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fortuositywritings · 3 years

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Tattoo Heart

Summary: Tony and you make a dumb drunk decision. He gives you a tattoo.

“Um, what the hell, Tony! You said it wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s not! It’s well-proportioned. Really it’s the best heart I’ve ever drawn. I don’t know why you’re so upset. It could have been worse.”

“The heart isn’t the problem. You tattooed Wanda’s name on it!”

“Yeah, I can see why you’re mad.”

You poked your sore arm. Out of all places, he had to tattoo it on your arm above your elbow where everyone could see. Talk about bad placement.

You pout, “How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Baseball tee’s could make a comeback. You’ll be a trendsetter,” he suggests, not helping at all.

You glare at him. “You’re paying for it to be removed.”

“I expected no less,” he concedes. You’re still touching the tender spot, frowning. He stops you. “Poking it is not going to make it go away.”

“Fuck! I’m never getting drunk with you again,” you vow.

“You say that now, but come Friday night, whiteclaw in hand, you’ll have no recollection of this ever happening.”

“Getting a tattoo with your crush’s name on it is kind of hard to forget, Tony,” you spit out. He wears a sheepish smile. Speaking of the party on Friday, “Shit!”

“What?” Tony asks, clearly not processing the situation you’re in as fast as you are.

“Wanda’s gonna be there,” you remember.

“Well, yeah. It’s Pietro’s birthday party and they’re twins so,” he comments sarcastically.

“It’s a pool party. How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Just don’t get in the pool. Or you know what, just don’t go. Say you got sick,” Tony suggests.

“I can’t do that. She expects me to be there and I don’t want to let her down on her birthday,” you explain. Wanda had personally invited you to her party, saying you were going to be her partner for beer pong.

“Fine. Don’t worry about it too much. We have all week to figure something out,” he reasons. You guess he’s right. No use in stressing too much.

Friday afternoon comes too fast.

You’re stressing as you look at yourself in the mirror. You look ridiculous.

“You’re literally a genius and this was the best you could come up with?” you complain. You already feel yourself sweating. You hadn’t thought of what to wear. You only had your one piece bathing suit. Tony told you he had something and you trusted him. What he brought you, a long sleeve rashguard to wear over your bathing suit.

“Makeup was just going to wash off. We couldn’t chance it. This way, you can get in the pool,” he says.

“I look like I’m going surfing, not a pool party,” you huff.

“You look fine. If anyone asks, you burn easily. Now let’s go. Your girlfriend is waiting on you,” he rushes you along, grabbing your stuff for you. You throw on some shorts and slip on some sandals.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” you mumble, blushing as he pushes you out the door.

“Oh, I know. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if she was.” He closes the door.

Pietro opens the door for you and Tony. You both hug him and congratulate him on another year of being on this earth or as Tony puts it, “Congrats on being one year closer to death!”

Technically, their birthday is tomorrow but they always have a birthday dinner with their parents, so they celebrate with their friends either the day before or after. You and Tony hand Pietro your present for him.

“Just don’t open it in front of your parents,” you warn. He decides to unwrap it right then. You roll your eyes at his impatience to wait until tomorrow. To his satisfaction it’s running shoes with a bottle of alcohol in each shoe. He laughs, thanking you for his present. He notices you looking around, searching for a certain somebody. He already knows who you’re looking for.

“She’s in the kitchen,” he tells you, a smirk appearing on his face when you blush at being so obvious. You thank him and go find Wanda.

As Pietro said, she is in the kitchen fixing some appetizers to bring outside. What you weren’t prepared for was her already in her bikini, like she’s ready to jump into the pool. Her two piece bathing suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination but you’re quite the daydreamer it seems. You’re snapped out of your trance by Wanda clearing her throat.

She wears a smirk much like her brother’s and you splutter an embarrassed, “H-hi! Happy Birthday. You, uh, you look good. Great! You look ready for the pool.”

She smiles, amused by your awkwardness. “Thank you. You look ready for the beach.”

You blush. “Yeah, I burn easily,” you lie and quickly move on, handing her the present you got her. “Here.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she says, but you shake your head. “Of course I did. It’s your birthday tomorrow. You can open it now if you want. Your brother did.”

“Unlike my brother, I can wait. Let me go put it in my room. I’ll be right back. Wait here,” she requests. You nod and she leaves with her present. You respectfully turn your gaze to the appetizers, not wanting to ogle her backside.

“Cowabunga, dude! What the hell are you wearing?”

“No way. I almost wore the same thing. Good thing I didn’t or that would be embarrassing.”

You roll your eyes, turning around to see Sam and Rhodey, both clearly amused by their own jokes. You give them an unimpressed look and they laugh harder.

“Haha. So very funny,” you deadpan.

“Seriously, Y/N, why are you wearing that? It’s like a thousand degrees,” Rhodey asks.

“Maybe I’m insecure and you guys laughing just makes me feel worse? Maybe thought of that?” you retort, but neither buy it. They look at each other and start laughing.

“Insecure, my ass. You almost give Tony Stark a run for his money in the size of ego,” Sam says between laughs. You just roll your eyes.

Wanda returns to find the guys pressing you about the long sleeves.

“Hey, Wanda. I think you might have given Johnny Kapahala the wrong address. She’s gonna be late for the competition,” Sam jokes and you hate that you get the joke. Wanda doesn’t and looks adorably confused. All she knows is they’re referring to you so she looks at you for an explanation but you ignore her in order to throw your own remark.

“At least Johnny wasn’t afraid to swim at the beach,” you bite, making Rhodey and Wanda laugh and Sam take offense.

“There are sharks!” Sam defends himself, making you all laugh.

The three of you help Wanda bring out the appetizers to the backyard. They’ve got a table and a bunch of chairs laid around. Wanda asks if you’d like a drink and goes to fetch one for the two of you while you greet other friends.

“You didn’t want one?” You ask her when she returns with only one drink. “If we’re going to be beer pong partners, you can’t leave me drinking alone.”

She giggles and takes a swig from your drink. “Happy?” She asks when she returns the drink to you and smirks upon seeing the slight blush on your cheeks.

You get a few more remarks about the rashguard but with a few drinks in everyone’s system, the pool is more enticing than poking fun at you. You didn’t plan to get in the pool but with a simple “come on” from Wanda, you’re cannonball jumping into the deep end.

Once it’s dark, you all begin to vacate the pool in order to play games. You and Wanda play two games of beer pong seeing as neither of you are very good and you think you’ll surely be sick if you play another round.

You eat, you dance, you sit around and talk to your friends, and Wanda is with you the whole time. It’s midnight and you’re right beside her as everyone sings for her and Pietro. She hands you the first slice of cake, which you eat standing up just to stay next to her as she cuts a piece for everyone.

It’s nearing 2am as people begin to leave. Wanda and Pietro make sure everyone is getting home safely, either taking a LIFT or having a designated driver. You and Tony stay later to help the twins clean up, which they greatly appreciate.

Almost an hour later, the house looks as if there hadn’t been a party. You and Tony wish them happy birthday once more before he pulls out his phone to call an Uber. The twins insist you two stay, that it is way too late and they’d feel better if you do.

Tony wiggles his eyebrows discreetly at you when Wanda invites you to sleep in her room. You spare him a warning glance before following Wanda to her room. She offers you some pajamas and hands you a long sleeved tshirt like you ask. You excuse her questioning glance saying you get cold at night.

You change in the bathroom. When you return, you find Wanda also in her pajamas sitting on her bed with the present you gave her earlier in her hand.

“You want to open that now?” You ask, amused at her eagerness to open it.

“I mean it is my birthday now,” she reasons. You nod, closing the door and going to sit next to her. “Or is this one of those ‘open when you’re alone’ presents?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What kind of presents are those?”

“One of those romantic ones like in the movies that show that you’ve always loved me or something,” she replies. Your palms feel sweaty all of a sudden with the way she stares at you. She reads the nervousness on your face and takes pity, continuing, “Or a vibrator.”

You burst in giggles. “Damn it. How’d you know?” you joke.

It’s not a vibrator, obviously. You got her two necklaces, one gold with her name and the other sterling silver with her initials.

“I was going to just get you the gold one but then I thought maybe you wanted one to match all those rings you wear so, that’s why there are two,” you explain.

She puts the box aside and throws her arms around you, pulling you flush into her. “Thank you. I love them.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I could totally return those and get you a vibrator if that's what you want,” you laugh. She pulls back immediately, a frown on her face.

“No, they already have my name,” she protests, pulling a chuckle from you. She hands you the golden one that says ‘Wanda’ and asks, “Will you put this one on me?”

At your nod, she twists around, turning her back to you and sweeping her hair up. You struggle with the clasp a little due to your nervousness, but you get it. Had you paid closer attention, you would have noticed how Wanda shivered at your touch.

She turns back around and you admire her with your gift around her neck. “It looks great on you.”

She leans toward you again and you assume it’s to give you another hug, which you wouldn’t mind one bit, but she doesn’t move her head to the side the way one does to hug someone. Her nose bumps into yours and you realize she’s going to kiss you.

For some damn reason you pull away before her lips reach yours. She looks embarrassed and begins to apologize, “Sorry, I misread that. I thought with the present and the way you’ve been looking at me all day, shit.”

“No, you didn’t misread anything,” you reassure her. She relaxes. “Can we try that again? I was just nervous, but I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wait.” You get up and make a show of shaking off the nerves and pumping yourself up before you sit back down. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

She giggles, grabbing your face and pulling you into her, kissing the life out of you. She moves to lie back on the bed and you follow her lead. You’re kissing and it’s getting hot and she tugs on your shirt. You remove it without a second thought. You begin kissing down her neck pulling sweet noises when you leave a love bite. She gasps and grips your arm, right above your elbow.

You flinch in pain. The sudden intake of breath tips her off and she pulls her hand away. She asks worriedly, “Are you okay?”

You remember the tattoo and the fact that it’s not so hidden right now. You start to panic. “Yep, why? Are you okay?”

She narrows her eyes in suspicion, but you kiss her with the intention to make her forget. A minute later, she does it again, grabbing right on that spot. You try not to, but she hears the small groan and she pulls away. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” you lie.

“Then why do you flinch every time I grab your arm?” She moves to grab your arm again to prove a point but you move it away.

“Nothing’s wrong with my arm,” you deny. She sits up and reaches for your arm. Once more you pull out of reach.

“Y/N, let me see your arm,” she demands.

“Okay.” You try to save yourself from some of the embarrassment by explaining, “But before you look, just know I did it on a drunken dare and I didn’t know until the day after what Tony actually wrote.”

That piques her curiosity and she shuffled around you to take a look at your arm. You can’t watch, so you hide your face behind the palm of your other hand. You expect her to either laugh at you or get upset, but moments pass and you don’t hear anything.

You get the nerve to look over your shoulder at Wanda. She looks indecisive about what she wants to say, but she doesn’t look mad. Finally, she says, “I guess I don’t have to ask if you like me or not.”

You groan in embarrassment, hiding your face again. She laughs and pulls you into her as she lies back down. “Don’t laugh. It’s embarrassing enough getting your crush’s name tattooed on you. I don’t need her to actually make fun of me.”

“Aww, you have a crush on me?” she coos.

You pull away, giving her a deadpan look. “No, I get girls’ names tattooed on me all the time.”

“Having your crush’s name tattooed is embarrassing,” she agrees.

You narrow your eyes, thinking she's just making fun of you now and that was the last thing you need but she continues, “So how about we say it’s your girlfriend’s name?”

Your eyes widen. Wanda bites her lip nervously, waiting for your answer, and that’s how you know she’s serious. You blush, “That would be less embarrassing.”

“I think so too. So what do you say?” She asks, wanting a clear answer.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you answer.

She smiles and kisses you. You can’t help the giddy laughter that comes after.

“You know, he didn't do too bad. It’s pretty well-proportioned.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you

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seijorhi · 3 years

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Choke.

another soulmate au nobody asked for :)

Akaashi Keiji x female reader x Bokuto Koutarou

TW dub-con, implied future non-con

It wasn’t a good day to begin with.

You’re late, rushing through the busy campus hallways to make it to an exam that quite frankly you’re at least 70% sure you’re going to fail, mostly because instead of cramming last night you’d been… otherwise occupied with your boyfriend.

And you really, really just want this whole thing to just be over with already.

With your nose stuck in your textbook, frantically pouring over your notes right up until the very last second, it’s hardly a surprise that you don’t see the two of them rushing down the hallway in the opposite direction until you’re quite literally colliding with the taller of the pair – the broad shouldered one.

Your notes go flying, the last of your coffee too and for one split second, you’re pretty positive that you’re gonna end up flat on your ass with a little more than some bruised pride. But just as you’re about to hit the ground, not one but two hands reach for you, catch you, and the very second they do, you feel it:

A flash of guilt and momentary alarm, embarrassment, you think, and chagrin, each emotion hitting you like a sledgehammer, overwhelming you, one after the other in a dizzying blur that’s distinctly other, and then–

Shock.

Dawning surprise.

A rush of something warm, adoring, a happiness so bright and blinding that it makes you physically jerk backwards, almost slamming your head against the wall in the process. And two pairs of eyes – one a deep, luminous gold, the other a cool, gunmetal blue – stare at you in wide eyed wonder a split millisecond before you wrench yourself free, gasping.

The moment their grip falters, the torrent stops. You can breathe.

Blessed silence, save for the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Everything fades out around you – the students and lecturers alike bustling through the busy hallway, the humming drone of chatter that’s nearly deafening. Nothing exists but the three of you; caught in your little bubble.

And it’s dread, you think, that seeps through your blood as you stare at them.

They’re both handsome, albeit in their own ways. The taller of the two – the one who’d almost barrelled you over – looks like he could probably bench press you without breaking a sweat. His shirt isn’t exactly clinging to him, but you can see the hints of well defined muscles beneath, and the size of his biceps alone are enough to make your heart skip a beat and your mouth dry up a little. With rippling muscles, spiky black and silver hair, a strong jawline and those round, golden eyes, he looks like a modern day adonis.

His friend might’ve been shorter, his build leaner, but with his softer features, pretty eyes and dark hair, you think he’s perhaps the prettiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. From the fineness of his nose to the gentle curve of his lips and his long, dark sweeping eyelashes, he reminds you of those white marble statues you’ve seen before in museums and art galleries– a beauty so divine, so perfect – so devastating – that it steals your breath a little.

And they’re both watching you, frozen entirely. Smiling in breathless delight, as if they can’t quite believe it either.

Soulmates.

You’ve spent your whole life wondering what it would be like, experiencing somebody else’s emotions. Studies have been done and countless books and articles written about the bond between soulmates; the intimacy of sharing emotions through touch, but nobody really knows why or how it happens.

And for some, it’s a subtle thing. A suggestion, a whisper against their own consciousness, easily brushed aside. Others feel it stronger.

For you, it was like drowning. Choking under the sudden, intense barrage of feelings that weren’t yours. Maybe it’s because there’s two of them – and that much at least you’re sure of. You don’t have the words to explain it, but they’d felt separate somehow, distinctive from one another – kind of like fingerprints, you suppose.

There’s no denying the bond, no denying that they’re both your soulmates, and all you can think of is that you don’t want it. Not here, not now. Not them.

The dark haired one seems to realise quicker than his friend that you’re not reacting how you’re supposed to, you’re just standing there, rigid and tense, gaping at them. And the slight smile that graced his perfect lips starts to waver, his brows drawing together when finally his friend cottons on.

He reaches for you, the beginnings of a pout taking shape on his face, and you move without even thinking, jerking out of reach with a sharp breath. His hand hangs outstretched for a beat too long, a noise like a kicked puppy leaving his lips as he realises that you’re flinching away from him; away from your soulmate. He looks heartbroken, and he’s yet to utter a single word.

You don’t give him a chance. You’re not some cold, unfeeling beast; there’s a twinge in your heart, a heaviness that’s far too close to guilt settling in your stomach, but you just can’t. And with shaking hands you bend over and hastily grab up your things, forcing yourself not to meet their confused, hurt stares when you right yourself.

“I– I’m sorry,” you murmur, and before either one of them can try to stop you, you disappear into the crowd, racing for your exam.

—

The lights are on when you make it back home, the familiar, comforting scent of home cooked food filling your apartment.

“Hey, babe,” your boyfriend calls out as you wearily drop your purse by the door and kick out of your shoes. His back’s to you, attention fixed on the simmering saucepan on the stovetop, but he glances over his shoulder as he continues, “How’d your exam go?”

And you can’t help it, you burst into tears.

Painful, heaving sobs that might’ve had you collapsing onto the floor if he hadn’t swept across the room to snatch you up into his arms. “That bad, huh?” Kuguri jokes, but the words sound hollow.

“I found them,” you mutter into his chest, and the way he stiffens, his grip tightening for just a moment has your heart breaking all over again.

Kuguri doesn’t say much as he leads you to the couch, he just lets you talk. It’s almost worse, you think, the way he doesn’t react.

Because you both knew this was coming at some point. For months you’ve tried to convince yourself that you could feel him when you were together.

You felt his love when he held you, right?

Happy when he was happy?

But you’d known, both of you, that as much as you wished it otherwise, he wasn’t your soulmate, and you weren’t his. And whether it was today or six months down the line, this was always going to happen.

“You don’t have to…” you trail off, searching his eyes desperately for anything other than the gentle resignation lingering there. “I love you.”

He smiles at that, cups your cheek in his hand and brushes away the stray tear that spills. “I know you do, but–” it’s not enough. “They’re your soulmates. Don’t you think they deserve a chance to make you happy?”

He’s gone when you wake the next morning.

—

In a university of thousands, a sprawling city campus, you honestly believe that in spite of everything, you probably won’t see them again. They don’t know your name, or what you study, you don’t live in the dorms like some of the other students; the chances of just randomly bumping into them again are slim, soulmates or no.

Of course, there are facebook groups and pages set up to reconnect lost soulmates, but you’d have to actually want to find them to try something like that.

(Part of you wonders whether they’ve tried)

The universe has a sense of humour, it seems, because when your paths cross next, it’s not at uni, it’s at the little corner store a few blocks down from your apartment.

At 2am in the morning.

And you’re staring intently at the freezer, mentally weighing up exactly what kind of ice cream you need to sate your craving when you hear the sharp intake of breath behind you.

“Holy crap, you’re here.”

It’s stupid, you think, the way your stomach flutters when you turn to find him staring in wide eyed wonder; the taller one, with the spiky hair and those impossibly wide, honey eyes.

He’s smiling, his entire face lit up like a christmas tree at the sight of you. As if you hadn’t run off without so much as an acknowledgement the last time you’d met. As if seeing you here, looking like shit – makeup free and dressed in your old favourite sweats – is the absolute best thing that could have happened.

And when your cheeks grow hot, you’re not entirely sure if it’s embarrassment over the way you look, the fact that he’s caught you buying ice cream that you fully intend to let melt just a little bit before polishing off at two in the morning, or if it’s shame over how badly you’d reacted the last time you’d seen him.

But if he notices your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it, grinning widely as he calls back over his shoulder, “Akaashi!”

You still haven’t uttered a peep, haven’t moved. Just like last time you’re caught feeling like a kid with their hand stuck in the cookie jar as your other soulmate rounds the corner, his attention fixed on the ingredients list of the rice cracker snacks in his hands, a basket full of groceries tucked into the crook of his elbow.

“Bokuto, I was just around the corner, there’s no need to shout.”

Pretty steel blue eyes flicker up for a split second, then quickly do a double take as he realises that it’s you – his errant soulmate, standing struck dumb, here of all places. “Oh.”

Oh.

Akaashi eyes you for a moment, and you watch as his throat bobs unsteadily, but just as with Bokuto, he can’t seem to help the smile that creeps across his face. It’s softer than his friend’s, not so blinding but warm nonetheless. Genuine. There’s no animosity there, and it should put you at ease – they don’t seem to blame you, at least.

It should, but it doesn’t.

Even now, there’s a little voice in your head urging you to forget your late night cravings, turn tail and run. Nevermind that they’d likely just follow you, much less that you’d look like an absolute fucking idiot, fleeing from your soulmates who so far have done nothing wrong.

It’s not supposed to be this awkward, right? It’s not supposed to be difficult, but even when they’re smiling at you, there’s a tension that digs its claws into you and refuses to relent. Your heart thumps unevenly, like a scared little bunny caught in a trap and the wolves are circling.

If it’s normal, then your parents and every other soulmated pair you’ve ever met certainly kept it to themselves. Maybe it’s the guilt, you think. Maybe you’re just being overdramatic. They’re your soulmates, right? They probably just want to talk, to get to know you, and right now you’re the one being standoffish and rude.

It occurs to you then that you still haven’t spoken, and they’re both staring at you somewhat expectantly. You really are fucking this up, aren’t you?

“H-hi,” you manage to muster, forcing yourself to smile back. Tiny and timidly, perhaps, but it’s a smile.

It seems to work, because Bokuto positively beams at you and Akaashi sets down his basket to slide in closer, a pleased little hum escaping his throat.

Aside from the faint sound of the radio playing in the background and the cashier casually flicking through a magazine up at the register, the store is quiet. It’s just the three of you, except this time there really is no running off and disappearing into the crowd. Which is fine, you need to face them sooner or later, right?

Give them a chance?

Otherwise everything else, all that heartbreak and the lonely nights since will have been all for nothing. So you swallow tightly, take a soft, steadying breath, and press on.

“I, um… I’m sorry about last time. You know with… everything,” you finish lamely, mentally cringing at the sheer awkwardness of it. “I had an exam.”

But again, your soulmates don’t seem to take it personally, the darker haired one (Akaashi, your brain helpfully supplies) nodding slightly.

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” He has a nice voice, calming and smooth, and though the words seem to carry a different weight you find yourself nodding along with him. You can do this, you can make an effort.

This is fine.

You swallow again, tongue darting out to wet your lips, “I’m Y/N,” you introduce, clutching just a little bit tighter at the handles of your own shopping basket.

You don’t extend a hand, nor try to go in for a hug, but standing there rigidly feels wrong too. They’re strangers, yes, but they’re also not, and you don’t quite know how to act around somebody like that, somebody you’re supposedly fated for but know nothing about. All you know is that the last time they touched you, it was too much. It hurt. And even as you catch sight of the slightly disheartened expression on Bokuto’s face, you’re hesitant to put yourself through it again.

“It’s pretty,” Akaashi compliments, and there’s a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks as he says it. “Suits you.”

Your own probably aren’t much better, with the blood that rushes to your face. You drop your gaze a little, nibbling on your bottom lip, “O-oh, uh… thank you.”

When you glance back up to Bokuto, you find him staring at you again, not with the same hurt expression as before, but something akin to wonder. He seems speechless, in awe of your flustered state, and you wonder how he can bounce that quickly from emotion to emotion without giving himself whiplash. But it seems like your attention is just the thing he needs to pull himself out of it, because he closes his gaping mouth and grins again.

“Y/N,” he repeats, like he’s testing it out, rolling your name over his tongue. “You probably heard, but I’m Bokuto– you can call me Koutarou, though.”

There’s a beat of silence, and he’s quick to add, “And that’s Akaashi.”

“Keiji,” Akaashi corrects, shooting you another gentle smile.

First names. It makes sense, you suppose, but the familiarity of it all still doesn’t sit quite right with you. But now that introductions are out of the way, you don't have a clue what you’re supposed to say now - ‘so, soulmates; crazy, huh?’ doesn’t exactly feel appropriate, given the circumstances.

You’re distinctly aware that it’s the middle of the night and you’re at a convenience store and while this might not be the worst time to run into your soulmates again, it’s not far off.

Maybe that’s not a bad thing, though, because at least it kind of gives you an out. Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you clear your throat, “I hope you guys don’t think I’m being rude or anything, but it is kinda late…” you trail off, hoping they’ll pick up what you’re putting down.

And while Bokuto’s brow furrows, Akaashi at least has the decency to look a little abashed. “Yeah, no, of course. We’re just so… we’re glad we ran into you again.”

Your cheeks heat again, and to save yourself from having to meet their gazes head on, you quickly spin around, open the freezer door and grab the first pint ice cream that you see. “I just came for this,” you laugh, fighting back a wince at how hollow and fake it all sounds.

“Here,” Bokuto says, and before you can react he’s snatching it from your grip (thankfully keeping his hand from brushing against yours) and places it atop the basket in Akaashi’s arms. “Our treat.”

He beams at you, and you’re honestly too stunned to reply. You don’t really want him paying for it, but if it gets you out of this awkward encounter any quicker, you’ll swallow down your protests and let it go.

And so you trail meekly after the two of them as they head to the cashier, and when Akaashi passes you the bag you’re so careful to avoid his touch, a fact he notes with the slightest of frowns, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“It’s late,” he says instead as the three of you exit into the brisk night air. And then those gunmetal eyes are on you, studying you for a moment. You realise what he’s about to say the moment he opens his mouth again, “Can we walk you home? Or to the bus stop at least?”

Your stomach lurches at the thought of it, of two veritable strangers knowing where you live, but–

He’s not wrong, exactly. It is late, and in hindsight it was probably stupid for you to have come out at this time of the night alone in the first place, whether it was a safe neighbourhood or not. And they’re not strangers, they’re your soulmates.

You have to try.

So you nod. ‘It’s just down the road,” you murmur, but as the two of them fall into step either side of you, sharing a distinctly satisfied look between themselves, you think that it wouldn’t have mattered how far it was. They would have walked with you anywhere.

Yet their expressions of mild surprise (disappointment, maybe?) when you stop them less than five minutes later in front of your apartment block almost makes you laugh. “This is me.”

Bokuto eyes the building for just a moment before his attention returns to you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Lie, that little voice inside your head urges, but you force yourself to ignore it. You have to try. “Uh, not much, I guess…”

Even as you say the words, your hands tighten on your bag, twisting nervously – a sign they either don’t read or wilfully ignore as Bokuto brightens up once again.

“Awesome! Wanna swing by ours to chill for a little bit?”

Like a date, you think as your gaze flickers between the two. Yet Akaashi’s watching you just as intently, those dark eyes far more inscrutable than Bokuto’s, which doesn’t help ease the uncomfortable feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach. There’s really no reason for you to say no, no polite way for you to turn them down. They’re your soulmates, you’re supposed to want this. “Um…”

“Or we can come here, if you want? Or head into the city and do something there, maybe go see a movie or something? Whatever you’d prefer.”

“No!” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them, the idea of the two of them in your apartment, your home just feels like… too much. “No,” you repeat again, quieter, forcing your features to soften into a hesitant smile. “Your place is good.”

That way you can leave if it all gets to be too much. It’s just a casual hang out. It’ll be fine.

Both of them seem to relax at your agreement, and you quickly take out your phone to grab Akaashi’s number – sending him a message so he has your number too.

“Perfect,” he says, his voice a purr that sends a ripple of something running down your spine. “I’ll text you the address in the morning.”

You smile at both of them, thanking them again for the ice cream and for walking back with you, even if it was only a few hundred metres. And you think you’re in the clear as you start walking up the steps, trying to balance your keys, your phone and your bags when the sound of your name being called makes you turn around.

Bokuto’s there, a step behind you, and before you can even so much as blink he’s grabbing at your hand, tugging you forward and kissing you.

Just like last time, it’s instantaneous and overwhelming. You feel it all – his giddy excitement, the stirrings of something deeper, less innocent as he cradles your body to his.

And the love.

Oh god. It’s not mere affection, not some fleeting, superficial thing. It pours over you in unrelenting waves, crushing you under the force of it – you can’t even feel his tongue moving against yours, or the way he sucks on your bottom lip, groaning quietly.

You can’t breathe, can’t think. It’s too much, too much, too strong, too sudden, you can’t BREATHE.

Your trembling hands finds his shoulders, and as your head spins, nausea churning in your gut you don’t waste a second, shoving him away from you with enough force that he actually stumbles back a little.

Though you’ll admit it’s probably more from shock than any strength you actually possess.

And you don’t dare look to Akaashi as tears fill your eyes, a heaving gasp leaving your lips. Bokuto’s eyes are wide, his mouth agape; he looks confused more than horrified as you stumble back, almost tripping over the last step.

“D-don’t touch me,” you gasp, “please.”

There’s pain in his eyes as your tears well up and spill over and you choke back another sob, but you don’t give him a chance to say anything else. Limbs trembling, you force yourself upright, clutching at the keys in your fist as you skitter towards the door.

You hear one of them, Akaashi you think, calling out your name, but you don’t pause, don’t look back – throwing open the lobby door and slamming it shut behind you.

And your heart pounds as you climb the steps two at a time, and it’s only once you're in the safety of your own apartment, with the door shut and firmly locked that you allow yourself to breathe. You realise distantly that at some point – probably on the steps outside – you dropped the ice cream they’d bought for you, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. The first time you realise was an accident, they had no way of knowing you were their soulmate, much less how you’d react when they’d touched you. But that–

That wasn’t right.

It wasn’t normal.

Those feelings, that love, you’ve never experienced anything like it, and yet it’s left you feeling filthy; tainted. Scared. It was too much; boundless and abundant, the kind of love that devours and chokes, selfishly strangling everything in its environment to thrive. Overpowering and solely directed at you. How was it supposed to do anything but terrify you. And how can he possibly believe that he loves you like that already?

Soulmates or not, you don’t know him!

This– this whole thing is wrong.

You can’t stop yourself from checking the locks on your apartment another three times before you slip under the covers of your bed, trying to will sleep to find you.

On the nightstand beside you, your phone vibrates, but you refuse to check it, knowing full well that it’s them.

It doesn’t stop.

And with every new notification your blood pressure climbs, and there’s a part of you that’s telling you you have no reason to be reacting like this – whatever happened on those steps, it’s not like they’re going to hurt you.

It was an accident, a misunderstanding.

But they’re still blowing your phone up with notifications and they know where you live and no matter what you tell yourself, you can’t seem to quell the disquiet that eats away at you.

And it’s a cruel thing to do, you know it is, but you don’t know what else to do as you finally give in, swiping your phone up and searching for his contact. The phone rings once, twice, three times and there’s a sinking feeling in your chest when you realise he’s not going to pick up–

“Hello?” Kuguri’s voice is groggy, heavy with sleep and you can almost picture him, sitting up in bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes, running a hand through his messy bed hair. “Fuck, do you know what time it is, Y/N? Why’re you calling me so late?”

There’s a pause, pregnant and heavy, and the only sound that leaves you is the soft hitch in your breath.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, quieter this time, an edge of worry in his tone.

You haven’t spoken to him in weeks, since he’d left without a word and broke your heart, but he’s the only one you want to talk to right now.

“I-I’m sorry for calling,” you begin, sniffling back your tears. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

—

When you drag yourself out of bed only a few short hours later, your body’s still crying out for a little more sleep, but you can’t afford to indulge.

Like you’d planned, you send the message first thing, ignoring the flood of unread texts above – both from Akaashi and an unknown number you can only assume is Bokuto’s.

I’m sorry about last night, just need some space.

You have nothing to be sorry for – even if it wasn’t for the frankly unsettling emotions you’d felt, Bokuto’d still kissed you without your permission. But Kuguri said it was better that way – they were less likely to freak out and panic or whatever. You hadn’t questioned it too much, it didn’t really matter what you said so long as they knew you didn’t want them anywhere near you… at least until you figured this whole thing out. And you trusted Kuguri on this.

God knows why he’d even answered your call in the first place, but you’re impossibly glad that he did. Gladder still that he hadn’t hung up on you the moment he’d realised why you were calling.

You scoff down a quick breakfast, before hopping into the shower. The scalding water’s a welcome relief, waking you up more than your coffee had and allowing you the space to think.

Kuguri’s got errands to run this morning, but he’d said you were welcome to stop by his place anytime. He’d insisted on it actually, telling you in no uncertain terms to pack an overnight bag.

‘Look, I’m probably being an overprotective asshole, alright, but I don’t want you there by yourself, so either you come here or I’m coming over there.’

And the thought that you’d need somebody there to protect you, that either one of your soulmates would do anything–

But it’s not so much about them, you think, but you. You’d been a mess when you’d called him, and despite how everything had gone down, Kuguri still cared about you – you can’t just turn those feelings off overnight – is it any wonder that you’d worried him?

Distantly, you register your phone going off a few more times as you busy yourself in washing your hair. You assume it’s Kuguri checking up on you, making sure that you’re alright – you pay it no mind, humming quietly as you reach for your conditioner.

And by the time you slip from your bathroom, wrapped in a big, fluffy towel it’s probably closer to mid-morning than you’d like. You don’t bother blow drying your hair or putting on makeup, instead heading to your room to get dressed and grab some clothes to take to Kuguri’s.

Except there’s a knocking at the door that stops you in your tracks.

You hadn’t heard the buzzer for the building’s main door go off, which meant that it was probably just your landlord stopping by, or one of your neighbours. You know the little girl who lives in the apartment next to yours likes to bake with her dad and sometimes drops off freshly made cookies and treats, so you hastily throw on enough clothes to pass as decent.

“Coming,” you sing out, racing across the room to reach the door.

Except when you throw it open, it’s not one of your neighbours standing out in your hallway, nor is it your elderly landlord.

Akaashi and Bokuto crowd the empty space; Bokuto grinning widely, Akaashi’s dark eyes fixed on yours.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” he murmurs, a faint frown tugging at his features as studies your face. “We were worried about you.”

And there’s so many things wrong with the fact that they’re here; least of all being how the hell they got into the building to begin with, but you can’t afford to think of any of that. You simply need to get them out of here without causing a fuss. Now.

They’re still your soulmates, you remind yourself as your heart rate picks up. They won’t do anything to hurt you.

“I-I told you I needed space, please go,” you mutter, clutching so tightly at the edge of the door that your knuckles turn white. “Please,” you beg again when neither of them make a move to leave.

“I told you, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto says, his smile slipping in favour of a wounded pout, “She’s afraid of us. Her soulmates.”

And you don’t know what compels you to shake your head instead of just slamming the door in their faces, “N-no, I just–”

“She’s just skittish,” Akaashi interrupts, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Overwhelmed – this is all new to her. It’s okay, princess,” he says, addressing you this time with a teasing little smirk, “We’ll be gentle, okay? We’re going to take good care of you.”

It’s the final blow to your tentative politeness. As panic sinks its teeth into you, you skitter backwards, scrambling to shut the front door before they can get in–

Bokuto’s faster. They both are.

Stronger, too.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere bokuto x reader #yandere akaashi x reader #yandere bokuto kotaro x reader #yandere akaashi keiji x reader #yandere bokuto koutarou #yandere akaashi keiji #tw dub con #tw implied noncon #soulmate au

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inkykeiji · 4 years

Text

i can take you there but baby you won’t make it back

character: dabi | todoroki touya

notes: stepcest (kind of—ur parents aren’t married yet) with dabi-as-touya x a very naïve and inexperienced reader, normal!AU (no quirks, dabi also has tattoos over his scarred + fully healed skin), university!reader, implied yakuza!dabi, excessive use of the words niichan and good, praise kink, fingering, face fucking, title credit = save that shit by lil peep lmao uhhhh yeah i hc dabi as a very intelligent and perceptive individual soooo i feel like he’d be a master at reading a person & their emotions and then adapting his manipulation techniques

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), noncon/dubcon, slight somnophilia, emotional manipulation, toxic relationship, size difference, slight degradation, mentions of drug use

words: 7.1k

part 2.1 | part 2.2

synopsis:

“You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, when you lay awake in your bed, you’ll feel ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Your dad’s been dating Rei for a while—nearly a year, now—when things begin to get serious, and he proposes to her.

She accepts, so it’s not exactly a surprise when she suggests you guys move in with her—she’s got more than enough space, she tells you, it’s just her and her son in that big old house—and your dad seems pretty thrilled about it. This was the next step before marriage, after all.

You like Rei well enough, she’s always been nothing but sweet to you, and anyway, your father’s relationship really isn’t any of your business or concern.

It isn’t that you don’t want to move in with her—her house is in a better part of the neighborhood, a standard detached upper-middle class home, and just a short walk from a bus stop that’ll take you directly to university, which you start in a week.

It’s just…You’re a little apprehensive.

You know she has kids. She mentions them in passing every once in a while, but you can’t for the life of you remember their names, or their ages, or how many of them there are. You know they don’t all live with her, that her relationship with her ex-husband is complicated and rocky at best.

But you’re still surprised to hear that only one of them, her eldest, lives with her. She tells you he’s five years older than you are, that he’s a clever, smart boy, going off on a tangent about how disappointed she is that he didn’t go to university, because ‘he would’ve done so well—he could’ve shone so brightly.’ Something about the way she says that, the way her voice sounds almost sad, makes anxiety turn to lead in your stomach. She talks about him as if he’s already a lost cause, but he’s only in his mid-twenties, isn’t he?

You understand the moment you see him. The man standing in front of you as you shift from foot to foot unsurely in the foyer of this unfamiliar house is about as far from what you anticipated as he could possibly be.

He’s tall, skin pale as moonlight, with jet black hair and the most stunning blue eyes you’ve ever seen. But that isn’t what captivates you. It isn’t the lip ring curled around his bottom lip snuggly, and it isn’t the tongue piercing you’re about to find out he’s hiding in his mouth, either.

Every inch of the exposed skin of his arms is covered in intricate, seamlessly flowing tattoos—or, for a moment, you thought it was tattoos, plural. Upon closer inspection, you realize that each arm is actually covered in one giant tattoo, giving a new definition to the term ‘sleeve’. It’s all black ink, not a splash of colour anywhere, depicting an extremely detailed and anatomically correct mechanical arm, complete with what would’ve been joints, ligaments and bones in the form of wires and steel.

The tattoos extend onto the tops of his hands, made to look as if surgical staples are peeling his skin back to reveal the robot beneath. This same tattoo continues up his neck, along his jaw and onto his cheeks, all the way to his bottom lip, spreading across his entire face and disappearing into his hairline and onto his ears. Finally, there’s a small portion of the tattoo underneath his eyes, the surgical staples lining the edges of the face tattoos, too.

It startles you—you’re not necessarily scared, you just…weren’t expecting that. But there’s no denying the rush of breath that involuntarily escapes your lips as your eyes search his face, raking over his body in a brazen way that should make you feel shameful, travelling back up to find him smirking smugly at you, raising an eyebrow as your eyes meet again.

The look in his eyes tells you he knows, knows what you’re thinking about, knows how undeniably attracted you are to him, and scalding heat floods your cheeks.

He chuckles a little, which does nothing but add insult to injury, and sharp anger slices through your chest at the way that you stomach absolutely drops at his gravelly voice. You can’t believe yourself, can’t believe your body is reacting and responding so readily to this man—this stranger.

He introduces himself as Touya, in that rough, deep voice that forces a jolt of electricity to run through your veins. You idly wonder what your name would sound like on his tongue, how it might sound if his voice dropped to a growl, find yourself stuck thinking about this for the rest of the night.

✰ ✰ ✰

To your disappointment, and as much as you are unabashedly interested in him, you don’t interact much with Touya for your first few weeks in the house—in fact, you barely see him at all.

This only piques your curiosity about him more, finding that you’re unable to tear your eyes from him on the rare occasion that you are in a room together. He catches you staring every single time, and he has the audacity to chuckle to himself and shake his head when his gaze meets yours, your eyes quickly darting away and cheeks burning at his laugh.

You begin gathering little tidbits of information about him, purely sourced from interactions you witness in the house, desperately praying for something that’ll give you an opportunity to start a conversation with him.

Your efforts prove fruitless when, almost a month and a half since you moved in, you’ve still only spoken a handful of words to him. You do learn a bit about him through observing, though.

You discover that he’s a smoker, which really doesn’t come as a shock at all. Marlboro’s are his favourite, and he’s always got a pack in his back pocket or rolled up in the short sleeve of his t-shirt. He must have them imported—Marlboro’s are incredibly rare to find all the way in Japan.

Touya must have a lot of things imported.

You find out that every other Thursday, Touya discreetly stuffs an absurdly large wad of cash—all composed of ten-thousand-yen bills—into his mom’s hands, forcing her fingers to curl around it. She fights him on it, every time, but he’s firm and adamant that she take it. It always ends with Rei giving him a small, watery smile, Touya pressing a kiss against the side of her head and murmuring that he loves her.

After you witness this interaction for the first time, you begin to notice that, while the house looks relatively normal on the outside, it is stuffed full of luxury on the inside. Flat-screen TVs each complete with full entertainment systems, state of the art appliances that are somehow up to date with all of the latest trends (including a smart fridge—absolutely ridiculous), custom made furniture, ornate rugs, a housekeeper that drops by every Sunday…

You have no idea what he does for work, but you think you’ve got at least some sort of idea when you catch him one night, just past 2AM, exiting his room and using a thumb to brush excess white powder off his nose. His eyes catch yours, pupils blown and shining in the low light, and he smiles darkly at you, winking once as he walks away.

You don’t ask—no one ever does.

You don’t ask about the crimson splattered on the toe of his boot, or why he sometimes smells metallic, like copper, the strong scent wafting after him and invading the halls as he stalks leisurely toward the bathroom. You don’t ask why he leaves the house at odd hours in the night, and you definitely don’t ask about the soft clinking and clicking you hear through the thin walls every so often while he cleans his gun at 3AM.

You’re not sure if it’s really any of your business, anyway. So you stay quiet, and continue to wait.

The opportunity finally comes one Wednesday in October, two weeks before Halloween, when you’re in the kitchen after school busy fixing yourself an afternoon snack. Touya comes home uncharacteristically early—you rarely see him before 10PM, so his entrance scares you, and you jump a little.

“Sorry,” he murmurs as he passes by behind you, just an inch too close, just enough so you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, shaking your head a little and trying in vain to stop your hands from trembling as you spread peanut butter across a piece of bread.

You can feel his eyes on you, and it makes you nervous, makes your skin crawl in a way you’ve never felt before. He laughs a little at your struggling, leaning against the counter next to you and crossing his arms over his chest.

“You don’t have to be so nervous around me, y’know,” he says with a smirk, eyes glittering at the way your lips part in surprise, your breath stuttering a little. “I’m your niichan after all, aren’t I?”

You hadn’t even considered using the honorific until he himself uses it.

Your hands freeze, hovering over your plate, and you look over at him slowly. “You…Want me to call you that?”

“You can, if you’d like,” he says smoothly, nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It makes no difference to him, he tells you, but when he finally looks back at you, you think you can see it in his eyes—a sharp, small glimmer of…of something. Something that makes your stomach twist in a way you can’t decide if you like or not.

But this is it, you think, this is your opening to finally begin talking to him.

So you do. And the smirk he gives you the first time you address him by the honorific, voice quivering slightly as you ask him where Rei normally keeps the blender, is nothing short of predatory.

“It’s on the top shelf. It’s too high for you, though,” he says, voice so sickly sweet it almost sounds mocking. “Let niichan get it for you,”

It isn’t, but you let him get it for you anyway.

And he knows—knows he’s got you the moment you gasp at the honorific leaving his lips, trying to hide it behind your hand, nodding quickly and squeaking out a thank you.

It starts after that. He begins playing with you; a sick, perverse game of cat and mouse, hunter and hunted, and you play your part perfectly.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said it didn’t send wicked sparks of excitement shooting up your spine and an intense fluttering in your stomach.

And it starts slow. It starts with gentle pet names—honey, sweetheart, princess—and fingertips trailing down your arm as he passes you. It starts with a large hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you—out of the house and into his car, out of the kitchen and into the living room, out of the hallway and into his bedroom—and with little pecks on your lips stolen when no one’s watching, quick kisses that leave you feeling exhilarated despite their chastity.

Suddenly, he’s home a hell of a lot more. He’s sitting too close to you on the couch while you curl up with a textbook, his thigh pressed against you and flesh burning hot through his black jeans. He’s joining the family dinner a few times a week, idly hooking and unhooking his ankle with yours beneath the table while smirking at you from across it.

Suddenly, he’s asking you if you need a ride to school, or if you need someone to pick you up. You don’t, you tell him, the bus is just fine, but he insists. It’s what niichans do, he says. He wants to take care of you, he says.

Who are you to deny him that, really?

✰ ✰ ✰

The first time you experience Touya angry is about a month after the inciting incident, when he catches you walking home with a few of your university friends.

He had texted you earlier that day, telling you that he—very regretfully, he said—would be unable to pick you up from school this afternoon because ‘something had come up’.

You didn’t question what it was—you knew he’d lie even if you did. So you accepted it obediently, reassured him that it was fine, that you’d find another way home.

You’re pretty sure if you had told him that you didn’t have any extra change on you for the bus suddenly whatever important thing that had ‘come up’ which so desperately needed his attention wouldn’t be so urgent anymore. But you didn’t want to be a bother, or inconvenience him, so you say nothing.

Two friends decide they’ll accompany you on your walk home, so you aren’t lonely, they claim. Normally, the walk from campus to your house is about thirty minutes, but that day it takes you nearly an hour, wasting time goofing around and walking slowly as you talk idly.

Touya’s already pissed that it’s taken you so long to arrive home, that you’ve ignored all of his extremely considerate texts asking if you’re alright, but when he sees you squished between two boys, giggling as the three of you stumble up your driveway—he’s fucking fuming.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asks, voice calm and monotonous, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Your head snaps up—you swear he wasn’t there just a second ago—blood running cold.

His stance is relaxed, arms crossed loosely over his chest, lazily raising an eyebrow as your wide eyes meet his. Technically, the only indication that he’s furious is the blazing blue fire in his eyes, but your friends can read the tension in the air surrounding him, shuffling a little closer to you. This minuscule action does not go unnoticed by Touya, sharp jaw clenching once.

“You had niichan worried,”

You’re frozen a few feet away from the porch, unable to find your voice, to move your legs, to breathe at all.

“I didn’t know you had an older brother,”

Your eyes do not leave Touya’s as you speak, the words hoarse. “Oh, we’re—”

“Yeah,” Touya bites, irritation finally bleeding into his voice. “She does,” his eyes float back to yours. “Come here, princess,”

Your body snaps into action, moving automatically before you can even comprehend it, allowing Touya to tuck you into his side the moment you reach him.

Your hands are shaking, but you have no control over them as your fingers curl in his white t-shirt, clinging to him. To your surprise, the arm around your shoulders hugs you closer in response, thumb caressing you.

“Thanks for making sure she got home safely,” he tosses over his shoulder, managing to make the simple sentence sound like an insult, tone bordering on patronizing, while he turns on his heel, marching you both inside.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you’re rushing to say the moment the front door shuts behind you two, Touya’s arm still wrapped firmly around you.

He looks down at you coldly. “Don’t you dare pull shit like that again,” he tells you, eerily calm voice forcing spikes of icy dread up your spine. He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in as his eyes bore into yours. “You had me worried sick,” he breathes out then, squeezing you again. You’re surprised in the sudden change of tone, feeling your chest swell at the thought of him fretting over you, a small smile gracing your lips.

“I…I did?”

Touya’s eyebrows furrow, as if he’s offended at your questioning, mood morphing in the span of a second. “Of course you fucking did,” he spits like you’re stupid, arm dropping. “Do you ever check your phone?”

“Wh-What?”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Check your phone,” he calls out airily as he begins walking into the kitchen, shaking his head a little, disappointment rolling off him in waves.

Hastily fishing your phone out of your bag, you’re astonished to see eight texts from him and three missed calls. You scroll through the texts quickly, each one making you feel more nauseous than the next. ‘Is everything okay? You should’ve been home by now’; ‘Please answer me, princess, you’re making your niichan nervous’; ‘Where are you? Answer my fucking calls already’. Guilt turns sour in your mouth and you hurry after him.

“I-I really am s-so sorry,” you force the words out, unsure as to why there are suddenly tears stinging your eyes. He isn’t even doing anything—his back is facing you as he nonchalantly begins brewing a pot of coffee.

But the thought of him being upset with you, of losing his approval, sends a sharp pain searing through your chest.

“Are you?” he asks, and although his voice holds no malice in it, it causes your whole body to stutter with a harsh breath.

“Yes,” you whimper out, latching onto his arm and tugging in an attempt to draw his eyes to yours, to see how regretful you are, the remorse written across your face. “I should’ve…That was so careless and inconsiderate of me,”

“It was,” he agrees simply, voice still light, as if he’s discussing something as mundane as the weather. “But you’ll never do it again, right?”

“Right,” you agree readily, breathing out the word before you even realize what you’re agreeing to.

“Tell niichan you’ll never worry him like that again,” he finally looks over at you.

“I-I’ll never worry you like that again, niichan, I pr-promise,”

His eyes hold yours for what feels like eons, before he finally twists his arm out of your grasp, instead wrapping it around you and tugging you against his body. You stay staring up at him, eyes wide and obedient, breath bated as you wait for your next order, so pliant and ready to serve him.

“Good,” he whispers, eyes finally softening, and you feel like you can breathe properly again. His free hand cups your face, thumb running along your lips, then your chin, then your jaw. “You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, you’ll lay awake in your bed, feeling ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

✰ ✰ ✰

He begins to trust you more. You meet his friends, each one terrifying in their own right. Jin is alright, although his brain is fried from drugs, and he talks to and contradicts himself a lot, earning the nickname Twice from Tomura.

Tomura horrifies you to your very core—a tall, lanky man with sunken red eyes and sickly pale skin who looks like he’s one bad day away from death—and Touya tells you very sternly to stay away from him.

A university student not unlike yourself, Keigo is your favourite. Keigo is the most normal, with his wild blonde hair and enticing gold eyes that always look like they’re playfully holding the secrets of the universe just out of your grasp.

Keigo’s brain is always going a hundred miles a minute, although you’d never guess it with his trademark lazy drawl, speaking as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. But he can always keep a conversation going, knows exactly what to say to avoid awkward silences or lulls in the discussion, and you appreciate that. You think he’s so cool—he has so much knowledge about the oddest things, everything and anything, ‘a walking encyclopedia’, Tomura calls it, and it fascinates you to no end.

It’s the speed, Touya tells you one night while you’re laying on the couch, your body on top of his, the pads of his fingers dragging down your back in rhythmic strokes. Speed is Keigo’s drug of choice, you find out. Speed is the reason why Keigo knows as much as he does.

“Sometimes he doesn’t sleep for days,” Touya says. “That’s how he has all the time to memorize everything he knows—though that big overactive brain of his plays a part in it, too,”

The thought inexplicably makes your heart sink in your chest, and you don’t say anything else. If Touya notices your shift in mood, he doesn’t mention it. You idly wonder what Touya’s drug of choice is, but you’re too scared of the answer to ask.

✰ ✰ ✰

It’s only a few nights later when you wake with a violent jolt, breathing laboured as you absentmindedly press your palm to your chest, trying in vain to calm your racing heart.

A nightmare.

You sit in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of your own harsh breaths echoing off the walls and debating what to do next. A minute later, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, wincing when your bare feet touch the cold hardwood, and pad down the hallway.

You try to trick yourself into believing that you aren’t using this purely as an excuse to spend the night with him. It really was so scary, you reason with yourself, it really has made you all shaken up…

Who are you kidding? You didn’t even attempt to go back to sleep.

You’ve been in his room plenty of times now—sitting daintily on his bed as he introduces you to new music, new movies, new books. Stuff that reminds him of you, he says, stuff that he thought you might be interested in. You’re grateful for it; there are so many things you’ve learned in the short time you’ve known him.

That isn’t all, though. There’s no denying the warmth that spreads through your body, that tiny excited flutter in your chest, when he calls your name and interlaces your fingers, leading you toward his room and telling you he’s got something to show you.

Yes, you’ve been in his room plenty of times now. But this is the first time you spend the night in his bed.

He’s still up, soft golden light leaking from under his closed bedroom door. Your hand quivers a little as you lift it to rap your knuckles against the wood. He appears in the doorway a moment later, leaning against the frame in a black t-shirt that looks like it’s a size or two too small for him, riding up to reveal a teasing sliver of milky skin, tips of his hipbones jutting out from the waistband of his plaid pajama pants.

“Princess? What is it?”

You didn’t realize you were staring, and you jump a little at his gravelly voice.

“Oh. I, um—Well, I just…had a nightmare a-and I can’t sleep,”

You can barely look him in the eyes as you say it, your cheeks burning. You both know it’s a lie.

But he plays along.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, drawing you into his arms, into his room, into his bed.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs as he turns on his side to face you, propping his head up with a hand. “Poor thing. Was it a bad one?”

Your mouth feels like its been stuffed with cotton, rendering you incapable of speech, tongue dry and sluggish. You nod in response, heat seeping into your cheeks again at just how loudly your heart is thumping while you roll onto your side. There’s only a few inches of space between your bodies now, his hot breath fanning across your face as he speaks again.

“Do you want niichan to help you forget about it?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes searching his. Your thighs squeeze together at the way his voice has dropped an octave, low and husky, familiar heat pooling in the depths of your belly. He waits patiently, lifting a hand to caress your cheek, then runs his fingertips down your bare arm, goosebumps following.

Finally, you nod. You think you see the corners of his lips quirk up into the slightest hint of a smirk, but you blink, and it’s gone.

“Here,” he whispers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. Hand cupping your jaw, he tilts your face up and slots his mouth against yours.

You’ve kissed before, of course—in his bed, in yours, on the living room couch, on the kitchen counter with his hips shoved between your thighs—but this…this feels different.

These are kisses with intent, with purpose, with a goal in mind. These are kisses that keep you distracted—slow, soft, messy with saliva—as his hand slips down your body and between your thighs.

Your gasp breaks the kiss, wide eyes blinking up at him then fluttering shut as he brushes a knuckle against your clit. He hushes you, nimble fingers spreading your folds before he drags them up your slit, huffing out a laugh at how wet you already are.

“Were you thinking about something naughty before?” he gasps mockingly, sliding the pads of his fingers back down as he speaks.

His hand withdraws from your shorts and he orders you to lift your hips, tugging the waistband down your thighs. You squirm a little, forcing them further down your legs until you free yourself of them completely, eyes gazing up at him again, awaiting your next command.

Legs part dutifully as his hand travels back down to the apex of your thighs, pushing a finger into your soaking pussy.

It’s slow at first, thrusting leisurely with his middle finger a few times and loosening you up a little before adding his ring finger. Sapphire eyes watch his motions, captivated by how your eager little cunt sucks his fingers in selfishly.

“Look at that, huh?” he breathes, looking down at you. “Such a pretty little pussy you’ve got,”

You open your bleary eyes to peer at yourself, mesmerized by the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, glistening in the dim light of his bedroom. He curls his fingers and you inhale sharply, hips twitching toward his palm.

“Oh?” he chuckles darkly, knuckles nudging the spot again. “Did niichan find something, baby?”

You don’t know, you’re not sure, you try to tell him, but all you can seem to manage is pathetic little whines while you nod your head.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he’s asking as the pads of his fingers tap against that spot, your entire body jolting.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper out, a little breathlessly. “But it’s never felt like this,”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, and it’s so condescending. “Then you weren’t doing it right, sweetheart,”

He quickens his pace, chuckles at the way you try to desperately fuck yourself on his fingers at such an awkward angle.

“Poor little thing, can’t even get herself off properly,” he tsks. “You need your niichan to do it for you, don’t you?”

Soft whines spill from your throat as you nod eagerly, your stomach coiling tightly.

“One day,” he breathes, curling his fingers with a vengeance this time, your hips rolling up off the mattress. “When we have the time, I’ll teach you how to make yourself feel so good,”

He’s talking too much. You want to tell him this, tell him to shut the hell up, but every time you try to speak he presses the heel of his palm to your clit and grinds against it, effectively scattering all of your thoughts, soft mewls of niichan the only sound escaping your lips.

Can’t deny his voice is fucking hot though, a form of foreplay all on its own.

And he knows this, can read you like a goddamn book, especially when he’s got his fingers two knuckles deep inside of you. He can feel it, he tells you. You don’t even need to speak; he can feel your thoughts when his voice drops an octave and your cute little hole flutters, when he chuckles and your pussy clenches around his fingers—a slut for his voice, aren’t you?

“Pretty baby, you can’t do anything but nod dumbly, can you? Been fucked stupid by my fingers alone, huh?”

Your head barely moves, lost all control of your body by this point, only able to whimper in response.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, pretty girl?” the knuckle of his thumb begins grazing your clit in quick strokes. “C’mon, make a mess for niichan,”

And it’s pathetic, how quickly your body obeys. Your pussy squeezes once, twice, three times and you’re gushing all over his fingers, juices collecting in his palm, running down his wrist. You’re embarrassed—you’ve never cum that much before, have you?

Breathing still ragged, you nuzzle into his sheets, partially hiding your face from him. Nothing could hide the involuntary grin that forms on your lips, though. Arms snake under your boneless body, tugging a bit.

“Oh no, baby, we aren’t done yet,” Touya’s saying while he hoists you up, letting you lean heavily against him.

Head tilting in confusion, your glazed eyes find his. “Wh-What?”

He looks down at his lap and your gaze follows, a tiny whimper slipping past your lips at the bulge straining against his pants. “Doesn’t niichan deserve a nice reward for helping you forget that scary dream?”

Eyes darting back to his, you nod slowly, whispering out, “Yes. But—But…” But you’re hesitant; you’ve never done anything like this before. Shaking hands reach for the waistband of his pants, beginning to pull them down but freezing when the head of his cock peeks out.

Touya sighs. “Come on, you wanna be a good girl for niichan, don’t you?”

Of course. Of courses you do.

Then he wants you to touch him, he says. He’ll help you; he promises.

“But you gotta get it wet first,”

You ask how, and he laughs at you. “With your tongue, stupid,” he tells you.

He instructs you to kneel on the floor and you comply immediately, trembling legs folding beneath your body as you situate yourself between his knees. He inches forward on the bed a little, shuffling himself to the edge and caging you between his thighs. Bringing his cock close to your mouth, he taps the head against your closed lips.

They part instantly, obediently, his eyes flashing with something sinister as you take the head into your mouth and suck hesitantly, big eyes staring up at him waiting for approval.

He curses, his hips twitching ever so slightly, skin stretched taut over bony knuckles as a hand forms a fist in the sheets. Starting with kitten licks at first, the tip of your tongue barely touches him, tracing veins, then begins to gain more confidence as he groans a little, telling you what to you, that you’re doing good, so good for him.

Watching him through thick lashes, you have the audacity to look bashful as your tongue laves around the shaft, drenching it in saliva. A hand tangles in your hair and yanks, pulling you off his cock when he decides it’s sufficiently wet enough. Long fingers encircle your wrist, bringing your hand to form a fist around him.

“Like this,” he says, jerking your hand up and down.

You’re terrible at it, movements awkward and uncoordinated, but in that moment he doesn’t really care. He’s irritated a little, wondering out loud how anyone can be bad at handjobs while a large hand wraps around yours and forces you to speed up. Bad? Your heart sinks at the small three letter word, a hard lump forming in your throat, looking as though you may start crying.

But he cums quickly after that, ropes of searing hot white painting your cheeks and face. You watch him the entire time, panting a little, lips parted slightly and your tongue darts out to lick them, tasting him.

He laughs at your bitter reaction, and it’s such a patronizing sound.

“Don’t worry,” he says, collecting the cum off your face and forcing his fingers into your mouth. “Someday I’ll stuff your throat full of it.”

✰ ✰ ✰

You can no longer mention needing—no, wanting—anything around him anymore, because within the next few days it’s sitting pretty and perfect on your bed, propped up against your lace trimmed pillows.

He’s so good to you; you should be grateful you have such a generous niichan, one who eats you out and spoils you with gifts. You’re so spoiled.

And he tells you this, in the dead of night when you wake to find him shoving his cock into you, snarling a little at your soft whines of protest.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns. Just be a good girl and take his cock. He does so much for you, can’t you be good for him?

Yes, yes, you want to be good for him, you want to be the best for him.

By this point you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night with his head between your thighs, prepping you to take him.

“Stay sleeping, baby,” he’ll tell you, words whispered into your hair as his cockhead nudges against your hole.

As if you could ever stay sleeping when only a few minutes later he’s pounding you into oblivion, large hand clasped over your mouth so tightly his blunt nails are digging into your cheek, so hard that it’s yanking your head back, neck beginning to ache.

He tells you to be quiet, “You don’t want anyone to hear, do you? Then we’d have to stop, and you don’t want that, right, sweetheart?”

You don’t, you whimper. Of course you don’t—you want whatever he wants, you want to be his perfect little baby, you want to be told how good you take his cock, the praise mumbled against your skin in a low, strained voice right before he fills you with cum.

✰ ✰ ✰

He disappears for a few days near the end of December. You have no idea where, Touya answering your curious texts with playful quips at first before he grows tired of it and tells you to stop fucking asking.

But eventually, he returns.

The front door slams shut and your body flinches with a jolt of excitement. Adrenaline spikes your blood when you hear his heavy boots colliding with the hardwood, getting louder, louder, louder…

He passes right by you, not glancing at you at all. Moments later, the sound of water hitting the tiled shower wall echoes down the hallway.

And you wait. Patiently, you wait, like the good little girl you are, not daring to move a muscle. Eventually he re-emerges, hair still damp, a few strands sticking to his neck.

With a groan, he collapses on the couch next to you, flopping his head into your lap and gazing up at you with glazed, blown sapphire eyes.

“You’re high,” you say softly, not accusatory, just an observation. He giggles a little.

“So what if I am?”

“What did you take?”

“Oh,” he gasps mockingly. “Oh no, baby, I can’t tell you that,”

Why? The question is burning on the tip of your tongue, and you can tell that he’s anticipating that to be your next response, but you bite down on your bottom lip, holding it in. You know his answer already, can practically hear his patronizing voice—Because good baby sisters aren’t supposed to know about stuff like this.

“Can I try some?” you ask instead.

All of the mirth fades from his eyes in an instant, and he moves in a flash despite his inebriated state, so quick you can barely tell what’s happening. His large hand wraps around your bicep in a bruising grasp, pulling you towards him as he sits up, his face an inch away from yours.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he spits, cobalt eyes blazing and voice rumbling against your chest. “And if I so much as catch wind that you’re using, have a mere feeling that you’ve tried it—even just once—I’ll slaughter you and the fucker you got it from. Do you understand me?”

Surprised tears spring into your eyes and you nod jerkily, body beginning to tremble as your breath gets caught in your throat. You want to tell him that you didn’t mean it, honest, you promise!; that you were just kidding around, you swear!, but you can’t, voice mangling itself with the hitched little breaths on the back of your tongue.

He growls at your silence, his grip around your arm tightening and you cry out, terrified that he might actually crush the bone with his bare hand.

“Say, yes Touya, I understand,”

“Y-Yes Touya, I understand,” you manage to stutter out, voice returning only at the command of a direct order, tears spilling over and rolling down your cheeks in pairs. His eyes search your face for a moment, his features contorted in fury, before he sneers at you, squeezing your arm once then roughly letting go, shoving you away from him.

You fall backward against the arm of the couch, heart thumping so vigorously you’re sure he can hear it. He groans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, exasperated.

“Fuck,” he sighs, eyes opening to glare at the ceiling. “You’ve ruined my high,”

You stare at him, breath coming out in uneven huffs, clinging to the couch.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, terrified to move lest you upset him more.

He’s silent for a moment, still staring up, until he lolls his head to the side, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. A small smirk spreads across his face.

“C’mere,” he says, nodding his head a little in indication.

“Wh-What?”

“C’mere,” he repeats. “Come make it up to me,”

Your body’s moving before you’ve given it permission to, crawling into his lap obediently, thighs on either side of his hips. His smirk widens, and you love it—you love how much control he has over you without even trying, you love the way a quiet whimper slips through your lips as his large hands begin kneading your flesh, running up your legs and grabbing your ass.

Lips trail up the column of your neck, and you tilt your head back, a silent plea for more. You can feel the way his lips curl into a grin against your skin, nipping at it a second later.

“So, how you gonna make it up to me? Huh?” he shifts his hips under you, pressing his hard cock into your clothed core. You whine a little, grinding against him.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” you breathe out while sharp teeth mar your collarbone.

“The hell you waiting for? Show me,”

You begin sliding down his body and he pushes on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees between his spread thighs. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, gaping pupils outlined by a thin ring of blue.

Holding his gaze, you lean forward with your pretty little tongue hanging out and begin licking along the straining bulge, tracing it slowly, the denim rough against your sensitive muscle. You relent though, lapping at his clothed cock in slow, long strokes, and his jeans are just thin enough for you to feel him pulse in response.

A giggle bubbles up past your lips, muffled by the denim, already beginning to feel heady as you pull simple reactions from him. Your mouth forms a cute little ‘o’ and you suck on him the best you can through his jeans, drooling all over his lap and soaking through the material.

The hand in your hair tightens into a fist, yanking hard and pulling your mouth away. “Stop fucking teasing,” he warns, a hint of something ominous in his voice.

You obey, because you always obey, tiny fingers working to quickly unbuckle his belt, pop the button, yank down the zipper. He aids you, lifting his hips and allowing you to tug his jeans down his thighs enough for his cock to spring out.

His own hand wraps around the shaft, you pausing mid-action as you reach for it.

“Open,” he demands, your dutiful lips parting immediately, letting him push his cock into the warm, wet cavern.

He sets a brutal, punishing pace from the start, refusing to give you a single moment to adjust. His other hand fists in your hair, forcing you to stay still as he rams his cock down your throat.

Reflexive tears burn your eyes, blurring your vision. You blink quickly to clear them, desperate to watch him, to catalogue all of his micro-expressions and the sound of his voice as he grunts out your name, to burn it into your mind, etch it into your very soul.

Touya’s head falls back against the couch, Adams apple bobbling with his rough whimpers, long neck and sharp collarbone on full display. If your mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, you’d love to lick up his smooth skin, to trace the dips of his collarbone with your tongue and sign your name in brilliant splotches of blue and purple.

You’re gagging around his cock now, starting to feel lightheaded and struggling to inhale enough oxygen. The ache in your jaw is beginning to spread, but you ignore it, stretching your mouth open wider, to take more, to be good for him, to make him proud. It’s worth it for the hoarse, throaty moans you’re pulling from him, to hear your name shuddered out, followed by a breathy, “Fuck,”

He forces hot cum down your throat a moment later, and you choke on it, sputtering around his cock, throat spasming as it tries to force the foreign object out. He won’t let it, though. He holds your head in place, nose pressed against his pubic bone, and you can do nothing but take it, like a good little girl, like he tells you to.

But it’s all worth it. It’s all worth it, to hear his broken whines like that, to have him look down at you and pull your hair and tell you you’re good, so good for him.

And you’re sobbing by the end of it, gasping for air the moment he lets go of you, wheezing violently as your head collapses against his thigh.

“Did I—” you cough, voice raspy from having your throat fucked raw, “—Did I make it up to you, niichan?” you gaze up at him, eyelashes spiky with residual water. You’re the perfect picture of obedience, strands of hair stuck to your face where your salty tears have dried and swollen lips gleaming with saliva as you watch him with glittering eyes, waiting desperately for his praise.

He looks down at you, eyes devious and diabolical, chest heaving a little. “Of course you did,” he tells you, corners of his lips tugging up into a sharp smirk as you melt into him. “You always do, don’t you?”

#todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #dabi x reader #dabi smut #touya x reader #dabi may be a scumbag but he loves his momma #tomura baby i’m so sorry #promise u don’t horrify me at all oof #pls come horrify me more #christ if dabi isn’t touya we’re all gonna look like goddamn fools #a buncha clowns #anyway this is my first time posting something like this #n i haven’t written smut in an extremely long time #so pls be nice #actually u should always be nice #so pls be extra nice #no one beta’d this so there’s a good chance i’ll come back to it n revise it or whatever idk i’m just sick of looking at it rn #the ‘he talks too much’ is inspired by ch 271 w hawks where he’s all ‘he’ll keep talking’#dabi shut the fuck up challenge #prone to monologuing this boy is #also sorry abt the crazy sentences with a thousand commas #apparently now i’m oscar wilde w these run on sentences #idk i still kinda like em tho #i like oscar #tw pseudo-incest #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw emotional manipulation #tw somnophilia #tw drugs

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oikadori · 3 years

Text

a/n: not me crying at 2am about an Oikawa edit, that was my twin sister not me at all...this is totally self indulgent so uhm...yeah. Hope you enjoy it tho!!

edit: i'm so sorry for reposting again but i really feel that the best exposure is int the first hours let's hope this time it stays 😔

Oikawa Tooru x fReader

Summary: in which you are tired of hearing how is never enough for Oikawa Tooru.

Genre: angst, fluffy end tho, established relationship

Now playing ⊳ King by Lauren Aquilina ; Next to me by Imagine Dragons

WC~2k

It had become part of your routine at this point, sitting on the couch for hours, staring bluntly at some program as you wait for your boyfriend to come home.

It was not the passion he has for volleyball that has you on a gloomy mood today. It was not falling asleep on an empty bed as you heard the sounds of balls hitting the wooden floor coming from the speakers of his laptop in the living room, and it was not how your throat becomes dry after you begged him to sleep.

But you were tired, that is the only way to express it, tired of feeling your heart clench at the way he neglects himself, at this point you didn’t even care if he neglected you, which wasn’t the case, but him.

Your phone always got texts from him, asking if you had breakfast, if you had lunch or simply saying a hello. He called you before coming home offering you to bring some sweet from that store you liked so much. But, when you asked him if he had a good lunch, those tests always seemed to get lost in his inbox.

Oikawa always gave you a smile as the same words came out of the lips that kissed you every morning.

“Don’t you want me to be the best, my love?”

That simple phrase always seemed to wrap your heart in a death cold no matter the sweetness in his tone, they made impossible for you to come with an argument that would make Oikawa’s stubborn head understand. Understand that he was slowly tearing himself up and hurting you in the process.

However, none of that is what had you sitting on the couch right now, arms crossed over your chest and lips pressed together, but as soon as Oikawa crossed the door, he knew the exact reason.

“Y/N-chan? I thought you were going out with your friends today”, he drops the bag on the ground, the keys of your shared apartment hitting the floor in the process, “Shit”

Your eyes are trained on the way his face contorts as he reaches for the keys, making your heart sink.

“Anyways, how are you, cutie?”, Oikawa stands in his full height before displaying a closed-eye smile at you.

However, his trademark grin fades as he sees your brows furrowing together, the air suddenly charging with the accumulated tension.

“Is there something w–“

“You tell me”, when you look at his knee with inquiring eyes, Oikawa blinks before turning his face away from you.

“It is nothing”, his mouth twitches down, “I’m fine”

‘no you are not’

His answer only makes you sigh loudly as your mind goes back to the early hours of today, the scene that made your chest sting popping out.

Oikawa had kissed your forehead like every other morning before mumbling a brief goodbye, he chuckled lightly at the way you babbled some sort of greet and he walked to the door like every other day but he failed to notice how your eyes opened and gazed at him.

His eyes widened as he felt the burn on his right leg, not knowing you were watching in horror the way his knee falters, causing his leg to tremble before giving in to gravity. He held onto the handle tightly, gritting his teeth to capture the whine that threatened your sleep. However, when he turned around, he founded your half-closed eyes fixated on him, but before you could say anything, he rushed away hoping your mind was clouded enough with tiredness to forget about it.

“How long?”, you ask, standing up slowly and moving towards him.

“I don’t know, what–”

“When started hurting this bad?”

His gaze fixes on the ground, his fists clamp together, annoyance bubbling up in his stomach. He knows what’s coming, he has heard that discourse way too many times to not know how this conversation will go.

“Since always Y/N!”, he cries out almost in pain, his hair moving violently matching with his gestures, the gap in your mouth mirrors the shock in you.

“You need a break Tooru…”

“So they can found someone better? No, thank you”, he lets out a dry laugh as he looks down at you.

“What is the point if you end up not being able to walk without limping??!!”, your voice falters at the end as you picture him holding onto the handle for stability, “You are out of control…”

Oikawa’s nails dig into his palm as he frowns, eyes narrowing at you with dangerous intensity.

“As if you knew…” , the sharpness in his voice makes nothing but press the wound in your heart furthermore.

“Of course, I know, damn it! Tooru you are barely sleeping! I don’t know if you’re even eating properly since we almost never have any meal together!”

And then as if your words had hit the right nerve inside the setter, Oikawa snaps, the look he shoots at you makes your movements halt and your voice dissolves into silence. He was tired and frustrated but ultimately scared and the fact you couldn’t see how scared he was, only frustrates him more.

“No, you don’t know a fucking thing! I need to get better!!”

“Tooru you are their regular setter already!”, you scream at him your face getting red with anger as your tone fades into a bare whisper, “Nothing is enough for you, isn’t it?!”

Oikawa knew that the question itself wasn’t entirely related to his volleyball career. The pleading look you give him and the tremble in your lips tells him that you are not only referring to the all the medals and recognitions but about your relationship itself.

You were asking him if you weren’t enough for him…And maybe you weren’t.

“No!”, the word comes out rushed, his thoughts getting more and more clouded by frustration. You grit your teeth when Oikawa places a hand on his forehead as if he had a bad headache, as if you were the cause of the annoying hammering,

“You are so selfish…can’t you see all what you ha–”, your voice comes in low hiss and before you can finish he lets out a loud groan as the keys in his hand fly across the room landing with a loud thud against your living room table, making you flinch.

“Why can you just let me do what I have to? Is it too much for your head to understand?!”, he shouts, and you feel a sting in your chest, your eyes almost seem to fall from your face and your breath stops as you see how your boyfriend’s face contorts in malice.

“I could pick any of those girls who wait for me after the matches, you know? I could have any of them and they wouldn’t be as half as annoying as you!”

Oikawa’s chocolate orbits are piercing at you in anticipation when he catches the redness saturating your eyes, causing his heart to drop to the ground.

“I–“

“Go, pick a nobody who only wants to fuck with you,” you try your best to not flinch, but the venom in his words make a silent tear to roll down your cheek, “because I’m not staying to watch how you destroy yourself”

You walk past him, brushing his shoulder roughly, your steps to the door are so fast, he doesn’t get a chance to even try to reach for your hand.

The slam of the door makes a feeling of anguish settle on his chest. His feet move subconsciously to the door when a loud groan leave his lips, the pain on his knee makes his whole body shiver as he falls apart a meter away of the handle.

“Shit, shit, shit”, he whines as he manages to move his body until his back is leaning against the door, his hand travels to his pocket, desperately pulling out his phone, a pout cross his features when your name pops on his recent calls. The phone rings and rings but no answer comes, when the small device turns off, he feels himself growing numb.

And the minutes turn into hours, the night wrapping the city as Oikawa rests against the door.

Oikawa had never felt this desperate, the pain in his knee is unnoticeable compared to the ache swelling in his chest. One call, one message, anything that would let him know that you are safe, that is all he needs right now.

“What did you do for her to stay with you?”, Iwaizumi’ words ring in his ears, “You are lucky Oikawa”

He was lucky indeed, his head drops to the back, hitting the wood, his breath falters as tears stream down his face until they turn into uncontrollable sobs, the sting on his knee and the guilt mixing painfully together.

Suddenly, the door pushes his body to the side, hitting the back of his head causing him to grunt.

“Tooru?”, his eyes widen, he turns immediately to encounter your still glassy eyes gazing down at him in confusion, “What are you doing on the floor?”

Your voice is stoic however it is music for Oikawa’s ears, he quickly brushes the tears away from his face as he tries to stand up, a hiss slipping his throat.

“Oh god, Tooru!”, you quickly leave the store bag you are carrying and bend down to support him, “I bought some–

“I’M SO SORRY Y/N!! I-I DIDN’T MEAN TO–“, he groans as you try to lift him up but your small figure can’t do much to move the former captain of Seijoh, so you just drop him carefully back on the floor and kneel in front of him, “P-Please don’t leave…”

Your silence makes his heartbeat pace faster and he grabs your hands tightly, his gaze fixes on yours and you notice the fear his orbits hold. You have never seen him this vulnerable and your eyes don’t fail to show your surprise.

“Please don’t leave me Y/N-chan“, your lips press softly over his own before he says anything else, Oikawa’s brows furrow together as he squeezes your hands gently, sighing, relived.

“You should get someone better–”, he says,

“You are probably right”, you sigh, “you did hurt me, but– I guess I just love you that much”, he loses himself in the softness of your voice and tears threaten to come out again.

“I truly admire how hard you work but you have to take care of yourself Tooru–“,his glassy eyes look at you, still not able to believe you’re here, next to him, you bit your lip before cupping his cheek, “–you might not be the king of volleyball yet, but for what it is worth, you’re the king to me”

You blush violently but not even as close as the flustered red that tints Oikawa’s features, he leans in hesitantly to claim your lips and you both melt in the kiss.

He never thought such words would made him feel so complete and he realizes that all he ever needed was you by his side.

“Not gonna lie, I was hoping you’d say, ‘you are the king of my heart’ or something like that”

“I-Can’t you just take the stupid compliment?”, he chuckles with a husky tone but suddenly stops, he places a hand on your cheek his thumb making soothing circles over your flushed skin.

“Thank you”

“Uh?”

“For giving me another chance”, your knees start to sore from kneeling on the floor but you can’t move as his chocolates eyes stare into your own brimming with emotion, “I love you so much, I’m so sorry Y/N”

“If so, stop overworking yourself, okay?”

Your fingers tangle with his brown locks as he whispers a silent yes, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping your torso tightly as if he was still scared you fade away.

Oikawa doesn’t have a throne, but he’ll proudly wear the title you gave him, and he’ll do his best the be worthy of the crown that comes with it.

❀ Please reblog if you like it! ❀

Thanks for reading ♡♡♡

#oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #oikawa fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x you #oikawa tooru x you #hq oikawa #oikawa tooru

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aziraphales-library · 3 years

Note

Hi! Could you recommend some good fics with the self sacrifice trope? Maybe a take-me-instead trope, maybe sth else! I'd really love it if it was Aziraphale who did the sacrifice too, we all know how much he cares

There are some self-sacrificing fic recs here. And I have some more fics involving sacrifices of varying kinds for you...

Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire, and Back Again by 29Pieces (T)

A demonic assassin. A bank robbery in the wrong place at the wrong time. An angel and a demon forced to outwit their enemies without using miracles. They've been in bad spots before but this is one Crowley might not survive. Whump, shenanigans, and of course comfort.

The Sins of Love by FeatherBlack (T)

Crowley goes missing for a decade and Aziraphale isn't sure whether or not he should be worried. That is, until Crowley crashes onto the floor of his shop in a state almost worse than death.

An Exercise in Trust by organizechaos (T)

It’s been eleven years since Armageddon and Heaven and Hell have been conspiring to restart it. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley moved in together, got married, and are overall really happy. When their former bosses finally confront them — attacking with an object that will take centuries worth of memories from the ineffable pair — something goes a little wrong in the process… Crowley takes the full hit.

(Basically, it’s just about +37,000 words worth of Crowley being a confused mess at why Aziraphale’s finally reciprocating his love)

Auras by animefan021513 (T)

Aziraphale had noticed that at the Ritz, Crowley seemed like a huge burden was lifted off of his shoulders. Well, with the apocalypse averted, who could blame him, but he felt it was something else, but he was also worried about him. What happens when Crowley calls him at 2AM? What happens when Anathema wants to talk about their auras? How is Crowley able to explain angelic auras? What does Aziraphale find out about Crowley that he couldn't have even fathomed before? Why does Gabriel show up in Crowley's flat? Why does Michael show up AFTER him for a different reason? Why does God make an appearance and why didn't Crowley kneel or even bow to her!? Read and find out!?

The Art of Creation by Bookwormgal (T)

Once upon a time, long before humans set foot outside of Eden and long before his inelegant landing in a pool of boiling sulfur, Crowley had been an angel. An angel with a very different name and far less cynicism. And that angel was made to build Her creations. He built stars, nebulas, and other beautiful and complicated things far out there in the cosmos. He shaped fundamental elements and materials into new creations. He molded burning fires and sculpted dust into breath-taking patterns. He started bright and powerful reactions, serving as a catalyst to spark the birth of stars. He set various celestial objects spinning.

He built. He took raw materials and built wonderous things with them. He built because that was the role that She made him for. In the end, was rebuilding that much different than building? And wasn't rebuilding fairly close to healing?

When it was his angel's existence on the line, Crowley was willing to grab at any chance available. He would find a way to fix what had been damaged. He would find a way to save him.

How Clocks Stop by brutumfulmen (M)

Crowley stopping time had a price Aziraphale never knew he would be the one left paying.

Heed the archive warning!

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #sacrifice #self-sacrifice #angst #heed the warnings #mod d

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smoochkooks · 3 years

Text

—chapter two: of peonies and broken promises

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.4k words

summary: you are twenty-four, hopelessly in love with your best friend and the smell of peonies still makes you nauseous, just like it did eleven years ago.

previous || next

Jungkook's apartment is an epitome of him.

Wherever you look, you spot a piece of him. A single, wooden shelf in the living room where he placed all his analog cameras, because he loves photography. The replica of Van Gogh's Starry night hanging just above the navy blue couch, because he loves art. White walls of his bedroom decorated with movie posters; among them the newest addition to the collection: French Parasite poster you remember him buying recently. He traded stupid amount of money for it and you'd scold him for doing so if you didn’t know how much he enjoys cinematography.

Staring at this back as he makes coffee, you almost forget why you came her in first place. It's trivial: the latest software update on your laptop made it work more sluggish for some unknown to you reason. Jungkook has always been good with technology (hence his degree in digital art), helping you fix things on your laptop whenever the issue isn’t too complicated for him to deal with it on his own.

You feel a little embarrassed, asking him for help again (as if he wasn’t installing a new antivirus software for you a few weeks ago) but Jungkook beat you to it, assuring you it was absolutely fine before you could recite a round of apologies upon entering his apartment.

It’s just the way he is – the kindest, most selfless person you have ever met. Helping others seems to be etched into his brain for good.

“Here you go,” he says, placing a cup coffee in front of you. “I still haven’t quite figured out how the coffee machine works so I hope it doesn’t taste like shit.”

You smile, wrapping your fingers around the cup. Jungkook is a tea person, something he most definitely took after his mother, who has a separate cabinet in the kitchen filled with various kinds of tea. That’s why it’s so funny to you that somehow he insisted on buying a ridiculously expensive coffee machine a few months ago when he moved into his new apartment.

You wish you could focus on the delicate scent of his blueberry tea. You wish you could let yourself be overwhelmed by the aroma of your freshly made coffee. Anything.

Instead, all you can process is the intense, nauseous smell of the peonies standing right before you.

They’re definitely new, wrapped up prettily and ready to be gifted to someone special. Jungkook notices your lingering gaze, and clears his throat.

“Soojin's coming later today. They’re her favourite.”

He didn’t need to give any explanation to you. It’s his life, his girlfriend, his plans, her favourite flowers, her perfect boyfriend. You’re just you. Yet for some unknown to you reason, he felt and urge to mention it anyway.

“I didn’t peg you for the gentleman type.” you say to break the awkward silence. It’s anything but true, so Jungkook snorts in response.

“Aish, I always give you a single red rose for your birthday, Valentine’s Day and Women's day as well! And we know each other for eighteen years!” he reasons, somewhat defensive.

You force yourself to grin. “I know, I know. I was just fucking with you,” He huffs and takes a sip of his tea. As soon as he does that, he regrets it, muttering “Shit, it’s hot.” under his breath. “Soojin's lucky to have you.” you add.

Despite coming off as a confident person on daily basis, Jungkook gets insecure too.

You remember vividly the look in his eyes when he told you he didn’t deserve her. It was right at the beginning of their relationship, they were still getting to know each other and Jungkook couldn’t possibly understand why out of all the boys Soojin could date, she had chosen him. A digital art major who liked talking about cinematography and ate ramen at 2am in the morning when he couldn’t sleep.

Back then, you wished he could see himself with your eyes. For you, he was far more attractive than any guy you saw on campus. For you, he was talented, hardworking, passionate. No doubt Soojin fell for him.

But Jungkook was twenty-one back then. He lacked self-assurance he has now. It irritated you that he viewed Soojin as some sort of goddess who took pity on him. Although a lot has changed since, he still could quite literally kiss the ground she walks on.

You watch as a small tingle of blush covers the apples of his cheeks. Pink, just like the peonies standing before you. Pink, just like the flowers you hate so much.

11 years ago

June was beautiful that year. You spent most of your time after school in Jungkook's garden, seated by the wooden table and doing your homework.

His mother besides tea, loved planting flowers. And June was the month of peonies. There was so many of them, invading your senses with their sweet yet nauseous smell.

Jungkook was scribbling something in his notebook. You doubted it was anything Math-related, judging by the quick and harsh strokes of his pen. ‘’Do you know Sana?” he asked out of the blue, startling you.

“That new girl from Japan? What about her?”

“Jimin says she has a crush on me.” he answered, his eyes still glued to the paper. You noticed he was sketching some anime character's angry face.

Your eyes involuntarily widened. “How does Jimin know that?”

“Dunno. He told me he heard some girls talking about it in cafeteria the other day.” Finally, he dropped his pen and looked up. His brows were furrowed and he had a sour look on his face. “I don’t want her to have a crush on me.”

At that, your heart started beating faster. You were just fourteen and yet already so stupidly in love with your best friend. “Why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

You knew girls were checking out Jungkook here and there. He was a top athlete, had good grades and had grown at least ten centimeters taller over the year. He also had let his mother (and you) convince him to cut his hair shorter lately, getting rid of the emo fringe he was sporting for the past six months. Of course some pretty girl like Sana would have a crush on him.

Somehow, Jungkook had always been oblivious to that, or at least you thought so. This was the first time he decided to talk to you about it.

He sighed, looking away from you as if he was embarrassed all of a sudden. You could swear you saw his cheeks flush. “Because I don’t even like her. You’re the only girl I can stand being with.”

Now it was your turn to blush. As best as you could, you tried to ignore the funny, giddy feeling in your chest. “You know you'll have to marry some girl one day, right?”

“Then I’ll ask you to marry me,” Jungkook said and for the first time since he had started this conversation, he actually looked you in the eye. When he saw your shocked expression, he mumbled, “Maybe in like… ten years or something. Once we are out of college.”

You snorted, nudging his side. Despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you regained your composure. “Do you think I will put up with your for that long?”

“We know each other since we were six and you haven’t run away yet. Besides, I’m the only boy you aren’t scared to talk to.”

“Hey! That’s–Maybe it’ll change in the future! Maybe–”

Jungkook ignored you and instead thrusted his pinky finger in your direction. You stopped speaking right away. Pinky promises held little significance yet for some reason, you felt like it was a serious situation. And if the determined look on your best friend's face was anything to go by, he thought the same.

“If we don’t find anyone worth giving our heart to by the time we are twenty-five, let’s get married. Promise?”

You were astonished, to say the least, staring at this hand with wide eyes. You were only fourteen back then and to hear something like that from the boy you loved was like a teenage dream come true. You replied with blind devotion. Because there was only one, good answer to such question.

“Promise.”

You are twenty-four now, hopelessly in love with your best friend and the smell of peonies still makes you nauseous.

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #ksmutclub #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #my writing #an ode to a broken heart

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clarawatson · 3 years

Text

It Only Takes A Taste (2)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [Fem]!Reader (GN pronouns, fem coded) Summary: it’s your second time meeting Aaron. He’s still flustered and precious but he (might) manage to give you his number. W/C: 2113 Warnings: none yet! A/N: i haven’t got chapter names yet, just accept they’re all called ‘it only takes a taste’ haha. AO3 tags: @willowrose99 @genevievedarcygranger @maryosprinkle @kleff03 (if you want to get added, lmk!!) Where am I in this series? 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

The next time you meet him, it’s 2am. Rita’s three weeks off her due date. She’s been staying at Joe’s place, with his wife, because the heating’s gone out in her apartment and her super is a foul man. If you were inclined to murder, he’d be first on your list. Right now she’s out the back, trying to wipe chocolate sauce off her uniform. The baby’s been kicking for hours and knocks things around the counter sometimes. At least it isn’t throwing her ribs out this time.

There’s a couple of teens drinking milkshakes in the window, they’ve snuck out after bedtime and they’re giggling to each other about how bad they are. You’ve seen their parents drive by twice (they’re regulars after school) but no one’s come in yet.

The agent drives by, and then does a u-turn and comes back. It was literally a double take, no matter how you look at it. You clearly saw him slow down and try to look in the window as he tried (desperately tried) to stay on the main road. And then he’d turned around and come back.

He’s even prettier dry than he was wet. (Your mind spirals to where that could have gone, which is not something you expected from a 2am shift). He’s loosened his tie and his hair is falling free of the gel. He looks less tired, and yet more tired. A different kind of tired. This one would be fixed by a good night’s sleep.

“Hi,” he says with a little quirk in his lip that could be him fighting off a smile.

“Hi,” you return with a full smile. He sits in front of you and steeples his fingers under his chin.

“I’m Aaron.”

A fortnight you’ve been wondering his name and he just swans in and hands it to you on a silver platter. Bless him and his beautiful brown eyes.

“Y/n,” you introduce. “And what can I get for you tonight, Aaron?”

“Maybe not a coffee.” He doesn’t break eye contact with you. He has such a cheeky smile you almost want to reach over and wipe it off his lips. “A hot chocolate would do. I’ve got to sleep enough to take my kid to school.”

“Have here?” Your hands hover over the in-cups and the out-cups. He taps his finger against his chin.

“In.” He folds his hands and you notice he’s not wearing a wedding ring. Kid, no wedding ring, weird hours. Could be a score, could be a serial killer. Could be both! No. Not both. There will be no fraternising with serial killers. Not if you respect your life.

Would it be weird to ask him where he works? If he works for one of the alphabet soups, will it get you in trouble? Maybe. People don’t like you poking around when sensitive information could be involved. You still ask anyway while the coffee machine has it’s little dummy spit at having to work at two in the morning.

“Quantico,” he says. He probably saw you trying to figure out how to ask. And that’s really all he can say. Maybe. He waggles his eyebrows just a little and you think he’s maybe a little too cheeky for this early in the morning. If Rita was working she’d be swooning all over him.

“That’s very prestigious, but, sir, I don’t think you have the security clearance to be in this diner if you only work at Quantico. We deal with Area 51.”

“Long commute,” he teases.

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s what the uneducated think. I can break a few rules as long as you don’t start asking questions. No asking about where they keep the aliens, okay?”

“Never.” He wraps his hands around the mug as you push it to him, absorbing it’s warmth.

“Did your son like the cookie?” you ask. Is it weird to remember he has a son after one interaction? Or the cookie? But he smiles. It’s okay.

“He’s actually in love with it. He’s not stopped talking about it. I think my sister-in-law might kill me.”

“Joe’s magic in the kitchen. I’ll save a couple of cookies if you know when you’ll be in next?”

Is that too forward? Maybe. He pulls out a little day book and places it before him.

“Is Thursday too soon?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. You make a note to tell Joe you’re working on Thursday. “Sounds like a good day to collect a cookie.”

“If someone could cut this monster out of me, that would be GREAT!” Rita yells in the kitchen. Her voice is still far too loud out here. Aaron finally drops his gaze from yours, grinning into his hot chocolate.

“Shit, babes, I’m serious. I’ll got for a pocket knife at this point. I’m hot, and it’s not hot, I have to piss every four minutes, I can’t even sit in a car properly and taking the MET is stupid because I still have to pee!” She stops up short, seeing Aaron, and blinks as if she could erase her last comment. “Hi, sorry, you’re rain boy.”

“I prefer Raymond.”

There’s a beat where you try to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. The cheeky demeanor falls from his face.

“Rain Man! Tom Cruise! Smile." Aaron has no option but to smile at Rita. Too late you realise she's checking the alignment of his teeth to actually equate him to Tom Cruise. "Raymond, for sure. Shit, that’s funny,” Rita laughs, groans, and turns on her heel out the back. She needed to pee again. Aaron smiles just a little.

“Want some pie?” you offer. There’s still a bit left. Joe won’t be in for another hour or so, but there’s some in the oven to take out just before three. Aaron nods.

“Yeah, please.” He puts too much money in the tip jar again. Hands you the exact money for the pie. Had he looked at the menu online? Maybe he had. You take a slice out for him, then a slice for yourself. No harm in that. The whipped cream goes on his like a mountain. You put a bit beside your own pie slice, but Aaron’s grinning.

He looks like he may do something childish. He doesn't, though, as you join him in pie eating. The teenagers start giggling about something they're watching on their phone.

Rita comes back looking more tired than usual. Her whole body looks tired as she gets her purse and rubs her belly.

"Say bye to Rita," she says without much playful effort.

"Bye Rita," you return and kiss her cheek as she lifts it to you.

"And to Baby."

"Bye Baby, be good for Mom."

Rita snorts. Joe gives you a list of things to do while he's taking Rita home. Apparently Lola's coming in to replace Rita, but that's only going to be proven by Lola actually turning up. Aaron raises his hand around his fork and waves. Rita waves back and waddles out the back.

"Is she okay?" you ask Joe, and he nods. He waves goodbye to Aaron, even though he hasn't introduced himself yet. Aaron waves too.

"That's a lot to worry about," Aaron says. You shrug and reach over the counter to Aaron's plate, taking some of his cream. He laughs and puts his arm around it to protect it.

"They're family. Less worrying, more caring."

He nods as if he understands. "Might use that sometime."

"You're welcome to."

He gives you a smile that only uses half his face. Gosh, he's cute. But it’s nothing more than fleeting night time visits, right? Okay, maybe not, he clearly turned his car around because he saw you working. You catch him staring at your left hand, studying it intently. No one wore rings at the diner, just because everything got stuck underneath them and there was nothing worse than having a maple syrup adorned wedding ring.

“There’s no one,” you tell him, which flusters him entirely. He smiles and looks down at his pie, blush creeping over his face. “Weird hours in a place like this? Hardly a brilliant base to build a relationship on.”

“Yeah.” He might want to say more, but he’s smiling at you again. “Weird hours, strange place, know that story.”

“Sucks, hey?”

“Oh yeah.”

The teens from the window go home when they’ve finished their milkshake. You tell them to get home safe and pray their parents don’t come in asking where they went. Aaron scraps his plate, scooping up the cream and pie soupy mess.

“I have to go,” Aaron sighs. He runs his hand through his hair and his fingers get stuck in the left-over-gelly-mess. You smother a giggle as he rolls his eyes and pulls his hand out with tiny little crack-crack-crack’s. It sounds painful.

“I’m going to shower and get this shit out of my hair.”

“It’ll look nice without it in.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

He blushes, returning to the man you’d met coming out of the rain.

“Well I’ll remember that for next time.”

Your heart jumps. Next time! There’ll be a next! Time!

“Listen, hey, um,” Aaron says as he stuffs a couple of bills into the tip jar. “Here--” he stops again, then shakes his head like he’s giving himself a vote of confidence. “This is…” he stops again and licks his lips, then pulls out a business card from his suit pocket. He scratches his number onto the blank back, and then Aaron at the top. “My number,” he managed to finish.

“Thanks,” you respond before wanting to smack your head onto the counter. Thanks?!?! There are a hundred better things to say. “W-when do you want me?” When do you want me??? “To be here, on Thursday, for the cookies.”

Aaron’s gone red. Your face is hot. This is a disaster. There’s no fixing this disaster. There’s no fixing it at all. But Aaron smiles all the same.

“U-uh. I’ll text you?” he looks so flustered.

“You haven’t got my number,” you giggle, because he hasn’t. You’ve got his. He looks like a tomato as he blushes even more. “How about I text you my number, and you tell me when you’re free, and I’ll make sure there’s three cookies set aside for you that no one else buys.”

“Three?”

“You, your son, your sister-in-law.”

“I could really use you at work,” he laughs and… sits back down. Four seconds ago he was in such a rush to leave, and now he’s looking at you like you’re his whole world. He’s so precious, you wish you could just put him in a jar and protect all that goodness from the evils of the world. Surely he couldn’t have met too many of them just yet? He’s still got a smile that could brighten up the night sky, people who’ve seen all the hurt and pain in the world can’t smile like that.

“I don’t think I’m clever enough to get into Quantico. Unless they like people serving them coffees,” you smile gently and he tilts his head while looking at you. A curious puppy. You want to lean over and squish his cheeks for thinking you could be anything more than a server at a roadside diner.

“You’d brighten the place up.”

“You brighten my place up.” Corny, highschool grade flirting. He smiles all the same. Can he smile any more than that? Probably not, he might combust and become a star. “You know you don’t have to keep putting money into the tip jar, right? Not the amount you do. Most people just put in their change.”

He looks at the tip jar. “It’s for Rita’s hospital bills, right? It’s why she won’t look at it, because she’s embarrassed, but also why you and Joe count every bill that goes in it.”

“Alright, Sherlock Holmes.”

“It says on the jar,” he jokes, and points to the permanent marker that’s bled through the otherside of the tip jar. You laugh. Aaron laughs.

“I do have to go.”

“Go,” you laugh. “I’ll text you when I’m off my shift.”

He nods, looking a little sad to go, but also a little excited. He must really love his son.

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Y/n.”

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Aaron,” you return and watch him leave. Shit, he’s even cuter leaving. He even waves from his car before he drives off. You’re close to squealing when the bikie gang pull up, flooding the carpark, then all come in ready for their coffee. At least Aaron’s hot chocolate warmed up the machine for them.

#It Only Takes a Taste #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #diner!au

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themessengercrow · 3 years

Note

im feeling angsty...think you could do 10 angsty section for reader with bakugou?

(Yup and I hope you dont mind I changed the qoute just a lil) tw Angst

It was probably your third date with the number two pro hero Dynamight. Katsuki had to admit….it took alot to find you. Someone who didn’t care about his status as a hero-probably because you were one yourself. You hadn’t been raised at UA, you were a much smaller time hero and yet Katsuki didn’t mind that. For a man who always boasted for himself, to do his best, have the best, be the best, it came as a surprise to you that Katsuki was the first to ask you out and to ask for more than just some hookup. The way that he asked made him seem like a school boy all over again, eyes turned to the floor with a little bit of a blush tinting his cheeks. There was no doubt he found you attractive but there was something different about you-you’d challenge him on equal ground and continue to prove your own worth but even then-if Katsuki were to admit it he would say the reason why his eyes stayed glued to yours was because when he saw your eyes, all he saw was understanding. He didn’t find the same cruelty in your eyes like his mother did whenever she’d berate him or the disgusted look in peoples eyes whenever he was deemed too violent or angry to others. You almost seemed to understand him and yet calm him at the same time. Even if he wanted to admit it he really didn’t have the words. So, little restaurant dates until Katsuki can grow the nerve to ask you to be his partner more than just a date would have to do.

He wanted to do that tonight actually. He really did. You decided to wear the color scheme from his hero outfit-he knew you picked because of him, and the outfit did make his mouth water. But there was a sort of pride that swelled in his chest when he saw you proudly wearing his colors. Proudly showing off that you're his. Maybe not exactly his yet but-he wanted to change that.

“Bakugou if you keep being all flirty before we go into the restaurant reporters might see us you know that right?” You gently nudged his arm away from your waist with a huff. “Especially since we’re not officially together yet I doubt you’d want rumors going around.” Part of you still believed he just wanted to be a little nicer than ‘friends with benefits’. While you did have your own confidence as well as insecurities in the relationship-you knew that the field you both worked in would make a real relationship hard. You wanted to play into the nice role of a relationship but deep down part of you felt that it wouldn’t last. You knew it wouldn’t last. Why not enjoy it while it does though.

Neither of you expected a villain attack during your dinner. So of course-you go out there to fight unknowing and unprepared for the fight. It was only you and Katsuki-the attack started in the restaurant and thankfully you were able to get all of the civilians to safety while Katsuki distracted the villain. You still had a civilian with you, the poor person was hit by the villains’ quirk. Neither you nor Katsuki knew what the villains’ quirk was and the exit had been blocked. You guarded the citizen while Katsuki threw explosions left and right, hoping to tire out the villain.

You gently shook the person, hoping they would wake up soon. Their eyes shot open and they quickly sat up, looking to you “Pro hero (h/n) whats-” You watched as the person paused in the middle of what the were saying to stare at you, A misty look covered their eyes before it vanished; making it easy to assume it was most likely the quirk taking effect. You frowned and put a hand on the persons shoulder “There’s currently a villain attack going on-you were hit by the villains quirk. Can you tell me how you’re feeling so I can assist you properly?” The person blinked as they stared at you before frowning. “I’m sorry but-” You heard a crash from the other building, seeing Bakugou had been launched into a nearby wall, looking halfway to unconsciousness. “Dynamight!” you turned to the person “Go find a place to hide, i’m going to protect you.” You got up, blocking the person as the villain slowly walked over to you “Oh poor little hero-I just beat the number two pro hero and yet you still think you want to go up against me? Pathetic.” Quickly looking over him you noticed multiple gadgets on his person-this guy was smart enough to not just rely on his quirk. Which means he probably has a pretty weak quirk. You cracked your knuckles and shook your head “I don’t have to beat you I just need to stall you.” You used some of the debris on the ground for an easier launch attack at the villain, metal poured out of your pockets, manipulated by your work and turned into a staff, swinging it down on the villains torso. The villain had gone to do a roundhouse kick on you at the same time, the both of you launching each other to opposite sides of the room. You immediately got up and rushed back at the villain, continuing to fight while Katsuki was able to slowly get up and start charging an attack.

“(y/n) MOVE!” You turned to the right to see Katsuki charging up a huge blast. Your eyes went wide and you were quick to try to move out of range but the villain was quicker, grabbing your wrist and pulling you close. Katsuki immediately stopped the attack, keeping his hand aimed at you two he growled “Let em go...this is between you and me.” “No no-I think this is between you two.” He chuckled, a ball of light purple powdery dust manifested in his left hand, his right arm was wrapped around your neck, keeping you in a chokehold “little birds have been talking about you underground number two.” He smirked “This little ones your toy right? Lemme fix em for you, I banged them up in this little scuffle we had.” “Don’t you dare!” Katsuki shouted with a growl, making the man laugh.

“You know i’ve made people forget acquaintances and friends easily but lovebirds-depending how intense and deep your relationship was-It could take all night to forget you.” Katsukis brows furrow “(H/n) wouldn’t forget me. I wouldn’t let that happen.” “Really? My quirk sure does make it easier-” While he was distracted with talking to Bakugou, You had used your leftover metal to create a dagger, going to shove it into the arm around your neck. The man grabbed your wrist with his free hand, the purple dust absorbed into your wrist. “Let's put it to the test then shall we? If it takes i’d say...we’ve been fighting for quite a while. What time is it?” You had started to struggle at this point, making the man tighten his grip on your wrist. “Are you trying to play games with me? What did you do?!” Katsuki growled and the man shook his head “The time Dynamight, I didn’t ask for more questions just the time.” Katsuki snarled and glanced at the clock on the wall “...2:00am. Now stop playing games and just tell me-” “2am? My, we have been fighting for quite a while. I’m sure your backup is too scared to come in? No matter. If your little toy here forgets you when the sun rises, you could probably safely say, you two definitely have a strong bond. If you’re forgotten within the hour though…” He looked down at you still attempting to struggle even with your airway now cut off. He hit you hard on the back of the head, hoping to knock you unconscious. You groaned and limped forward, stars filtering your vision and yet you stayed awake. The man shoved you off of him and towards bakugou, immediately stepping back and pulling out a large metal ball from his pocket “You bastard!” Katsuki screamed as he caught you, trying to make sure you were safe while he launched an attack on the man. It was too hard to comprehend anything, all of the lights were just too bright, all of the sounds were too noisey-everything was just too much. You could hear Katsuki shouting so you grabbed his shirt, tugging it and mumbling a “did you get him?” He looked down at you, the smoke clearing revealed the villain had gotten away and you did not look to be in good condition. “Hey...hey look up at me.” He shook you a little and you groaned, lowering your head further at the ache pounding against your skull. He frowned and gently rubbed your back “Hey look up at me, I gotta make sure your ok.” He spoke softly now. “Can’t you just say what you want to say with my head like this? I feel like im going to forget after I knock out from this headache...this hurts..” “hey no you’re not forgettin shit got it? It’s that assholes quirk-we can always go to recovery girl to fix things-you gotta look up at me so I can make sure you don’t have a concussion.” He gently started to pet your head, noticing how much you relaxed to the touch. You slowly nodded and looked up at him, as soon as you made eye contact with him he nodded a sort of mist float in your eyes, almost like tv static before they went to normal again...almost normal.

“Who are you?”

#bnha #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #x reader #bakugou x reader angst #crowsfallenfeathers

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suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

Text

Running Through My Dreams - A duet (l.h)

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Fem! Reader

Summary: based on Remembering Sunday by All Time Low. A conversation with flashes of the past

Warnings: Angst. Language. Mentions of death (non graphic) Mentions of Alcohol. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language and I did not proof read this, I’m sorry)

Word count: 2k

Author’s Note: Just experimenting with sad topics and a new form of writing. Hope everyone can understand bc formatting this was a nightmare. Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You have no idea how much they help 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My Materialist // wanna be part of my taglist?

How to read: Bold: Luke; Italics: Reader. Together

This might work better on mobile.

I woke up alone again in the middle of the night, it’s the third time this week.

I’ve been leaving the bed early

hoping you’ll get used to it.

I stay long enough, always leaving

after 2AM

The pillow doesn’t smell like her anymore. It hasn’t for a long time. She thinks I don’t notice

I knew you would.

But everyday I feel her pull farther away from me.

It wasn’t always like this

But I knew it would come to

this.

Still,

I needed to move on

What time is it? It can‘t be too late, it’s only past 2 AM and my head is killing me. What did I do?

The bottle near the bed should

serve as an answer

Fuck.

Where is she?

Sunday seemed so far away, but it’s only been a couple of days. You’ve been staying at his place, claiming that your apartment needed some fixing that the landlord promised to do, but that you needed to go back every morning just to make sure everything was in place.

You just never told him how early you’d be there. Making him wake up to an empty bed.

You woke up with the smell of bacon, cursing at yourself for letting sleep take over you last night. You didn’t mean to stay but what’s done is done.

Luke was standing in the kitchen, chest bare as he cooked the eggs the way you liked them.

You always knew me more

than I knew myself

“Good morning, love” He said when he saw you standing, almost hiding behind the door to the kitchen.

He smiled, and god you wished you could hate it.

“Morning,” You mumbled, clearly not in a good mood. Morning always did that to you. But Luke didn’t mind, he still smiled and placed a kiss on your cheek as you took a seat on one of the chairs.

“Do you need to go today?” He asked, placing your breakfast in front of you.

I always hated when she had to leave

You would’ve hated me more

if I stayed, even if I wanted to

Maybe it was the look in his eyes that made you weak. Those baby blues haunted you from the very start and you found yourself unable to say no to them. That’s why it was easier to leave when he slept.

“I can stay if you want”

She could’ve stayed forever.

He smiled bigger than before, pulling your chair closer to him as he kissed you softly. You melted against him as the sirens in your head went off. You couldn’t let this happen.

I could’ve told her that I loved her, I knew I did.

Do you even know what love is?

She never believed in it. She was afraid to get close, but I knew she felt it, too. How could she not?

There was something there.

Something I didn’t know was

possible

Something I felt all along.

But it’s late, or early and she hasn’t responded. Maybe

I got it all wrong

She must be there, somewhere. She might be alone. And I’m here.

You are where I want you to be

Where did she go? The girl I fell in love?

You laugh bounced through the walls as he chased you down.

“Luke!” You half cried, half laughed “Stop!”

But he only got closer, tickling your sides every time he could catch you on a corner.

It was just a game, just a moment for the two of you where you could just be yourselves. You didn’t get much of that before.

Luke smiled at the sound of your giggles, feeling as if the melody of them could very much be the soundtrack of his own happiness. He felt a bolt of electricity with every light touch, gracing his fingers carefully upon your skin to make sure he’s not hurting you. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you.

But did I ever? Maybe without knowing.

Your skin was on fire wherever he touched, leaving a scorching trail as his movements slowed down. The tickles now became caresses as you let your body rest against a wall, sighing softly when you felt his fingers trail up your sides.

The goosebumps started to appear the moment you felt his breath near your lips. His head hung low, letting his forehead rest against yours as you looked into his eyes.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. You knew by just a look where this was going and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want to let it happen.

Your hands flew to the back of his head as you pulled him into you, letting your lips capture his in a needed kiss.

You parted your lips when you felt his grip tighten on your waist, letting him deepen the kiss as he deem fit and making his tongue tangle with yours as he swallowed your moans into his mouth.

His body was against yours, pressing it to the wall and making you feel all of him as he covered your body completely. Never once letting your lips go until you gasped for air.

The look in both your eyes was clear as lust consumed your bodies. You pulled on his hand, smiling as you led him into the bedroom.

It was beautiful at the start

At the start we didn’t know

I should go to her, tell her I love her and that I’m sorry for anything I might’ve done.

You always took the blame

where there wasn’t one.

With the memories still playing inside his head, Luke got up from his place on the bed, instantly falling to the floor with his knees scraping against the carpet.

He didn’t know why his legs failed him when he tried to reach you, understanding that you were far away from where you were supposed to be.

She should be here. I need her here.

Luke got dressed as soon as he could. He knew he was too intoxicated to drive, he didn’t want to put anyone in danger; so he decided to walk.

He took his phone with him, smiling slightly when he noticed a missed call from you.

Why aren’t you picking up? Don’t you want to see me?

You were the only one who

could see me

I’m coming. I’ll find you. I know it’s not

It is

Too late

Your apartment building was just a few miles away, but Luke’s thoughts ran faster than he could. In his head he knew what to say once he saw you, once he made sure you were okay.

He had to tell you that he loved you, that he wouldn’t run away. He will give you all the time you need but, please.

Come back to me

The buttons all seemed the same to him, the names on the tags were too faded to even try and read them. But he knew your place by heart.

The second button to the left, just under the one who got a spot of red paint on it. It was the only apartment you could afford when you moved, but you loved it nonetheless.

He called, and called, and called, and called.

But the more he pressed the button, the more hopeless he felt.

Are you there? Can you hear me? I’m here. I’m here and I’m not leaving, not unless you want me to.

I don’t want to, but you will

Desperate, he starts pressing the buttons of your neighbors, hoping maybe one of them would let him in.

“I will call the police” Your upstairs neighbor said.

“Please,” Luke begged “I just need to speak with Y/N”

“Who?”

The man hung up. Luke tried another button.

“Anne?” A lady spoke.

Luke sighed “No, but I need to get into the building. My girlfriend needs me and it’s starting to rain, could you let me in, please?”

“Oh, sure, honey” The sweet lady said, opening the door for him.

Luke thanked the careless woman as he entered the building just before the few droplets of water fell upon his jacket.

He got up the stairs, skipping two steps as he tried to reach you as soon as possible. To hell with his dizzy head just as long as you were safe.

“Y/N?” He called, banging on your door loud enough to wake you up, but not too loud to disturb your neighbors.

I know you’re there

I know you’re here

“Y/N! Please let me in!”

He kept on banging, each one louder than the last one. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his concern grew with every second you were not answering the door.

It’s been days since he’s seen you. Days since you left after Sunday. Days since he’s been sober because you ignored him after telling him it was over, without any explanation as to why.

I’m not going to

Give up

I’m not going to answer

I have to tell her that I love her.

I wish I could tell you why

She’s my dream

A nightmare, perhaps

I don’t want to

You have to

Wake up

“Is there anything I can help you with?” A couple dressed in robes stood outside their door.

Luke stared at your neighbors for a while before he could respond. He dried the tears off his face before saying.

“My girlfriend, she hasn’t been answering her phone-“ He didn’t care that his voice sounded broken when his whole spirit was shattered “I- I mean, I just want to make sure that she’s okay because I need to talk to her. Have you seen her?”

The couple looked at each other, the man sighed.

“Are you sure you got the right door, son?” He asked.

Luke furrowed his brows, checking the number placed at the door one more before nodding.

“Oh, dear” The woman said emphatically “The lady that lived there moved”

“What?”

“She's been moving her stuff for days now, but I think tonight she made the big move and took off. She even left us the key for the landlord when he came” The woman signaled her husband and he disappeared into their home for a few seconds before appearing again with the key in hands “I’m so sorry, darling”

Luke shook his head. This was not possible, you couldn’t be….

Gone

“Do you want to check for yourself?” The man asked, handing Luke the key to your apartment.

He thanked the couple and apologized for the disturbance.

This can’t be true.

But what if it is?

She would’ve told me

I never told you how I felt

And now it’s

It can't be

Too late

Luke opened the door to your apartment, holding back a breath as he realized it was completely bare.

All your stuff were not there anymore. Not a picture or furniture that could prove your existence, not even a ghost that could testify that someone lived there once. A someone that he had loved.

He walked to the middle of your small living room, letting his eyes scan for anything that you might’ve left behind. Something that he could hold on to so he knows you’ll be back, or at least something that could tell him where you went.

The rain fell against the bare window, letting the shadows of the droplets racing through the glass plaster against the wooden floor, mirroring Luke’s tears as he realized that

I’m not coming back

Not like you expect me to

Why did she leave?

I thought it was for the best

But I regretted it the

moment I stepped into the

car

She could’ve come to me

I was coming back to you

I called and you didn’t

answer. So I tried again.

I swear i didn’t see that truck

coming my way.

Y/N

It all happened so fast

Y/N….

I’m not coming back

No….

I was terrified. But then

I was

I want to be

With you

Luke

I can’t understand

I did something so terrible

Could you…

Forgive me

I tried to find home when

home is where you are.

Now I’m in the clouds

I just need to know that you’re

I’m

Okay

I’ll be with you

But you won’t see me

I wished I could tell you how much I loved you

You already did

“Luke?”

The blonde man jumped at the sound of Ashton’s voice. He was standing in the middle of the field, letting the rain tower over him as he woke up from his nightmare.

It’s been three days since he stood in your apartment. Three days since he got the call from the hospital. Three days of unstoppable rain and grey clouds that seemed to be following him since the day he lost you.

Now, he stood in a black suit, letting his eyes wander over the carved letters of your name once again.

“Are you okay? Is there something you want to do? Something we can do?”

He stood still.

“I really thought I would marry her”

His band mates stood right by his side this whole time, never letting him out of sight. Letting their hearts break with him.

Calum placed a hand on his shoulder.

“She loved you, Luke. She would’ve want you to keep going”

Luke smiled sadly, “I always loved her more”

After a few minutes, Luke asked them to leave him alone with you to say goodbye.

He kneeled in front of the marble that laid on the ground, completely damped from all the rain, and smiled softly.

“I might never understand why you did it, why you ran, why they took you away from me far too soon when your car was headed back here… But, I know you were scared and I don’t blame you for that, you were always braver than me, even when you were afraid. You’ll have a lot to explain when we meet again, love, and I promise I won’t let you go when that happens. But until then, I’ll see you Sunday”

I’ll be here.

I love you

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @matchacal @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @major5sosstan @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash @alltimesos @girlwhosimps @wontlastimokwiththat @ttinahood @kingxnichole @givebuckyhisplumsnow @hufflehemm @wildflower98

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leahseclipse · 3 years

Text

Thnks fr th Mmrs - (Event Fic)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Warnings: Not that I am aware of. (Please let me know if something should be added later on.)

Summary: Just two idiots in love, but none of them have the guts to say it. Eventually one of them will do it, a bit late tho- but, better now than never.

A/N: HELLO!! Here I am, roughly one month after my last fic, this work got all of us busy, which lead to a bit of panic on the last days, but (I think) we made it all in one piece.

This work is part of the Fic Swap organized by @imagining-in-the-margins, with the help of @sunlight-moonrise! I’ve had the opportunity to write for @spencer-reid-in-a-pool- which is AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, I love her so so so so much. This was awesome to do. (And yeah, for those who got the ref, the title is from one of fob's songs. I had NO other idea and found this one cool.)

Word Count: 8.7k

As much as I wished for it not to haunt me another day— I still had this one problem, written into my brain with bright red ink, unwashable, as it seemed.

I hated to recall that it still remained there, as if it was an unsolved case that someone would have put into archives and brought back up when they were clearing out the shelves.

Unfortunately, it didn’t get lost, I just forgot it was there, and my brain had the wonderful idea of presenting it back to me.

I appreciate it. That was— quite nice.

It wasn’t that I hated it, I just didn’t like the thought of having to deal with it at barely eight in the morning, just before actually dealing with the problem itself— in person.

That problem—couldn’t be someone else but the only one Spencer Reid, the resident genius of the team, or the baby sibling for some of my co-workers.

Once again, I do not dislike him, on the contrary, he’s one the closest person I have in my life to this day, I wouldn’t imagine my life without him.

The problem is mainly directed towards the love, sentimental kind of problem.

Especially when the concerned person isn’t aware of it.

It gets complicated when you can’t even hide your feelings when they’re near.

I get all nervous and weird when he’s in sight, the proofs are right there.

I remember them all, from the time I broke a mug when I tried to reach it as he was talking or when I almost fell down the stairs when he came in to work one day, looking like a literal god— and wasn’t even aware of it, the list keeps going on for miles.

And I’m still there, sitting with my feelings, waiting for something to happen.

I’m not even sure that he feels the same way.

I’m here, admiring him, thinking about what could happen if I could resolve myself to talk about it, if he felt the same way, but strangely and for an unknown reason; I can’t.

This issue has been happening all week, the last one, and probably the whole month.

It took me time to figure it out myself.

I only saw us as two good friends at first; we’d hang out together, had the same hobbies, have long conversations without caring about the time, to the point that people would think that we were together.

But I guess that I never realized that he could be more than just a good friend.

And as it couldn’t be more complicated, in these cases, if none out of the two dares to make a move, or talk, it won’t go much further.

Which is exactly what’s been happening at this moment..

I’ve been liking him for a while now, and my brain doesn’t know to do anything else but attack me with as many questions they can come up with at the same time whenever I dare to think about it.

What if he does like me, but only as a friend?

Is it going to be awkward between us?

Am I going to lose my friendship with him because of that?

What if he says no?

What am I left with? My stupid feelings that will keep wandering around, reminding me of my love failure?

If all of these are the things waiting for me till I decide to stop bottling it up, I better have to solve that, soon.

But at the same time, if I take a glance at the negative side, I’m just thinking that it’d be better to keep our friendship as it is, and just pretend as if he’s only a good friend I’m quite close with, not a possible lover.

Since when did I allow myself to see him as that? I wasn’t doing that before.

What caused my feelings to suddenly appear?

He’s always been nice to me, as with everyone else he’s close with, and as far as I’m aware of it, no one’s been in my situation.

If it ever happened, I’m sure that it was purely platonic and didn’t go as far as I’m at.

It’s as bad as a math problem.

Kind of ironic, considering I both suck at figuring out how to say I love someone, deal with feelings, all that love stuff; and at maths.

But, as I think about it further, he didn’t do anything to keep me from crushing on him either, even if he probably didn’t do it because he liked me.

There’s a 50% possibility.

He’d take me in his arms to reassure me, help me with paperwork when I was tired, offer to drive me home, re-filled my mug for me, act close, and by close- not as close as he is with the others.

A different kind of close.

So...who wouldn’t think that way, that he could like me?

He could possibly like me, but about that, I don’t have a single clue to know if he really does.

I do want to try to ask him, in one way or another, but the thing is that , if he doesn’t like me, what is going to happen next?

Awkward silence?

Is he going to try to reject me as nicely as possible to not hurt my feelings?

It could be really nice if anything would help me to make all of this mess any clearer.

I don’t want to end up drawing away from him because I can’t help but be in love with him whenever I look at him, but at the same time, I can’t say that I am, in case he’s not in love with me.

Spencer’s one of the most important people in my life; I wouldn’t imagine a day where I wouldn’t talk to him, and even if we’re busy, I try to say hi to him, at least.

I can’t quite imagine not having him ramble about his favorite subject, happy as hell because I’m interested, listening to him, and even participating in it.

I don’t want all of this to stop because of a mistake I could cause.

So, this week will be the one.

I’ll somehow resolve myself to bring up the subject.

I’m sure he’ll understand, he knows me better than anyone else in the whole team, has always been there when I needed someone, he’s always listened when I needed to talk, he helped me out with a lot of issues.

He’s always been understanding, whether the issue would concern him or not, so this shouldn’t be a big problem.

It’ll be fine.

I just have to relax sometimes.

I’m stressing out too much, and I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t stress that much about that, or any subject he might think about.

I even wonder if Spencer already noticed the changes in my behavior and is just waiting for me to talk about it because he doesn’t dare to talk about it as well.

He could feel the same way.

He could.

There’s a chance, a good one, I guess.

It can end well, and I have to keep thinking about the good outcome.

There’s no way he’d react badly, I know him,— Spencer is not the kind of guy to do that, in general.

I trust him on that.

So, today...or later, will be the right one.

It’ll go well.

It’ll be win or lose, basically.

I sighed as I looked at myself for the hundredth time for the past ten minutes, finally resolving myself to leave the apartment before I’d end up being late.

Which isn’t something I’d like to happen.

My ‘love problem’ counts as at least ten problems more than getting yelled at by a superior (if I’m not overreacting, at least) so I don’t really need that to happen, on top of that.

I have never been delighted to walk into the office, only to find paperwork from last week waiting for me.

We usually had the whole ‘Garcia runs into the office and throws papers at us before we gather in the conference room and immediately go on a jet at whatever unpleasant hour’ or just purely lazy days where none of us have the strength for any kind of celebration.

But today happened to be a calm one, we just had to do whatever task we had left to do before we can allow ourselves to go back home to either sleep all day to fix our long broken sleep schedule, or do whatever event we might come with, such as dates or trying to find a guy in a party, for some of us.

It’s nice that we don’t have to worry about when we’ll be able to come back to work, we just go in, do our task and go home at whatever hour, a decent one.

I’d say that this happened to be more than convenient -in a way- for Spencer and I.

More time for talking, hanging out together, mostly what we do when not on an active case.

If I’m not mistaken, I think that I may have heard one of them saying that we were dating because of how frequently we’d be found together.

I did want to say we were dating as a joke, but I was afraid that it’d end up being awkward after that if- as said earlier when I woke up-, he didn’t feel the same.

But at the same time, whether he feels the same way or not, I don’t really have a reason to think about that as Spencer wouldn’t react badly.

Knowing him, he’d probably play along.

At my arrival at the bureau; everyone was scattered a bit around; which wasn’t to be seen on a case day, usually.

We just had to hope we wouldn't have a surprise case to ruin it all.

As I greeted everyone before settling at my desk, I noticed one person missing.

Spencer wasn't usually late, so...I didn't really know what might make him late.

Knowing him, he may have woken up late because he had watched tv till 2AM, and ran to the coffee shop to not look dead at his arrival.

Yep, that’s him.

Let’s hope he won’t break a bone when he’s going to attempt to run to not be late, it’s...yeah.

So, don’t rush Spencer, it’s calm as hell here, you don’t need a trip to the ER so soon in the morning.

“Oh, hey!”

I turned around to be faced with Spencer, papers in hand. “When did you get there? I didn’t see you when I arrived like...five minutes ago. I thought you weren’t here yet.”

“Oh, I was doing copies. I’m sorry if I worried you, I should have sent a text.”

“No- It’s okay, don’t worry. You’re here...now.”

“Yeah, I’m here. Do you have a lot of paperwork? Figured out we could talk in between.” He asked.

“No, I don’t have a lot, and...sure, I could use a talk- I mean uh...talk, yeah.”

That was a shitty save.

“I’m glad, I didn't want to bother you if you were busy.”

“Even if my whole desk was covered in papers, you know I’d always find a minute to talk. I get easily distracted.”

Please don’t take it the ‘love’ way, or just...don’t think I get distracted by you in a ‘not-a-friend’ way— gosh, I’m not gonna be able to save it with whatever sentence.

“You know that’s the same for me. I always have a hundred subjects popping up just when I try to focus.”

“Yeah, same. It’s a bit...annoying.”

“Depends. It’s not really when you’re in them.” Spencer admitted.

Is this an attempt at killing me right on the spot? You’re really going to kill me by being so damn nice.

“Oh...really? I didn’t know.”

That was shit.

“Well uh...now you do that it’s not always annoying up there and that’s your part of the non-bothering stuff.” He pointed out.

“That’s the- same for you, yeah.” I answered, slightly nervous.

“Didn’t know we had that too in common, that’s funny.”

Not so sure about the other detail you don’t know about-

“We learn new stuff everyday at least. I guess it’s...useful to know? I don’t know.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, there’s not much to do with that information, it’s more of a...fact thing-y. You know I like that stuff.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Who doesn’t?”

“Yeah, everyone does at this point, but that’s a quarter of what they know, I think that you’re the only one that knows the most about me, not everyone.”

You have to stop before I drop dead on the floor right now.

“I have to remind you that it’s kind of the same for you.”

“People are definitely thinking we’re together at this point, we’re pretty close so they have every right to believe that.”

“Does it...bother you?”

“Oh, no, not really. You’re a pretty girl so that’s kind of...nice that they think that a nerd like me could be in a relationship with you.”

Okay, I just stopped functioning right now.

What am I supposed to even say? You’re a literal god, you’re handsome as HELL-

“Oh- you’re uh- good looking so, that’s...normal I guess.”

“You think so?” He asked, unsure.

Oh, please. Tell me you’re kidding, it’s impossible that no one hasn’t told you of your AMAZING handsomeness, the fact that you’re amazingly-

Yeah, we got it y/n.

“Yeah, really.” I confirmed.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“No problem, Spence.” I said, as we both went to our respective tasks.

At least I avoided a heart attack, that’s what matters, he just has to stop being so cute and pretty, all the time because I’m gonna have trouble acting like I’m not in fucking love with him if he keeps going.

Just- breathe, and focus on your work.

We’re gonna talk together, and it’s gonna be okay.

There’s no reason that a problem would occur, I just had a talk with him, and it went...almost perfectly smooth.

The ‘almost’ part is when I almost had a heart attack, which isn’t the first I’ve had with him, and won’t be the last.

If he would just stop being so handsome all of the time.

I sighed, reading the paper all over again as I lost focus...again.

As I was reading, my pen in hand and the tip of it slightly touching the sheet— I didn’t even realize that I had been scribbling on the paper, as if I was in middle school and bored in class all over again.

It was kind of….fun.

I didn’t get to do that everyday, so I’d say that it was diversifying compared to any other stressful day where these...doodles wouldn't even happen or to be thought about because of the amount and importance of the work.

I still think about him, even when I’m busy as hell though.

He’s always in my thoughts, I don't know how he does it because I’m pretty sure I don’t do that with anyone else in the bureau.

Is that kind of over thinking considered as an obsession or not at this point? I’m not quite sure of it anymore, but...it's not "psychopath, stalker-like", he's just an important person that matters to me.

I just really like him, that’s all.

He also told me that I tend to be in his mind often, so...I guess we're even.

I guess so.

“Hey, is everything...okay? You’ve been staring blankly for a...while. Is that my-” He started to point out.

I panicked, quickly hiding the papers with other ones. “What? Oh, uh...I was-” I blurted out. “...thinking.”

“You’ll probably have to...print out new ones. I don't think Hotch will accept papers with scribbles, you know. I can print out some copies for you, if you want?”

“No- It’s fine, I can go, thanks for asking! It’s nice of you but uh- I’m going.” I answered, as I abruptly clicked back on the software to print out copies, and walked to the breakroom after...awkwardly waving.

Why the hell was I scribbling down his name like I was...a middle schooler having a crush on her classmate?

I have no idea why, but this was...kind of embarrassing at the moment.

I seriously have to stop worrying about each thing that happens.

He probably didn’t care as much as I did.

I shook my head as I arrived in the breakroom, now empty as Luke and Matt had previously left from what I saw a bit ago when I looked in that direction.

I didn’t mind, at least I’d avoid embarrassment because of how weird my expression probably looks.

So, everyone, please don’t come now, wait until I pick up my papers, that’d be more than appreciated.

Should I call Spencer?

I don’t want to be a bother, I know he enjoys spending time alone off work.

Would he be happy to hear me?

I don’t know.

I’ll call him later, if I’m settled on it.

I’ve been pacing in that small apartment of mine for at least the last couple of minutes, or maybe an hour, I don’t have the habit of noting the duration of my nonsense usually.

I don’t even know why I’m pacing again and again just to decide about a call.

I’m sure he doesn’t even do that.

Does that mean it makes me...crazy?

Not necessarily.

It could.

Maybe.

I’ll just- whatever.

Do something useful like cleaning your apartment and answering emails, and you’ll see if you have a minute to spare to call Spencer.

That works that way.

See, you can stop stressing.

Just do another task to distract yourself and have less things to worry about, so it’ll be easier to decide about the ‘call matter’ thingy.

I did not call him, if that’s what anyone wondered.

The only call I made was with Penelope, after she called me numerous times to ask me about the books we’ve been yelling about for a few weeks.

I had supposed she had also wanted to talk about Spencer, as the whole office had been conspiring about our possible relationship.

But, she held it off, and cut the call after saying ‘I better hang up or I’ll be talking about the book for another decade’.

Kind of looks like me and my thoughts with Spencer.

I hope I’ll get to let all of those out, if we ever have the chance to have a talk about the feelings matter.

I never had that many ‘things matters’, I’m even inventing some new words along the way.

Crazy what love can do, if that’s what started it.

I can’t recall that either, I’ve been more focusing on the matter itself than the name of it.

Love will do, I guess.

“What are you up to?” I asked, peering over Spencer’s desk.”

“Well, technically...nothing new. I’ve been reading that for the past week, I tend to do that with books I really like.” He closed it, looking at me. “Is that weird?”

“Not at all. I’m doing the same with shows and movies, and even- who cares if it’s weird? If we like doing that, we don’t have to worry about what others might think about it.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t worry that much.”

“I worry about small things too, you’re not alone on the ride.” I pointed out, sitting back at my desk.

“Glad to know I have someone I’m sure won’t judge on that.”

“I would never judge you on anything, well- aside from the ‘sugar’ matter we’ve been having for a while, nothing else.”

“You’ll be debating about it for a while then. I’m not about to stop having my ‘sugar with my coffee’, as Morgan says.”

“The amount you put in it is disgusting.”

“Not to me.”

“Well it is to me, and probably everyone else. How do you not get sick?”

“No idea. I’ve been doing that for years and never had problems of any kind. Maybe you’re all the ones that are weird.”

“Hey! You’re weird too. If you wouldn’t be, I wouldn’t be talking with you.”

“I’m less weird than you, at least.”

“Pff. Just get back to work, weirdo.”

I love you, weird genius.

No, I didn’t get to talk to him about the…’love matter thingy’.

We did spend a lot of time together but I didn’t get the nerve to find a way to ask, instead of going straight to the thing.

I have no idea if I was imagining things or if it was real but...he did look a lot like me, and...his look wasn’t the kind of look you’d give a friend.

He also seemed...nervous, I guess?

Would it be wrong for me to think that he could possibly like me, as well?

That’s better than always thinking he doesn’t, a little hope doesn’t hurt, it’s always nice to think on the bright side for once.

Maybe I could be right.

I kind of hope I am.

I didn’t think till now that it would be such a relief to see my whole desk cleared from most of the papers.

I’ve turned in most of my reports- and that kind of sounds like I’m talking as if I’m in school and turning in assignments at the end of the day to be honest.

All of the papers that laid around were gone, and it kind of seemed like the work day had reached its end.

It kind of was a nice day, it’s nice to have days like that from time to time to take a break from all of the stress and shit from cases.

As I had gathered back all of my stuff, and all that was in mind was to walk out of here and rush to my apartment.

Just as I turned around, Spencer was standing in front of me; I didn’t even see him come by.

“You- gosh, you really scared me. Speak up next time.” I said, nervously laughing.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to- Did you uh...get hurt?”

“No, I didn’t have- get anything. I’m okay, thanks- Are you going home too?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am and...I also-”

“You also…?”

“I wanted to talk to you...again, about something.”

I feel like that ‘something’ might be the ‘something’ I’ve been wanting to talk to you about for weeks.

“Uh, go ahead, I guess. I can’t really start the conversation as I have no idea what it’s about…”

“Okay, uh...I’ve been uh, wanting to ask, for a while, if you wanted to hang out, sometimes. I know we do, pretty often, but I’d be like...hanging out together, maybe dinner...” He looked elsewhere, searching for his words.

“...you mean a date? Is that...what you want to say?”

“Yeah, that! I just- I thought I’d be weird to ask you, just like that. I mean...it’s kind of random and I thought that- you understood the thing.”

Please, that’s what I’ve been thinking about for a decade, how could I not understand that-

“It’s not weird, I’m just...surprised?”

“Oh, I’m- glad? I just...didn’t think you’d accept and...I was kind of afraid that I’d make a fool of myself by asking you that.”

“Wait a minute though- You’re really asking me out, right now? I’m not making fun of you, it’s just still...wow.”

I just thought you would never do it, or that I’d be the one asking and receiving a negative answer.

“I swear that I’m not. I’d never joke about that, especially to you, and since I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I guess I was afraid of the answer.”

“Please don’t laugh, or anything but...kind of the same thing was happening to me, about you.”

“So...we’ve been thinking about it, and none of us knew? Wow, that’s...I didn’t think that was happening all this time.”

“Seems so.”

“Have you been uh...thinking about it for a while, like me?”

“Kind of...yeah. I’ve...liked you for a while but, didn’t think you’d be interested. I’ve had a lot of male friends that were acting like you, but weren’t interested in me, so I thought...that was the case.” I admitted.

“You have no idea how much I appreciate you, and not only in a friendly way. I’ve liked you for a bit, and as I said, I was afraid of what you’d say, so...I told myself that waiting for the right moment would be better.”

“....yeah, same. I don’t think we’d ever get to have a conversation about it but- did you uh...resolved yourself to do it because of…”

“..the paper thing? Yeah, and no. It’s been on my mind for a bit. I just thought this would...kind of- be the right moment. I know that it's not the ideal place, but I just thought, it’s now or never.”

“At least...it’s cleared out?” I asked.

“Yeah, it is. I’m glad we know about...the feelings stuff and all.”

“You have no idea how I am. This is- wow, sorry, this was kind of sudden, and I...didn’t think that’d happen. Just this morning I thought about talking about it somewhere this week and now- did you read my expression or something and guessed or…? Because just as I thought about it, you talked to me.” I explained.

“I guess so. I’ve been thinking about it for a bit, and...I didn’t want to wait more as I wouldn’t have ever talked, as for you.”

“Would you have waited another week for me to tell it or would you have stepped in before?”

“I think it would have depended on where we would be. Because, if we were outside, I think that I would have preferred something nicer than a bureau, you know. Even if I like it, to be honest. But, I wouldn’t say it’s the best setup to ask someone on a date?”

I shrugged. “Not the best, but, it’s better than- I don’t know...a grocery store or something?”

“Yeah- it’s better.”

“At least you’ll get a better shot at asking me out on another date after that one.”

“I’ll definitely do better.”

“I trust you on that one. But- I want to home right now though, I kind of miss my couch...and my fridge, maybe.”

“I’m with you on both ones- after you.” Spencer offered, as the elevator opened, stepping in after me.

“Be careful with the whole gentlemen thing, you’re gonna have to bring me coffee everyday soon.”

“I’m already doing that with mine, bringing yours won’t hurt. You’ll probably have a bill at the end of each month.”

“In your dreams, Reid.”

The care that had been put by Spencer on our first date was truly amazing.

It looked like he planned it months ago, it could almost be seen as a kind of proposal if someone else would see it.

He insisted on picking me up himself, did not tell me a single thing about where we were going till we were there, which was weird...but made it exciting and fun.

I have to say that I was...quite nervous too.

I never even thought that I’d be here, on a literal date with Spencer Reid himself; I’ve had dreams about it, thought about it, but never thought it’d actually happen.

None of this was a joke, he was more than serious about it.

I don’t think that even one thought I had looked like this moment, he insisted for it to be an awesome first date we’d both remember for a while, and I wish it could have lasted longer.

Time went by, way too fast that when we both saw the time, it was already 10PM.

As we could have work, and that sleeping early would be convenient if we happen to be called in early, we decided to end the night there, even if none of us really wanted to.

“We should stay in next time. That way we won’t be tired, you know. It’s kind of late.” Spencer pointed out, as we walked to my place.

“You sure? It’s gonna be Grey’s Anatomy or whatever cheesy tv show I watch for the night.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll probably try to point out the mistakes, it’ll be like...a game night you know.”

“Oh, yeah. It could. But, I think I’m gonna be the one to lose as the only ‘medical knowledge’ I have from that show is from that show. And, as Google isn’t to be trusted, I’m gonna lose.”

“It could also include a...spot cheesy moments thing.”

“Season one is full of it. We’re gonna have a lot to talk about. I would have proposed Star Trek but apparently, there’s not much scientific errors, it’s pretty accurate from what I heard. We could settle on Doctor Who if we can’t decide.”

“Would you like it though? You told me you don’t watch it usually.”

“You could tell me about it, it could be good. We could also try Supernatural, it’s kind of mystery stuff with paranormal stuff?”

“Ghosts, spirit and the whole heaven/hell thing?”

“Yeah, there’s a lot going on. And...it's kind of in the title. I’d have to warn you though, I’m kind of obsessed with the main leads, so don't get jealous or something.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t judge you. It’s a judgement free-zone.”

You raised your eyebrows, staying silent for a split second.“...you judged me when I didn’t add any sugar in my coffee.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Spencer, please- you looked at me weirdly, as if I committed a crime.”

“Not in a mean way- I just put a ton, so, seeing someone putting none was weird.” He admitted.

“I’m judging you on that then. You’re putting way too much in that. It’s sugar with liquid at this point, it's melted candy.”

“I hate the strong taste.”

“Then drink tea.” I proposed.

“It’s too light.”

“Just end up drinking water.” I said, running out of ideas.

“No, I prefer to stay with my sugar with liquid.”

As you wish.” I agreed, as we came to a stop.

“So...we’re there.”

“Yep, we are. I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked.

“Yeah, tomorrow.” Spencer repeated, coming forward to plant a kiss on my cheek. “Have a good night.”

“Spencer, you missed. You kissed my cheek.”

“Oh I- are you fine with it…?”

“Just kiss me, Reid.” I replied back, while one of his came on my left cheek, the other laying on my waist as he stepped forward once again, kissing me on the lips.

All of it was perfect.

It was only the two of us, the world around us had froze.

My arms ended up winding up around his neck as he brought me close, his warmth, smell invading my emotions, my whole thoughts.

I had totally forgotten about everything else, he was the center of my attention, I couldn’t allow myself to go on another track when he happened to be near me, this close.

Never have I thought that months ago, as I was crushing on a man I thought wouldn’t like me, would actually like me, and kiss me.

We were literally starting to date.

This better be real, I better not be in a coma after whatever accident I might have had.

Because this— this is way better than a dream, than I imagined.

I would be so mad if that wouldn’t end up to be real— but it is.

All of the things I’d feel, whether it was him, his hand on my cheek radiating his warmth on me, his breath, his lips slotting against mine, his arm enlacing my waist, the grip on my waist gentle, the feeling of the fabric of his jacket against my fingers, or even my own feelings, all of the memories, thoughts floating around, there was just way too many things to describe, but I could still list them all of a sudden if I were to be asked about the aftermath of it.

I couldn’t wish for a better moment like this.

I think that the fact that this moment was probably totally unexpected made it even more special for the two of us.

Neither of us will forget, ever.

This moment totally replaced the message written in bright red ink that reminded me that I still had these feelings laying around that I kept pushing away by fear of rejection.

The rejection seemed long gone, for me, he happened to be having similar feelings, probably fearing a negative event as well.

Turns out nothing bad happened for the both of us.

Only our truest desires, what we wished for but didn’t dare to as the bad ones were stronger.

The bad pushed the joy we could have really lived if the feelings were mutual.

And now, it is.

We both know that the other likes us, that the bad is long gone behind us.

I could tell that, from my side, because of this moment.

I didn’t want it to stop, ever.

I wished to live this kind of event that could give the chance for all of these amazing feelings to fill my whole mind.

No more fear, pain, sadness, just calm, reassuring, soothing feelings.

The ones that make you feel that nothing can hurt you anymore, that make you feel safe, happy, this is all I’ve ever wanted.

I didn’t even count how many minutes that lasted, I was too focused on...the wonderful person in front of me and all the feelings that came with it.

It was quite the overwhelming one, and for once, it wasn’t an unpleasant overwhelming, it made me feel happy.

Mostly because I’d never thought feelings could be so deep, numerous, amazing to think about, and then, even more happy feelings would pop up again, and again.

I’d almost forgotten we were still in front of my building, and that it was...really late.

I almost think that I didn’t remember the world had kept moving, that people walked by to see two people making out in the street.

I guess I sort of apologize, but don’t really care.

I was in my moment and did not care if anyone saw us.

When we both slowed down in our movements, ceasing after a few seconds; I slightly stepped back, letting his hand rest on my cheek for a little bit more when I put mine on his.

I simply didn’t want the feeling of his warmth to ever stop.

I did not want any of what this moment made me feel to ever stop after I had to experience it with no one but a person that deeply matters to me.

The only person I’ve ever wanted to feel this kind of amazing feelings with.

I didn’t want it to stop.

Not yet.

Not ever.

It was amazing.

He was amazing.

As we both started to take our breaths back, when his hand dropped from my cheek to my waist, joining the other, the feeling of looking in his eyes once again was astounding.

It was just a glance.

But, when you happen to be in total love, it isn’t just a simple glance, it’s always a special one.

What you feel about it won’t ever change.

I’m sure of it, in my case.

I wish I could be looking at him forever.

But...not that I want to ruin the moment but, it was really late, and windy.

Not the best time to look at each other for hours.

After a certain amount of time, Spencer had been the one to briefly break contact, before maintaining it once again, but with a different emotion plastered on his face this time.

“I’m sorry for...before, I panicked and I-”

Okay, here goes nothing.

“I don’t want you to go yet.” I admitted. “That's kind of the reason...I said and did that too. I wanted to kiss you but, it was also to feel you close a bit more, a four hour date wasn’t enough and I don’t think it’ll ever be.”

He seemed surprised at my confession.

Just say something, I hate it when there’s a blank.

Especially when I just said this to you.

“...if you want me to stay, just tell me.” He said. “I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me, as long as you want. Even for a whole week, a month, hell- forever, let’s be crazy.”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just feel like I would be bothering you.”

“You’re not. I’m actually happy to get to stay more. It’s not bothersome at all, on the contrary. I’m happy to stay.”

I’m happy too.

“Thanks for that. I really...appreciate it.” I admitted.

“The pleasure’s mine.”

“Wow, you’re playing it ‘gentleman-like’ now?”

“I guess so. I would also say it can be because I’ve seen a bit too much of Miraculous Ladybug when I was babysitting kids. Cat Noir’s nice.”

“You know lines of Cat Noir?”

“Yeah, I picked up a few one.”

“Really? You’re gonna say them all the time now?”

“Of course, my lady.”

“I’m never gonna get used to that. It’s weird hearing you say that.”

“But it’s romantic, there’s a lot in the TV shows you watch. The characters do that too.”

“But you’re not one of the characters, you’re Spencer Reid. You’re yourself. You don’t need to throw Cat Noir lines to charm me or something. Just you...is enough.”

“You sound like ladybug...and also Marinette.”

“We’re kind of them- well- kind of, as what we deal with isn’t...close to a kid’s show, but, we save people.”

“Oh, we should-”

“No, I’m not dressing up as ladybug for halloween.”

“...can’t say I didn’t try.”

“There’s no way I’m dressing up in a suit-” I argued.

“We would have been equal, I’d be in one too.”

“I’m not doing it-”

“...guess I’ll have to come up with something else then.”

“Yeah. We have at least six months to think about it so...that’s enough for me, I guess.”

“It’s short. We’re gonna end up one week before.” He complained.

“Stop worrying about that- just get inside with me, it’s getting cold.”

“I could give you my sweater and jacket, I don’t mind.”

“Just- get inside Reid.”

“I was joking!”

“Sure you do. Do you think I’d stay outside for another hour?”

“I just thought it was because you were cold-”

“I’m gonna check if you don’t have a fever when we get up- you’re out of your mind.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“Nah, you’re a bit tired, from what you said.”

“I didn’t actually mean it.”

“Sure, let’s get you to bed, grandpa.”

"I'm 32-"

"So?"

"I don't see why you call me grandpa."

"You don't have the reference? The meme, you know?"

"No, I don't."

"You're disappointing, Reid."

“Is it going to get worse in later seasons? It’s too calm.” Spencer pointed out.

“Uh...possibly. Season one is pretty calm, not- entirely, but...okay compared to later ones. There’s a lot going on in Supernatural, and it gets pretty hard when you get attached to the characters. The writers like to hurt us.”

“They’re taking all of the pain of the fans on twitter as inspiration.”

I snorted. “I’m really starting to wonder if it’s not the case at this point.”

“I noticed they tend to do that at the end of seasons too. They throw in a cliffhanger where you think that the character is going to die, and then, they make you wait months...just to show they had a scratch on the arm.” He explained.

“It’s true...they did that a lot of times. I’m afraid of what’s going to happen after season one though. I bet it’s only going to get worse.”

“Probably. I bet they won’t be extra nice with letting them live peacefully.”

“You…” I stopped in my sentence, yawning. “...said it. Sorry- I’m a bit tired.” I said, rubbing my eyes.

"Oh you should probably- go to bed, yeah. I'll leave the bed to you, you know."

"Why would you sleep on the couch?"

"Uh...well, uh...I don't know."

"We're sleeping in the same bed, it's not the end of the world."

"...are you uh- sure?"

"I guess. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

“I just figured that...it’d be sort of embarrassing, or even awkward for you.”

“I don’t get why it would be, it’s okay. Plus, you deserve to sleep comfortably if you’re tired as well.”

“Okay, then.”

I paused for a bit, thinking about a detail. “...It’s probably stupid to ask, but...which side do you usually prefer? Just so that, there aren't any problems if you sleep on a specific one, you know.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be taking you side or anything, as you said, if you prefer a specific...one.”

“Why did you think I asked? And, in case we prefer the same, we’ll just settle on one, that's all I can think of.”

“...it wasn’t stupid to ask though.” Spencer reassured.

“Really? I...it’s not everyday that I ask that kind of stuff, especially as this situation doesn’t happen everyday. But, at least, I can say that I’ve already done it. It’s...something.”

“Yeah, same. It’s just...I don’t know, what would you call it?”

“Half stupid, half nice? I have no idea as well.” I admitted.

“...we can just leave it there, we’ll never find it.”

“True- Are you coming, or doing a whole routine like drinking water, going to the bathroom, tidying up everything, checking mails and all of the possible stuff that you could do?”

“Do you really think I could be doing that?”

“Kind of. Wouldn’t be surprising if you were doing that. But I’d say it’s a waste of time, if it’s 10PM, you end up going at 11:30 something. The least I’d do would be...water and bathroom. But again- I won’t criticize, it’s fine with me. Just don’t make hella noise.” I detailed.

“I just...check mails...a lot, yeah. Also uh...I make sure everything is ready in case we get called in so I don’t rush; so, I do a lot of stuff. But as if it’s a calm week, I guess I can skip getting the bag ready, and probably mails as I answer them later.”

“That’s...good to know at least. Less stress before going to bed.”

“Kind of. I tend to do all of the stuff I forget all day at night, which causes me to do a lot of stuff, being afraid that they won’t be done on time, so...it’s nice to have less stress.”

“Really nice after what you said.” I pointed out. “Are you sure you’re okay though? We’re only sharing a bed, it isn’t the end of the world, if that’s the thing that bothers you.”

“No, you’re not….it isn’t- It’s not the problem. I just, never really...did it, and...I have no idea why I’m stressing over that. It’s kind of stupid as we’re just gonna sleep.”

“You’ll be out like a light in two minutes Spence, it won’t be a problem if that’s what stresses you out. Also, it kind of is...the feeling you can’t describe, and me neither. It’s like...stress, awkwardness, a mix, you know.”

“Exactly, it’s kind of that.” He agreed.

“Didn't know we were thinking the same about that. Well, I guess we’ll see. We should go before it’s too late.”

“Yeah, we...probably should.”

“Relax up a bit. Just chill.”

“I’m perfectly relaxed.” He argued.

“No you’re not. Stop lying, I don’t even need to profile you to know. You’re like a balloon ready to explode.”

“I really don’t see what you’re talking about, y/n.” He muttered.

“Did anyone tell you that you’re very convincing? Turns out they were lying, genius.”

“I think I’m the one freaking out now.” I admitted, out of the blue.

“I’m not really freaking out anymore. I guess I gave all of my stress away to you.”

“It’s quite thoughtful, thanks.”

“Maybe you’re just hot, who knows. I’m fine on my side.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not hot, it was freezing cold outside, so it is inside. I know when it’s hot and when it’s not.”

“Uh then...try to take deep breaths? I don’t know what you could do.”

Why don’t you try to be less handsome, huh?

“I think it’s the awkwardness and stress mix kicking in, as I said earlier.”

“Do you want to talk for a bit? Maybe it’ll calm you down.”

“Sure, why not.” I agreed, turning to the other side to face him.

That guy has to realize that his face is what’s distracting me.

“What did you think about today?” He asked.

“It was...really fun. Quite more than I expected I think. I guess I’d be down for other ones.”

“I can’t guarantee I’m not going to slide one or two essays in it though.”

“I’m fine with it. You know listening to you...never bothered me. I don’t think it’ll ever bore me. Who doesn’t like a few facts?”

“Even when it’s all about science or pagan rituals? The cop looked at me weirdly and even asked what kind of doctor I was. Someone else had to talk to revive the conversation.”

You bet, not everyone’s used to it.

“I do remember that one. You looked pretty...proud about it when you finished the sentence. I swear that I would have revived it first or would have kept going. I know a bit about it. What did you say to creep him out?”

“I think that...there was candle wax on the tree, and I said the usual stuff, as a matter of fact, it was used to protect the birth day celebrants from demons, and that the celebration got rejected by Christianity as a pagan ritual’. That’s when he asked.”

That totally explains.

“It wasn’t embarrassing, don’t worry. He just...wasn’t used to that. That almost happens with every new person you meet. I’m out of the ‘almost’ I guess. I was surprised, but got kind of interested.”

“Again, that was surprising. Not everyone would have reacted like you did. I know the others try not to hurt me and listen to it until it’s enough.”

“It’s distracting sometimes, you can always keep going. But not too late, 2AM essays aren’t my thing. Sleeping at 2AM is.”

Getting to sleep at 2AM doesn’t even matter anymore, I’m just glad to be able to sleep.

“I’ll try then.”

“You better.” I warned, pulling my jacket closer to my body as I felt a few chills.

His gaze hadn’t left my figure, hence, he noticed. “...you’re still cold?”

“A bit, I guess.”

“Do you uh...want to...get closer?”

“If you don’t mind, I don’t know. I don’t want it to be embarrassing.”

“It’s not, I swear. I just don’t want you to freeze, I guess.” He admitted, raising one of his arms.

“Okay, thanks.” I slowly got closer, not wanting to invade too much.

“I said you could get closer, that is barely closer than before. Come here.” He pointed out, which I responded to with a sigh as my head ended up resting against his chest. “I told you it wasn’t weird.”

“I thought it’d be for you.” I answered.

“It’s not...anymore. It’s actually fine...now that you’re here.”

“...really? You were kind of stressed about it just a bit ago.”

“Don’t remind me, it’s embarrassing again now. Do as your brain is a computer and delete the file.”

You’re the computer, I’m not.

“It’s fun when you react like that, why would I stop?”

“That’s offending.”

“You, offended? I don’t think so. You don’t sound like it, you’re acting.”

“That hurted my feelings even more, I think my heart might die because of such cruelty. You should be careful with your words, my lady.”

“You’re starting to look like Cat Noir. It’s cheesy. I didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings.”

“Maybe I am Cat Noir, who knows.”

“Guess you’re gonna have to give back your power, you’re not supposed to say it.”

That shows how many nights I’ve spent babysitting kids, especially Matt’s, they watch it way too much.

“Never said I was.”

I kind of wish you were, it’d be fun to see you in that costume.

“Spencer, you sound like him now. You’re definitely him, can’t change my mind about that.”

“I just sound like him, doesn’t mean I am.”

“I have the last word, stop.”

“Okay, I’m stopping. But you have to sleep first, I’m not sleeping until you’re asleep.”

“...bossy.” I spat.

“I’m taking care of you, I’m not bossy.”

“...what’ver.”

“Whatever, right.” Spencer repeated, hesitating for a bit before putting his lips on my forehead, softly kissing it a few times. “I totally agree with you.”

“Mhm.” I lazily said, growing a bit more tired.

“Good night, y/n.”

Nothing much had been planned for today; so when I had woken up, I really didn’t need to feel stressed about rushing into work as most of it would only be paperwork.

Spencer was still asleep. He had stirred up a bit when I stood up, but it didn’t wake him much. He was sleeping as a baby, even when I accidentally banged my foot against a shelf, nothing woke him up.

I exited the room with a chuckle, heading to the kitchen aisle to fill up a glass of water; sitting on the counter when I had the glass in hand.

It wasn’t really late, just about 8AM, I could still head to work around 9 or 10 as our work hours were to be chosen by us when nothing urgent was to be done; but, the limit was still about 10AM, the hour to be chosen more freely was around the end of the day.

Too bad we can’t head in somewhere in the afternoon.

I hate that work just for that.

I slightly jumped from the counter, peering over the bedroom to see Spencer still sound asleep, only his position had changed.

As I looked in the room, his sweater had been messily put on one of the chairs in the corner, almost at the edge of it.

Time to make jokes and steal a sweater.

I slightly laughed, walking to the chair as I grabbed the sweater, heading back outside when I had the item in hand.

In a few seconds, I had put my head in the top hole, then my arms in the sleeves, arranging the sweater afterwards.

Good luck to get it back, Reid.

“Hey, did you-” Spencer asks, before putting his eyes on me. “Is that my sweater, or am I having hallucinations?”

“That is your sweater, indeed. You’re not hallucinating.”

“Is it being rude to ask why you’re wearing it?”

“I don’t know, I like it.”

“And...is it possible to get it back later?”

“Not sure….no.”

“At least you were clear.” Spencer chuckled, sitting on the couch as I joined him after a minute.

“Last night was really nice. I appreciated the forehead kisses.”

“I just...felt like it would be reassuring, glad to know that. I could do it often if you’d like to. I don’t mind.”

“Every night, no matter the situation. If we leave and don’t see each other for a few hours, forehead kisses, even if we don’t sleep at the other’s place, forehead kisses- basically every time we have to separate for a bit. But- you can also do it when we’re together, so...correction, all the time.”

“Gotcha, all the time.”

“I may give you back your sweater at some point if you keep your promise.”

“I don’t actually mind, you can keep it. Just tell me when you take my clothes so I don’t think that some alien stole my clothes in the night.”

“I’ll send you a text every time I’ll be taking one. You might receive a lot though…”

“Just try to leave two or three shirts and some pants so I don’t have to go out in the street naked.”

“I will- don’t worry.” I said, laughing.

“Too bad I can’t take yours in exchange. I’m not a fan of...tops.”

“You know what? That’s not a bad idea. I’m gonna take everything in your closet and only leave pants and that top. Thanks for the idea!” I thanked, getting up from the couch as he tried to catch me when I started to run.

At least now, I can’t say that I had a bad week.

It was better than expected;

For...probably the both of us.

If you liked this fic, let me know here!

#cm #cm fic #cm cbs #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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bangtanoneshotsx · 3 years

Text

Rain-Jungkook

I don’t really know what this is tbh. I’m not really back but this was just written one night at 2am

Somehow you didn’t hear the rain pounding against your office window. So as you looked up from your phone, finally seeing the outside from the small lobby of the office building you worked at, you silently cursed.

“Looks like there’s going to be a storm Miss.” The security guard spoke from his post, the small wrinkles in the corner of his eyes deepened with the gentle smile. With a sigh, you nodded, thanking him. Your bus stop was only a few minutes away, but still, in weather like this, it would feel like miles.

If the security guard was right, and there would be a storm, you couldn’t really chance it and wait in the lobby until the rain stopped. With the older man’s predictions you could be waiting all night. With another grumble, you zipped up your black bag, pulling your camel coat tighter around you. It was your one jacket without a zip, just flimsy buttons that wouldn’t do much. With another moment to brace yourself, you wished the security guard a goodnight before heading out. Instantly, you were drenched, the heels of your boots splashing the puddles, bringing up small droplets to the back of your legs. In the distance you could see your bus stop and the small shelter it provided. With your head down, and against the wind, you made your way to the stop.

Finally, you made it to the glass shelter, though the rain still pounded on the roof above you. You winced as you moved your soaked hair, the drops sliding down your back. Landing on the small bench, you let your back fall against the glass wall, your top sticking to your skin.

“I hear there’s a storm.” A deep voice brought your head up. A man, equally drenched as you stood just under the bus shelter. You noticed he wore a white blouse, that had turned slightly see-through, his sleeves rolled up, showing his tattoo covered arm

“So I’ve heard. Start of the season I suppose.” You murmured, glancing at the electronic sign telling you how far away the next bus was. The man grinned, sitting next to you. With a groan, he stretched, his head hitting the glass behind him.

“Is this the point where we stop pretending we don’t know each other?” You gave a burst of laughter, rolling your eyes. With your head to the side, you noticed him looking at you.

“How was work Jungkook?” You finally asked. Jungkook gave a gentle sigh.

“Yoongi was stressed, the client wanted the next four songs at the end of the week.”

“What does that mean for you?” Jungkook’s neutral expression quickly turned into a proud grin.

“It means I get to help produce and edit the songs.”

“Jungkook that’s great!” Jungkook’s cheeks were tinted red, though you could still see the pride in his expression.

“You think so?”

“Of course! This is what you’ve been waiting for.” Jungkook hummed, the smile on his face content.

“What about you? How was your boss?” With a groan, you slumped. Jungkook sat quietly as words tumbled out of you, all the stress from that day leaving you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I checked the weather. I swear it said sunny all day.” You could only laugh as Jungkook panicked, jumping to his feet as he tried to stuff everything into the picnic basket he had brought. It was your first date. Finally, after months of meeting at the bus stop Jungkook had plucked up the courage.

“Jungkook it’s okay! Don’t worry.” Jungkook’s eyebrows were furrowed, his shoulders tense as he panicked more. Bending down, you picked up the last few items, a couple of wine glasses, and a small plastic box that contained some homemade food that apparently his friend had made for him.

“The car’s too far!” You shouted over the rain and the howling wind that had just started. You could see Jungkook scan the park before he grabbed your wrist. With a shout to follow him, he pulled you under a big oak tree. Jungkook’s wide eyes were focused on you as he dropped the basket, the plates inside clinking as he did so.

“I can’t believed it rained.” You laughed, tilting your head up. The only sound you could hear for the next few minutes was the rain hitting the leaves of the tree, enclosing you in a mystical bubble. Jungkook hadn’t spoke, instead he just watched, his lips in a small, twitchy smile.

“You okay Jungkook?” You asked softly. You knew he could be a perfectionist sometimes. And you weren’t so sure if the sudden change in weather had ruined his plans. “Jungkook.” Without a word, Jungkook stepped forward, resting his right, tattooed hand on your cheek. You could feel your breath hitch in your throat, your heart pounding in your ears. With a slight moment of hesitance, almost nerves, Jungkook pressed his lips softly against yours. His confidence grew quickly as his hand on your waist tightened.

After a few seconds, he stepped back, his forehead resting against yours.

“I always found kissing in the rain romantic.” He spoke, almost breathless. A deep chuckle escaped him as you rolled your eyes, hitting him playfully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You held a flute of champagne in your right hand. A grin on your face as you spoke with his mother, and now since four hours ago, your mother-in-law. You wore a sparkling white dress, the thin spaghetti straps that held it up, digging slightly into your shoulders. He stood to the side, his six closest friends next to him. You could see his eyes crinkle as he gave a certain type of smile that told you he was embarrassed. Jin was laughing, his hand slapping Jungkook’s back. With your conversation with your mother-in-law falling to a natural ending, you took a sip of your champagne.

“I better go save him.” You joked, thanking your mother-in-law once more. As soon as you got within hearing distance of the group of men, Hoseok grinned, nodding at you.

“Y/N, you look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you.” Smiling, you felt Jungkook’s arm wrap around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder. You could feel your cheeks heating up as you noticed the boys watching the two of you, pride in their eyes as they looked at their youngest. You knew at that moment they had realised how much he had grown up.

“So does anyone know what the weather is like in….” You trailed off, waiting for someone to fill in the blank. With a chuckle, Jungkook held you tighter, placing a kiss on the side of your head.

“Nice try. But even they don’t know.” Quickly, you tried to find any hint of deceit in their faces. Finding none, your eyebrows rose in shock.

“Really?” You exclaimed, a huff leaving you. Namjoon shook his head, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Sorry Y/N, he doesn’t trust us.” You sighed, defeated to the fact that you wouldn’t know where your honeymoon was until you were at the gate waiting to go on the plane. The honeymoon was the one thing Jungkook wanted to be in charge of, he wanted to keep it a surprise. Why, you had no idea. Before you could interrogate them anymore the DJ started to play a familiar tune. With his hand away from your waist and now held out to you, Jungkook grinned.

“May I have this dance?”

You were only a couple seconds into your first dance, your guests now surrounding you, the occasional click of a camera interrupting the soft beat. Although you had practically tuned everything else out, you still heard it. The first few raindrops were soft against the fabric of the marquee. Until suddenly, harsh raindrops fell, almost covering the song. You burst out with laughter, looking up to notice Jungkook was grinning.

“I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything else.” You grinned, your voice soft. Jungkook hummed, placing a quick peck on your lips as he brought you into a twirl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Can you bring his jacket down too please!” You shouted up the stairs to Jungkook, who was currently on the search for his raincoat. With a shout to let you know he heard, you focused back on your son. He sat at the bottom of the staircase, his eyes wide and resembling Jungkook’s as he wore one red rain boot, his scarf and beanie already on. He was only four, but already he looked so much like Jungkook. He sat patiently as you helped him slip on the other boot.

“Is it red?” Jungkook shouted after a few minutes of silence. You winced as you could already imagine the mess he had created by pulling everything out of the closet.

“Yeah! It should be on the right side.” Softly you smiled at your son, fixing his scarf so it kept him warm.

“You know where your jacket is don’t you?” Your son nodded, agreeing with you. “Great, why don’t you go help your dad?” With a jump, your son raced up the stairs. You could tell when he found Jungkook, by your husband’s exclamation, his cheerful voice straining as he probably picked up your son. You took the few minutes of silence to get yourself ready. Slipping on your boots and your raincoat, you pulled up your hood just in time to see Jungkook holding your son’s hand as he jumped down each step. With the last one, you caught him as he jumped, bringing him onto your hip. He giggled as you tickled him, grinning.

“Did you show your dad where your jacket was? Did you go save the day?” Your son lit up with the mention of ‘saving the day’. He was currently into superheroes, so much that you were surprised that there wasn’t an argument about not wearing his cape outside.

“You ready?” It may seem like you were going on a big adventure, but really you were just going out into your driveway and garden. It was raining, and per tradition, you were getting ready to go out to jump in the puddles.

You swung open the front door to reveal the rain pounding the stone driveway, the front yard already becoming muddy and covered with puddles. With Jungkook’s permission, your son raced out, jumping as high as he could and landing in a puddle. The muddy water that had gathered covered his rain boots and splashed his jeans.

You yelped as Jungkook pulled you out of the house. With a flash, he pushed down your hood, grinning.

“Jungkook!” You exclaimed, though you were quickly cut off by his lips on yours.

Rain had somehow become a constant in your relationship with Jungkook. Something that often changed your plans. You weren’t sure how it happened. All you knew, as you jumped in the puddles, holding Jungkook’s hand tightly and watching your son play with your small white dog that had escaped outside, was that the rain created the best memories.

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funfunfuntillmydaddy · 3 years

Text

Naked Ambition

Getting up the corporate ladder when you work somewhere that is dominated by misogynistic alpha males requires a good dose of talent, resilience and ambition. Not to sound full of myself but, well, I do get a lot of compliments on my talents from the guys at the agency where I work. Especially from the senior partners.

So I was pretty happy with myself when in my mid 20s I was promoted to a manager to lead a team. But it wasn’t plain sailing and I quickly learned that you can’t be friends with everyone. One of the guys in the team, Alex, who I beat out for the promotion, was particularly sour and difficult.

For two months, Alex was nothing but a total pain in the ass. He would argue with me, not do what I asked and bad mouthed me to other people in the office

Being the independent woman I am, I didn’t complain to my boss or any of the other senior partners. But then my boss came to me and told me he noticed how much of a prick Alex was being. He asked me if I wanted him to fire Alex. I didn’t want to admit defeat and wanted to fix it myself. My boss told me that maybe I should try and clear the air with him. But if that didn’t work I needed to get rid of him.

So I put a bit of a plan together. It meant having an informal chat with him late on a Friday. It also meant that I wore my best looking casual Friday outfit. This meant tight jeans and a top with a low neck to give a glimpse of a couple of my talents that were particularly persuasive. I wanted to assert my own type of dominance with some honey, rather than vinegar.

And surprise, surprise, it works a treat. As soon as we were alone and I call him out, he was back tracking and apologising like some pathetic puppy dog. He goes on saying how sorry he is and how much this job means to him and how he was getting married soon and was probably just stressed about it.

After a while, it gets a bit painful and I say we could get a drink and maybe a bite to eat to really clear the air and we could start afresh. So we head to one of the trendy city bars and get stuck into the cocktails.

I knew his type. I wasn’t surprised that he would let himself get sloppy drunk even with his boss. I guess he thought we were all good and even friends now so he felt comfortable letting go. Soon his arrogance and macho attitude came back. But I was ready for it. Now it was time for some twisted fun.

So I start flirting with him. Laughing along, touching his arm, smiling a lot. The usual kind of encouragement.

We continue drinking and get something to eat from a small and cosy restaurant where the drinking and flirting keeps going. By the time we finish dinner, it’s late but instead of calling it quits I suggest we head to a club. He messages his fiancé to say he’s stuck at work because some client was going nuts. As he tells me what he’s writing I smile to myself. I know exactly how this is going to play out now. I message my boyfriend something similar but he’s used to these kind of things. He’s proud of my success even if it means I have to prioritise work sometimes, even on a Friday night. I then message my assistant and ask her to book a room for me at the hotel down the road from our office.

The hotel booking was nothing out of the ordinary. We often did it for clients but also when we were stuck in the office or the city. My assistant had been around awhile and knew all about it. She had worked for senior partners and knew she might be asked to do it at short notice. And she always does it discreetly. I worked this out in my second week when my boss at the time took me out for dinner and drinks that started as a client meeting and continued as a debrief in the hotel into the wee small hours.

So when Alex and I get to the club, we down a shot and get even sloppier on the dance floor. He’s losing control and can’t help himself. His hands are all over me. But I don’t object. In fact I encourage it. I grind against him and feel how excited he is.

After a few more drinks in the club, I pull away from Alex and give him my best devilish grin. I tell him I should let him go home and get back to his fiancé. As I see the pain of disappointment on his face, I bite my lip as I suppose out loud that we could go somewhere else, more private. I almost laughed when the expression on his face instantly changed to that of a puppy with a new toy.

As we leave the club and find a taxi, Alex starts getting even more handsy, groping my ass and pushing into me as we walk out. Then we find the taxi and once we are in the backseat he just goes full on. He leans over planting his mouth on mine and going for it like only a drunk, horny guy can.

He keeps going all the way to the hotel and then he follows me out the door. I pull away from him again and ask him if he’s sure he wants to keep going and I don’t want to get him in trouble with his fiancé. He answers by pulling me back into him and sticking his tongue down my throat. So I grab his hand and we go into the lobby.

It’s now after 1 am and the lobby is mostly deserted. I confidently check in under my name knowing my assistant is totally reliable. My face shows no shame even though the time, our condition and the lack of any luggage makes the state of affairs irrefutable. I just exchange a brief, knowing smile with the cute, late night receptionist

With the room key successfully procured, we head to the elevator and Alex continues to carry on like a hopeless little puppy. Once in the elevator, he goes even harder at me. His hands all over me especially my ass and my tits. I keep encouraging him and even unbuckle his belt as the elevator gets to our floor. We stumble down the corridor as we get to the room and open the door. I pause briefly at the threshold and look at him, trying to get him to recognise the significance of crossing over. But he’s too horny to care.

So we walk through and the door slams shut behind us. He moves me over to the large bed in the centre of what is a pretty ostentatious suite. But we could be in a $50 motel for all Alex cares. This thought amuses me.

He bends me over the bed and roughly undoes my jeans and pulls them down my thighs and then pulls my panties to the side. My suspicion about the kind of lover he would be is soon confirmed as he goes straight to trying to ram his dick into my pussy. There is no discussion on protection. Fortunately I was wet enough to allow his dick to slide in with reasonable ease.

He hammers away at me as his hands squeeze my tits through my top. He starts groaning already so I pull away. I smile at him as I tell him to slow down. I pull down his jeans and take off his shirt as I push him on the bed. Then I pull off my own clothes as I grab his phone out of his pocket and throw it on the bed.

Naked, I climb on to the bed. Straddling Alex, I lower myself and set the pace as I ride his dick. As I hear his moaning return, I look at his phone, letting the vindictive ideas swirl. Instead of anything particularly evil, that would be thwarted by the passcode anyway, I opt for something a little more passive I pick up the phone and open the camera app. I see a look of panic on his face.

I tell him not to worry and that I just want him to have something to remember this by. Then I squeeze my muscles around his dick and ride him hard to distraction. His moans of pleasure fill the room and I snap away with his camera, framing his naked torso and face as he writhes around as my Pusey works him over. Then I hold it to the side to get my lower body and him in the frame so the cause of his pleasure is indisputable. I even switch to video a bit as I ask him to tell me how good it feels. He tells me how tight I feel which is a nice compliment given how much sex I have and how ungenerously proportioned he is. Then I can’t resist and ask him if I’m tighter than his fiancé while I squeeze extra hard. He groans out in confirmation. I can tell he’s close so I turn into bitchy mode.

I know he isn’t going to be able to get me to orgasm. I ride him hard, alternating between grinding my hips while squeezing and bouncing up and down. I moan out telling him not to cum and pleading for him to keep going, already knowing it will be futile. He is getting really close. I think about lifting off and just ruining his orgasm but decide on the other option.

I plead again for him to keep going and to make me cum. Then as he groans more sharply, I tell him he can’t cum inside me knowing he is too far gone. As I yelp out again for him to hold on, I feel his dick swell inside me as his face contorts and he groans out as he shoots inside me.

I stop abruptly as I look down at him with the most bitchy face I can put on to convey my annoyance. Behind it is a face of satisfaction as this played out exactly as I expected. The pleasure on Alex’s face evaporates as he shoots his last lots of cum into me.

I climb off of him and continue the pretence of my annoyance. Tutting and looking down as his cum leaks out of me. I growl at him, asking rhetorically why he couldn’t hold on. But secretly pleased with myself that I made him totally lose control.

It’s now after 2am and I tell him he should go back to his fiancé as I need to take a shower. There is no invitation from me to join in. We are not embarking on a second round. I make the disappointment palpable. He sheepishly walks out the door and mumbles an apology.

As I enjoy the twin jets of the opulent marble shower, I wonder if he will remember to delete those photos before he gets home to his undoubtedly suspicious fiancé.

After that little escapade, poor Alex was never the same. He was meek and unsure around me, couldn’t speak up in meetings, couldn’t pay attention to what anyone said, his work was full of mistakes. So I’m sure he wasn’t surprised that a few weeks later, we had another meeting late on a Friday. But instead of it ending with him cumming inside me, it ended with him walking out with a box packed with all of his personal effects, Including the picture of his fiancé that adorned his desk.

#affair #cheating

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oikadori · 3 years

Text

a/n: not me crying at 2am about an Oikawa edit, that was my twin sister not me at all...this is totally self indulgent so uhm...yeah. Hope you enjoy it tho!!

Oikawa Tooru x fReader