried about a little bit of heat.
But, fuck, it was hot.
Speaking of heat, I thought as I threw open the door to the conference room only to run smack into the hottest thing I’d ever encountered.
“Shit,” I exclaimed before I thought better of it. “I’m so sorry.” I ran my eyes up, up, up, all the way up his body until I met his eyes; those beautiful honey brown eyes that threatened to have me acting like an idiot if I stared into them for too long.  
Dr. Spencer Reid’s cheeks were tinged pink, his posture stiff, his fingers clutching the file he was carrying for dear life. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he sounded uncomfortable, which made my stomach drop. “My fault.” With that, he quickly maneuvered around me and headed off to complete whatever genius task he had to complete.
My eyes followed him until he was out of sight before I mentally shook myself. ‘C’mon, this is pointless,’ I thought. ‘He doesn’t even like you.’ Which I really thought was true, the good doctor went out of his way to avoid me whenever possible. ‘Plus, he’s a germaphobe.’ This thought was confirmed true. He didn’t shake people’s hands, the only people I’d seen him touch during my time at the BAU were members of the team that he’d known for years, and some of those even seemed reluctant.
Admittedly, I didn’t know a lot about germaphobia; since I couldn’t ask the only genius I knew, I did the next logical thing. I googled it. Every person I’d read about seemed to experience germaphobia differently. Some people could have sex, but others were grossed out by the very idea. Knowing my luck, Spencer Reid and his beautiful hands, and his soulful eyes, and his cheekbones that could cut glass was in the repulsed by sex category. Which is fine! Right, it is fine to not be interested in sex; the only problem was I was very interested in every part of him.  
Maybe he thinks I’m gross. Maybe I stink? Maybe he’s just repulsed by my very presence. Regardless, I couldn’t see Spencer Reid ever shoving me against a wall and fucking me senseless.
I sighed, making my way over to the conference table, pulling out a chair before I flopped into it. I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. We had been in Louisiana for almost a week now and we were still no closer to finding our unsub. He was a white man, he worked in a lower-paying job, and he hated women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow it down much.
The unsub was targeting women in clubs and bars, following them outside before he bashed them on the back of the head. After that, he threw the girls over his shoulder and took them to his car; he moved them to a secondary location before he tortured them. The first two victims had survived. They were traumatized, but they were fighters; they both said the same things, ‘he kept my eyes covered the entire time,’ “I never saw his face,’ ‘I did whatever he told me to do.’
We thought the killing of the third victim had been an accident, but that accident had excited our guy enough that he changed his ritual; the killing was crucial now. We had 4 bodies, 2 live victims that couldn’t tell us anything, and no leads.
Sighing, I leaned forward, bringing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I hated feeling helpless. The answer to who this fucker was is in this evidence somewhere and I will find it. If it’s the last thing I do.
The doors swung open again, pulling me from my thoughts. Hotch lead the parade of people, followed by Morgan, JJ, and Dr. Reid. Our unit chef looked gravely serious…not that that necessarily meant anything, in the 6 months I’d been with the behavioral analysis unit I hadn’t seen him have any other expression.
Morgan pulled out his phone, hitting what I suspected was speed dial number 1. “Hey baby girl,” he said, without his usual swagger; even he was tired. “You’re on speaker. You’ve got me, Hotch, JJ, Reid, and Y/l/n.”
“And I have the always wonderful Emily Prentiss, and the dashing David Rossi on the line, effectively putting my favorite people together again, as they should be,” Garcia quipped. I don’t think she meant to include me in her list of ‘favorite people,’ but it made me smile anyway. “Okay, crime fighters, what’s the play?”
“We’re still no closer to finding the unsub,” Hotch began. “He’s highly organized, methodical, and paranoid; but he hasn’t killed in 3 days, this is a break from his escalation pattern. He’s going to strike soon.” Hotch leaned over resting his palms on the shiny fake wood of the conference table. “Our best chance is to send an agent out there as bait.” There was a general murmur of agreement before he continued on. “Garcia, we need you to find all of the night clubs, bars, and whatever else you can think of in the updated comfort zone.”
The sound of keys clicking made its way through the speaker. “Assuming we’re excluding the places he’s already hit, that leaves us with 3 possibilities.”
“So far he hasn’t struck a place twice,” Prentiss chimed in. “Do we think he’s going to hold to that pattern?”
Reid moved over to the board where the map of the county was displayed. “I think so. This guy is too careful to risk going to a place where he’s been before. The chance of him being recognized is too great, especially when everyone is on high alert.” He gestured to the area he had circled on the map. “His pattern seems to be focusing in on this center point right here,” he said, placing a pin in the map. “This area means something. Garcia, what is the closest club or bar to the intersection of Washington Avenue and Harrison Street?”
“That would beeeeee…The Blue Fox.”
“That’s where he’ll be,” Dr. Reid said confidently, his eyes moving to Hotch’s face.
The older man nodded. “It’s our best lead so far, we have to run with it.”
“It’s Friday night,” Rossi pointed out. “We’ll have to act soon.”
Hotch nodded, seeming to be lost in thought. “We need to send agents in there tonight. We know the victims were all on dates or flirting with a man right before their abduction. He targets women that are happy with their companions then waits til he can separate them.”
“Who are you planning on sending in, Hotch?’ JJ questioned.
“Y/l/n is the youngest, she fits the build of the previous victims the best.” His heavy gaze rested on me. “What do you think?”
Like it was even a choice. “I’m in.”
Hotch nodded, accepting my answer. “Good. You’ll partner with Reid.”
“What?!” I squawked, much to my embarrassment. I cleared my throat before I continued. “But, Reid and I…I just thought Morgan would be the obvious choice.” Fuck, I’m just digging a bigger hole.
Morgan gave me an easy smile. “You’re just saying that because you wanna see my moves, little mama.”
Hotch cleared his throat, bringing our attention back. “Morgan is too intimidating; the unsub might not move in if he feels too threatened. You’ll go with Reid.” When he was met with silence he continued on, “alright, let’s get to work.”
-
And that is how I wound up in a club in Louisiana on a Friday night, in a tight black dress, with Spencer Reid beside me. After he walked into the club holding my hand. He doesn’t hold hands, I cringed internally at the thought. He must feel so uncomfortable.
He waved the bartender over, ordering a drink for me and a water for himself before turning to me. “I thought a drink would loosen you up a bit. You look nervous.”
I am nervous. “Right. Thanks.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, my gaze sweeping around the club for anyone who seemed out of place and especially creepy. Most lone men at clubs and bars were creepy, but we need especially creepy.
“Is that because you don’t think I can have your back?”
My head snapped back around. “What?”
Spencer paused to accept the drinks from the bartender, sliding him the money. “In the conference room. You seemed upset that Morgan wasn’t going to be your partner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Is that because you think I wouldn’t have your back?”
Fuck. I blushed to the roots of my hair. “No, Spencer! God no! It’s not that, I know you’d have my back.” I took a sip of my drink before I said anything else. “It’s just that…you don’t seem to like me very much, and I know you have a thing about germs, and I thought maybe that’s why you didn’t like me.” I was babbling; I was absolutely babbling. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, that’s all. Morgan has never seemed uncomfortable around me, so…” I trailed off lamely.
The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement. “So, you didn’t want to partner with me on this because you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable?”
I nodded, fidgeting with the straw in my drink.
Spencer moved closer to me, his right hand coming to rest on the small of my back. He seemed as calm as he could be, meanwhile I suddenly had trouble breathing.
It’s for the case. He has to do this for the case. Calm down.
"What do my issues with germs have to do with this?" he wondered, leaning closer to me. I could feel his breath on my neck; my skin broke out in goosebumps.
Double fuck. “Well, we’re supposed to be…together. And you think I’m gross. What if you have to kiss me?” TRIPLE FUCK. “Not that we’d have to kiss,” I tried to backpedal. “But we might, you never know. And I just didn’t…I don’t want you to dislike me more than you do.”
The teasing smile slipped from his face, the fingers on my lower back flexing slightly. He regarded me with a tilt of his head. "You're serious?" At my shaky nod, he continued. "Y/n, I don't think you're gross."
“You don’t?” I squeaked.
He lifted his hand from my back then, sliding it up to my shoulder, his free hand moving from the bar to rest on my hip. Spencer brushed my hair back before he leaned forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I felt his lips touch the tender skin of my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, unable to suppress a gasp at the contact. Spencer Reid’s beautiful lips slid down to the place where my neck and shoulder met, then I felt his teeth nip the skin before he placed another kiss there. He worked his way back up towards my ear, the hand on my hip moving slightly so he was almost grabbing my ass. “I don’t think you’re gross,” he breathed, causing me to shudder. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Germs don’t bother me in that way, especially around people I know. I wouldn’t have a problem kissing you, baby.”
I was going to need new panties after this. Spencer Reid, awkward, sweet, Dr. Spencer Reid just called me Baby.
“…Oh.” Really, y/n. Oh; you went with oh?
The good doctor pulled back, his face close enough to mine that I could see that he had freckles under his eyes and that those beautiful eyes got more golden towards the center. "Oh."
-
Michael Watkins was the name of our unsub. He was a short white man with a receding hairline and a bad temper. His last relationship had ended 3 months before the first attack; Spencer was right to pick this bar. Shortly after he tried to make my pussy combust with his neck kisses, Reid suggested I walk to the bathroom, assuring me he’d be watching if anyone followed.
Watkins’ hand was in my hair, dragging me outside before I made it to the ladies’ room. I felt a jolt of fear as I struggled to escape, strands of hair being ripped from my head. I shouldn’t have worried, because no sooner had the outside door opened than I heard the velvety voice of Derek Morgan. “FBI! Put your hands where we can see them.”
He attempted to run. Why would anyone try to run from Derek Morgan?  
After the medics confirmed I was okay, I was sent back to the hotel while the rest of the team went with the local police to book Watkins and try to get a full confession.
“Good work,” Hotch said, his hand clapping down on my shoulder.
The highest praise I’ll ever need.
I hopped into the shower right when I got back to my room, not wanting Watkins’ touch on me for a moment longer.
Spencer’s touch, however,…That was a touch I wouldn’t mind having on me. But he’d barely looked at me once he made it outside. I knew he was being affectionate in there because of the case, we were playing a role. I knew that. I still couldn’t stop the twinge of hurt I felt.
But he doesn’t think I’m gross. That had to count for something.
I had just got done blow drying my hair enough so that it wouldn’t look too crazy when I woke up when there was a knock on my door. Figuring it was Emily, I didn't consider the fact that I was in my pajamas, and my face was scrubbed free of makeup.  
It wasn’t Emily. Spencer Reid stood on the other side of my door, his eyes running down my body before he met my bewildered stare again. “You look comfy,” he commented with that damn little smile on his lips again.
“Oh. Yeah. I took a shower.” Way to go, y/n, you’re really killing it tonight.
“I see that,” he said, his cheeks going a little bit pink. “Can I come in? I thought we should talk.” Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous?
I ushered him in, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bottom edge of my bed; his body angled towards the headboard. I briefly debated about where to sit before I joined him. Don’t make it weird, y/n.
He cleared his throat before he began. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. I just wanted to make sure we got the guy.”
Right. “Oh, it’s okay, Spencer. I get it. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” I picked at the frayed edge of my sleep shorts, my eyes dropping so he didn’t see anything on my face that betrayed how I was feeling; you can’t be too careful around profilers.
His hand reached out to cover my own fidgeting hands, one of his hands covering both of mine. His hands were so big. His fingers were so long, the veins in his hands were so pronounced. I bet those fingers would feel really – FOCUS.
“I’m also sorry you thought I didn’t like you.” His thumb had started to move slowly over the back of my hand. “I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. I just…” I brought my gaze back up to meet his eyes. “I just get nervous sometimes.”
“You didn’t seem nervous in the club.”
“No,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t nervous then because it was my job. I wasn’t worried about misreading a signal…doing the wrong thing…I’m not the best with social cues.” I had noticed that about him before. “But I am a really good profiler.” And he’s humble too, apparently.
“I know that you couldn’t fake your reaction to me in the club. Your breathing became quicker, I felt your pulse jump under my lips when they were on your neck. I saw how blown your pupils got." He shifted closer to me then, bringing his other hand up to push my hair behind my shoulder like he did earlier in the night. "Just like they are now."
He leaned closer to me, his voice was lower, and it made my stomach flutter. "You're clenching your thighs together, Y/n. Your shirt may be baggy, but I can see how hard your nipples are too." His tongue ran out to wet his lips. "If I'm wrong, just tell me now. If I've misread this, I will leave right now, and we can pretend this never happened." Spencer brought both his hands up to cradle my face; despite how wet my panties were, how tight my nipples are, how badly I wanted him to touch me, this gesture made me feel special. He was holding me like he actually cared about me like I was precious. "But, if I'm not wrong, and you want this too, Y/n, tell me. Tell me you want this too and I won't stop touching you until you scream my name."
I let out a soft whimper then. Like it’s a choice. “I want this,” I leaned into his touch. “Please, Spencer.”
His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, what, baby?”
“Kiss me.”
No sooner had the words left my mouth than his lips were on mine. His lips were softer than I imagined, they were firm and almost…questioning. When I nipped at his bottom lip, something seemed to break free inside of him. His lips slanted over mine with a hunger I had never felt. His tongue ran over my bottom lip before I opened for him. Spencer’s tongue moved into my mouth while his hands moved; one hand moved back to grip my hair at the base of my skull, tugging firmly, the other moved down to my neck, not applying any pressure, just resting it there in a gesture that felt possessive.
The need for oxygen broke us apart, his lips moving across my cheek to my jaw, then down to my neck. “How could you think I didn’t like you?” he mumbled into my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me. None.”
I threw my head back when he sucked on my pulse point, a moan ripping from my throat. “W-what…what do I do?”
Pulling back from me, he gripped the bottom of my shirt, looking at me for consent before he pulled it over my head. His eyes were firmly on my chest, his lips parted, his breathing heavy. He pushed me down slowly on the bed; I was on my back and he was hovering over me. I felt his mouth place hot, wet, kisses from my collarbone down towards my breasts. His right hand landed on my breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over my nipple while his lips moved closer and closer to my left. I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him forward.
“You want to know what you do to me?” he raised his head slightly, making sure my eyes were on him when he flicked his tongue over my nipple, causing me to gasp. “What do you do to me in your little skirts, with your little smiles, and your little laughs?” He gave my nipple a sharp pinch. “You’re all I fucking think about, y/n.” With a growl, he finally took my nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. He switched to the other breast while he adjusted himself over me, bringing his pelvis down to rest at the seam of my body between my thighs. I shifted restlessly under him, trying to grind my pussy against him. He was so fucking hard.
With a groan, he lifted his head and started kissing his way towards the middle of my chest, moving down to the curve of my stomach. “Do you know how many times I came back to my hotel room after spending all day with you and was so hard I had to cum before I could think of anything else?” he peppered kisses down my body as he spoke.
My eyes shot open at this confession that he seemed to think was no big deal. “What?” I couldn’t believe this. “You…you touched yourself and thought of…”
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and panties, taking my raised hips as an invitation to remove both from my body. "You. I thought of you." He threw my clothes on the floor, pulling my legs open. His eyes moved over all of me, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. “I thought about kissing you. About making you squirm for me.” He ran his fingers up and down my thighs, his mouth running slowly over my inner thighs. Spencer’s hands hooked around my upper thighs, moving me to where he wanted me. “But, most of all, I thought about this pretty pussy.” He placed a kiss on my clit, chuckling at the wanton moan that came from me and how my fingers tangled in his soft brown curls. “I thought about all the different ways I could make this pretty pussy cum all over me.” With that, he ran his tongue up my slit before flicking it over my clit.
Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so of course, he was good at this too. His mouth moved over me, watching my reaction to see what I liked best. His tongue moved in circles around my clit before slipping down to my opening. His tongue plunged inside me, fucking me, while his thumb came over to rub my clit.
“Spence- fuck- Spencer, please.” My hips tried to shift restlessly, but his arms were iron bars holding me still. He slowly moved his left forearm to rest across my hips, bringing his right hand down to my throbbing pussy. He pulled his mouth away from me, much to my dismay. He pushed one finger, then another into me. My head thrashed wildly, and my thighs started to shake. “Spencer!”
He just smirked and curled his fingers, hitting the spot inside me that made everything in my body pulse. “What, baby?”
My breaths were coming in gasps, my voice was a needy whimper. “Make me cum, Spencer. Please, please make me cum.”
He needed no other encouragement. His fingers continued their steady thrust in and out of me while his mouth covered my clit again. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue, then circling it before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly.
“Spencer.” I felt my orgasm rising. “Spencer don’t- don’t stop. I’m gonna cum, please make me cum.”
He kept his pace steady, sucking on my clit, moaning at my words. His eyes had been closed, but at that moment they opened and met mine. Then I felt his teeth ghost over my clit, I saw the want in his eyes. That was my undoing. My back arched, my mouth hung open in a silent scream. I heard myself say his name over and over again. Spencer pushed his fingers inside me, massaging me through the most powerful orgasm I had ever had. With one final kiss on my oversensitive clit, he withdrew his fingers, putting them into his mouth to suck my orgasm off of them.
He kissed back up my body, and I tried to respond, but I was still so shattered. I had never felt anything so powerful before. He cupped my face in one hand and kissed me slowly. I returned the kiss, moving my hands to the buttons of his shirt.
Spencer broke the kiss, pulling back to look at me again. “Hang on, baby.” His hand came up to still my own. “We can take a second. It’s okay. Just breathe.”
This beautiful man smiled at me then. I felt my heart flutter when he leaned down to pepper soft kisses along my jaw, his thumb coming up to wipe a tear that fell from the corner of my eye that I hadn’t even noticed.
I don’t know how long we stayed like that. He shifted to lay beside me, whispering reassurances to me while I came back down. This was just one of the ways that Spencer was so different from every other man. I didn't feel rushed, or pressured. I could feel how hard he still was, I could feel the tension in his body, but he simply kissed me while he cupped my jaw.
He made me feel…cherished.
I moved my hands to tangle in his hair again, deepening our kiss. He didn’t move my hands away when I started to work on the buttons of his shirt. The fire that I thought had been calmed by my orgasm had come roaring back. Spencer moved his hands to his belt while I finished with his shirt. His shirt came off, tossed in the same direction as my clothes. I pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, watching his cock spring free.
Everything about him was painfully beautiful. His angular cheekbones, the jaw that looked like it was carved from granite, even the toned muscles of his body. He had a small trail of hair that went down from his belly button to his groin. His cock laid against his stomach, the head glistening with precum.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, kneeling beside him, running my eyes over his body.
His soft hand came to grab mine, pulling it to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand, smiling softly at me.
I moved to straddle him, lower on his thighs. I took him in my hand, moving up and down, twisting my wrist as I neared the tip, swiping my thumb over his head.
“Baby,” he groaned. “Y/n, as much as I want you to do…whatever the fuck you want with me, I’m so close. I feel like I’m going to explode.” I bit into my bottom lip, unable to totally stop the smile spreading over my face. “Please, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He moved his hands to my hips, urging my body forward.
I raised up on my knees, taking him in my hand again, lining him up with my entrance. The tendons in his neck were strained, his fingers gripped my hips so hard I knew I was going to have bruises tomorrow. As I slowly started to sink down on his cock, Spencer let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard. His eyes were fixed where our bodies were joined, watching his dick slid deeper inside of me.
“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “You’re doing so good. Just a little bit more.”
He was so long, he wasn't overly thick, but just thick enough to cause a pleasurable stretching when he breached me that was almost painful. I gasped out a sound that might have been his name when he bottomed out inside me. I slowly circled my hips, adjusting to him. Spencer’s nails dug into my hips as he forced himself to stay still.
“Please move, y/n. Please. You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as my walls fluttered around him. “Do you like it when I talk to you? Does that make your pretty pussy wetter?” He smirked at my whimper as I tightened around him.
I began at a slower pace, trying to tease him. Spencer quickly lost patience with that; he thrust his hips upwards, meeting my movements, his hands pushing me down onto him. I leaned forward, bracing on hand on his shoulder, the other on the bed. He pounded into me while I tried to match his pace. Spencer’s hand moved from my hip up to wrap around my throat. I nodded, forcing my eyes to stay open as he moved inside me.
His fingers squeezed slightly, pulling my face closer to his. Our lips met in a sloppy kiss. My thighs burned from matching his movements. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” His grip on my neck tightened ever so slightly, which only heightened my arousal. “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”
He flipped us over quickly, never pulling completely out of me. Spencer moved to push my legs further apart, the change in angle allowing him to fill me deeper than I thought possible. His hair was sticking to his brow, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing erratic. He was the most fucking beautiful thing I had ever seen.
One hand held my leg, the other went down to my pussy, his thumb moving over my clit at a rapid pace. “Tell me what you need, Pretty Girl. Tell me how to make this pretty pussy cum all over me.”
I whined at his words. “Spencer, I-“ my voice broke off. I was so fucking close. "I need you." He seemed to understand my broken plea. He brought his body down, his chest flush against mine. He rocked into me at such a fast and hard pace. His hand still in between us rubbing circles around my clit.  
I felt his lips ghost over my ear. “I want to fucking hear you, y/n.” His speed increased, his thrust getting choppier. He was close. “I want this whole fucking town to hear what you sound like when I make you cum. When you cream all over my dick, I want you to scream my name.” With that, he moved his mouth down my neck. He bit the same tender area he had kissed in the club, where my neck met my shoulder.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, Spencer!" I felt myself begin to splinter apart. “Please make me cum, fuck please.” My babbling finally broke as my orgasm tore through me. I couldn’t hear his deep groan when I came, my scream was too loud. I felt the vibration against my neck. It was only as I started to float down that I realized my nails were dug into his back. With a few last thrust and my name on his lips, I felt Spencer pulse, cumming inside me.
We lay there for a few minutes, just breathing before he rolled off of me. I felt overwhelmed, so I was relieved when he tugged me over to him. He wrapped his arm around me when I laid my head on his chest. I felt his lips on my forehead. “It’s very important for women to urinate after sexual intercourse to avoid UTIs, but you have another minute or so before that becomes more urgent.”
I couldn’t control my laugh at his comment. "Thanks, Doc." I kissed his chest. "Only you could make me cum so hard I almost blackout, then go back to being…you." I slowly untangled myself from him, going to the bathroom to handle business. When I returned, I found Spencer where I left him, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, one hand resting behind his head, the other over his heart. He looked so lost in that moment.
“Spencer?” I asked, crawling on to the bed. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t pretend that something wasn’t bothering him. “When you said that I just go back to being me…Do you not like that?”
My heart broke a tiny bit at the question. “Spencer, no! I love that! I love your little facts and statistics!” How did he not know that? “The best part of my day is listening to you talk. Just being with you is wonderful.” I cupped his face, bringing his gaze to mine. “Sure, I like what we just did; but I liked you before that. I want both.” Fuck. “Assuming you want me,” I rambled quickly. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, I know that it doesn’t always-“
He cut me off by pressing his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss I had ever felt. It was filled with hope and promise and…Spencer.
“It means everything to me, Y/n.”
-
I didn’t see the rest of the team until the next morning when we all boarded the jet; I was so ready to go home. I personally didn’t think anything appeared that different. Spencer sat beside me on the couch, but that wasn’t weird…right? We were just co-workers, sitting beside each other super casually. Had we spent most of last night and a little bit of this morning screwing each other’s brains out? Certainly. But you couldn’t see that…right?
Morgan’s chuckle is what confirmed I was so wrong. “Hey, y/l/n,” he called, smiling so hard it looked like his face would split from his amusement. “You missed a spot.” He pointed towards his own neck.
There was a beat of silence before Hotch snorted. SSA Aaron Hotchner, the man who never found anything funny was laughing at me.
I felt myself turn tomato red, angling my body towards Spencer’s, burying my head against his shoulder, away from the rest of the team.
“I bet you’re glad pretty boy was your partner now, huh?”
I may have wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment, but it was sort of worth it to see the blush on Spencer’s cheeks.
--
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