#changing for the better even though you thought you'd never get the chance to....

[sortarapunzel]

clawing at the walls every time i come across a new sansûkh song. this time maybe by half alive

[suiana]

(yandere! infected harem x gn! reader) (HEAVILY inspired by LT may's book 'infected' on wattpad, go read it!!!)

This was exactly like a zombie infection. No, it was worse.

You couldn't even remember how it all started. You were just sitting in class one day, listening to your tutor yap about something boring when all of a sudden you heard people screaming.

The once peaceful world you knew was suddenly turned upside down. Everyone had changed for the worse, or better, if you see it from their perspective.

The infected, that's what people are calling them.

They're insane, crazy, obsessive. The epitome of what people once called toxic. But now, it's becoming the norm. And it's all because of that crazy scientist who developed this infection and made it an airborne virus.

You see this as something like a zombie infection. The people who're infected... they're practically... dead. Well, not really. They turn alive once they see their darlings. Right, darlings. That's what the infected are calling the uninfected.

But anyway, these infected people are practically zombies now. Like, enhanced zombies? Maybe? Their physical abilities are no joke, not to mention how much smarter they've all become. And their emotions... God, they're like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

The worst part is, the love emotion has spiralled out of control. All their passion, love, intrusive thoughts... They've lost all sense of rationality when it comes to their beloved darlings. They've become crazy in love for anyone they've had their eyes on prior to the infection. That's why the infected turn alive when they see their darlings. That's why so many people are going missing. That's why you call this a zombie infection.

Because somehow, someway, if you're uninfected and you get caught by an infected... Chances are, you're likely to turn infected as well. Apparently everyone breathed in the infection virus, some just react to it faster than others, hence the huge outbreak of infecteds. Those who didn't turn yet are apparently stronger in health or simply can't react to the infection.

And that's what brings you to your current situation. As an uninfected with their morality and common sense still in-tact.

It's crazy how the people you once called your friends are acting like monsters for their lovers now. You still can't wrap your head around that fact. But to everyone else who got infected it's nothing but a small step to get their darlings.

You can't stand it.

Why is everyone acting like this is something normal? Just a few weeks ago they'd all call this act immoral and simply insane! And now they're doing the same exact thing they vowed to never do? God you absolutely despise that scientist who created this infection.

The same can't be said for the people who are infected though, especially... your admirers.

Look! There's one right now.

"Darling! Has your infection kicked in yet?"

A cheery voice hums, a cute boy coming into view as he stares at you with the most lovesick eyes you've ever seen. Oh, right, forgot to mention but the infection takes place differently in everyone. Apparently it takes form based on your true personality, or whatever the fuck that means.

Meaning that if you were shy prior to the infection, you'd be more shy with your love. Your true personality would either turn you into a clingy wet kitten desperate for your darling's love or to a crazy homicidal maniac that goes insane if their love is not reciprocated. The infected would still be obsessive and possessive to a certain extent. But the rest of the traits are completely dependent on how you really were before getting infected.

And this guy was your friend who was super fucking clingy before the infection. Turns out he was in love with you and the infection just made things a hundred times worse.

"Um, no-"

"Why not? I can't wait for your affection!"

"Uh-"

"Pipe down shorty. You're making them uncomfortable."

Ah, how could you have forgotten that you not only had one admirer, but another one? Actually, scratch that. You had more than 2. Everyday there would be more and more people confessing their love to you, so much that you began to lose count of how many people held you in their hearts.

But there were 4 prominent people who stood out with their affections. And these 2 were it. Unfortunately.

Because even though one was more clingy and the other was more aloof, they had murdered the other admirers ruthlessly in cold blood. At least the aloof one had the decency to wash off the blood before coming to you. This clingy one came to you, all wide eyed and smiley, thinking you'd hug him when he was drenched in blood.

The fact that laws had been changed too didn't help either. People could now openly commit crimes that were once deemed illegal as long as they were proven to be done in the name of love. How cruel.

"Can you both just leave me alone?"

You grumble, glaring at your two admirers as you hide your face in your hands. You were so fucking tired of it all. Not only were you constantly on edge because you were uninfected and could be killed because you looked at someone a little too long, but you also had to deal with the weight of being so many people's obsessions.

This cursed dystopian world that changed in the blink of an eye... Ah, you had only wished you treasured the sweet days of the old world a little more.

[notanactressyayy]

—𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞—

pairing. ex! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary. in a day you simply wanted peace, two unexpected visitors showed up. for one of them, you were glad.

warnings. smut! I am NOT responsible for your content consumption! — making out, thigh riding, strap on usage, cursing, angst (w happy ending), soft dom Nat.

notes. my first language is portuguese, so I apologize for any grammar errors. feel free to give me advice, though!

divider credits: @cafekitsune ★

Natasha Romanoff was known as a cold, ruthless woman, who never cared for anyone besides herself. Most of the people didn't know this was due her past — the Red Room was always in complete secrecy, so they feared her. She was already used to it. Whenever she started something with someone, in the next day, she had an empty bed as a gift. To be completely honest, she always felt used. Men and women touched her, to leave her in the morning.

That changed when she met you.

You could say you'd changed her completely, for the best, of course. She became more open with you, learned to express herself better and was not known as the most selfish Avenger in the team anymore.

But just like people say, not everything is a bed of roses.

Instead of using that achievement to improve your relationship, she began to care a little too much about her team of superheroes. At some point, she was no longer paying attention to you.

Reports this, reports that. Missions and more missions. "I have to go somewhere with Cap." "I have to train with Tony to a mission." "I can't, I'll have to go with Clint."

When you confronted her about this, begging for her to understand and willing to help her change, she decided that it was a better option to part ways. You were devasted, and she saw it. That made her heart ache — someone actually lov— liked her enough to want to stay.

This was the one and only reason Natasha didn't forget about you. The only reason she thought about you everyday. The only reason she teared up whenever entering her car and seeing the polaroid with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on her rearview mirror, that she didn't dare to take down.

Today, you were leaving work, heavy tired steps echoing on the pavement's wooden floor as the moonlight illuminated the room. The building was already empty, the streets, darker than your thoughts.

As you started walking to the nearest bus stop, you heard quick footsteps behind you — it was already late and usually there was no people on the streets like this. You turned your head, "you gotta be kidding me".

"Hey, Y/n!" Peter exclaimed, running to catch up with you. "I didn't know you were going to be here at 11:30pm."

You rolled your eyes and took a sharp inhale, but like always, tried to be polite. This so called coworker of yours was always looking at you, following you everywhere, and asking you things, not always work-related. You always made it clear that you weren't interested in men, and he insisted on saying he could 'change your mind'.

"Hey, Peter." you replied, faking a smile and nodding. "You need me to review your documents again?"

"Oh, no. I was just wondering if you wanna go on a date with me. Did you see the restaurant that just opened over there? I could treat you to—"

"No, I don't." you cut him off, more harshly than you intended to. "Look, Peter, I'm sorry. But I don't want anything to do with you, alright? So if you want, go ahead and find somebody else."

You shook your head, not even waiting for his reply and picking up the pace again, quickly rushing to the bus stop. That's when the guy showed you a side that you just suspected, but preferred to believe he didn't have

"C'mon, Y/n." he grabbed your arm, nails digging into your skin. "You won't broke my heart, will you? You're such a gentle, beautiful, kind woman. You will give me a chance."

You cleared your throat, feeling him get closer, and thinking about a certain Red Head — how she would gently, delicately graze your skin with her fingers, so softly whispering into your ear and bringing you to her embrace—

"Back off."

"Oh, no." he laughed. Such a creep. "I won't back off. And if you don't cooperate, I'll make you give me a chance."

Your hands trembled now, silently praying to whoever was seeing this just call the cops or do something. You didn't know the guy anyway. He didn't talk to anyone at work beside you, and you never got to know him, you would never. That's when it would be a good use to have a spy girlfriend. Just the last thing you expected to happen was to hear the sound of a gun cocking behind you, and a very familiar female voice.

"She said back off."

Relief unconsciously washed upon you as your arm was released, only because of the gun, though. You knew that if if wasn't for her, who knows what could've happened there. Peter left, annoyed, but the Russian swore to herself that she'd make his life a living hell.

"... Natasha?" you whisper, turning around with a confused and even scared frown.

"Yes," she worriedly rubbed your arm, shooting you, slowly making the feeling of the disgusting hand fade away. "Are you okay?"

"I am..." you nodded subtly, leaning into her touch. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I saw a woman being harassed. What was I supposed to do? Mind my business?" she said, obviously avoiding your question.

"You know this is not what I mean." you frowned, carefully letting go of her caress and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Natasha sighed, trying to think of a way to explain herself. 'Oh, I'm here because I miss you so much I can't even sleep anymore.'? No, it wouldn't do.

"I... followed you."

"Oh, great, so I'm being stalked twice today." you hissed, making Natasha look down with your harshness.

"No, Y/n.. I'm here for.. personal reasons. I saw you leaving work, and I noticed that guy following you. I decided to follow too, until he grabbed you and I knew I had to intervine." she explained quietly.

The fact she had said 'personal reasons' deeply hurt you, but you couldn't do anything, you had broken up after all. You nodded, and prepared yourself to walk tp the bus stop again.

"Wait," Natasha quickly stopped you, her eyebrows furrowed. "I won't let you go home like this."

This was something about the old Natasha you knew, the protective one. It was okay, you were tired, and a ride would be no harm. "Where's your getaway car?"

She smiled softly at your joke, and tilted her head. "Around the corner."

You two walked silently towards the vehicle, as she unlocked the doors with the keys and you entered the passenger seat. You threw your bag on the backseat before you could focus on the environment around you, and see the polaroid of you and Nat with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on the rearview mirror.

Natasha noticed your gaze as soon as she entered the driver seat, clearing her throat and starting the car's engine. "Couldn't bring myself to take those down."

You stayed silent, but your eyes could tell everything. I'm glad. Oh, I'm so glad.

Natasha remembered your address as if you hadn't broken up nine months ago, and when you reached your place, you too much disappointed for your own good.

"Thank you for the lift," you whispered, turning your body to be able to grab your bag from the backseat — in the exact same moment Natasha turned to unbuckle her seatbelt — your fronts touching, which made you two a little startled.

The problem was that you didn't pull away, neither of you. You slowly turned your head to meet Natasha's gaze, your face so close to hers you could feel her breath. Familiar. It was pure instinct, almost muscle memory, of the times she always kissed you goodbye when dropping you somewhere.

You didn't even notice your hand going up to hold the back of her neck, much less when she placed her hand on your thigh, and leaned in so your noses brushed. Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment, almost savouring your closeness, your aura enveloping her once more. Then your lips barely, barely grazed, breath hitching, as she couldn't take it anymore.

The redhead pressed her lips against yours, giving them a long peck. It was surprising how much time you lasted without air. You didn't break the kiss, just darted the tip of your tongue out to lick her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She gave in, trying to pull you closer but being stopped by the goddamn control panel. As soon as you felt her tongue touching yours you realized that this was going too far. You pulled back harshly, leaving you two panting for air and a disappointed Nat.

"Do you..." you shakily breathed. "... wanna come in?"

"Mhm." Natasha hummed, turning off the engine. "Can I?"

You didn't answer, just opened the door and slipped out the car. As you entered, you could practically feel Natasha's eyes burning the place. How you didn't take down any picture of yours. How her stuff was spreading across the pavement. It gave her a sense of... hope? Of course, since she was in the same situation.

"So.. are you seeing anyone?" you asked her while kicking off your heels and leaving them by the door.

"I think you know the answer for that." the redhead practically hissed, making your head snap towards her.

"But I want you to say it." you retreated. "I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me you didn't forget me. I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me the reason of why you came to my town again and followed me when I left work. I want you to tell me the reason of why you kissed me just like we always did before."

"I didn't! I didn't forget you, Y/n!" Natasha snapped, looking away and tucking the loosen strands of hair of her braids behind her ears. "I didn't forget you and I never did. Alright? Happy now?"

"Is that so?" you laughed humorlessly, crossing your arms. "I thought you cared more about your superheroes buddies. Where are they now!?"

"I left them." Natasha replied, looking at you again with a mixture of anger and pain. "I left them and came back, to you, Y/n."

You froze at her words, swallowing your saliva. "... okay?"

"I came back here, because I wanted to at least a chance to explain myself. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I hurt you, and that you think that I did it on purpose. So please, just give me a chance."

"...go on."

Natasha sighed in relief, exhaling the air she was holding. "I'm sure you know my story. You were the first one to know everything about it, about me. And I'm also sure you know you're the first one to ever love me. No one else ever loved me like you did."

You leaned against the kitchen counter, listening carefully to her words, ready to give her time and patience, like you usually did.

"... I didn't know what I was doing, Y/n. Every other relationship I had, ended in less than a week. Love is a weapon and it's letal for me, for people like me. I was, I am startled by all of this, by this fuzzy warm feeling that you always gave me, that you still do, in my thoughts.. the Avengers were my first family, and when I panicked, I tried to hang on to them. In order not to hurt you, and myself." she didn't even realize the tear rolling down her cheek, and shook her head. "That's it. I'm sorry for everything, but Y/n, you will always have a piece— you'll always have my whole heart in your hands. I'll get off your hair n—"

You couldn't. Not anymore. You rushed towards her and grabbed her face, cutting her off with a deep kiss. She was taking aback, but her hands traveled to your waist, pulling you flush against her, your fronts pressing. Nothing changed. Natasha pushed you backwards against your room's door, her tongue entering your mouth and dancing with yours. You could feel yourself getting lost in her, damn it, once more. It was like she had this spell on you — you were trapped, and didn't complain.

"Y/n," the russian uttered, hands slipping inside your shirt and giving your waist a squeeze. "I've got to have you again, at least for one last time. Please, just this once—"

Tired of her rambling, you smirked and grabbed her by the jacket, pulling her into a kiss again and dragging her into the room, slamming the door shut. Natasha took this as a 'yes', and her hands, under you shirt, went to unclasp your bra, making it fall to the ground and a groan of relief escape your throat. Before she could remove the rest of the fabric of your body, you stopped her, pushing her down to the bed.

"I always wanted to do that," you started to slowly, so slow that it almost tortured her take off your clothes, stripteasing for her.

"Shit, Y/n." she quickly started to get rid off her jacket, snd everything else she was wearing. You were careful not to trip on the pile of clothes on the floor, and walked over to her again, straddling her leg on the edge of the bed.

Natasha's hand grabbed your hips roughly, keeping you in place and it didn't take two seconds before you started to grind on her. "Nat," you breathed, arms going to circle her neck.

"Who else touched you like this while I was away?" she growled in your ear, pressing your body against hers. "Answer me,"

"No one," you whined, giving her a subtle shake of your head. "No one, Natty. J-just myself,"

"My poor girl," Nat began to roam her hands up your sides, her lips pressing kisses on your jawline, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help,"

"You're here now..!" you gasped, your movements faster, as she began to move her thigh to stimulate you more.

"And I don't plan on going away," Natasha murmured, tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. Even in your high, you could make sense of her words, and the weight they beared.

"Nat!" you moaned, closing your eyes shut. "I need... please.. I—I need you, inside me."

Natasha almost lost her mind with that, grabbing your hips and pinning you down to the bed. She reached her arm out for the drawer that she hoped your strap still was, and luckily, she was right. "I'm gonna fuck you like never before, Y/n." she attached the silicone cock to her hips with urgency, holding your hips in place as she ran the tip of it across your folds, making you whine in need.

"Don't tease me," you gently gripped her arms on your hips and looked at her with dreamy eyes. She couldn't resist — but your walls were so tight she had to put a little effort to enter you.

"Holy fuck, baby." she moved her hand to brush your hair behind your ear, giving you a little time to get used to the length. "So fucking tight for me,"

"I—" you breathed, interrupted when Nat started to slowly move in and out you, her red hair falling into your face. You moaned, putting her hair up in a makeshift ponytail and with your free hand, holding her neck. "God, I missed you,"

Natasha pounded faster in you with those words, your moans only getting louder by the second. She grabbed one of your legs and placed it over her shoulder, allowing her to hit your g-spot repeatedly. You thumb went to your mouth, wetting it and starting to rub her clit — she couldn't say she expected that, her soft moans saying everything.

"Cum with me," you breathlessly requested, eyes fluttering close. Natasha didn't have to be asked twice. Her hips slammed into yours, the wet sounds of her thrusting echoing the room. "Natty!"

You back arched, head thrown backwards as your orgasm hit you. Natasha's legs shook, her weight falling onto you and your arms immediately wrapping around her, keeping her close.

"Don't make me go away,"

"I could never."

[constantmourning]

Stress Relief

[Price/Reader/Soap/Simon]

Summary: Headcanons (almost an imagine) on sleeping with the three and how it turns out for you!

Warnings: Minors DNI! NS/FW, 18+!, M/M/M/F, Foursome, not too descriptive but still nasty, let me know if I forgot something! (haven't done this in a while)

A/N: This is my first time writing for these guys! I hope you enjoy! I'm still getting a hang of these characters but I had this idea so I went with it. I kinda fucking ran with it actually... Hope you all enjoy. Kinda wanna make it a full blown fic.

It started with Soap. Really, you didn't think it'd go much further.

You were sleeping together most every chance you got. To the point where Soap started to brag about his nights he'd spend with you to TF141.

Price began probing about who, genuinely curious. Soap would never say your name. However, you gave yourself away after a briefing and heard Price being curious about who had Soap acting that way.

"It's me." You walked up and smiled at Price. Soap was slightly shocked you had given yourself away. And was even more shocked with the next thing you said. "If you ever wanna feel just as great, give me a call." You winked at him.

Soap wasn't jealous by any means, in fact sharing you with Price was something he really didn't mind. He had not expected you to be okay with it though.

So, you started sleeping with Price.

Soap and Price were much different lovers in the best way possible. You would spend the night with Soap, him going absolutely feral over you. Then you'd spend the next night with Price. Who was not as ravenous, but just as passionate.

This went on for a couple weeks. Just you, Price, and Soap. Never had the three of you fucked at the same time. But Price had plans to change that. And Soap had something up his sleeve as well.

"Soap." Price had approached him a questioning look. "I have a question."

"Good, just who I was looking for," Soap smirked, "'cause I do too."

You were in your room when a knock came from the door. It was a free night, neither Soap nor Price were supposed to come over, so you weren't sure who the knocking could be.

When price and soap entered your room as soon as you opened your door you grew hot. "you're both here?"

"We have a proposition." Price seemed serious but Soap seemed too excited to be serious.

They both stood in front of you, so you could assume what it was. "threesome?"

Soap shook his head, and held up four fingers. Your brows knitted together and you cocked your head. Before you could say a word your door pushed open further and you turned around. Your heart jumped into your throat.

The man you had found the mysterious since coming onto base was standing there. Simon 'Ghost' Riley. You swallowed hard turning towards Price and Soap.

"Is this a joke?" No way was Simon joining in...

"No, love," Simon grunted, "it isn't. Soap 'ere won't shut up about you, so I thought I'd see what the raving was about."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. Had Soap been seeing how you were staring longingly at Simon? Yes, yes he had.

"Is this okay?" Price asked. Soap and Simon waited on your answer. When you nodded, things were most definitely getting loud.

You thought Soap and Price were great? It is Simon's mission to show you how much better he is at everything.

Soap amazing at eating you out? Simon is going to one up him. Price really good at taking his time fucking you? Simon is going to show you just how much time he can to take care of you.

They let Simon do whatever he wants, Price and Soap just watching (and jerking it). But after Simon experiences you for himself, they decide to all have a go at it.

They take turns teasing you and eating you out. Seeing just how far you could go before they get down to business.

You're sandwiched between three very strong men and its very hot.

Soap is a freak (enduring) and loooooves watching Simon's large form pressing against yours while Price takes you from behind.

The guys don't leave without their dick getting sucked.

You are almost crying (positive) after they're done with you.

Super duper big on aftercare. Simon carries you to the bathroom. Soap would literally give you a bath if you wanted/needed. Price is telling you how good you were. All of them are the best...

At the end Price is ready to ask for this more often. It's a nice stress reliever for everyone. He may even ask if the others could join, for team bonding. Only if you're comfortable of course.

[aethercores]

✮ GREEN TINTED ;

alternatively, what are you, jealous? ft. rafayel, xavier, zayne + gn!reader/mc [non-established relationships] 1.2k+

can you really blame him? sure, rafayel’s had all the chances in the world to come to terms with your oft-busy life, but he’d brushed those away with the practiced swipe of an easy hand. you'd promised him your attention, after all, and the sea had bore witness to your vow. he finds the finer details don't really matter, even if all his whining after you've missed a few calls might lead you to think otherwise.

it's your new profile picture, though.

rafayel's usually the first to notice any changes to your icon or any new moments, and just as quick to take on your thoughts for any changes to his own. he'd never given any thought to reciprocation, to you asking him for his opinion on which picture of yours might be cutest to post but— there's some... some guy there. and you've got your hands cupped around his face while he stares at the camera like a fish out of water.

with the light press of his teeth to the insides of his cheek, rafayel tries to brush this off. whatever 'this' is. his fingers swipe over to your chat log of their own accord. he'd been meaning to message you anyway, maybe he can just remind you there's way better pictures in that photo album that he knows you keep?

keen eyes swipe over your last exchange. 'read'. like sand grains on an oil palette, he only barely feels the grit before impulse rushes over like a tidal wave—

playing kitty cards at home isn't quite the same as at meow's café, but xavier's found that there's a different feeling that comes from having you in his home like this. the cozy arrangement of blankets and little cushions across the living room floor. the warm tea on the table between you. the shared space. it's not quite the same, but he prefers it.

it's with a loss at the end of a few rounds that you smile, thoughts drifting from your defeat, stretching your arms above you before slumping back a little. "i might have to get going," you say lightly, checking the time. late afternoon. "i'm meeting up with zayne later."

his brows furrow, a delicate gesture as his eyes stray from your own across the low table, searching for recognition in memory. that you've named anyone clues him into the fact that this is not a new introduction, that you've mentioned them before. it is familiar but, among the friends and family he's heard of in passing or between exchanges, this one's a little different—

"your physician?" he asks, face tilting upwards as you rise to a stand, the blanket drapping softly back onto the floor. "dr. zayne?"

the smile on your face grows a little then, amusement playing in your eyes for reasons unknown, but xavier's always felt warmest with it in sight. even if he is a little confused.

"well. yes," you laugh a little, "but we've known each other since we were kids, so the 'dr. zayne' part is still taking some getting used to."

there's a lot of context missing here, that much he can tell. it seems you become aware of that gap too, your intentions divided between the hunter watch you check once more and the cooling tea in your cup. you smile at xavier once more, a little apologetic, and he wonders if your attentions are similarly divided.

there's not really any time for that, though, but he's left with the thought a little longer after you're gone. brushes his thumb over the lip of your cup. leaves it undisturbed.

the look zayne fixes you with is placid. that is, to the untrained eye. cool eyes draw calmly from your hunter watch, propped face down upon the table, back to your own. it's subtle, but meaningful, and he knows that you know him well enough by now to know better.

"just ignore it," you say, hand waving through the air in easy dismissal, and he pretends not to see the way your grin widens as you peer up from your card hand to the complex array of kitty cups before you both, currently at an impasse.

it'd been an odd choice, he'd noted as you both sat down in the café, to separate the device from your person. after all, zayne had seldom seen you without it ever since you'd become a hunter, an essential piece in both the professional and personal capacity. he'd know.

irony answers the call to action as the watch flashes once again — the fifth occurrence in a three minute interval — and a small vibration lightly rattles one of the closest cups. a double-pointer blue proudly boosting your score by +10.

it startles you, and you send a minutely too-prolonged glare to the offending piece as though it had purposely made to sabotage your entire game.

he smiles, lightly. "would you like to swap cards?"

you're not a good bluff. though you shake your head, another flash rattles the cup before you've had the chance to verbalise your thoughts. zayne takes the cue, and considers his own hand — catalogues his assists and future turn order — before speaking, "someone's trying hard to reach you. are you certain it's not an emergency?"

you laugh a little. "no, i'd know." the bare hint of a scoff follows, and he can tell it isn't aimed at him, but it seems mostly good-natured, a little teasing. "bad timing, but i did say i had plans today."

someone vying for your time.

it's not something he's given much consideration to before, as someone with such a stringent schedule of his own. zayne decidedly ignores the light flare in his chest at the choice you'd made and doesn't linger on a hypothetical cause. pride has an interesting way of unfurling set shoulders with just the lightest of touches.

you do end up winning the game, though he doesn't entirely feel as though he's lost. you both settle outside the café as you readjust your scarf, the breeze picking up a chill.

zayne waits, patient, turned towards you. "i still have the rest of the day off," he says. it must not say much to you, this half-sentence of his, as you blink up at him. his eyes drift upwards.

a precise, but gentle hand, carefully brushes the top of your head, cool fingers lightly touching your temple before coming away with a stray leaf. he smiles, lightly, and his gaze returns to you once more, elucidating, "is there anywhere you'd like to go?"

he feels a different sort of flare in his chest as he watches as your eyes light up, your excitement suffusing through even the layers keeping you warm.

"yeah, there's—" a subtle, but sudden, flash emits. below, from where your watch has been reunited with your wrist once more. you deflate a little, then perk up a little, made indecisive and a little troubled by some sort of unforeseen circumstance. "there's this food market, but i already promised xavier we'd go later tonight... rain check?"

zayne's eyes glance between your own for a moment before he nods, calmly assenting to the offer, and bypasses the unfamiliarity of the name and the implied familiarity of those plans. there's a light press, a pull just on the edge of taut, between his shoulder blades. he lightly shifts them, a little heavier. doesn't verbalise questions that even he leaves unacknowledged.

"of course."

[batsycline69]

A Cure for What Ails You

Summary: You heal Link's wounds after a battle with a lynel

Pairing: botw!Link x healer!reader (gn)

Words: 1,127

Warnings: brief mentions of injuries, barely edited (I'm just vibing and waiting for midnight)

A/N: This is just a fun little oneshot I wrote up tonight because man oh man am I jazzed for TOK.

“You really didn’t have to do that, you know.”

Your voice cuts the silence between the two of you as you mend the deep scratches across his forearm. The bleeding has slowed, but you still wear the concern on your face.

Link watches you, unblinking. When you first met, you would have said his expression never changes. Now you know better. His bright eyes have a little flicker of indignation. You quirk an eyebrow up at him, a small smirk flashing across your face.

"I appreciate it, though," you continue, turning your eyes to the wound on his arm. If he's in pain, he'd never tell, but his back is stiffer than it's been around you as of late, and his silence feels more pressing.

Today hadn't marked your first life threatening experience since you began your journeys with the Princess and her knight, but you believed it to be your closest to grave harm. Link had stepped in just as you were about to be a lynel's prize.

You'd stumbled into the beast's territory foraging ingredients for tonight's dinner. Luckily, you'd found enough ingredients to whip up some healing potions and a salve as well. Your thankful that Zelda had stayed at the stable, unaware of the whole ordeal.

Link's guarded gaze is still fixed on you, like he's trying to tell you something that you can't quite make out. Though you've learned his little tells, there's still so much of himself he hides when he chooses to. You wonder what he's hiding around you.

"It would have killed you," Link says finally. His voice doesn't convey the seriousness of the sentiment.

You laugh quietly though that's not quite appropriate for the situation either. "It could have killed you, too."

"Probably not."

His bluntness catches you off guard, and you can't help but laugh. Link's expression softens just a smidge, like your laughter is the medicine he's needed for his wounds all along.

"I guess you're right," you say, a hint of startled laughter still in your voice.

Once your pleased with how clean his scrapes are, you wrap them up as you begin to get to work on the salve. He sits still, and though your back is to him, you can feel him observing, always so alert to everything going on around him.

"How did you know to come?" you ask after a moment of quiet. The question weighed on your mind. You'd gone off all on your own. When the lynel made its first yell, you were certain that you'd seen him and the Princess for the last time. And suddenly, out of nowhere, Link was there, just before you, fighting off the lynel before it even had the chance to touch you.

You hesitate before turning to face him, a sudden creeping awareness of him. Your duties were elsewhere on your travels, but within your company, you couldn't help but have...noticed Link was handsome.

It started out innocently enough, admiring the way his light caught his hair, the way their nightly campfires lit his face, how extraordinarily kind he was to his horse. Your not sure when the change happened, but the casual admiration morphed into something less easy to shake off.

You and Link spent very little time alone because he was often fulfilling his duties of protecting Zelda. It'd been easier to keep the feelings at bay then. But Zelda's absence was incredibly noted. Now it was just the two of you, his eyes following you as you prepared a salve for him.

When you finally find the courage, you turn to face him, your hands over a small slimy mixture in a small glass. He sat on a stump, one leg straight out, the elbow of his injured arm resting upon the knee of his bent leg.

Sure enough, he's watching you.

"Thought there might be monsters," he replies.

You breathe a laugh, though the breath is hard to find quite suddenly. You bend down and remove the cloth wrapped around his forearm, your fingers barely grazing his skin as you apply the salve. You tell yourself its so you won't hurt him, but you know perfectly well that as soon as the salve is on, the pain will disappear entirely.

You fall back into silence as you make quick work of healing him. One hand lightly grips his forearm to keep him steady, the other coating his wounds. His skin is warm underneath your fingertips. You try to push the thought back with all your might, though you find it hard to resist.

Link ever so softly sighs in relief. You feel the tension in his muscles ease as the pain fades away and smile gently.

"Is that better?" you ask. Your grip on his arm lingers.

He nods. For a moment, you think he'll pull his arm away, but he doesn't. His bright eyes are on you, and you can't look away. You're caught in his gaze, stuck on the spot.

"We..." Your voice is thin. You clear your throat and finally tear your eyes from his. "We should get back. We don't want the Princess to worry."

You rise to your feet, beginning to walk away, but something holds you back. A glance down shows Link's hand wrapped gently around your wrist.

"Wait," he says. And for the first time, you can so clearly read everything he's trying to tell you without saying more than a single word. His eyes are so open, as if he's giving you permission to understand him, know what goes on in his mind.

Your breath catches in your throat. There's longing, fear, concern all swimming in his eyes. He's letting you see it.

Link rises to his feet, only a few inches from where you stand. He smells like leather and warm days, fresh breeze and soil.

"It could have killed you," Link says again. This time, his voice is heavy, thick with everything he's feeling. Everything he's showing to you openly, or at least as openly as he can.

You nod, temporarily at a loss for words until you're able to choke out, "Yes."

"I did have to do that," he says firmly. For a moment, it takes a moment for you to understand what he's trying to say. When you do, your lips part to speak, but he frees your wrist and pulls his sleeve down over his healed wound. "We should get back."

The sky has turned vibrant orange. Night soon follows, and you know just as well as Link what you could meet in the night.

"Right," you say softly, and note that for once, he's the one with much more to say. If you weren't still so stunned, you'd think it was funny.

As you walk back to the stable, Link walks behind you, just like he does with Zelda.

[wileys-russo]

under the mistletoe II s.blackstenius x reader

merry christmas eve besties under the mistletoe II s.blackstenius x reader

"oh they decorated!" you noticed right away as you wandered into colney for training, amanda by your side having driven you as the two of you often took turns since you lived in the same complex.

"ha! that is going to be fun." amanda nudged you and pointed to the random tufts of fake mistletoe hung up around as you both made your way to the changing rooms, music already pumping away in the distance.

"oh if you wanted a kiss why didn't you say!" you teased, kissing her cheek as she pushed you away with a roll of her eyes, having adopted an older sister role of sorts since you'd both moved to arsenal this season.

of course you were already welcomed in by your fellow national team mates, grateful to know some of the team on your first day as lina and stina both wasted no time showing the two of you around and making sure you settled in.

stina in particular you'd always been quite fond of, the two of you often spending time together on national duty you were hopeful that it might continue to build into something a little more than friends now you both played for arsenal.

you'd liked her for a couple of years now, more of a silly little crush than anything else that you always assumed was one way. well you did, until the world cup.

you were all out as a team celebrating your bronze medals when stina had pulled you away from the group claiming she didn't want to go to the toilet by herself, only within seconds of the two of you having a moment alone her lips were on yours.

the kiss was messy to say the least with both your bloodstreams pumped full of alcohol, though you never got a chance to see where it might have lead as a very drunk frido stumbled around the corner and crashed into the two of you, stina practically running away the moment she did leaving you to look after frido and with a head a mess of thoughts.

you'd waited to see if she'd bring up the kiss, she never did.

afraid she was just too drunk to remember or worse she'd purposefully chosen to forget, you kept it to yourself and remained grateful it didn't change how the blonde acted around you.

especially now at the same club you found yourself spending even more time with her, though rarely one on one it was generally in a group setting she still gravitated to your side, pairing up for drills and sitting beside you most chances she could.

if you didn't know any better you'd swear sometimes she flirted with you, showering you with praise and compliments followed by an awkward little smile or hug before she'd race away and leave you wondering if maybe she did remember the kiss.

then reality would sink in and you'd remind yourself that this was just how stina was, how she'd always be and that just friends seemed to be your destined fate together.

hearing your phone start to ring you nodded for amanda to enter the changing room as you speed walked a little more out of earshot of the music pumping from inside as you clicked accept and moved it to your ear.

"Vännen!" you smiled hearing the familiar accent ring through the phone. "hello frido." you chuckled, dumping your bag by your feet and leaning your back against the wall behind you.

"hello frido. god you sound so english!" the woman gagged making you laugh and curse at her in swedish. "sorry should i have said it in spanish? hola puta!" you teased as she clicked her tongue at you and you could only imagine the way her eyes would be rolling on the other end of the line.

"i'll be having alexia speak with laia if she's going to continue to teach you only bad words in spanish!" the blonde warned jokingly though you really wouldn't put it past her to do so. "how is the knee Gumman?" you smirked as she swore at you with a huff for the nickname meaning old woman.

"still attached to my leg, we are getting there. very slowly!" frido sighed as you frowned sympathetically, having been looked after by the older girl ever since you'd joined the national team years ago you cared for her very deeply so to know she was unable to play at the moment was painful.

"how is your crush on stina?" your sympathy melted away at her teasing tone. "she is so confusing, it kills me!" you groaned, looking around to make sure you were alone as frido prompted you to elaborate.

"when it is just us she is so sweet. always getting things for me like my food or my bag or my boots, pulling me to sit with her on the bus, always complimenting me and hugging me and i think she might like me back. but she is that way with everyone!" you sighed, rubbing your spare hand against your face and noticing a few of the girls start to file out of the change rooms for training.

"but she has not kissed everyone Vännen. tell her how you feel!" frido reminded softly as you sighed. "she does not remember that, or if she does then she has chosen to forget, and i do not wish to make a fool of myself by bringing it up or ruining things. i have to go we have training, i will call you tonight?" you offered, wanting a better chance to catch up with the girl who agreed before you ended the call.

now one of the last to get ready you hurried down the hall and into the change rooms, dropping down by your cubby and hurrying to change into your boots, stripping off your hoodie and tossing it behind you.

"did someone sleep in this morning?" you glanced up to meet bright blue eyes and an amused smile. "no i was speaking with frido." you returned her smile, lacing up your boots and rummaging around for your drink bottle with a frown.

though before you could worry any further it appeared in front of you in stina's tight hold, you taking it from her and standing with a grateful smile. "tack själv!" you sighed and craned your head up to kiss her cheek, walking out of the change rooms and missing the way the blondes whole face lit up bright red and she hurried after you.

"the decorations are nice." you smiled as she caught up with you, the clacking of your boots loud against the polished floors as stina hummed in agreement.

the morning passed by with nothing out of the ordinary, everyone pausing just before lunch to watch laura do her first run on the grass, both you and stina quite close with the austrian defender cheered loudly and proudly.

breaking for lunch everyone returned to the change rooms to swap shoes, the afternoons media session studying the weekends opponents not requiring cleats.

"mistletoe Snygging!" you barely had time to look up before katie had almost tackled you to the bench, faux bunch in her hand and held over your head as she pressed a wet kiss to your cheek and you pushed her off wiping your cheek.

"who taught you Snygging?" you laughed as she grinned and nodded to lina before racing off to find another victim. "i never understand that." you looked to your right to meet stinas frown. "what?" you questioned, slipping your hoodie back on over your training top.

"mistletoe, the kissing. seems silly!" stina shrugged as you only hummed. "i think its sweet, maybe a little silly but still fun." you smiled softly, looking up as vic and kyra raced past, vic having 'accidentally' dumped her water on the australians head.

"ah! stop that, go change you are all wet and its freezing." you warned the younger girls who ignored you with a shrug, kyra aiming her bottle at vic who ducked at the last minute causing kyra to spray her bottle all over you.

"sorry!" the australian apologized with a wince as steph grabbed her and you sighed waving her away. "here." you felt a tap to your thigh and looked up to see stina offering you her own hoodie which you gratefully accepted after peeling off your own soaked one.

you tried not to dwell on how it felt to be wrapped up in the large bundle of material, drowned in the scent of her shampoo and the woody tones of her perfume which tickled at your nose and allowed your body to settle.

"won't you be cold?" you questioned as she changed out of her long sleeve into her short. "some of us have real scandinavian blood in us, don't feel the cold." she teased as you pinched her and she laughed, offering you a hand up.

you expected her to let go of you once she pulled you to your feet but to your surprise her arm settled over your shoulders pulling you into her side as she walked the two of you toward the cafeteria.

"are you going home for christmas?" the blonde asked curiously as you gave her a strange look. "we booked the same flight back!" you laughed, all four of you travelling home together at the end of the season having booked the tickets only a couple of weeks ago.

"no! i mean to your families house." stina corrected, cheeks tinted slightly pink as she handed you a tray. "oh! no, my sister is hosting everyone this year." the two of you conversed about your plans, laura joining you as you both pulled her into tight hugs of congratulation and stinas arm left your shoulder.

filing into the media room after lunch it wasn't anything new when stina tugged on the back of your her hoodie to signal you sit beside her, your head falling to her shoulder as you chatted to alessia in front of you.

the room quietened as jonas and the coaching staff arrived, everyone settling down and paying attention throughout the entire presentation.

when the lights flicked back on a couple of hours later the room winced and chatter resumed as the coaching staff left and everyone started to stretch out tired limbs and do the same.

wandering back toward the change rooms to grab bags and head off for the day the mood was upbeat, everyone tired but excited to be done for the day, a group invitation of going out for dinner thrown about as some accepted but most declined with the weather outside worsening.

"ah ah ah!" you jolted to a stop as a hand planted on your chest stopping you in your tracks as stina ran into the back of you and apologised, katie blocking the two of you from entering.

"mistletoe!" katie smirked nodding upwards as you rolled your eyes. "didn't see you harassing anyone else for a kiss mccabe!" you chuckled, trying to go around her as she blocked the doorway again.

"not me. the two of you, go on! its bad luck not to have a little smooch." katie grinned wolfishly wiggling her eyebrows, waving off a few of the girls who yelled out from inside for her to leave you both alone.

"katie come on, move." you groaned trying to shoulder her out of the way without succeeding in moving her an inch. "stina! don't want bad luck do ya?" the irishwoman grinned over your head to the taller girl behind you who up until now hadn't said a word.

"i do not care and i do not want to kiss her katie, move." her words were blunt and hurt you much more than you cared to admit, katie not missing the way your face changed to convey so and quickly moving out of your way as you hurried inside.

"hey Älskling-" you heard amanda sit beside you and place a hand on your shoulder with a concerned look as you shook your head and pushed away her hand. "can we go please?" you murmured quietly grabbing your bag, cheeks hot with humiliation as the older girl nodded.

pulling off stina's hoodie you shoved it into her hands without a word or a look in her direction and pushed past her, ignoring her calls after you as you followed amanda out to the car, hearing kim and leah rip into katie for embarrassing the two of you and trying not to pretend you cared.

"vänta en minut!" footsteps pounded after you as amanda turned and spotted stina hurrying after the two of you, squeezing your arm and saying she'd wait for you in the car, leaving before you could even say another word.

with a sigh you stopped, allowing stina to catch up to you and find her breath for a moment, nodding for you to follow her into one of the meeting rooms for a little privacy.

"i'm so sorry, it came out wrong." she rushed out quickly, hands playing with the strap of her gym bag as you shrugged. "its fine stina, no need to be sorry." you forced a smile and turned to leave as she moved to grab your wrist.

"please, hear me out." she pleaded as you gave her an odd look but nodded, gesturing for her to continue as she took a deep breath. "okay. i just-" she paused, clearly struggling with how to continue.

"at the world cup, there was one night after the win when we went out partying. we were very drunk and you looked so happy and beautiful and...free." your cheeks blushed a little at her words not expecting them.

"i saw you dancing with the others and not with me so i took your hand and told you to come to the toilet with me-" your chest tightened at her words, not daring to believe you were really hearing this.

"-but really i just wanted to kiss you, with the alcohol in me i felt like i had all the courage i never had before." your breath stopped entirely at that.

"and so we..." she trailed off rubbing the back of her neck. "-we kissed." you finished for her as she gave you an incredulous look of surprise. "you remember?" you nodded at that and her face seemed to fall.

"this was a mistake." she shook her head and turned to leave as now you took hold of her wrist and pulled her back. "no, please finish." you asked, voice barely above a whisper as she hesitated but eventually nodded.

"-we kissed. then frido interrupted and you looked embarrassed so i left, then we never spoke about it so i assumed you were just too drunk and thats why you kissed me back." she admitted quietly and you couldn't help but let out a peal of laughter.

"what is funny?" "this. you, me, all of it." "i knew this was a mistake."

"no no! i remember the kiss yes, but when you left and never mentioned it i thought you were too drunk to remember or that you'd maybe chosen to forget." you bit your lip as stinas eyes widened.

"i like you but i didn't think you liked me back." stina blurted out, tips of her ears burning bright red as your eyes bugged. "i like you too, i didn't think you liked me back!"

"so we-" "-we both remember." "but we-" "-we both didn't bring it up." "and we-" "-we both like each other."

at that a silence built between you, both searching one anothers faces for any signs of insincerity in your confessions. suddenly stina let out a groan, cheeks red with embarrassment as she buried her face in her hands.

"we are very stupid." "so stupid."

at that you both shared a smile which built into a laugh, the taller girl pulling you into a hug as you melted into her, the air around you starting to crackle with an odd feeling as your laughter died down and you craned your head back to look up at her.

"hey stina." you spoke as she raised an eyebrow. "mistletoe." you pointed above her head with a small smile as her eyes flicked upward and she let out a laugh. "katie said it is bad luck, right?"

at that she ducked her head to press her lips to yours, your mouths slotting against one anothers perfectly as you relaxed into her, balling her top in your fists as your head spun like a top.

this kiss was very different to the last. her lips were soft and welcoming, and she kissed you so tenderly as if you might break if she wasn't careful, one hand cupping your cheek to deepen it slightly, testing the waters as her tongue swiped against your bottom lip and you parted them slightly to allow her tongue to slip into your mouth.

pulling away after a few beats of silence passed the two of you blushed and refused to look at one another, though still pressed together there was very little other options.

"oh you are joking!" you leapt away from one another and looked to the door where amanda was throwing her head back with a groan, the two of you sending her strange looks as she clicked her tongue.

"you both could not have waited till next season? i owe frido money now!"

[girlgenius1111]

did you think i wouldn't come?

viv x lioness reader post olympic qualification. angst + fluff

-----

Viv head towards baggage claim, not really sure what she would find waiting for her there. She'd offered to uber, but you'd insisted that you pick her up.

She hadn't had a chance to talk to you on the phone yet, and she wasn't sure she really believed that you weren't mad at her. Your texts seemed normal, but she couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling deep in her gut that you were mad.

Even though you promised her before you left that you wouldn't be, and she did the same. She knows that she wouldn't have been mad at you, had the tables been turned. Frustrated with the results, sure, but not mad at you.

She would understand, though, if you were upset. You hated losing. Kind of expected from a professional athlete, but Viv knew how hard the team, how hard you, had been working, and not making it to the olympics would be crushing for you.

So, she'd texted before her flight, offering to get a ride from the airport, and even stay at Katie's for a few days, if you needed space. You'd shaken off her offer, telling her not to be silly. Despite this, as she neared baggage claim, as she neared you, she couldn't help the growing anxiety inside her.

She'd barely gotten a glimpse of you before you were tackling her in a hug. She caught you in her arms easily, although quite surprised.

"Vivianne," you sung in her ear, voice sweet and upbeat. "Congratulations," you told her. You felt her stiffen at her words, and pulled back from the hug. "What's wrong?"

Viv couldn't find a hint of anger, frustration, any negative emotion on your face. You only looked at her with love, and a little bit of concern. Snapping out of her surprise, she responded.

"Nothing! How are you?" she questioned, changing the subject.

"I"m good, I missed you," you said, pulling her back in for another hug. She held you tightly. This was better than she expected, so much better. She'd missed you too, a lot, but she hadn't allowed herself to hope to see you much in the first few days back.

"How is your knee?" you ask, after pulling back from the hug once again.

"It's okay. A little sore, but definitely better," Viv tells you, trying to match your unbothered energy, even though she's completely confused, completely stunned at your lack of anger with her. You nod, taking her bag from her and ushering her out to the car. You continue to ask her questions, talking easily with her as you begin the drive home.

Vivianne is hesitant, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You notice her nervous demeanor, but you know Viv well. Pushing her to talk to you when she's upset about something never works, she had to come to you. So, you let the small talk fade out, as your girlfriend's mind is clearly elsewhere.

The Dutch woman doesn't even notice when you pull into the driveway, completely lost in her thoughts. You nudge her, sending a soft smile her way. She finds herself inside, sitting on the couch, her bags left without a thought at the door. Her nerves and her guilt had only increased since arriving back home, and she was completely unresponsive to you when you join her.

She knows you're waiting for her to talk, watching her face carefully for any sign as to what's going on. Viv doesn't really know where to start, though, and it seems you'll have to prompt her if you want her to talk sometime in the next 2 hours.

"Vivianne, is everything okay?" you ask finally, well aware that something is not okay.

"I don't understand," the Dutch woman responds quietly, staring hard at the couch.

"Don't understand what, my love?" You hoped this would get you to the bottom of whatever had clearly been bothering her since arriving home.

"Why aren't you mad at me?" She asked. Your brow furrowed.

"Why would I be?"

"We knocked you guys out. You aren't going to the olympics, and we are."

"Why would I be mad at you about that?" Viv didn't really seem to have a response to that. Sensing her inability to explain, you continued. "You guys worked really hard. You played a good game, and you scored the right amount of goals to beat us out. Obviously, it sucks, but really, Viv, why would I be mad at you about that?"

Viv elects to ignore your last question, opting instead to focus on the first part. "You all worked hard, too. You deserved it just as much as we did."

"Yeah, that's true. It didn't work out for us though." You respond. Viv looks at you incredulously, unsure how you could be so cavalier about something so important.

"I'm disappointed, yeah. And I was upset, at first, because it was so close, we were so close. But I was never upset with you. The Dutch team as a whole? Sure." Not even a flicker of a smile at your attempt at a joke.

"You're really not mad at me?" she asks, staring hard at you, as if searching for any hint that you were lying.

"No, I'm really not. I'll never be mad at you for succeeding, even if it means that I didn't get to," You tell her, hell bent on convincing her. She still looked so unsure, and you brought your hands up to cup her cheeks gently.

"Vivianne, I'm not mad at you, stop looking so serious. Everything is fine, you don't need to worry. I still love you, even though you beat me," you're half joking again, but you don't miss the way relief flickers across your girlfriend's face. It's like a stab to the chest, realizing she was worried that you wouldn't love her anymore because of this.

"Baby, football is football. It's our job, and it's important to me, but it's not more important than you. Nothing is. Our relationship is completely separate from what happens on the pitch, and I would never let how your team performs change how I feel about you. You'd have to do a lot more than knock me out of the Olympics to get me to stop loving you," you tell her, putting as much conviction as you can behind your words.

Vivianne has the decency to look somewhat embarrassed, especially when you put it like that. She can't help but believe you, honestly, not when you're looking at her the same way you always have.

"Okay?" you ask, when she still hasn't said anything.

"Okay," she says softly, leaning over to rest against you. You kiss the top of her head, wrapping her up in your arms. "I love you too, by the way,' she tells you, feeling your chest vibrate under her with a laugh.

"Good," you tell her, satisfied that she believes you now. "What do you want for dinner? I was thinking italian."

"Eh. I kind of wanted chinese," she tells you, relaxing into your body at the change in conversation.

"Well, you get to go to the olympics, so I think I should get to pick dinner," you say, smirking down at her.

"Y/n!" she complains, not finding your joke funny at all. Alright, it was a little funny. But only because it was you. Anyone else making that joke would have just annoyed her. You didn't seem to be able to do that, though, no matter what you did. Apparently, you felt the same way.

-----

[roosterforme]

How You Play the Game Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was miserable without you, and the pain just wasn't lessening even though you left him weeks ago. He needed to find a way to move on, because you didn't want him, and you weren't coming back. But he should have known there was no substitute for the best thing he'd ever had.

Warnings: Swears, broken heart, angst, consensual sex, sex with a condom while intoxicated (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Weeks later...

As you flew to Vancouver from Detroit, you thought about that six hour flight to Boston where you hadn't stopped crying for a single minute. You thought about leaving San Diego and how it broke your heart to move on to the next city and the next assignment. At least this time you had a window seat instead of the middle seat in the last row. And this time you weren't continually wiping your tears on Bradley's Padres jersey. 

You had his jersey on again today, but this time you felt calm as you reached into your bag to take out your computer and read over the research you'd outlined about the Vancouver Canucks. Your eyes caught on the blue golf ball, and after a second of hesitation, you reached for that instead. 

You'd taken it everywhere with you. It joined you in every hotel room, on every flight and in every rental car. You had it with you in your tote bag when you were in Boston about a month ago working on the exclusive with the Bruins' coaching staff. You were carrying it when you bumped into Abigail Archer for the first time in person. 

With your article completely forgotten now, you dug your phone out of your pocket. It was in airplane mode, but you took a deep breath and unlocked it. You had to scroll a bit to get to the text thread with Bradley, and then you tapped his name and you almost let the tears rise to the surface. You held them back as you read the series of sporadic messages he'd sent you since early November.

I miss you. 

Did you make it to Boston safely?

Ace, please call me back. I miss you so much. 

I have this whole weekend off, and I can't help but think it would be easy for me to fly to wherever you are. If you would want that. 

I still miss you.

I hope you're doing well.

You hadn't responded to a single one of them. And you never called him back either. But sometimes, when you were in a hotel room in a city that you couldn't even identify without looking at your calendar app, you'd get lonely enough to listen to his voicemail message. See ya, Ace.

It took until you met Bradley Bradshaw for you to really understand just how lonely you were. Going back to your apartment in New York City didn't feel like going home. There was nothing there that made you smile. There were no baseball cards or too small Angels tee shirts. There was no Bradley making sure you were taking a break when you needed one. 

And he was part of the reason why you let yourself start to be convinced that you could have more out of your career. Maybe he was right. Somebody else might have something better to offer than Greg or the New York Times. When you talked to Abigail and started to test the waters, it wasn't as terrifying as you thought it would be. Making some calls to see what else was out there ended up validating one fact for you: Bradley was right, your writing was in high demand.

But you had to complete your contract with Greg before you could do much else. And that included Detroit and Vancouver. But you hoped after this, your work-life balance might improve. If you decided to take this information back to Bradley, you hoped he would listen to you. Maybe he would even see what you wrote about your career change in your Detroit Red Wings article. If he was even still reading your articles. There was a chance he might still miss you now, and maybe he'd understand that you needed to see the bigger picture for yourself first. 

Before you left him alone in his bed, he told you that you knew where to find him. He made you feel like it was still okay to go there.

--------------------------

Bradley walked past his coffee table dressed in his flight suit with his travel mug of coffee in his hand. He paused at the front door and looked back at the mess he still couldn't bring himself to clean up. You left him weeks ago, damn near a month ago, but he just couldn't bring himself to clean up all of the fucking baseball cards. 

He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He was being ridiculous. He was never ridiculous before he met you, so you must have made him this way. Every time he tried to clean them up and put them back out in his garage, his hands faltered and he left the cards out on the table. It was like some sort of sick reminder that you'd really been here with him. It was a way to convince himself he didn't imagine up the perfect woman in his mind and then have to live through the aftermath of watching her leave. 

He tightened his fingers around his mug and rubbed the heel of his other hand against his eyes. Then he took his phone out. He knew he shouldn't do it since you never answered his other messages before, but he texted you anyway. 

I hope you're doing well.

When he re-read what he'd sent, he started to panic. It sort of sounded like he meant it with an air of finality. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he didn't want to hear from you, because it was quite the opposite. There were times when he felt so lonely, he'd have done anything for you to write to him or call him back. 

He swore he could still smell you in his house, and right now it felt a little too much like you were there. He wrenched his front door open and slammed it closed behind him, breathing in the crisp December morning air. He had to start making some changes, and he needed to do it this week. You weren't going to respond to him. After four weeks he should accept that as a fact and stop bugging you. 

He'd been skipping Hard Deck nights and leaving the locker room after work without really talking to anyone. Nat knew why he was miserable, but even she seemed surprised it had gone on for this long. 

A few days ago, she said, "You've never behaved like this over a woman before. This has all just been very surprising, and I don't know how to help you."

Bradley had shrugged and laughed sarcastically. "Well, I fell in love with her. First time for everything, right? I'll know better for next time."

And that was the truly fucked up part. He had fallen in love with you over the course of ten days. As he drove to work, he thought about your face and your voice. He knew exactly how many miles he put on his Bronco driving back and forth to see you at the games in Anaheim. He knew exactly how much money he spent on all the tickets. He knew how badly it hurt right now to be without you. And he knew he'd repeat everything all over again if he could see you for five minutes. 

Just like every other day, he had to collect himself before he could head inside to the locker room. There was no getting his time with you back. There was no second chance. There was no communication. He needed to stop. He took off his aviators that you'd liked so much and set them in his cup holder. When he checked the time on his phone, he had a notification that a new article from you had been posted eight minutes ago. It was like this every day. He'd wait to see each morning if you'd written anything, and then after it was posted, he'd read it at least three times. 

Your final World Series article was the worst one. It was released two days after you left. He must have read it a hundred times. He'd even take a screenshot of the short passage he was certain was about him.

This World Series was exciting and dynamic for so many reasons. We witnessed some of the best major league pitching in the last decade, and there were more stolen bases than the past three finals combined. Professionally, I may never witness anything like this again. And I can even tell you that on a personal level, I was profoundly changed for the better by everything I allowed myself to experience and enjoy between San Diego and Anaheim over the course of the series.

Bradley looked at his phone screen now. It had to stop. He desperately wanted to read your article on the Detroit Red Wings, but he needed to make this feeling stop. It was like he was constantly in pain every time he thought about you or even simply read your name on his phone. Your written words were never going to help him move on, so he needed to do something about it right now while he felt like he could. 

He deleted the New York Times app. He thought about deleting your number as well, but he needed to save some of his strength to get through his workday. So he just tucked his phone in his pocket and climbed out of the Bronco.

---------------------------

When Bradley walked into the Hard Deck on Friday night after work, he felt defeated and exhausted. He managed to delete the app you wrote for, but he still couldn't bring himself to delete your phone number. Moving on was a necessity right now. He didn't even know why he bothered to come to the bar, but staying home and looking at baseball cards on his coffee table didn't seem to be helping him. 

"You're here!" Nat called out as soon as he walked inside. The bar was decorated for Christmas. Was it that close to the holidays? He'd completely lost track of the weeks, but at the same time, he knew exactly how many days it had been since he'd seen you. His mind was too aware of that number, and it tacked a new one on each day. 

"Hey," Bradley managed to grunt when his friend came over to him and wrapped him up in a hug. The Christmas tree and the strings of lights blurred, and he had to close his eyes. He was missing the feel of your arms around him and the way you smelled. None of this was Nat's fault or anyone's fault really. Bradley didn't even blame you. He couldn't. You and he were nothing. 

"Let me get you a drink," Nat whispered, and she took him by the hand. He recognized the upbeat Christmas song, and he saw the guys waving from the pool table. But when he turned to face the bar, Shannon was right there with her usual smile and a pint glass in her hand. He didn't know why he wasn't expecting her. The last time he saw her was when he brought you here, and he'd give anything to go back to that night. 

Bradley just shook his head. "Something stronger. Please." Shannon raised one eyebrow at him and set the pint glass down in favor of a whiskey tumbler and a bottle of Johnnie Walker. "Yeah."

"Haven't seen you around in a few weeks," she said, watching the amber liquid slosh neatly up the side of the glass as she poured. "Kinda missed you." She met his eyes as she pushed the glass across the bar. "You look so sad."

He held eye contact with her, trying his best to push the intrusive thoughts away. "Maybe I'll be around more now," he muttered, downing the whole drink in one go and setting the glass down again. 

Shannon was familiar to him. Comfortable. He'd been messing around with women for damn near two decades without any deep feelings. You were really his first foray into something... more. But you were gone. You didn't want to talk to him. You weren't coming back.

She refilled his glass and said, "Take this one a little slower, Bradley." He nodded before downing it just like the first one, and she kind of smirked and shook her head. "You'll pay for this in the morning."

He laughed sardonically. "That's the idea." He left the empty glass on the bar with a little nod indicating that he would be back. He desperately needed to clear his head, but he'd been trying everything for weeks. Taking a walk outside, having a cold shower, going for a drive. Nothing fucking helped. 

He needed to forget the feel of your body and the sound of your voice. So he drank an extravagant amount of Johnnie Walker on Nat's tab, and he started to feel looser. He laughed at her when she asked how many he had so far. 

"Don't worry. I'll pay you back," he rasped with a smile that he knew could charm every woman except for his best friend. 

She just rubbed her hand up and down his arm and said, "I hope you know what you're doing. Let me know when you want me to get you home."

He kissed her cheek. "I'm fine, Nat. Just fine." He finished his tumbler and tried to remember if that was his fifth or his sixth, but it didn't matter. He was warm now, and his lips were a little numb. This was exactly what he needed tonight. After he shot a round of pool and lost, he flipped through the jukebox, but it was all bullshit Christmas music. He wasn't in the mood. He thought about playing the piano, but there was an empty stool at the bar now, so he headed in that direction.

"One more?" Bradley asked Shannon as he sat, and she reached out to touch his cheek.

"You sure you really need one?"

"Yep," he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat as she swam out of focus for a split second. "Just one more. It'll make it easier." 

She turned away from him to get one more clean glass. Then she filled it for him. "Thanks, Shannon," he muttered when she set it down in front of him. He was leaning on his propped up hand, and he knew she was kind of pretty. But he knew you were prettier and funnier and smarter. 

"You can't have what you want," he mumbled to himself after Shannon walked away. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and just looked at the screen. Delete it. He had to. He opened his contacts, and there you were right at the fucking top. 

Ace

You'd always be at the top, wouldn't you? 

Instead of deleting your number, he sent you a text before he could reconsider. 

Ace, I fell in love with you.

Fuck. Fuck! You didn't want him. And there was no way to take that message back now. He closed his eyes and shook his head, because he couldn't tell if he was about to cry or laugh. He was fucking miserable. Truly, he'd never experienced this before, and it hurt like hell. His thumb hovered over your name once again, but he couldn't delete it. He drank the whiskey and tried again. But still nothing. 

He watched Shannon move around behind the bar. She wasn't you. She wasn't what he wanted, but when she announced that it was last call, she made her way over to him. 

"But no more for you," she teased, reaching to take his glass away. But he had her wrist in his hand before he registered what he was doing. She looked a little surprised. The tears were in his eyes again, but maybe it wasn't so obvious to her. He couldn't say the words. He needed her to be the one. When he licked his lips, she leaned a little closer. "I'm done in fifteen. Are you interested? Or are you too drunk?"

He took a deep breath as his eyes closed. He needed to try to move on. The pain needed to stop, or else he didn't know what he would do. Right now he was numb enough. It was now or never. "I'm interested."

Bradley was very aware of what he was doing, it just vaguely seemed like someone else was doing it. He gave his keys to Shannon once they were outside. "Remember where I live?" he asked, walking toward the Bronco. 

"Of course I do," she whispered. 

He found himself with his back against the passenger side door with Shannon's lips on his. It felt fine. Would probably feel better the more he got used to it again. He could do this. He kissed her back and told her to drive, because he knew he shouldn't. 

She drove and parked and took him by the hand, leading him inside his house. As soon as he saw the baseball cards, he wanted to upend his coffee table. He wanted to do this and get it over with and go to sleep for a week. And if he didn't feel better after that, then he didn't know what he was going to do. 

When Shannon tried to turn on his bedroom light, he took her hand in his and guided it away from the switch. "Too bright," he mumbled, and she started to get undressed. He stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom and closed the door. When he looked in the mirror, he'd never seen anything quite so pitiful. He splashed a little water on his face, but it just made his flushed cheeks stand out more. He dug around under the sink for some condoms he thought he still had. When his hand closed around the box, he sat back against the wall and cried. 

He had no idea how long he was in the bathroom. He took his shirt off and used it to wipe his face. You didn't want him. He went back to his bedroom where Shannon was naked on his bed, her skin glowing in the light filtering in from the bathroom where he forgot to flip the switch off.

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. But she must have taken that as a sign that he was ready to go. He wasn't, but he told himself he was. She touched him, and he let her. She kissed him some more, and he let her do that, too. He reciprocated. He knew to do that much. But it didn't feel like anything. He fucked her, but it just wasn't right. And then he fell asleep with a throbbing head and an aching heart and the wrong woman next to him. 

-----------------------

It had been years since Bradley had a hangover. When he opened his eyes, his left arm was hanging off of his bed, and his face was halfway smashed in his pillow. His mouth was completely dry, and he tried to press his lips together and swallow. He had no idea how he got home or what time it was. 

"Oh, shit," he groaned. He texted you last night. When he was sitting at the bar. He was pretty sure he told you he fell in love with you. He knew you wouldn't write back. You must have blocked his number by now. He was probably texting nobody by this point, but it still hurt like hell that you didn't want him the way he wanted you.

Then he remembered what he did after he texted you, and the bile rose in his throat so quickly. Shannon was right there next to him when he turned his head. He let her sleep over. He never let her sleep over before this. She was in your spot. He needed her gone immediately. 

"Hey," he grunted, his throat like sandpaper. "Shannon. You need to leave." 

She rolled over and glared at him. "Still tired," she whispered, completely naked in his bed. 

"Please," he begged. He was so fucking stupid, it was incredible. Now he was miserable and hungover and angry with himself. "I need you to."

She sighed and stretched, and Bradley made a beeline for the bathroom, stepping on a condom wrapper on the way. At least there was that. Then he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He sat back against the wall for a few minutes, afraid there might be more he had to throw up. He knew his head was throbbing due more to the fact that he regretted everything he did last night with Shannon than him drinking most of a bottle of whiskey. 

There was tapping on the door. "If you want me to leave, I need to use the bathroom."

"Give me a minute," he groaned, standing up and looking at himself in the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale. When he brushed his teeth, he felt the tears burning behind his eyes once again. Was this ever going to stop? It had been more than a month. 

Bradley rinsed his mouth and opened the door, barely looking at Shannon as she walked past him, still naked. He went back into his bedroom for a pair of clean underwear and some gym shorts and fought the urge to put all of his bedding in the washing machine. He couldn't even be in here right now, so he left for the kitchen. And he passed the fucking baseball cards again. He would have to throw them away or ask someone to come get them, because he needed them gone as much as he needed Shannon to leave. 

As he turned on his coffee maker, he heard someone knocking on his front door. He already wanted this fucking day to end. He tried not to look at the baseball cards as he passed the table and wrenched his front door open, and then his jaw dropped in surprise.

"Bradley. Hi."

He braced his hand against the door frame as he looked at you standing there on his tiny porch. You were wearing his Padres jersey. He had to be hallucinating. This had to be a dream. You were here.

"Ace."

He watched your face light up at the nickname, and you laughed softly as you examined him like you'd been dying to see him. He gripped the doorframe a little harder as he reached his other hand out to cup your chin and feel your silky skin.

"Holy shit, Baby. What are you doing here?" His heart was pounding, but he felt somehow normal again. Just like he had five weeks ago before you left him in a state of panic. 

"I came to see you." He stroked his thumb along your lip, but you didn't back away. In fact you took a tiny step closer as you added, "I have to be up in Anaheim tomorrow afternoon for some Ducks interviews, but I wanted to see you first. I thought we could talk."

Your eyes were open and earnest, and Bradley felt weak as he looked at his jersey on you. He let his hand drop away from your face, because he had no idea what to say to you right now. He had convinced himself he'd never see you again. "Did you get my texts? Or did you block my number?"

You pressed your lips together and then whispered, "I got your texts. And I've listened to your voicemail a lot. I've missed you." Bradley watched you smile tentatively and give him a little shrug. 

"You missed me," he said in disbelief. "And you got my messages. And you missed me. And you're wearing my jersey."

You looked down at yourself and laughed. "I've been wearing pretty frequently, actually. Turns out I don't have a dress code at my new office, which ironically is in Houston now, but I hardly ever have to be there in person."

When you met his eyes again, he asked. "New office?" He was so confused as he reached out and stroked your cheek with his fingers again just to try to make sure you were still real. 

"Yeah," you said softly, taking another step closer to him. "I have you to thank for that. I have you to thank for a lot of things." You bit your lip before you said, "I left the New York Times. I just finished my last assignment for Greg yesterday. I'm working on a brand new piece now. I actually begged my new employer to let me come back to California for the Anaheim Ducks article even though it's a bit of a fluff piece, because it meant I could come here and tell you that I'm happier now."

"You are?" he asked, unsure what you meant by that. He was having a hard time listening to your voice and looking at your face at the same time, and he wondered how he'd managed ten days in your presence for the World Series. You were just so overwhelmingly perfect. 

"Yes, Bradley. You made me think about my career, and I kind of took the time to change some of my priorities. Because if there's a man as incredible as you who is willing to take a chance on me, then I can take the same kind of chance on myself."

"Ace."

You smiled up at what he was sure was a look of longing on his face. "I'm working for Velocity Report now, and I'm going to have a lot more time off between assignments. Which is important, because you reminded me that I need to take breaks and eat and take care of myself. Even when you're not around."

"I loved doing that for you," he gasped, suddenly dying to kiss you. 

"Yeah, well, you were really good at it," you said as your smile faded a little bit. "But that's why I'm here. To tell you all of this in person. You deserve to hear it in person instead of over the phone, especially since I never responded to you. I wanted to, but I just wasn't ready until now. And I don't know if you read what I said about you in my Detroit Red Wings article... but, I still miss you. And I love you."

His heart was pounding so hard, he thought he was going to pass out. "You love me?" he asked, absolutely needing you to say it again for him as your eyes drifted to where the box of baseball cards was still out on the coffee table. 

Your smile grew as you reached out for his hand and tugged him closer like you were going to kiss him. "Yes, I do. I love-"

Bradley heard a noise behind him, and his heart sank as his eyes went wide. You were looking off to the side, and he heard Shannon's voice. "Oh, sorry." He turned to see her with a puzzled look on her face. He had completely forgotten she was even here. After a few minutes in your presence, you were the only thing that mattered.

"Oh my god," you gasped, wrenching yourself away from Bradley. "Oh, fuck." You looked at him with your hands on your forehead and tears in your eyes. "You know what? Forget I was even here. I'm sorry," you gasped, turning on your heel and walking full speed across his yard to the black car that was parked at his curb. 

It took him a second, but then he was right behind you. "Ace! No, Baby, you don't understand." But it didn't look like you were listening as you dug the keys to your rental car out of your pocket. "Ace! Please!" He ran barefoot out onto the street to try to beat you to the car door, but you were too fast. When he reached for your hand and spun you around to face him, you had tears streaming down your cheeks. 

He was frozen, clinging to your hand as you whispered, "She's the bartender. I should have never come here."

"No," he begged, stepping into your personal space, but you kept dodging him. "It's nothing. I want you here. I need you here."

But you pulled your hand free and reached for the door handle as you sobbed, and it broke Bradley's heart. "I need to go."

He was ready to drop to his knees. "She doesn't mean anything, Ace! Please! I missed you too, Baby! I've been miserable without you, okay? You have no idea." 

You wouldn't even look at him now as you pushed him out of the way so you could climb in the car. He felt all of his dreams slipping through his fingers twice now as you slammed the door closed, started the engine and drove.

"Ace!" he shouted running alongside your door until you hit the accelerator and left him standing in the middle of his street without shoes on. "Ace. I love you," he whispered as you turned left at the end of his block, and then you were out of sight. 

Bradley sank down until he was squatting with his face buried in his palms. "Fuck!" he screamed, the sound only slightly muffled as he jumped up to his feet and made his way back to his house where Shannon was standing on his porch. She looked disgusted as another car pulled up in front of his house. 

"Why are we sleeping together if you're clearly in love with her?" she asked, barely looking at him as she headed toward her Uber. "You should go take care of that."

As Bradley watched her away, he tried to pinpoint exactly how he'd fucked all of this up. He wondered if there was any way to fix it. Once again, he couldn't breathe correctly as that crushing feeling returned to his lungs. This feeling has vanished for those few minutes he was with you again.

"Maybe you don't even deserve her," he told himself as he walked back inside alone, thinking about how for a minute there, you'd loved him back.

------------------------------

Oh, Bradley. Oh, you sweet thing. Should I add one more part? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 10

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of Billy groping reader, Billy saying gross things about reader (as always), mentions of weed and alcohol, Steve’s pov!

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve learns how to move on from the past and give the love he wanted a second try.

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: @mysticmunson thank you for helping me with ideas and being a huge inspiration as always, I love u!! 🫶🏻

series masterlist

-

Winter break is almost over and 1984 has passed in a blur. So much has happened, things that Steve didn’t think would happen. Had someone told him that he would start a new year without you, a year back, he would call them crazy. You had always been there, walking into every year with him.

This time you are not here. You weren’t the one to kiss him at midnight. You aren’t the one he will go home with. He can’t help but wonder if you kissed him at midnight. If you think about him the way he thinks about you, right now.

He shouldn’t be. He should be thinking about her. Nancy who is willing to stay with him even after he confessed to her that he still loves you. The day after you left him standing in your driveway, he told her everything. He told her about the kiss that almost happened if you hadn’t pushed him away. He told her about the fight you two have had. He told her about the party. He came clean about everything. He promised himself that he wouldn’t lie or keep any secrets anymore. He wants to be better.

She didn’t get angry at him like he thought she would. She seemed to understand it but she was hurt and she was ready to end things. He was too. 

He didn’t see a point in keeping the relationship going. Why should he? You are the one for him, you are the one he wants, you are the one he loves. 

They had talked about breaking up but he hated the thought of being alone, he hated the feeling of being unneeded and unloved. He thought about your words – She is the one for you. You should be with her. I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.

You had always been the selfless one, the one who would sacrifice her feelings to save someone else's. You saw something in him with Nancy, something that you didn’t see in him when he was still with you and he couldn’t help but think that maybe you were right. 

Maybe she is the one for him, after all.

Maybe he just really has to let you go so he can let her in. Maybe he can be good for her, the way he could never be good for you. Maybe he can be a better boyfriend for her. Maybe he can change. Maybe he can learn. Maybe he can learn how to stop loving you. Maybe he can be happy with her. Maybe he can make her happy. Maybe he can get you back someday. Maybe. 

They didn’t break up. He didn’t leave and she didn’t leave him but they settled on a break. 

On Christmas night, he went on a walk and passed by your house. He saw you with him and the sight of you standing under the falling snow, smiling up at him as though he is the only good thing in this world made him feel sick. He didn’t stick around long enough to see that you had never kissed him, that you simply went back to throwing snowballs at each other.

He went back to Nancy the next day and asked for a second chance, a fresh start. He didn’t question why she hesitated, he didn’t question the guilty look in her eyes. She said yes and that’s all it mattered. 

She is all that matters now. 

Steve might never let you go but he is willing to try. 

You don’t want him anymore and the look in your eyes showed him that you won’t ever give him a second chance again. It’s over.

You are moving on. 

And so should he. 

And he tries, he really tries. But when school starts and he sees you again, he can’t ignore the pain in his chest when you walk past him like you are nothing but strangers. 

When he left you, you pretended that he didn’t exist. You didn’t acknowledge his presence, you always acted like he wasn’t there, like he was a ghost. 

But now, after you talked things out and you were the one to leave, this time, things are different. You don’t pretend that he doesn’t exist, you do acknowledge his presence now and you don’t act like he isn’t there. You see him and you don’t pretend to not see him when you walk past him. Your eyes lock when you see each other in the hallway or in the parking lot but the look in your eyes that he was used to, is long gone. There is nothing in your eyes when you look at him. There is no love, no happiness, no excitement, no warmth, no longing. All these things are long gone. The way you look at him now, is the way you look at a stranger you pass by. He has become a stranger to you and that hurts so much more than being ignored by you. 

You don’t see him as your friend anymore, you don’t see him as your past lover anymore, you don’t see him as anything good in your life. 

Every time he thinks that it can’t hit him any harder, it hits him even harder. The realization that he is nothing but a stranger to you now, broke his heart all over again and took everything in him not to break down in the school's hallway. 

A month had passed since the night you had become strangers and while you seem to have a great time, Steve is trying his hardest to keep himself together, to be a good boyfriend for her. 

Billy’s laughter pulls him out of his thoughts, he narrows his eyes at the blond, who pushes Tommy back so he can look at himself in the mirror. 

The smell of the locker room makes Steve feel sick and he can’t wait to get out. A cloud of cologne mixed with sweat and the fog from the showers hangs over the room. He looks into the mirror as he dries his hair with the towel. Drops of water dribble down his chest. Steve looks at Eddie through the mirror. He is surprised to see him here. Usually, he skips gym class. His friend Jeff is standing next to him as he puts his shirt on, laughing at something Eddie had whispered to him. 

Eddie is still shirtless, his jeans hang low on his hips, the chain jingles as he fastens his belt. Steve can’t help but compare himself to Eddie. His hair is darker and longer and so are his eyes. He has tattoos, on his arms and on his chest – something that he doesn’t have. He wears rings and chains, clothes that Steve would never wear. 

Is Eddie your type? Is he the kind of guy you go for now?

“Hey Munson!” 

Steve glances at Tommy, who is already wearing a smirk on his face as he looks the metalhead up and down. 

Eddie turns around to face the jock. 

“I never seen you in P.E., are you trying to impress someone?” 

“Yeah, your mom.” Eddie smirks and turns back around to put his shirt on.

Billy snorts, licking his lips, he glances at Steve, “nah, he’s trying to impress someone else.” 

Tommy notices the smirk on Billy’s face. A laugh falls from his lips, “aw, is the freak trying to impress the queen?”

Jeff rolls his eyes and looks down as he puts his shoes on. He already knows what’s coming next.

“I don’t think you can impress her with your shitty car and your dirty trailer, Munson.”

Jeff notices the way Eddie clenches jaw, the way his eyes fill with anger. 

Steve narrows his eyes at Billy and Tommy. 

“Yeah. I mean going from a rich kid to some lowlife trailer trash–” 

“Shut the hell up, Tommy,” Steve snaps at his old friend. “Leave him alone.”

Everyone in the locker room, including Eddie, turns to look at Steve in shock. Never has Steve ever stood up for anyone, let alone someone like Eddie. 

Steve is sick of the cruel words he hears daily, they may not be directed at him but he still can’t stand them. He doesn’t like him but Eddie doesn’t deserve this. He helped him and made sure he got home safe when he got drunk at the Hideout, he owes this to him. 

He glares at his old friend and steps towards him. 

“Put your clothes on and get the fuck out of here, man. I’m sick of you assholes.” 

Tommy laughs in surprise. 

“Wheeler is turning you into a pussy, Steve.” Billy says as he looks at him over Tommy’s shoulder.

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, he clenches his jaw. 

Tommy chuckles to himself and shakes his head, “he was always a pussy.”

Eddie looks at Steve, waiting for him to react. To his surprise, he turns around and continues to put on his clothes. 

“Says a guy who runs after balls and his cheating girlfriend.”

Jeff snaps his head up to look at his friend, he holds his fist up to his mouth as he tries to keep himself from laughing.

Steve looks at Eddie in surprise and narrows his eyes at Tommy, whose face gets redder each passing second. His breathing picks up and he clenches his fists. 

“What did you just say?” Tommy mumbles as he walks towards Eddie, who smirks at him. 

It’s no secret that Carol is cheating on Tommy, she’s been caught with a few too many basketball players behind the bleachers and even tried to make a move on Billy, in front of Tommy.  

“You heard me,” Eddie says, smirking. He isn’t afraid of Tommy or any of the other guys that try to give him a hard time. He isn’t immune to the cruel words or the bullying but he is good at hitting them back with harsh words, not caring that he might get hit with something more than a few words. Eddie put on armor and a front that keeps people like Tommy away from him, they always make sure to keep their distance – too afraid of the freak who worships the devil.

Billy looks at Eddie, he raises his brows. 

“You’re getting a little bit too comfortable back there, freak.”

“Just speaking the truth,” Eddie shrugs, snorting at Tommy who tries to intimidate him with a glare. He doesn’t step close enough to be able to even throw a punch, he keeps a safe distance, as always. 

“Careful there, Hagans. Or you might get sacrificed to the devil tonight.” Billy smirks.

Tommy finally backs away, shaking his head. 

Steve sighs to himself, he grabs his backpack and walks towards the door. He wonders how he could ever be friends with someone like Tommy. 

Why didn’t he listen to you when you told him that he was no real friend? 

Why didn’t he listen to you when you told him how awful he was?

Why didn’t he care when you told him how much you hated how he acted when he was around Tommy and Carol? 

How couldn’t he see how awful they were when he was still with you? 

Would things be different if he dropped them earlier on? 

Would things be different if he dated her first?

Steve steps out into the hallway. It’s quiet and no one is around after the last period, no one except for you. 

His breath gets caught in his throat.

You are here, leaning against the wall, looking down at the book in your hand. You are wearing your cheer uniform, you let your hair loose, the green scrunchie is around your wrist. The dark denim jacket is thrown over your shoulders. 

You haven’t seen him yet, you are too absorbed in the book you are reading. 

Another deja vu. 

This moment takes him back to all the times you waited for him after cheer practice. He would walk out of the locker room to find you waiting for him, sitting on the floor, reading a book or drawing in your notebook. 

The door shuts behind him and you look up, finally noticing him. 

He waits for something, he doesn’t know what but he waits to see that look in your eyes. 

The longing, the sadness, the love. 

He doesn’t. 

There’s nothing in your eyes, nothing except for disappointment because he is not the one you have been waiting for. You look over his shoulder before your eyes meet his again, you give him a tight lipped smile, the way you would give to a stranger. It hurts. 

“Hi,” he mumbles with a slight, sad smile on his face. 

“Hey,” you mumble before you look back down at the book in your hand. 

The door opens behind him and he steps to the side. Eddie and Jeff walk out, glancing at him as they step into the hallway. 

“Y/n, you didn’t have to wait for me,” Jeff jokes, putting his hand over his heart.

You giggle. 

Eddie nods at Steve before he turns away to look at you. 

Steve watches the way you greet Eddie, the way your eyes light up and a huge smile takes over your face when you look at him. He watches the way you wrap your arms around him.

“I can’t believe you didn’t skip,” you grin and squeeze his shoulder. 

Eddie rolls his eyes but he smiles at you, “I’m trying to graduate.” 

You put the book in your backpack and pick it up, throwing it over your shoulders. You hook your arm around Eddie’s and grin at him, “mhmm, you’re doing good.”

You are helping him graduate, the way you wanted to help him. Steve looks at you but you don’t spare him a second glance. Your attention is elsewhere. 

He watches you leave. He watches the way Eddie throws his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him, ruffling your hair playfully. 

Steve looks down, he swallows the lump in his throat and turns around to leave.

-

February, 14th 1985 

Steve looks down at the note in his hand, a smile is tugging at his lips. His heart skips a beat when he looks at the red flowers in his other hand. For the first time in a while, he is excited. 

It’s Valentine’s day. 

He is taking Nancy out on a date. He had planned it all weeks ago. First, he will take her out to dinner at Enzo’s and then he will take her home where he had prepared a surprise for her. 

He looks at the note she had left in his jacket this morning. He puts it back in his pocket and walks towards the cash register, greeting the old man behind it. He places the flowers and the chocolate on the counter and reaches for his wallet. 

A love song is playing on the radio, the store is decorated with pink paper hearts. 

“Going on a date?” The old man asks, smiling at Steve. 

“Yeah, I’m taking my girlfriend out to dinner.”

The doors slide open and as he hears the sound of your voice, his smile instantly falls. He can’t help but look. 

You’re not alone, of course you are with him and you look so beautiful but different. You are wearing a skirt, one that is certainly too short for this weather, the fishnet tights do nothing to protect your skin from the cold. You are wearing platform boots and a short leather coat – dark colors, dark nails, red lips, curls and bangs. You are starting to look like the female version of him. 

He wonders if your personality had changed as much as your appearance has.

“This is gonna be the best night ever.” Steve hears Eddie say. 

“I know it will be,” you giggle, “I still got the credit card my dad gave me, we can book a hotel room afterwards.”

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you, playfully. 

You disappear in the snack aisle, your voices fade away and so does the excited look on Steve’s face. 

“That’ll be $9.80.” 

It’s very clear to him that you are on a date. With Eddie. And that’s okay, right? It’s okay that you are on a date with someone else. It’s okay that you make yourself look pretty for someone else. It’s okay that you have moved on. 

He should be happy for you, right? 

He should be happy to know that you are not in pain anymore. 

But then why does it hurt so bad?

He shakes his head and looks back at the cashier, he places a ten dollar bill on the counter, he takes the flowers and the chocolate and leaves, not wanting to risk running into you.

-

Living in a small town, means running into the same people, all the time. People you don’t want to see, people you want to avoid, people you don’t like, people you wish you wouldn’t think about anymore. 

Steve had a hard time getting over you, it took him weeks to accept the fact that you and him, will never be a thing again – platonic or romantic. You are a part of his past, a part that he can never get back. So he let you go or he convinced himself that he did. 

While things may not be ideal, he feels content with the way his life is now. He is happy. He has a girlfriend, a group of rowdy kids that had become a huge part of his life, he will graduate soon and he is in love. 

He let go of the past that he kept pining after.

It’s still weird to see you and not be with you but it’s okay now. He can walk past you and not feel his heart breaking when you don’t acknowledge him anymore. He can hear your voice and not long to hear you talk to him. He can look at you and not feel himself yearn for you. 

He prefers not to see you, which has become one of his biggest challenges in the past few months. Everywhere he goes, he sees you, and every single time, you are with Eddie. Well, maybe not every single time. Sometimes you are with Heather and Chrissy or your new friend, Robin Buckley. Steve knows her from Mrs. Click’s class, she is nice but he doesn’t know much about her, except that she is in the school band and your newest friend.

You look happier than ever. Your eyes are shining with happiness every time he sees you, your skin is glowing and you seem to have a constant smile on your face, especially when you are with Eddie. 

It’s been three months ever since you had gone separate ways and you changed, a lot. Your hair is longer now, your clothes are different, your music taste has changed, you are learning how to play guitar, you write songs with Eddie and you work at the record store three times a week after school – he only knows that because Max Mayfield told him, who apparently is your number one fan now. You are her english tutor and ‘the much cooler older friend’. She loves to brag about you to the boys and to him. Steve likes her and she somehow became a little sister figure in his life but he hates the smug look on her face whenever she tells him stories about you. 

He doesn’t want to think about you, he doesn’t want to talk about you, he doesn’t want to see you. 

But it’s almost impossible to leave the house and not run into you. Whether it’s the school’s hallway, the classroom, the grocery store, the movies, some house party, the cafe downtown – he always runs into you. Tonight, it’s the diner. 

He didn’t even see you at first when he walked in. He was in a good mood all night, after a long day of studying with Nancy, he went to Benny’s Burgers to get some takeout for them. He placed his order and waited by the counter when he heard your laughter over the 70s music from the jukebox. 

Now he can’t take his eyes off of you. You are sitting in a booth with Eddie, his arm is behind you, his fingertips linger on your shoulder. You are both laughing. Your hair is a little messy, just like his. 

You are giggling, a lot. 

You must be drunk, Steve thinks. Or maybe, you are just this happy around him. 

Eddie dips the fries into the milkshake and feeds them to you which makes both of you laugh when the milkshake dripples down your chin. Steve forces himself to look away when Eddie catches it with his thumb, though he can’t keep his eyes away for too long. 

Steve wonders what the two of you are. With the way you are around each other all the time, you must be a couple by now. It looks like you are one. Steve doesn’t even notice that he is clenching his jaw and his fists when he watches how Eddie cups your cheeks and pulls you closer to kiss your cheek loudly, in the most obnoxious way. Steve can’t help but roll his eyes. 

He drums his fingers against the counter and narrows his eyes at you. You giggle at Eddie and grab his face, pulling him closer to you and try to kiss his cheek the way he kissed yours but your movements are sloppy and you end up kissing the corner of his mouth instead which for some reason, makes you both laugh harder. Now he is certain that you are both drunk or high or both. 

“Here’s your order, kid.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you and Eddie. He reaches for his wallet and turns to look at the waitress, placing the bills on the table and giving her tight lipped smile before he grabs the bag and turns around to leave without looking at you again. 

He doesn’t see or feel your eyes on him. 

-

It’s the last game of the season and Steve’s last game, altogether. He can’t believe that this will be all over soon. High school, basketball practice, games, lunch breaks with his girlfriend, studying. 

He feels anxious about his future. He decided to take the year off after he will graduate. And hopefully, he will go to college with Nancy, next fall. Deep down he knows it won’t happen, he can’t see himself going to college, he barely made it through senior year. 

He doesn’t know what will happen to him and his relationship with her when she goes off to college next year. 

He tries not to think about it too much. He tries to enjoy his remaining days at school and his last game. He bounces on his feet as he watches the cheerleaders perform. You are in the front, as always. 

“One has to be a real fucking idiot to dump someone with that ass.” 

An instant rush of anger rippels through him. Billy’s voice will never not make his blood boil. 

Billy smirks as he watches you bend down, his eyes flicker over to Eddie who surprisingly came to the game, probably just to watch you dance in your tiny cheerleader uniform. 

“She wouldn’t even look at the freak after I’d fuck her dumb.”

“Shut up, Hargrove.” Steve mumbles under his breath. 

Billy chuckles, he steps up beside him, narrowing his eyes at Steve. 

“Her taste has changed a lot,” he says, smirking. “Did you know that she listens to heavy metal now?” 

Steve scrunches his face up. He hates heavy metal. 

“She supports Munson’s shitty band and goes to concerts with him. Do you think they fuck in his shitty van?” 

Steve opens his mouth but Billy cuts him off again. 

“I bet they do. I bet she’s a little freak, that’s why she’s with him now.” 

Steve clenches his jaw, his eyes find Eddie who stands in the crowd, grinning at you. 

“That’s why she never looked happy with you, you didn’t fuck her good enough. The freak seems to do it better.” 

Maybe he is right. Steve never took care of you the way you always took care of him. You always made sure that he felt good, he never did the same for you and he feels ashamed about it. 

“I could still fuck her better though.”

“Shut the fuck up, man. She is not interested in you, she never was,” Steve snaps at him, ignoring the prying eyes of the other guys from the basketball team. 

Steve had realized that you were never interested in him when it was far too late to apologize for accusing you of things you never did. You didn’t care about Billy or any other guy but he didn’t trust you back then even though you never gave him a reason not to. He always waited for you to give him one though, he waited for you to hurt him, he waited for you to cheat on him, he waited for you to leave him for someone else, he waited for you to fail. But you never did.

You loved him, only him. You wanted him. You were good and loyal, you were an amazing girlfriend and you never deserved the things he did to you. 

He is angry at himself for how he treated you. He hates himself for how much he hurt you. He hates how he didn’t protect you from Billy, he hates how angry he got after he had touched you after you had pushed him off once, already. 

“Are you sure about that?” Billy smirks, “then why did she let me fuc–”

Steve grabs him by the collars of his shirt, he slams him against the wall. Finally, he has had enough of him. 

“She never let you do anything, you piece of shit,” Steve says, angrily. “You touched her without her permission, you made shit up about her. We both know that she would never touch you.”

Billy laughs at his words but Steve can see the anger flashing in his eyes. 

“But she did, she’s a little sl–”

Before Billy can even react, Steve throws a punch, slamming his fist into his jaw. 

“Dude!” Tommy yells. 

Some of the guys around him gasp, the others laugh. 

Billy doesn’t take long to recover, he ducks when Steve tries to throw another punch and hits him in the stomach before he throws a punch at his face. Steve stumbles back and almost falls to the ground if it wasn’t for Chase steadying him. 

“Guys, this is not the right moment!” Jason yells, holding his hands up as he tries to get in between them, “we’re supposed to go out there and fight the other team, not each oth–”

“Shut the fuck up, Carver!” Billy yells, “I’m sick of your motivation speeches.”

Jason clenches his jaw and steps back. 

Steve wipes the blood from under his nose, he breathes heavily as he stares Billy down. The guys look between them as they slowly inch towards each other, everyone tenses up, looking around to see if anyone is willing to get in between them. 

“You really wanna do this, asshole?” Billy asks, licking his lips. 

“I should’ve done that a long time ago, Hargrove.”

“Seriously?” Jason exclaims, throwing his hands up. “The game is about to start!” 

Billy walks towards Steve, he is never one to back down from a fight. He had been waiting for a reason to beat the shit out of Steve but so did Steve. He should have kicked his ass a long time ago but he always directed his anger at you, instead of the guy that tried to come in between you and him – the guy who made you uncomfortable. 

Steve feels the need to make things right, he knows that this won’t fix anything. It won’t take back all his actions but he still wants to hurt him. 

The tension is high and both Steve and Billy are glaring at each other. The guys look between them, anxiously. The music inside the gym is still playing, the cheerleaders are still dancing, unaware to the little fight that broke out behind the doors. 

Before any of them can throw any more punches, the coach walks in, taking away the chance for a fight to break out again. 

Billy glares at Steve, he wipes his chin and turns away from him but the look in his eyes tells him that they aren’t done yet. 

Steve scoffs, he is not done with him either. He tears his eyes away from him. He clenches his jaw. He feels so angry. He notices the way the others sigh in relief, the way they instantly relax when Steve and Billy back away from each other. 

When it’s time to walk out into the gym, Steve is at the very front. He forces a smile onto his face and waves at the people on the bleachers, his eyes lock with Nancy’s, they smile at each other. She doesn’t notice how tense he is, she doesn’t even notice the remains of blood under his nose or how red his knuckles are, how angry he still looks but you notice it. 

He looks at you, your eyes lock and for the first time in a while, there is no emptiness in your eyes when you look at him. You continue to clap your hands, still gripping the pompons tightly. The smile on your face begins to fade the longer you look at him. He sees the way you eye him up and down, the way you look at his knuckles and his nose that is still bleeding. He sees the way your eyes move over to Billy before you look back at him. Your brows furrow, your eyes flash with confusion and concern. It doesn’t take you long to figure out what happened. 

He doesn’t want to look at you but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. For a moment, you stare at each other. 

It feels like forever but the moment only last for a few seconds. Though it doesn’t go unnoticed by a few other people. 

Chrissy nudges your shoulder and you finally tear your eyes away from him. He ignores the feeling in his chest, he ignores the ache when you look away and smile again. He looks at you for another long second before he turns away too and looks back at the girl he loves. 

He smiles at her, he is happy that she is here. 

He is happy. 

He is. 

next chapter

-

tagging friends & mutuals only!

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can @screammunson @hellfire--cult @taintedcigs @sherrylyn628 @xxhellfiregirlxx @nemesis729

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello there! 👋🏽 If you don’t mind, I was wondering if I could make a request with Tech? With maybe a bookworm reader if that’s okay? I feel like it would be a cute dynamic! Thank you and have a good day! 🙏🙌

Bookworm

Tech x Reader

Summary- You and Tech have a moment alone on The Marauder. What better way to spend it than reading! Accompanied by Tech on his datapad, of course.

A/N- It's totally okay!!! I figured the best format for this kind of request was bullet point- but I am not very good at those. So, i compromised with this! Hope you enjoy, thanks for requesting!

Word Count- 990

Hunter, Omega, Wrecker, and Echo had all left the ship to go look for some dinner. A job you all completed recently left you with some spending money. You figured everyone deserved a real meal for once.

It left you and Tech alone in The Marauder. You could have easily went to hang out at Cid's bar, but you couldn't stand to be around her. You hated the way she poked fun at Tech's goggles.

Only you were allowed to call him 'goggles.'

The thought only temporarily distracted you from your book. You quickly resumed reading, only to realize you had to restart the whole page. This time actually process what you're reading! You thought to yourself.

Grumbling, you squeezed your eyes shut and straightened up in your seat. You happened to take a spot in the co-pilots chair. Tech always sat in the pilots.

"Something the matter?" Tech asks, not looking up from his datapad.

It was sweet, that he noticed your small movements. "Just trying to focus, I lost my place." You finally found a comfortable position, situating your book back in your hands.

"It can help to fidget with one hand, to increase your chances of focus." He informed, per usual.

You smiled up at him, he glanced up from the pad when he felt your gaze on him. He flashed a very brief smile- more of a grin, it was all you needed though.

You listened to him rant about his findings on 'focus' for a few minutes, knowing anyone else would have shut him up by now. Him talking never bored you or made you uncomfortable, despite many others complaining.

"Thank you, Tech." You simply said, returning to your book. He seemed pleased enough and went back to tinkering on his datapad.

A newfound silence came over, you read your book in peace. The story of the thieves with powers fighting the government amused you. What amused you more was the fact you had personally been on more dangerous missions, yet the book still captured you.

It was nice to imagine yourself in their place, even when you wouldn't change what you have for the word.

You'd go on a million death defying missions if it meant you were with Tech.

While you typically could put down over 50 pages in an hour, Tech interrupted you again. Not with any other intentions than to please you.

"Yes?" You responded after he called your name.

He reached in a compartment to the left of the console. A place Tech used to store his latest experiments.

He pulled out a neatly wrapped gift. It had swirls of color on the paper that wrapped it. He said nothing, just handed the rectangular item to you.

"For me?"

"That would be correct."

You tried to fight the corners of your mouth rising, but it was no use. Tech watched you violently, showing little expression.

You gently took the paper off, not wanting to make a mess of his careful work.

You slowly revealed it to be a new book, the fourth book in the series to the one you were just reading.

"Tech, I- I thought it was a limited edition! There was only a hundred made across the galaxy!" You looked in his deep brown eyes.

"Yes, it is." He confirmed.

"H-how did you get it!" You were baffled, the thought he put into your gift- and for no special occasion.

"It was not difficult. I was able to track all the shipping numbers to their respective planets, and when we had a mission on one- I located the book through its buyers." He said, nonchalantly. Like he didn't easily buy one of the most rare books you knew of.

"Why? Did I miss an anniversary?" You were slightly confused on why he gave you the gift. You hoped you weren't supposed to also have a gift prepared.

"Uh, no. You mentioned exactly 129 rotations ago that you wanted the book. I saw no problem in getting it." He remembered...

You were moved to small tears, now flowing down your cheeks.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes, Tech. Of course I am." You rose to your feet, throwing yourself on him in a big hug. He hugged you back. While he didn't completely understand your acclimation to physical affection- he didn't mind you doing as you pleased to him.

He gently patted your back, and you pulled away. "Thank you, i'm going to have to finish this book quickly now. I can't wait to read it..."

"You are welcome." He responded, you let him be and lifted yourself off of him. He grabbed his datapad and clicked away.

What you didn't know was that sometimes Tech would watch you read. In times like these, when you found yourself sitting or laying next to each other. You reading, him on his datapad.

He would study your face, taking in every expression. He would think about what you were reading- was it sad, happy, thrilling? Feelings were a trivial matter to him, but he was always thinking of ways to make you happy.

He loved it when you read, sometimes out loud to him. It was soothing to hear your voice when he worked on a project or was fixing a part on The Marauder.

The way you tapped your foot, or bounced your leg when you got to a complex part in a book. Or, when you were both laying down together and accidentally hit Tech in shock at a twist in the story. He loved every bit of it.

You turned back to your original book, now more determined than ever to finish it.

You did, however, catch Tech staring this time. You met his gaze, a wide smirk on your face. You couldn't help but giggle briefly. He gave you an odd look, but went back to his datapad. Just as you went back to your book.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! Requests are about to be open, just one more to fulfill! As always, I am open to constructive criticism.

Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[spitdrunken]

I’ve been thinking about winter king a lot… all of this is essentially an excuse to ramble about some thoughts ive had about him, so don’t think too hard about how reader/you ended up in his universe, there's no reason haha notes: manipulative behaviour, unhealthy relationship.

A person can only withstand so much time with only the company of creatures they made themselves. Winter King is no different. He hadn't noticed it at first, the fact that every word out of his subjects' mouths is predictable, and that their one personality traits was dedication. Back then, he'd been caught up in the thrill of a life without madness, too lost in the mind that could hold coherent thoughts. (The price that had been paid for that change had not been his to pay.)

But, with time, a loneliness- Well, not a loneliness. No, that is a pathetic word, that belongs with the pathetic past self of his that he's shed by now. Let's call it a boredom that settled over him. One that made him allow Candy Queen to kidnap him over and over again, despite the fact he could easily defeat her. At least around her, there was unpredictability, and a semblance of a conversation to be had. As incoherent as it was, it was close to a human conversation. An odd thing it is, for that word to pop into his mind now. She has never been human, and he has long ceased to be one.

What use is it being this charming, this handsome, when there's nobody around with enough brain cells to admire it? He'd never been popular as the Ice King, understandably so, he'll admit, but nothing has changed since. Not even now that he is the ruler of a prosperous kingdom of his own, one that he has spent countless years meticulously perfecting. It really is a pity. With the Winter Kingdom avoided by everyone except by its inhabitants, he might as well just start kissing himself at this point. By the time that thought starts to seem viable, he is lucky enough that a change does occur.

Imagine his surprise, his utter delight, when someone new wanders into his kingdom! Entirely unfamiliar with him or his story, even this world, and oh-so completely lost. It's perfect! Whatever he tells you, you'll just have to believe, with nothing else to compare it to. You're so clearly human, too. It's been forever since he last saw one up close. ...Well, an adult, at least. He can't deny the fact that the scientist inside him is curious about how in God's name you'd ended up here, but that is of lesser importance to him. He's gotten exactly what he wanted: a companion! He'll put his charms to the test, and ensure that the thought of leaving his Winter Kingdom never crosses your mind again. How could your home ever be better than his?

With the promise of trying to find you a way home, he offers you a place to stay. The world out there is dangerous, you know! But even if he had genuinely wanted to help you out, crossing dimensions is, as of now, outside the realm of his abilities. Winter King quickly comes to the conclusion that you're just plain cute. It's delightful how easily impressed you are, and it's clear that whatever world you're from, magic is not a part of it. Things that, to him, are as simple as breathing, pull a response from you.

The first time he showed his powers in front of you, creating ice by freezing the moisture in the air, and moulding it together into a chair for you to sit on, you'd responded with awe. He couldn't possibly keep himself from laughing at that! Ah, sorry, dear, he really means no harm- But why did you think he was called the Winter King, hm? He loves it, though, really. You are perhaps stroking his ego a bit too much through all of this. It makes him stand just a bit straighter, puff his chest out a bit more, and thinks: yes, taking you in really was no mistake at all.

He puts the charm on thick. Now that has the opportunity, he wants to try his best to really swoop someone off of their feet. He'll compliment your personality and appearance any chance he gets, and especially enjoys it if you are easily flustered. (Though if you aren't, a part of him would enjoy more of a challenge as well.) As soon as he knows you're embarrassed, he'd put his hands on your cheeks to help you 'cool off.' ("Ha, ha! Oh, dear, you're going to melt my hands off at this rate!)

He'll order his servants to obey your every desire. As long as it doesn't conflict with his own, that is. There's a lot of things to get used to in the Winter Kingdom, and he'll even linger around you as you get the hang out of skating around the palace. With a snap of his fingers, he'll create ridges and bumps on the floors, only to catch you as you inevitably fall. Winter King is not above some... Well, lying sounds a lot worse than it is. Twisting of the truth? In his attempts to woo you. As long as you don't find out, there'd be no harm in it.

This aspect of him becomes most obvious in the way he handles the subject of the Candy Queen. She becomes merely another actress on the stage for him to use in the process of courting you. He'll warn you, of course, that there is an utterly mad woman, a nuisance, who is completely obsessed with him. As she's constantly following him around, she'll likely find out about your presence soon, too. And, against his will, he knows her well enough at this point to know that she won't be happy, ha! You'd best stay close to him, so he can keep you safe. With the type of special relationship the two of you have, she is bound to get jealous, dear! He doesn’t mind if he were to kidnap him, it has happened before, but if she were to hurt you, oh…!

He really thinks that was a wonderful performance of this. Oh, of course there were grains of truth in there! If you'd actually gotten hurt, if you were actually taken away from him, he doesn't know what he'd do- But he knows Candy Queen's whims and shenanigans well enough to know to avoid such a thing. He will keep you safe, he promised, but what better way to heighten your opinion of him even further, than through saving you from the clutches of danger? So, yes, he will let you get kidnapped once or twice by her on purpose, knowing full and well that Candy Queen was only doing so in order to draw him out. In achieving that goal, it would always be successful. As long as he always ensures he gets you back safe and sound, where's the harm in it? When you inevitably fall for him, and you can spend a happy life together, was anything he's done truly bad?

[lunarw0rks]

do you think any of the 141 guys would be ok with a hairy girl? i don’t shave down there and this guy i was going to hook up with was grossed out by it so i’m a bit upset yk? :( if this is weird just ignore! <3 thank you!

a/n: not a weird request, anon! it's easy to be ashamed about it, i know i have before, but you have to remember that it grows for a reason! <3 don't be ashamed of body hair just because of some douche!!! what matters is that you're healthy and do what you want with your body and what naturally comes with it :) you deserve better than a prick who's grossed out by hair of all things. ☆ if it's any consolation, the cod men wouldn't be. hope my writing helps you feel better ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑ ✧˖ warning(s); hurt/comfort but horny, nsfw °.🪐⋆｡°✩ ‧₊˚ ⋅ જ⁀➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑

『 price 』

── I feel like price is quite hairy; everywhere. it's not like he has the time, or the desire to be waxed. he's old enough, that he just doesn't care anymore. beyond some trimming and cleaning up — he won't bother. now, with a partner? absolutely loves it. it's something for him to brush his fingertips over when he cuddles you. and it just proves you're a natural woman, which is all he can ask for.

☆ if you even think about being insecure, he'll shut you up, one way or another. first, it's a gentle scold, reassurance that he loves the way you are. something like body hair isn't going to get in the way of that.

☆ if it ever did, you have his full permission to ring his neck <33 if being verbal doesn't work... there are other forms of worship he'd inflict on you ;)

☆ you catch him in a good mood; he'll eat you out until you're convinced, no matter the amount of hair. a bad mood; he'll have you bent over until the doubt is fucked out of you. it's never bothered him before, there isn't a chance it's going to when you're screaming his name.

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

『 simon 』

── at first, you thought you had soiled the intimate mood and his completely. like it was a point of no return, but it wasn't. simon was just shocked, and he couldn't help his natural scowl. for him to even be close enough to be intimate with someone, is a massive milestone. for him to notice your body hair? not a chance. he won't mention it unless you do, and in this case you did.

☆ you'd made a comment about your hair, how you hadn't shaved. "is that really what you think of me?" his words came out a bit firmer than he wanted them to. he didn't mean it that way, but he couldn't help his disbelief. he was with you for a reason, why the hell would some body hair be a concern?

☆ before you can respond again, even think about looking more upset. he's all over you once more — but he's taking his time. not that he's one to rush often, but this time he knows he should take this slow. simon touches you like you'll shatter, his roaming mouth even gentler.

☆ truly a night to remember, but not because of its lust. that would be the second thing on a list of fond memories. his tenderness would be; the hardened lieutenant reassuring you until you have no choice but to believe him.

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

『 soap 』

── though he's well groomed, and prides himself on the hair all over his body, his significant other being hairy doesn't bother him a bit. finds it incredibly attractive, someone with small features that make them, them. you would be the you he loved so much if you suddenly changed yourself for him. soap has a hard enough time believing that he deserves you in the first place, so your insecurity about something so small has him dumbfounded.

☆ shocking him into silence? not an easy task, but you did it. and now... he has to make his best effort to show you how little the hair bothers him. soap could drone on and on with verbal praises, but that only does so much. what better convincing, than raw actions?

☆ his silence is almost eerie; the cloud of desire and longing that fogged his eyes. you were his, no matter how you looked, and he was going to make sure you knew it once the night was over.

☆ absolutely ruins you, like he had done many times before, only tonight is especially messy. pulls out all the stops — prolonged foreplay, hands guiding you, etc... forces you to keep eye contact with him, and on your body as he pleasures you. and still, he doesn't say anything except praises for your natural self, right into your ear. "fuck, look at you, bonnie. good f' me, aren't ye, pretty girl?"

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

『 gaz 』

── it was a blissful moment until you expressed discomfort towards him dealing with your hair. he's irritated, but not an ounce of it is towards you. who made you feel that way? how could someone like you be insecure? did he need to do more to ensure you knew he paid little mind to something so trivial? he was laser-focused now, and it wasn't going to break. you'd never seen him like this, it was daunting, almost.

☆ he made it clear, that this wasn't a burden of his. "don't ever say that again, sweetheart. don't even think it." gaz whispers into your ear, hand running over your frame from top to bottom. "look at yourself, so goddamn gorgeous, hair or not — you don't see it. I'm gonna make sure you do, no exceptions." though his expression was stern, his speech couldn't have been more tender.

☆ you won't even lift a finger, unless it's to hold onto him for dear life, to paint a picture. yes, he's being tender and reassuring, but that doesn't mean gaz rearranging your guts. his attention to every detail on your body, his whispers of praise, his skilled mouth kissing every inch of your flesh.

☆ you'll think twice before you doubt yourself again. and he's a damn persistent man — so good luck to you if you do ;)

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

[blingblong55]

Funny Feeling -141

Photo credit: @ave661 (left)

A/N: König will be done in the next post, I'm sorry I couldn't add him to this one..

Not a request but my own need for this:

141&Konig find out (same time as you do) that you have PCOS. You of course are sad because of the fertility issues and all the problems this condition brings, but not to worry, your partner is here to help and uplift you.  ---- F!Reader, reader with pcos, fluff, angst, comfort, established!realtionship, tw: self worth issues ----

A/N: I needed comfort and well I figured you might too so.. here's this

"All the signs point to yes, the way you have given me a description and the tests we ran," the doctor breaks the news. "This can't be right? Maybe there was a mistake?" Your hand holding onto your husband's hand. "It's PCOS, ma'am." You shook your head. You read every article, and watched every video, and even though you said your signs must be for something else, here you are. 

"What does this mean for her?" your husband asks, knowing you are just trying to find yourself in the void you've been pushed to. "Well it can mean a lot of things, for example..." the doctor's voice fades. Your eyes are on that desk, the lighting of the room only making this news worse. Tears form in your eyes. What does this mean? No family, no picket fence, and Sunday walk with your kids. 

You wanted to cry and argue against the results but it's all there in that paper. Your heart breaks and you grip his hand again. 

The ride home was silent, he knew it was best this way. You thought of it all, the giggles, the drawings on the wall, the stained clothes, and the staying up late that you'll never get to do. 

"We're home," he mentions softly, his hand on yours again as you are lost in thought. All you can do is get out of the car and walk inside. You know it's wrong to push him away but it's the only thing that feels right. Your emotions are all over the place. You feel more disgusted with yourself. The hair that's growing on the chin and chest, the stupid periods you've missed, the weight gain, the way you look around and see everyone building your families and you, sitting in a bathroom, undressed as you look at the weight and wished you were 'better'. 

John Price: 

The first thing he does is leave you alone. He doesn't know how it feels, however, he knows that if he were in your place, he'd too need some time alone. He knows one thing, if the places were changed, you'd be doing something to make him cheer up, anything. "My love, I'm going out for a few minutes, you need me, I'm a phone call away." he kisses your forehead but when you refuse to let him kiss your soft skin, he sighs and walks away. 

They say, to be loved is to be known and he knows you all too well. So, he goes to every store in town, looks for that one book you've been looking for, and then, there it is, the flowers, the takeout and the one blanket you eyed for a little too long when shopping with him. 

Meanwhile, in the small bathroom, you lie down. Eyes on the ceiling as you feel yourself cry once more. Stupid, stupid, stupid body of mine. Why must this be your place? Why can't you give him the one chance at happiness? One kid at least, two at best and a stupid family dog that could be running around during family walks. 

"I hate you-"

"Love? Hey, open up, I'm home," he says as he knocks on the door of the bathroom. "Go away-"

"Not happening, open up my sweetheart, let me show you everything will be alright," his voice was so soft and gentle. 

Once he finally has you in his arms, guiding you to the cosy living room, he covers your eyes and smiles. "We'll talk about this all later but for now, let me release some stress."

"But-"

"Love, no. I'm not letting you think that just because of this condition you are less than any other woman out there. You are so much more than just someone who can give me children. You are this incredibly funny, smart and seriously kind person. You're my girl, nothing changes that, kids or not. Now, let's eat, watch some film I found and then, we'll stay up and talk about today." 

Simon Riley: 

You've been in the bedroom, looking at the pictures your siblings have sent you of your nieces and/or nephews. Their little giggles, the silly little things they do when they get annoyed when not solving a small puzzle. Tears form in your eyes. "Lovie, I got the bath- Lovie?" His voice was softer than ever. He recognizes that frown and the only thing he can do is walk to you, wrap his arms around you and give you a tight hug. His lips meet your forehead. "I feel broken like there is something very wrong with me," you confess as small tears fall. "You're not broken, lovie," he whispers. 

"Well, it feels like I am, everything is wrong with me, I feel disgusted with myself."

He shakes his head, "If there is one thing I've learned is that even if you feel like you are completely worthless, it's a temporary thing. At the end of the day, you are much more than being the one I have a family with. So what if we can't have sleepless nights? You're not here to just be a mother. And, if we want kids, I'm sure we'll adopt or maybe we can search for other stuff- the point here is, you are much more than serving as some womb for our kids." 

He kisses picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Now, let me take care of you, okay? You do it for me when I come home and it's time you get treated the same." 

One thing with him is that he shows you his true love, admiration and excitement with acts of service. He won't directly tell you all his emotions but his actions do tell you all you need to know. As you lay back on the tub, he grabs your hand and kisses it. "Everything will be alright, I promise you that much," he smiles and slowly scrubs your body, the feeling of the bubbles and warm water soothe you. 

Kyle Garrick: 

It's bizarre. The rain pitter-pattered against the windowpane as you sat curled up on the sofa, your thoughts a whirlwind of worry and frustration. Today had been one of those days where everything seemed to spiral out of control. To be diagnosed with this condition had hit you out of a tidal wave, and left you feeling overwhelmed and uncertain about the future. Why must you be this way?

Kyle, your ever-supportive husband, noticed the heaviness in your demeanour the moment he stepped through the door. Droplets of rain clung to his jacket as he approached you, concern etched on his features. "Y/N, love, are you alright?" he asked softly, kneeling beside you. He knows you, that weak smile falters almost immediately. "It's a lot to take in," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. Kyle wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace. "I know, darling. But you're not alone in this. We'll figure it out together, okay?" he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

You nod, feeling the weight of his words anchor to the present moment. You lean into his warmth, finding solace in the familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the rain outside. 

For the rest of the evening, Kyle made it his mission to care for you in every way he could. He brewed your favourite herbal tea and fetched the cosy blanket to wrap you in it. He listened attentively as you, for so long, poured out your fears and frustrations. In between doubt, he offered words of reassurance. 

As the evening goes on, he notices how the weight of your diagnosis left you with a burden. He can see the sadness etched into your features, the worry lines creasing your forehead as you sit and stare into the distance. "Love, what's on your mind?" he asks softly, reaching out to gently squeeze your hand. 

You let out a heavy sigh, and your shoulders slump as you face him, "I just can't shake this feeling off, babe," you admit to him once more, that soft voice of yours tinged with sadness. "It's a lie no matter what I do, this stupid condition will always be a part of me." Tears well in your eyes. 

His heart aches at the sound of defeat in your voice, but he refuses to let your despair consume not just you but him as well. With a tender smile, he cups your cheek, brushing away the stray tear with his thumb. How can you tell someone you want to listen to and understand them? How can you show love for them when they can't even accept love for something they can't control?  

"Y/N, listen to me," he says firmly, his gaze unwavering. "This condition doesn't define you. It's just one part of who you are, love. And it certainly isn't your fault." 

You blink back tears, your throat tightening with emotion. "But it feels like...like I'm broken," your voice barely above a whisper. He shook his head, his expression softening with understanding. "You aren't broken, Y/N. Not even in the slightest," he insists, his voice laced with conviction. "You are this strong, beautiful and capable of so much more than you realise. And I will be here every step of the way, holding your hand through it all."

With that, Gaz pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if to shield you from pain. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, pouring all his love and reassurance into the simple gesture. At that moment, surrounded by his unwavering love and support, you felt a flicker of hope ignite in you. 

In the days that followed, he was your constant support and encouragement. He researched PCOS tirelessly, eager to understand your condition better and help you navigate the complexities. He accompanies you to doctor's appointments, holding your hand through every moment. He also made small challenges to not just your lifestyle but his. New healthier habits, medication, self-help books and moments of joy filled your life with him. 

John "Soap" MacTavish:

The soft glow of the bedside lamp, once you reach the bedroom, casts a warm ambience in the room as you sit on the edge of the bed, your mind clouded with worry and uncertainty. You stare blankly at the floor, thoughts consumed by this condition. It felt as though the world had turned upside down in an instant, leaving you lost and vulnerable. 

Johnny, your steadfast husband, watched you with concern from his place beside you. He could see the turmoil written in your eyes. Without a word, he reached out and gently took your hand in his, offering a silent anchor in this storm. 

You squeeze his hand tightly, seeking solace in the warmth of his touch. "What am I now, Johnny?" you confess. "It's like... everything I thought I knew about myself has been thrown into question."

Johnny's heart ached, he can't let you suffer alone, not like this. "You don't have to deal with this alone, bonnie," he kisses the top of your hand. "We're in this together, remember?"

You nod, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I know, but... it's just so hard," your voice trembles with emotion. It's not love if they leave during something so hard, they say. It's unconditional love when they stay, I say. 

"I know it's hard, bonnie. But I also know how strong you are," he gives you a small smile. "You are much more than this diagnosis." It's beautiful, how in the middle of this heartache, he still gives you this funny yet warm feeling. "And I will be here every step of the way, supporting you, comforting you, and loving you with all that I am," he promises.  -----

A/N: If you have this, I'm always here, it's okay to sometimes rely on others. This isn't something to be ashamed about<3

Tags:

@shadofireshinobi @kit-kats06 @joyfulmarvelofavengers @luvecarson @hilmiponken @asgardswinter @141swhore @miscfandomwrites @itstrapbunnybubbles @rockcollector3000 @certifiedcodbabygirl @eicee @liyanahelena @theineandonlyidiot @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @froggy-anon @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @istillcantfindausername @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @undercover-smutlover @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @enarien @simonssweetgirl @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @llelannie @macnches2 @anonymuslydumb @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @nyx_flower @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @thegreyjoyed @mychemicalimalance @marshiely @tuihiatus

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

feral hotch friday!!

ok ok so the song shameless by Camila Cabello the part where it says “there’s just inches in between us i want you to give in”

Imagine Hotch and reader having sm tension like everywhere and there’s like those looks and the slight touches and then one day in hotches office he’s about to walk out she’s walking in and there’s barley space between them and then he’s like fuck it and they kiss 🌚🌚

Tension

Warning: Brief hurt/comfort, pining, making out in Aaron's office 🤭, fluff, slightly suggestive at the end, I think that's all!

Word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

A/n: This feels feral in some soft of sfw way???? And I love it tbh 🤭. This one WAS proofread for a change! This one is sfw<3. Gave this more plot than I meant to but that's okay 🤭. Let me know what you think 🫶.

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @cr1minalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @canuck-eh @luvehotch @callm3c0nfus3d

Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11

Let me know if you want to be added to my tags 🫶

Months had gone by with this tension between the two of you. Something was there and it only grew with time. It was always lingering looks and touches that weren't entirely innocent. They lasted a little longer than either of you would deem appropriate.

You were attracted to Hotch as soon as you met him. He was a handsome man and not only was he good looking but he was smart and that just made him even better. The problem was that he is forbidden. He is a forbidden fruit to you just as you are to him and you both know it. It's why it never went any further than those long looks and little touches in the last six months, though they did become more frequent.

The first time it happened you had been working with the BAU for about a month. It was just his hand bumping yours when he reached for a file you had your hand resting on. It was a case everyone had been working hard on and yet no one could figure out who the unsub was. The team all sitting at a table going through stacks of files and when Hotch reached for the file accidentally touching your hand in the process, he didn't move it right away. You both looked at where your hands were touching and then at each other but after a moment he moved his away, file forgotten. You were both exhausted and neither of you really thought too much of it at the time. Even if you both felt warm and fluttery inside, the other didn't know it.

The second time something of this nature happened was when you were wearing something a little different from your regular work attire. It had been a few months since you'd joined the team.

You, JJ, Penelope, and Emily had all been out for a girl's night when another case came up. You didn't have time to change before coming in so you were stuck wearing a skirt that was a little on the shorter side and a top that showed a little more until you had the chance to get something more appropriate out of your go-bag. All Hotch had ever seen you in was your work clothes so to say he was a bit surprised by your more revealing outfit would be an understatement. He couldn't keep his eyes off of you and he knew you were aware but again neither of you mentioned anything.

Of course you both had other, smaller moments between but these were the ones that were most memorable for the two of you.

The third time was when you sat next to each other on the jet. This time it was after a case had ended poorly. Everyone felt very low. You had been on the team for five months now and the job finally started to crack you a little.

You were sitting in the back alone. It was a more personal case for you. It hit you a little harder than most of the team and Hotch could see that. He didn't know why it did, he wasn't even sure if you knew why it hurt you more. Maybe it was just really dark and it had finally taken a toll on you. Whatever it was, he wanted to be there for you. He wanted to offer you comfort even if you two weren't very close.

In truth, Hotch tried to avoid you sometimes. He didn't want to let his feelings and emotions win. Not when it could drastically change your professional relationship or put one or both of you in a difficult position regarding your jobs.

But seeing you alone and hurting was something he wouldn't let you go through. Maybe he couldn't stop the hurt you felt but he could keep you from going through it alone. So he pushed his feelings aside and sat next to you.

In all five months of being on the team not once had the two of you ever sat beside each other on the plane. Not a single time. Other places where he wouldn't be next to you quite as long? Yes. But never on the jet where it would be much longer and closer. So when he did, it shocked you. You looked up at him and he could see the tears in your eyes. He could see how your shoulders slumped and how defeated you looked. He had never seen you look this way and it broke his heart to see it now.

As soon as he put his hand on your shoulder you melted into his side and he held you close. It was a little awkward but it was still comforting. It was awkward because you two hardly ever spoke unless it was work related and the only touches either of you had ever shared were hands bumping or his resting on your lower back when he was moving around you or ushering you somewhere.

So feeling a bit odd the first time he completely embraced you was understandable. Especially when he hardly ever embraced anyone on his team. He likes you and he has you so close. He's holding you the way he's wanted to since the moment he met you, not with the circumstances he wished for but holding you and comforting you nonetheless. He would kiss you if he thought it could help but this is far from the right time or place for that. You don't need his lips right now. You just need his arms around you and that's what he'll give you.

From there the touches only continued to grow. To linger more and more. Happening more often. As would the looks. Everything between you two was tense but also...a sort of love story. Someone you want but can't have. Someone you need but is forbidden to you. It's not fair. There is clearly something there. It's clear to most but surprisingly no one has commented on it.

Hotch made it a point to leave the office a little earlier more often because he knew it meant running into you on the way to his car. Normally he would be there so late that everyone else was gone before he left. He tried to time his departure from his office just right so he would get to walk with you as you left. When you walked to your separate cars he would watch you for a moment before finally leaving.

You wouldn't say it was a routine for him to walk you to your car because it wasn't every single day. More like once or twice a week when there wasn't a case. And technically he didn't walk you to your car but rather walked beside you until you stopped at yours and he kept walking until he reached his. You always waved goodbye to him once you got to your car though. It always made him smile.

Or the number of times he brought you your favourite coffee. He would make sure to hand it to you instead of setting it down next to you. This way his fingers were bound to brush against yours as he transferred the cup to your hands from his. The way you always smiled at him and looked into his eyes as you thanked him. It brightened you up and in turn it did the same to him. He would always return your warm smile with one of his own. Of course watching you enjoy your first sip before telling you to have a good day and leaving to busy himself in his office.

He always did it during cases because it helped you relax when you were stressed. Knowing he was there and thinking of you. It may have eased the tension from the case but it only added to the weird little thing you two had going.

Today you had to drop something off with Hotch before heading out for the day. When you got to his office door you knocked before walking right in and to your surprise, Aaron was trying to walk out. You nearly collided with each other. Aaron gently gripped your arms to steady you after you had stumbled slightly.

Your faces so close together. Closer than they ever had been. Even when he held you on the jet your face wasn't this close to his. You could feel his breath fanning across your face and he could feel yours.

"Hotch! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-"

You start to explain and apologise to him but before you can finish getting your words out you feel his warm chapped lips pressing against yours. For the first few seconds it is timid but once you realise what is happening and you are able to find your footing again, you kiss him back. It quickly fills with passion. You can feel the need and desperation as you both move your lips together. When he swipes his tongue across your lip and you allow him in you can feel the desire grow more and more.

The kiss only builds. Everything you and Aaron have been pushing down for months now finally coming to the surface. Your hands tangle in each other's hair as you both try to deepen it. One of his hands reaches around to your lower back and presses you against him more firmly before breaking the kiss. You both needed the break to breathe. All either of you can hear is the panting coming from each other.

He leans in and kisses you briefly before parting again and pressing his forehead to yours. Both of you are still trying to catch your breath. When he speaks you can feel the warmth of his quicker breaths against your lips and it makes you tingle.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that, y/n?" Another chaste kiss to your lips.

"No. But if it's as long as I've wanted you to then it's since we first met." He chuckles a little and kisses your cheek and then forehead. "That sounds about right."

"I wish you had done it sooner." You smile at him and he grins.

"Well, you have me now. Maybe we should get out of the office and see what else we've been missing out on?" He raises his eyebrows and smirks slightly. He still has you pressed against him. "Let's not waste another second."

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Wearing Baggy Clothes Around SKZ {Chubby Babe Edition}♡

♡ I was asked to explore how these cuties might feel about having a girlfriend who wears baggy clothes 24/7 because it makes her comfy, not because she's insecure. So let's get into it... ♡

Pairing: ot8!boyfriend!skz x chubby!fem!reader

Genre: fluffy fluff ♡

♡ Bang Chan ♡

Your choice to wear baggy clothing isn't something he's ever given a second thought to

Duh, he thinks you have a beautiful body but it's 100% your choice if you want to show it off or not

It's actually really nice having a girlfriend who has the same fashion sense as him because he doesn't feel pressured to dress more revealing either

Whenever companies offer to send him free stuff he makes sure he asks for a size that works for both of you that way you have a few items that you can share/wear when you miss each other

♡ Hyunjin ♡

Being fashionable to him has never translated to having to wear tighter clothes so he still finds what you wear to be quite cute

When he goes to special events he likes to take you with him but he'll never get upset with you if you choose not to wear what's "in" at the moment

He puts a lot of effort into helping you pick out fashion week worthy outfits that keep you looking as gorgeous as you do without compromising comfort

If anyone ever says anything rude to you about it they're catching some major side eye from him coupled with some colorful language

♡ Changbin ♡

This is it. Dwaekki's chance to talk you into wearing matching gym clothes even when you aren't even kinda sorta heading to the gym that day

When I say matching, I mean matching. Whatever he has, you have the women's version of and it will be worn when you're together. I don't make the rules here

If you ever decide to change your mind about how you want to dress he'll support you 100% in rocking something tighter/more revealing

But he'll never pressure you into doing anything you don't want to do. The most important thing to him is that you're happy, whatever that looks like for you

♡ Lee Know ♡

Outfits that have too much going on agitate him when it comes to what his stylists put on him so he understands completely why you wouldn't want to deal with that

He pretends that he doesn't want to be touched around other people but he really likes cuddles and your clothes make cuddling better for him

Every time Soonie, Doongi, or Dori make biscuits on the dangling fabric of your clothing he thinks it's super adorable. Best cat step-mom ever

Has a habit of always rolling your sleeves/pants/etc up for you when you're about to do something that might be messy so that they fit snugly in the right places

♡ Felix ♡

At first, he asks a lot of questions to make sure that you aren't doing this because you're insecure about your body

It's not done to imply that you should be. He just wants to know if you are so that he can remind you more often that you're beautiful and that anyone who says otherwise can bite you

After that though, he lets it go and starts to do things like slipping into your hoodie with you even though there's no way he's getting his head out of the other end

Ultimately, he encourages you to go even bigger because how can he be properly attached to you at the hip if there isn't room for two all the time?

♡ Han ♡

This is absolutely going to turn into a lengthy conversation about how a lot of women in the old school hip hop scene chose to dress this way too

He's bound to get sidetracked talking about certain artists who wore things he thinks you'd look cute in. Some of it might be hideous. Just nod and smile

It's cool because he gets to be as physically affectionate as he wants to be with you in public without worrying that he'll make a wrong move and something slips out

The day will never come when it isn't adorable to him that you can curl up in your clothes like a lil cat. Just this cozy, warm ball of cuteness

♡ I.N ♡

It's in his spirit to take advantage of the fact that baggier clothes make you easier to grab

Meaning, if you try to run away when he's inevitably doing something to get on your nerves he'll catch you immediately and you'll be trapped with him

This isn't a bad thing because, even when he's torturing you, it's impossible not to see how much he cares about you

The other guys tend to tease him about how smitten he is with you and how cool he thinks you are but that'll never stop him from acting that way

♡ Seungmin ♡

Your face is what he spends most of his time staring at anyway so it's no big deal that you don't wear revealing clothing

It's kind of a good thing that you don't because he can be a real brat when other guys are staring at you and you aren't sure how long he can resist the urge to poke their eyes out

Of course, he can get over that jealousy so that you feel supported in switching it up sometimes

Though he will playfully tease you about being his "other girlfriend" when you switch back and forth because being a menace comes with the territory