#i rambled about them to friends for like a couple hours last night it was very fun | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

won4ver · 2 months

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hii, eires!! so i just saw your prompt list (super comprehensive, i'm in awe) and this idea immediately popped into my head as i was reading through them: their friends find out you’re not as scary as you look + you rub your cheek against their chest

and in my mind, riki starts dating someone but he's always been secretive about her when it came to the other members. they only ever saw her in passing since he doesn't want to hang out with her at the dorms where 6 other (stinky) boys live. and she has a very cool/cold aura about her and a rbf (much like riki 😭) so they worry she's mean or up to no good but in the scenario they stumble upon a cute and fluffy scene where riki and her are all lovey w each other :> and teasing ensues and riki gets all embarrassed and grumpy and she ends up being nice lol. it doesn't have to include all 7 of them, and you can pick any other prompts or ideas!! but that's my suggestion, yea :D

✈︎ the perfect moment

pairing : idol!bf!riki x fem!reader

warnings + genre : slight angst. fluff. teasing. riki gets angry and storms off. height difference.

wc : 2k

a/n : HIII N STOP I LOVE YOUR REQ SM??? i literally loved writing this so much, you’re literally a genius. i hope you like it, and that it lines up with your expectations! this was my first ever request so i’m a bit nervous lol. PLS LMK HOW I DID🫶🫶

“Have you spoken with Riki today?” Jay looked up from his phone at Heeseung’s worried tone, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried recalling a time he talked with their youngest member within the last twenty four hours.

“Uh no, why?” Jay tried not to let his nervousness show, barely stopping his voice from wavering. It wasn’t unusual for Riki to be away from his phone during their days off. If anything, it was expected of him.

Ever since he’d gotten together with you, he’d always spend his free time with you, typically spending the entire time at your apartment.

But what wasn’t usual was him going no contact the entire day. Usually, he’d pop a few messages every couple of hours, informing his members about his plans and his sleeping arrangements.

“He hasn’t responded to anyone’s messages, Jake is getting worried because Riki told him that he’d call around noon and it’s-” Heeseung made a show of turning his lit-up phone screen towards Jay, bold numbers in the top center, “already seven.”

As if to confirm Heeseung’s words, Jake began spamming their group chat, questioning every single member about his whereabouts.

Jay gasped as he remembered his last conversation with Riki, one that took place just as he caught Riki leaving around six in the morning. “He’s with YN. I’m pretty sure they went to her family’s place in Incheon for lunch.”

Heeseung suddenly recalled Riki informing them about his trip a few nights ago, an excited smile on his face as he rambled to his members about how much he’d been looking forward to today.

“Oh” The two boys shared a look, their expressions clearly troubled as they both thought back on the same memory. They didn’t mean to completely dismiss Riki’s excitement. They wanted to be excited for him, but it was hard.

They both remembered the way they all grimaced as they heard your name, their evident disapproval showcased on their faces. It was clear to everyone that they didn’t approve of you, well it was clear to everyone except for Riki up until that moment.

They all watched as his face dropped, confusion filling his eyes as he questioned them about their expression. Heeseung almost wished he could go back in time to stop himself from humiliating you in front of everyone, to stop himself from making his wrongful assumptions in front of your boyfriend.

He could hear his own words loud in his ears as if he said it all over again. “Riki, I don’t think she’s right for you. She’s never once shown any intention to even meet any of us, she just seems stand-offish.”

If that didn’t completely throw your boyfriend off, then his leaders following words definitely did. “She doesn’t seem like a good person to be around, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen her smile.”

Heeseung saw the way Riki completely hardened at their words, his eyes glaring holes into them as he stood up from his chair. He could feel the way he flinched when Riki’s chair screeched against their dorm floor as he stormed outside, his house shoes still on.

“I feel bad about what happened that day.” Heeseung shook out of his reverie as he glanced over at Jay, his eyes glazed over the same way. “He’s barely said a single word to any of us since then. He literally gave me the cold shoulder yesterday!”

It was clear to everyone in the group how much Riki cherished you. They saw it in the way his entire body perked up at your name. Or in the way they all watched him stay up late making little origami bouquets for you even when he had an early schedule.

It was so easy to dismiss all his acts of love because they’d never seen the two of you in action, only seeing a small glimpse of you as their managers dropped Riki off at your apartment for your weekly sleepovers. Or when they caught sight of you sitting in their company lobby while waiting for your boyfriend, head cladded in black headphones.

They all remembered the way you’d react when you caught them looking, the way you’d avoid their eyes and look down at the floor. Your oversized jeans and graphic hoodies didn’t help with their image of you either, your style matching their youngest perfectly.

Those small peaks were enough for them to form their own opinions of you, enough for their dislike of you to build to the point of spilling in front of your boyfriend.

Jay felt his phone buzzing in his hand, a phone call from Jungwon coming in as his and Heeseung’s conversation paused. “Hello?” Heeseung couldn’t hear what Jungwon was saying over the quiet radio, their manager ignoring their conversation as he sat bobbing his head in the front.

“Okay, Heeseung and I will reach the dorm first, once we get home I’ll try calling Riki again.” As soon as Jay ended the call he was quick to summarize their entire conversation, Heeseung nodding along as he agreed to call Riki as soon as they returned.

Their dorm was completely silent as they unlocked the door, all lights turned off sans for the smallest ray peeking from under Riki’s door.

Both boys’ eyes widened as they saw two pairs of shoes beside the door, a small awe of amazement leaving Heeseung’s mouth as he saw their matching shoes. “Jay, look! They literally have matching dunks.” He bent down to untie his shoes, eyes never leaving the smaller pair.

“Her feet are so small, how tall is she?” Heeseung shrugged in response, their limited knowledge about you showing in their questions.

“Riki told me that she’s five three, she literally barely reaches his bicep.” Both boys jumped in shock as Jake appeared behind them, Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Sunoo following close behind him.

“You actually almost just gave me a heart attack” Sunoo snickered at the two boys before he paused in front of them, just now also noticing the shoes sitting beside the door. “Oh my god?” He gasped, a hand flying over his lips as his eyes sparked. “I think that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?”

Jungwon leaned over Jake’s shoulder to see what everyone was staring at, regret coming back in full force as he recalled what he said to Riki.

Everyone settled down on their couch, their outer attire still around their shoulders and they relaxed for a minute. Through the silence in the living room, they were able to hear a small feminine giggle, one followed by a laugh they recognized as Riki’s right away.

Jungwon stood up from his spot, tilting his head towards the door with wide eyes. They all stood frozen in spot as they finally heard the quiet music coming from his room, barely loud enough to hear over your giggles.

All the boys shared a knowing look, deciding this was the moment they’d finally properly meet you. They all stood around Riki’s door, Jake in the front as he gently grabbed the door handle. They all watched with bated breaths as the door opened, releasing it as they saw that neither of you heard it.

All their jaws dropped at the scene in front of them, the pure innocent scene in front of them not only melting their hearts but changing their thoughts on you.

The sight that welcomed them was one straight from a romcom, everything down to the way you looked into each other’s eyes was filled with nothing but love.

You stood in front of Riki, one hand entwined with his with your other wrapped tight around his waist. Your cheek was resting against his chest, chin pointed up as you looked him in the eyes with the brightest smile on your face.

Riki’s smile mirrored yours, hearts barreling out of his eyes as he held you tight against him.

Your feet were on top of his, sock-cladded heels elevated in the air as you stood on your tippy toes. For the first time since they’ve seen you finally ditched your jeans and an oversized sweater, both of you wearing your matching sets of lotte world pyjamas. Riki’s filled with small pictures of Lotty, and yours with Lorry.

Riki quietly hummed along to the music, playfully singing random parts to you.

These moments together were his favourite, the soft ones that were shared between just the two of you. In your private world without the perceptions of others ruining your moment, it was perfect.

Well, it was perfect until Jay accidentally awed out loud, both your heads snapping towards Riki’s ajar door. Riki reacted before you, gently lowering you onto the ground and pushing you against his back, hiding you from the others’ view.

Riki could feel your nervousness, your hands rubbing small shapes into his stomach as you held him tighter. Riki glared at his members as he felt your heart racing against his back, his protectiveness coming out in waves as he broadened his stance to hide you better.

“Is there something wrong?” Sunoo could barely keep his smile down, even with Riki’s glaring eyes he still looked completely harmless.

His long hair was done up in a half-up ponytail, his zigzag headband pushing his bangs out of his face. “You guys are so cute!” Riki raised an eyebrow at him in confusion, eyes losing their sharpness as the members started complimenting the two of you over each other.

“Can you all leave, please? We’re kind of in the middle of something.” At your boyfriend’s surly wording, you gave him a soft nudge to the back. He quietly apologized to his members as they all gaped in amazement, “You got in to apologize with just a tap? We need you around more.” Riki turned red with embarrassment, closing his eyes tight as he focused on your hands around his waist.

You finally peeked out from behind your boyfriend’s back, automatically being met with all six boys staring at you with a soft look, small smiles greeting you as you looked from member to member. Riki felt you wiggling behind him, his protective instincts coming up again.

He turned his back to the members as he held you against his chest, looking down into your eyes for any sort of discomfort. When you nodded at him with a smile he finally stepped to the side, his hand clasped around yours as he pressed his side completely to yours.

Seeing your height difference in person differed completely from just hearing it from Jake. The actual image of the two of you beside each other was one they’d never forget.

“Hey, you’re yn, right?” You nervously nodded your head towards Heeseung after looking into Riki’s eyes for reassurance. Heeseung smiled brightly at your cute acts, a tender affection filling whatever disapproval he held before.

Heeseung walked towards you, ignoring Riki’s warning looks, and reaching his hand out toward you. “I’m Heeseung, Riki’s eldest brother.” You wrapped your smaller hand around his own, your anxiety almost completely washing away at his gentleness.

“It’s nice to meet you. Riki had told me a lot about you.” Riki groaned out loud as you outed him, a soft whine of faux annoyance leaving his lips as he tugged on your entwined hands. “Don’t tell him that! That was supposed to be our secret.” You looked away from Heeseung to look at your boyfriend, a big smile on your lips as you gave him the softest look you could muster.

“I mean it’s fine, you can tell them anything” Riki looked away from you with flushed cheeks, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as he tried to hide his lovesick smile.

“I didn’t know you could slow dance, Riki.” The room erupted with laughter as your boyfriend groaned. You easily allowed him to disconnect your hands so he could tackle Jake in a headlock, loud “la la la”’s leaving his mouth as they all teased him.

“Riki, dance with me!” Heeseung joined them, acting like he was going to wrap his arms around Riki’s waist. “Baby, help me!” Riki tried calling you for backup, only to let out a sigh of betrayal as you joined their teasing.

Even if your relationship with his members started off rocky, there was nothing any of you would change about this moment. It was completely perfect.

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devondespresso · 4 months

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(found this bad boy in my drafts and honestly i loved reading it again so we're gonna post it. wahoo)

my personal canon for post-starcourt stobin is that they're actually inseparable for the first month or so

im talking steve taken to the hospital for his injuries and the staff having to force them apart and call security. im talking they have to drag robin kicking and screaming to a different room because last time Steve left her sight he was dragged back lifeless and presumably dead (i firmly believe they intentionally used physical torture for steve and to use his condition for psychological torture for robin)

and steve waking up half-present in a cold plain room alone? might as well be back in the bunker. and if theres doctors trying to run tests and examine his wounds? might as well be Russian soldiers standing over him and touching his injuries. hurting him again. possibly planning to hurt Robin next.

and now hospital staff are trying to deal with two screaming desperate teenagers who keep begging for the other in between rambles of nonsense and they can't run tests or do their jobs or even get answers from them because all these two seem to care about is the other teen

so they don't really have any practical choices other than moving them to a combined room. and they still freak out every now and then but having the other in the room keeps these outbursts much shorter and doctors are able to actually run tests and help these kids as long as they're close together. And when Robins blood tests and everything come back ok and shes able to be discharged, shes given special permission to stay in the room at all times

and the two little kids that came in with them? they're not exactly freaking out quite like the teens but they're certainly not making things easy either. Ericas testing the willpower of any doctor or nurse she can speak to and both kids stay as close as they can at all times and refuse to leave the hospital. visiting hours over? they're in the waiting room, even convinced a couple to move so they can have seats closest to the hall that teens room is in. try to call their parents? good luck getting a full name or number out of them. once their parents do come get them they're showing back up in an hour, bikes lodged in the bike rack and back in their seats. they've been stopped for sneaking in several times and caught hiding under one of the teens beds even more often. eventually staff just gets tired of spending half their shift wrangling two middle schoolers and it becomes an unspoken agreement to just ignore them hiding in the room.

And once Steve is discharged its the same thing all over again. Robins parents were worried about her spending all her time in the hospital with the boy from her summer job, but given the cover story about the fire and the pair getting trapped inside they convinced themselves its reasonable to want to stay by your friends side while they recover

but now that hes out, shes asking if she can spend the night at his house? and his parents won't be there? absolutely not. except robins in no mindset to accept leaving him alone for this long let alone overnight so she tried sneaking out to bike over to his before he can get the dumb idea to drive over in the middle of the night post-concussion. but the buckleys notice shes gone either because she makes too much noise sneaking out or they notice the severe lack of Robin-trying-to-be-quiet noises into the night (robin my tism queen definitely has bump-into-shit syndrome in the middle of the night but she also doesn't make any noise sneaking around the base with scoops troop so i think it's a 50/50 weather she can use the adrenaline to sneak out to see steve quietly)

so they put two and two together and drive over to the Harrington house. steve answers the door and calls robin over, both of them looking sheepish but not exactly guilty. they talk on steves couch (yes Steves there too) and stobin does their best to explain their separation anxiety that gets the severity across without getting them sent to a mental hospital all while making sure not to break any ndas (which ends up being a long conversation with stobin trying to translate their experience in the bunker to fit the cover story well enough, which is very different when the real story is kidnapping and the fake one is a building fire)

eventually they reach an understanding of "we're worried this is kinda unhealthy but its clearly more stressful to try and separate you right now and we're definitely not going to be able to stop you" so they compromise to let steve stay at the buckleys for a little bit so they can at least keep an eye on them. at first they try just letting steve sleep on the couch (which they agree to because steve worried about overstepping as the guest in their house) but one or both of them have nightmares the first night and robin ends up on the couch with him anyway.

after a few nights they get the gist of the stobin dynamic: attached so strongly its concerning but nothing... flirty. anything they do is always completely innocent. hand holding with no heart eyes, banter with no tension, hell even sharing a bed they resemble little kids in a sleepover pile more than lovers. and especially after nightmares they'll find robin holding steve like hes just one of her old teddy bears.

of course theyre still cautious and have their suspicions that theyre secretly dating and just really good at hiding it, they're paranoid parents after all and robins never shown this much attention to a boy ever. but they do relax a bit with it as they're more confident theres no... funny business.. going on. or at the very least nothing thats going to leave robin hurt. they'll have their talks and robin will promise its "nothing like that", but they've grown to like steve so they're sure robin will come to them when shes ready.

now if only there was a reasonable explanation for the middle schoolers that keep showing up. apparently they were also trapped in the fire with robin and steve which helps make some sense of it, but they also sat with them in the hospital. surely if they're having nightmares about the fire they'd go to their parents? they hadn't really talked much with the sinclairs but they seemed like very loving parents and robin follows steve to his little dinners with mrs Henderson pretty often so its not likely that they can't go to their parents about nightmares, but they seem to prefer going to steve specifically. like ringing the Buckley's doorbell at 1 in the morning asking if steves there. and of course they'll let them in and show them to robins room (after calling their parents first, do they even know their childs run off?) where steve was sleeping in a pallet on the floor but is now a glorified blanket pile robins hugging. on her bed, of course. because god forbid theres 2 feet of space between them.

and the kid just joins them in their sleepover pile, dustin usually clinging to steves other side like a baby koala and erica usually finding a spot leaning against robin or occasionally making room in between them

and so more often than not the Buckley's have not one, not two, but three extra children in their house that isn't their daughter, all of them sleeping in a pile on robins bed like theres nowhere else they'd rather be

#stranger things #stobin #platonic stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #steve and robin #platonic with a capital p #platonic soulmates stobin #stranger things season 3 #post-starcourt #devon thinks sometimes

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neonovember · 1 year

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Hello! I hope you’ve been doing okay! I saw that you had requests open and I also saw that you take requests for Carmen? If it’s totally okay of course to request for him! I got into the bear a few days ago and my brain has been filled with nothing but thoughts of Carmy. Would it be okay just requesting something that’s just Carmen being worried/concerned about the reader? He just always sees whenever there’s that tiredness to them when it looks like it’s a bad day, that slump in their shoulders that all too much reminds him of him a little sometimes, just bringing them into the office and his eyebrows are furrowed with that look of concern and his eyes the same, maybe unexpectedly just wrapping them in a hug (Your writing is so cute btw!) 💕

to carry and to bear

ask, it will be my infinite quest to fulfill! love this request so much and i loved writing is even more. i'm going to be so annoying when s2 comes out, especially since i love carmen's character so much! thank you for your request anon <3

carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: richie (yes he’s a warning), unresolved anxiety, horrible customers, fainting

word count: 5k (short for me lmao)

a/n: you know i love a character when i'm completing fics in under a day..lets pray this momentum keeps going

Wrapping yourself tight against the chilly wind of the unforgivable Chicago weather, you watch the city coming alive in the early morning as you walk down the concrete sidewalk of the Beef’s city corner.

Merchants and gazebo have begun to set up shop, their bright red vendor stands a stark contrast to the grey haze of the windy city. Corner stores and cafes have begun to uncover their blinds, dusting away the sliver of droplets that had long since evaporated after a heavy downpour the night before.

it’s slow though.

The mass of cars and yellow cabbed taxis haven’t yet filled the gravel roads, and the surging rush of traffic and uncontrollable road rage the beef windows have been accustomed to viewing hasn't filled the air.

The pinch of cold begins to itch against the cracks in your outerwear. Your trusted winter jacket and gloves had been left at the bottom of your laundry basket and instead you were forced to throw on a flimsy polyester jacket that provided absolutely no warmth.

Your fingers are stuffed into your pocket, trying to hide them from the cold but it is no use. They shake against the freezing air of wind as you push past huddles of men chain smoking and passing coolers of steaming coffee on street corners.

You’re about to go ask for a cup, despite Carmen's disgruntled comments of their huddled group festering near the restaurant. They were a pack of wolves, and whilst Sydney's sandwiches had fended them off for a while, the hole in the Beef’s window was still fresh. Like a cycle, more and more had begun to trickle in from alleyways, leading to customers steering clear from the nearby streets.

Carmen didn’t even like you walking to work this early, you get it, despite being daylight, Chicago had a way of defying social norms. You had paid some attention to the increase in robbing and attacks that had begun to frequent news reports.

It wouldn't have been a problem, walking was always voluntary for you as you had a perfectly fine working car that would drive you to and from your destination with as little as a rumble from its engine. And yet, that seemingly perfect car decided to break down on you this morning, leading to an overheated engine and a smoke filled hood.

So not only did you have to pay for a towing truck to drag away your car to an auto shop you couldn't afford to afford, but you were late. And you hated being late.

Not to mention your sister had called you late last night, asking to stay for a couple nights after her good for nothing boy-friend you would rather call a child had kicked her out after a fight.

She had rambled for nothing short of 2 hours after you had gotten home from the Beef late last night, and the pull of sleep had begun to weigh on you. The exhaustion and deprivation had written itself in the slug of your limbs and the slump of your shoulders.

You had to come in today, there were no rest days even if the Beef wasn't neck deep in debt and Cicero didn't have you all on a leash. Especially if you wouldn't allow yourself one. You had that in common with Carmen, you frequently ignored your own needs for your craft, the same insatiable passion and need for perfection driving you to exhaustion.

The familiar chime of the Beefs wooden doors hit your ears, and you shake off the cold of the city streets, the Beef is warm and you're grateful, sighing as the heat of prepped ovens and oiled pans defrosts your face.

It takes a second before you walk into the busy kitchen when the sound finally reaches you. The screeching sound of Richie's voice bickers with Tina about the next door convenient store being turned into a “pretentious hipster coffee shop that is legally selling dog water to unassuming Chicagoans”.

Dragging on and on about the invasion of gentrification that will soon take out all the good businesses that had been around since his grandfather had come from Sicily. Richie was not from Siciliy. In which Carmen mirrors your thoughts and yells that he is not Italian, and his obsession with the European country has been bordering on creepy.

Ebra is reciting an article about a culinary student that had gone rogue and murdered their entire class, giving pointers on how he himself had to patch up an entire unit of people stabbed by a bent corkscrew. The loud conversations and untethered yelling across the kitchen combines with the malfunctioning arcade that has begun to re-circuit the same sentence for 20 minutes now, digs a deep burrow into your temple.

You stand at the entrance of the kitchen, watching the commotion of early morning prep with a tight grimace, your head begins to vibrate a little, the start of a headache you won’t be relieved from spreading and you have to swallow down the exhaustion that begins to seep in at the sight.

Sydney brushes past you, greeting you with a hello and one of her charming smiles before muttering about throwing that arcade machine out the back. You giggle and it hurts, but you do it anyway because, fuck, you would help her.

You step into the kitchen, and the crew each turn to greet you good morning as you walk past them into the locker bay stuffing your bag and shoes into the cabinet before quickly changing.

Your phone reads 7am and you stuff it into the pocket of your hung jacket before slamming the locker shut. Carmen peeks his head around the corner, nodding at you as you put on your non-slip shoes, calling your name when you don't notice, you flinch before peering up and Carmen waves trying to get your attention.

“Mornin’ chef, didn’t think you were coming in” Carmen remarks, raising his eyebrows as he leans his shoulder against the wall.

“Morning, yeah, sorry about that, uh- shit happened and I had to deal with it all at once. Won;t happen again” You reply, biting back a yawn, before letting your feet fall to the ground.

“It’s all good,” Carmen replies, nodding, wiping his hand on the white towel hanging on his shoulder that was already smudged with stains.

“Just shoot me a text or call next time, yeah?” Carmen replies

“Will do chef” You reply, smiling, before peering out to see Sydney carrying a basket of ingredients

“New recipe?” You ask, nodding towards Sydney, and Carmen nods, running a hand through his curls as he leans forward.

“Well call it trying something. Not yet finished, just needs some minor tweaks here and there” Carmen replies

“I can help Sydney out if you want?” You reply without a second thought.

You already had prep and a marinade you had to make for Cicero’s function he had conveniently told Carmen about the night before, but helping out was second nature to you, it was a part of this family's culture.

Carmen shakes his head, his eyes falling to your slumped shoulder, and the slow but tight blinks you tended to do when you were exhausted.

The second he had peered his head around the corner and saw the slug of your limbs he knew something was up, but he also knew he couldn't force you to relax, you were worse than him, always taking on so much, filling up your cup until it was overflowing.

“No, no, it’s alright, besides, that marinade isn’t going to be easy, I should be asking if you want me to help out” Carmen replies, chuckling, scratching his neck as you curve your mouth into that smile he loves so much. You could be half-dead and he still stares at you like you were the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen.

“I think I’ve got it handled. I remember having to make something similar back at Le Bleu, you just got to get the temperature right or the entire thing gets spoiled. Having more than one person just makes it more confusing. besides, don't you have that meeting with the vendor today?” You reply, and Carmen sighs, nodding

“Yep, hopefully this place looks stable enough to get him to sign, you know I can’t deal with corporate bullshit. Sydney should’ve met up with them, fuck any one other than me” Carmen replies, shaking his head as he fidgets with the hem of his apron.

Despite his numerous accolades, and world renowned talent, he only ever felt at nature in the kitchen. High function parties and elusive dinner bars were things he despised, feeling out of place despite it being thrown in his name.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, you're the face of this place Carmen, you’ve transformed it, you oughta show them the Beef is the best investment they’ll make. Hell you’re the best investment they can make” You reply, and Carmen ears perk at your reply, smiling fondly at your comment. He didn't deserve your praise, and he hated the way the sound of your lips curving around his name shoots through him.

“Are y'all going to get to work or continue eye fucking?” Richie calls, as he passes by the locker bay, and Carmen immediately shakes his head muttering a fuck you before nodding to you, and heading back to his station. You get up from your seated position on the bench, dusting and ironing out the creases in your apron before mentally going over the things you had to complete before opening.

Prep vegetables, then start the veal stock for Cicero's marinade. You had to complete it early, since it had to be chilled for at least 5 hours, any less and the fat would congeal and turn into a complete mess you didn’t have time to fix.

You walk towards your station, stepping over sauce that had spilled onto the tile floors, this crew was amazing in their craft, but god were they messy. You bump shoulders with Sydney as you begin to grate and cut root vegetables and herbs, you have to force your eyes open, blinking several times before dipping your hand into an ice water bucket and wiping your face with it.

Sydney converses with you, and it wasn't that she was boring, in fact you both frequently spend time even out of the restaurant as friends. But you can’t even try to decipher what she says, just sounds coming out of her mouth that you pack away in order to get your job done.

Just cut the vegetables, finish the stock, cut the vegetables, finish the stock, you repeat it like a mantra in your head, unaware at Sydney calling your name. She reaches forward, pressing a soft hand to your shoulder to get your attention.

“Hey, did you hear me?” Sydney replies, concern written across her features as she peers at your disoriented state.

“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?” You reply, avoiding her gaze. You feel her penetrate through you, pitying the exhaustion on your face, probably realising you were a shit chef who couldn't even handle a couple responsibilities.

“I was asking if you could grab me some of the sauce I made yesterday from the storage fridge. You alright? You seem a bit..” Sydney starts, before you cut her off quickly

“Just had a long night, didn't get much sleep” You reply, rubbing your eyes with a hand. What has gotten into you? You weren't foreign to a few sleepless nights and a few too many deadlines you had to meet, hell your entire college and culinary life had been exactly that.

“That’ll kill you, you know” Richie butts in, reaching for a crab cake Sydney had prepared before being swatted away with a wooden spoon.

“What?” You ask, already regretting asking Richie to elaborate on what was clearly some elaborated story he had got stored away

“Go without that good old shut eye a few nights too long and you'll start hallucinating shit, not fucking with you you, don’t you know about the Russian sleep experiment-?” Richie rambles

“Ah here we go” Sydney replies, rolling her eyes

“You think because you went to Paris or whatever prestigious tight ass school you know everything? It’s real, happened right after World War 2, Russians got a bunch of people and just made them not sleep for like months, they starting turning into fuckin' aliens and shit-” Richie continues, ignoring Sydney's sly remarks about Richie's facebook usage.

“Richie c’mon, you know that shits made up” You reply

“Don’t matter, didn’t I tell you about my week long bender during college? Starting seeing my great aunt from the corner of my eye, and I swear she is still there-” Richie replies before getting cut off my Carmen calling his name

“Stop distracting my chefs Cousin”

You chuckle, shaking your head as Richie mutters about the fall of democracy and wipe your hands across your towel.

“I’ll go get your sauce Syd” You reply, and she smiles in gratitude as you turn towards the storage room. The cold air of the fridge wakes you up a little, and you rest your head against the door of the storage fridge, sighing in frustration. Talking to Richie was exhausting in itself, and when you were already running only fumes and second hand smoke you felt like it took the last bit of energy you had left.

You grab the container of sauce written with “DO NOT TOUCH” on its front, it's wrapped in cling film, with no lid and you're careful not to drop it everywhere. It wasn’t heavy, per se, just filled to the brim and without careful steps it was close to tipping out. You walk out of the storage room carefully, before turning towards your station.

“Corner!” You yell, twisting around the corner of the kitchen, before you slam straight into a tall body, jerking back and inadvertently spilling the sauce all across the kitchen floor and onto your shoes. You feel it sink into your socks and drip down your apron, eye twitching in frustration as Marcus starts apologising profusely, you ignore him, dropping down to your knees and reaching for paper towels. You start wiping away the sauce, as Marcus drops down to your level and tries to help, you shake our head looking up at him.

“Stop, Marcus, just stop. I can do it” You reply

“But-” Marcus protests

“We don't need two chefs to clean up a one person job, alright? You need to finish prep” You reply, letting the towels soak up the sauce. You grieve for Sydney, not all of it had spilt, but a quarter of a container wasn’t enough to get through the morning rush, let alone the entire day.

You ignore the spilt sauce all over your clothes, you didn’t have time to change now, rushing back to your station before telling Sydney about the spill

“You serious? I thought I could leave early today, got a friend's birthday” Sydney replies, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You instantly feel guilty, you should've been more careful, and now Sydney would have to pay for it.

“Hey, I got it, let me take that new recipe off your plate. That gives you enough time to get to the party?” You reply

Sydney looks up, rising her eyebrows “No, no I couldn’t possibly ask you to”

“Nonsense, I owe you anyway, remember when I had to leave halfway through the morning to get my sister?” You reply, with a tired smile before Sydney wraps her arms around you, you rub a hand across her back. You can’t really feel her arms around you, it’s like all your senses are delayed, you ignore it as you get back to work, now with another task on your plate.

You finish chopping the vegetables after a short while, usually you were the fastest in the house, but today you lagged behind, finally carrying the vegetables to Carmen who looked at you strange, his eyes staring through you, he swallowed like he was going to say something as you walked away, before stopping and continuing stirring the stock on the stove

By the time the Beef opens, you're still elbow deep in work, you've stayed silent most of the time, waving off Marcus’s apology and instead working, not stopping since you started. You skipped breakfast, and you hadn't gotten a chance to eat, and just when you're about to make yourself something, Richie calls your name from the front counter.

You walk towards the front of the Beef, wiping stains on your apron to look a little presentable to the outside world. Richie stands at the register, flicking a pen in his hand, a look of annoyance on his face.

“What's up?” You ask Richie, as a tall man dressed down in a polo sweater and khakis stares down at you in anger. He’s familiar, someone you had served when Richie had to take his smoke break, and he scrutinises you as you smile at him.

That’s the only way you could communicate with these people, any hint of anger and you’d be written of as angry and unable to control your emotions, you lost your last job because you defended yourself anyway.

“This guy said he came in and you made him something he apparently didn't like, but finished anyway” Richie replies, a knowing look passes between you both and you sigh, you don't have time for this.

“Morning Sir, May I ask what’s the problem” You ask politely

“You suggested to me a dish from the menu, alright, YOU, not me, so don't go blaming me for this, and look what I got, not only does it have nuts, which i hate, it's spicy. Way too spicy, I want a refund, NOW” The man replies, seething, his yelling catches the attention of other patrons, and Richie begins to reach under the table for a bat.

“Well, you finished it all so I don’t know what you-” You begin before the man cuts you off loudly

“Do you think I give a shift what you think? Huh? Jesus fucking Christ, see you just need to do what I fucking say, not argue. Give me a refund before I get you fired from this shit hole you dumb stupid-” The man yells, loudly before Carmen's booming voice cuts him off

“I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you” Carmen replies, clenching his jaw in way that told you he was trying to hold back the rage from spilling out

“Who the fuck are you?” The man asks

“I own this shit hole you piece of shit, and if you don't get the fuck out of my restaurant I'm going to break every single bone in your face with my bare hands".

“Excuse me?”

Carmen laughs, shaking his head before smiling at the man

“I told you”

Carmen drags the man by his collar, throwing him onto the sidewalk and dragging his body to the alleyway, you fear what he is going to do and Richie raises his eyebrows in astonishment.

“Well shit cousin, you ain't a pussy after all” Richie mutters under his breath

You can faintly hear the sound of splitting skin and the crack of bone, before Carmen storms back into the restaurant, eyeing all the patrons who are following his every move.

“Y'all got that? Anyone mess with my people hear and your walk out on a fucking stretcher” Carmen replies still seething with anger, before Richie claps loudly as Carmen walks back behind the desk.

“Call a fucking ambulance” Carmen replies, rolling his eyes at Richie before he walks towards you, the the tension immediately leaving him as he find your safe and away from that man.

“You alright? He didn't hurt you or anything?” Carmen asks in concern, his eyes darting across your body to see any imagined injuries

“It seems you should be asking him that question” You reply, nudging towards the alley of the Bear, chuckling as you shake your head.

“You didn't have to do that you know, iIcould have-” You start

Carmen looks down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places his hand on you shoulder

“Could've what? He was screaming in your face and I wasn't about to let him think that shit was okay, god, how could you not react?” Carmen replies, looking down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m just so busy, I still- Fuck, i still got to get Cicero's marinade in the fridge, and i need to start on Syd’s broth” You mutter pressing your fingertips to your temples.

“What? You’re doing Sydney’s load as well? Hey, you need to sit down a second” Carmen replies, as you begin to walk back towards the kitchen, with Carmen hot on your heels, asking you to stop and turn to him.

You hear him call your name, but the mountain of tasks that were now even later due to that customer had begun to seize your consciousness.

All you could focus on was the dishes you needed to make and the pain in your temples that had begun to spread down, your vision getting fuzzy around the edges as you try and shake yourself awake.

“Dammit, listen to me! Stop cutting fucking vegetables and listen to me” Carmen yells at you for the first time, twisting your body to face him and you spit out in anger

“What?!”

“What’s gotten into you today?” Carmen replies, yelling

And you don't know why, but that question breaks something in you, and you can't help but let out a short chuckle. Carmen looks down at you in horror, trying to reach for you, to catch you when the inevitable happens and you look at him once before it does.

Before your vision begins to blur and the edges begin to burn like a flame, you try and catch yourself, but it’s too late and you fall into Carmen's arms, wrapped up against his chest as you crash.

Carmen gathers you in his arms, his heart breaking beneath his breasts, holding his sweet girl in his arms as the streams of tears dampen his shirt. The rest of the crew watch on in concern, and Carmen shoes them away as he carries your unconscious body to the office.

“What the fuck Cousin?” Richie calls

“Hey, hey, is she alright? What -what happened?” Sydney replies in horror as she watches Carmen carry you from the kitchen.

“What happened was, ya'll did fuck all when she was practically breaking down trying to finish everyone else's fucking mess. What happened? Are you fucking serious? If i wasn't there, she would’ve fainted into a burning skillet of your fucking vegetables Sydney” Carmen replies, shaking his head, the entire crew goes silent, the only sounds coming from the beeps of ovens and stove tops, and the sizzling of burning food.

Carmen goes quiet, as he assesses your state, there is something unwritten in the way he holds you, and he blinks tight, his face twitching a little as if he had to make sure you were in his arms, the only place he wanted you to be.

“Get back to work” Carmen replies, quietly, a stark contrast to his rage from before, the crew has never seen him like this, his eyes and focus on you, as if he has been seized by this responsibility and dying need to protect you. He can hardly breathe, his arms shaking as he stares down at your sullen and tired face.

“We need-” Marcus starts before Carmen shakes his head

“No, no, enough. Sydney will hold down the fort, this is my responsibility. Get. back to work.” Carmen replies

—-

Carmen wastes no time to gently place your body onto the scuffed office couch, pressing a hand to your head, before reaching for an ice cold container of water, dipping a towel into it before gently pressing it to your forehead.

Carmen shakes his head in anger, he should've seen this coming, he should've noticed from the slump of your shoulder and your one word answers that you were stretching yourself too thin.

Carmen tortures himself as he replays the moments before you fainted into his arms. The way your features twisted into a sob, and the lasts shred of resolve snapped, and you had reached for him, you had reached for him.

You had reached for Carmen when you fell, and something in him broke when he had caught you.

Carmen had been used to his own self-destruction, but as he rested his thumb, rubbing circles and wiping away the tears on your face, he wished himself to change, not just for him, but for you. How could he? How could you be such a poor example to you? This was his own fault, and the reality of that conclusion twists like a knife to his gut.

His sweet girl, his Sunshine, who had thought the needs of this goddamn sandwich shop was more important than her own. You begin to stir in his arms, and the tension and shake of his arms begins to release as you wake up, Carmen eases you into consciousness when you begin to panic.

“Hey hey, I’m right here, you're okay, you're okay” Carmen replies softly, and you squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to understand what had happened and why you felt like your body was filled with lead.

"What, what happened” You reply, looking across the location of the office.

“You fainted, and I carried you to the office because you are not going back into that kitchen” Carmen replies, sitting up from his slumped position.

You stay quiet, confusion lacing your features as you shake your head. You fainted? How did that even happen? You had never fainted in your entire life.

Carmen peers at you, his eyes dancing across your face as your silence frightens him, he wouldn't even recognise you, your usual bubbly, and incredibly chirpy self was not replaced by someone who was so exhausted they couldn’t stay conscious.

“You gotta talk to me baby girl, please, look at me, you can tell me, you can tell me anything” Carmen replies, softly, caressing your hand with his thumb when it begins to shake.

You look up at him, his expression of worry and concern causing your features to twist,

“I um, I’m just a little tired” You reply, the beginning of tears choking you, causing your words to rush out as you try to stop yourself but it is fruitless, and Carmen eyebrows kind of pinch, he kind of frowns a little as he looks at you in that way.

It's all it takes before you sob, and sink into the coach. Carmen gathers you once again in his arms, and scoops your legs so that they lay across his thighs, and your head rests against his collarbone.

“I know baby, I know, I’m sorry, Oh honey I am so sorry” Carmen replies, rubbing your back as you let the last of your resolve sink into his chest, the cry of your tears leaving you speechless.

You can’t stop crying, the cup spilling over and making a big whole mess, snot and tears and heartache and exhaustion dirties Carmen's chef whites and you can't help but grip onto him like he is the only thing tethering you to Earth.

You don’t have to tell Carmen then, he knew the second you walked in, and he knows now when you hold him. There's a certain grief Carmen feels when he looks at you and sees himself, and in a way this is for Carmen too.

You sit like this for a while, you and Carmen. Wrapped in his arms as you lay across his lap, long after the tears had run dry, where you are left with hiccups and the soothing touch of Carmen's hand across your back.

It feels like you two are the only people on earth. Everything is Carmen; its all you smell, all you feel against your skin, all you hear as he whispers into you ear. No one dares to step into the office doors, even when an hour ticks by, even when the trickle of customers turns into a downpour and the orders never end, the family knows that you need this, that your health was better than money, or happy customers and fuck all.

Even after you have cried your eyes out, the responsibility of work begins to weigh on your body, you still had so much to do with so little time

“But the marinade, and- and Sydney's” You begin before Carmen cuts you off with a soft squeeze.

“Richie’ll handle it, and if he doesn't Cicero can go fuck himself. You really think I’m going to let that override you right now? Just forget about the kitchen alright, can you do that for me, pretty girl?” Carmen replies

You nod, the burden that had exhausted you to sickness lifted from your shoulders. You look towards the clock and realise the vendors were coming soon to meet with Carmen, something he couldn’t miss.

“The vendors, aren't they-”

“They came in 3 hours early, it's why it took me so long to get to you when that asshole was throwing a fit” Carmen replies, knowing what you were asking for.

You peek at him in question “Well?”

“They signed.” Carmen replies, rolling eyes and smiling at your delighted squeal

“What did I tell you? Carmen Berzatto is more than-” You start before a yawn stretches through you.

“Alright, alright, enough talking from you. When’s the last time you ate?” Carmen asks

You stop and scratch your head, trying to think and you laugh a little when you can’t remember.

“I don't know” You reply

Carmen’s eye twitches, and he smiles down at you before easing you off his thighs and onto the coach.

“What- what are you doing?” You ask, not even trying to hide the sadness in your voice. You already miss the heat of his chest warm against your cheek.

Carmen smiles softly as he looks down at you, threaded a hand through his head as he wipes down the creases on his apron.

“I’m making you something”

“What? No it’s- it’s okay I’ll eat at family” You reply, reaching a hand out to him

Carmen reaches for your palm, pressing a soft kiss on your the skin of your knuckles before reaching down to kiss the top of your head.

“No you need to eat now, alright? You're going to sleep the rest of the day, and then, and then, you're coming back to my place so I can keep an eye on you. You gonna listen to me or protest?” Carmen replies, eyebrow raised as he crosses his arms. His voice drops down an octane, like it was a command, and you have to bite back the desire floating in your stomach at the way he looks down with his eyes all heavy from above.

“Okay, alright, whatever you say Chef” You reply with a smile, and Carmen sinks his teeth into his bottom lip when you say it like that.

“Just wait a sec” Carmen replies, and as he is about to leave you call for him again

“What are you even making, half the ingredients are gone”

“It’s no problem, it’s your recipe anyway” Carmen replies, with a hint of a smile on his face before he leaves the room. It takes you a while, half because you're exhausted and the other half because you're hungry before the realisation hits you that he's made a recipe for you, about you.

You can't help the smile that stretches across your face, goddamnit Carmen Berzatto, and you say you aren't a romantic.

2K notes · View notes

aperrywilliams · 15 days

Text

It Was Horrible Until It Wasn't (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Part 1: If Anything I Find It Educative

Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t

Part 3: Douchebag Falls Short in This Case

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader comes up to her apartment after Spencer walks her home from the diner, where they spend the last couple of hours. She is still processing the night and wonders if they will meet again. Another fortuitous event makes that happen. In which terms they will part ways again?

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Mention of guns (tests to carry a gun). Mention to Reader's ex. Some strong words? IDK what else. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: I got very excited after your reactions and comments to "If Anything, I Find it Educative." So this is kind of part two, from Reader's perspective. I'm not convinced about a series yet, even if I have some ideas. What would you like to see if it happens?

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Reader's POV

-----

As I open the door, a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered on the floor greets me. That reminds me that I haven't unpacked all my things yet.

I've only been living here for two weeks, and I'm still getting used to the idea that this is my new home.

It doesn't feel like it yet.

But the boxes will be a problem for tomorrow. Now, I only want to take off these high heels and this fancy dress and call it a night - a pretty eventful night.

Not only did I have to confront my ex with his new girlfriend, but I also had to pretend I was okay with it. But how did I expect to do that? Did I genuinely think two months would be enough to be outside again to prove I got myself up?

How naive of me.

I make a beeline to my bedroom, not even bothering to look at the rest of the apartment.

Again, it's tomorrow's problem.

Retreating my phone from my purse, I plug it to charge over my bedside table as I strip from my clothes and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine.

The entire time, my mind doesn't stop wandering. At some point, it settles on the girl I helped from choking. It was a total coincidence for me to be there. I only approached the bar for another drink when I heard that man rambling. I don't know why my ear perked up, but it did. When I look to find the voice's source, my eyes land on the man and the girl by his side.

He was talking as if the world would end if he didn't, and the girl only eyed him from head to toe, clearly not giving a damn what he was saying. I kept subtly listening to them while sipping my drink. The guy's voice had something enchanting. I would have heard him talk for hours if it were from me. It was a bad thing his interlocutor wasn't so receptive, and when she occasionally said something, it was a flirting remark that only made him uncomfortable.

What a shame.

When I noticed her fighting to breathe, swatting her hands in desperation, and the poor guy froze on the spot, I knew I needed to do something.

I didn't think much of it and wrapped my arms around her torso to help her. It worked. The oyster she choked with flew into the air, and she could breathe again.

But the next thing I knew, her palm connected to the man's cheek.

The poor guy seemed so confused, and the people talking around didn't help either. What a shitty situation. And as the good citizen I am, I tried to do something about it, only to get lashed out by the same woman I just saved from choking.

Fuck it.

Seeing the people's attention returned to them, I walked away. That wasn't my fight in the first place.

Returning from the bathroom, I hear my phone ding. It's a text from my friend Andie.

Andie: How did the gala turn out? Did you see him? He was with her, right?

Andie had insisted on me not going to the gala, although I repeated to her several times that it was okay, that nothing would happen, and that I couldn't hide forever.

Me: You were right. I wasn't ready.

It's a defeat I must recognize. I wasn't prepared to see them.

Andie: My girl, I'm so sorry. It must have been awful for you.

It was, but it doesn't mean the night was a disaster.

Me: It was horrible until it wasn't. I can tell you more tomorrow. Now, I only want to go to bed.

Andie: You have me a bit confused here, but okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight; I love you.

I return my phone to the charger and slip under the covers.

It was horrible until it wasn't.

I keep thinking about that. And a smile tugs the corner of my lips. Since Spencer - the guy who got slapped by the oyster-choked girl - approached me at the terrace, the night wasn't that awful anymore.

Who would have thought I would end my night in a diner, dressed to the nines and spouting details of my messy life to a stranger?

Monday morning comes faster than I wanted.

I spent my Sunday mostly unpacking boxes and tidying my apartment, and now, with a coffee in hand, I cross the hall to my office on the third floor of the FBI building in Quantico.

Some colleagues greet me as I pass by. I return them with a polite smile. I saw a couple of them at the gala on Saturday. I only hope they didn't notice the wreck I was that night.

On my desk, a pile of hundreds of manila folders are waiting for me.

This Monday will be a blast.

Dutifully, I reach for the first folder to start my work, as my ear perks up to two colleagues' conversation about the gala.

"Did you see them? Those hot chicks from Counterterrorism?" a male colleague says to another.

"Yeah. I heard one of them was hitting on Reid from the BAU. What a waste!" The other adds.

"And the lucky bastard wasn't able to take her home. His nerdy charm didn't even help him with that."

The mention of the BAU brings Spencer to my mind again. And I realize I don't even know his last name.

I don't think I need to know, but I can't stop my fingers from typing 'Spencer FBI BAU' on my computer.

My findings make the conversation between my colleagues intriguing. They were precisely talking about Spencer, Spencer Reid, and the girl with him at the gala. Clearly, the incident did not go unnoticed.

I don't like the tone they refer to him, either. I do not know the guy well, but I'm sure he's way better than any of the men at the venue that night.

Are you hearing yourself (Y/N)? That kind of blind trust put you in this situation with your ex in the first place.

I shouldn't grant credibility so fast, but honestly? Spencer seems to be everything but a threat. The things he said, the way he spoke. Anyway, I should stop thinking about that if I want to finish some work. Yeah, that's what I need to do.

Drowning out the noise, I return to the opened folder and continue working.

Some would ask how a task as monotonous as the one I'm doing now could be appealing to someone. The appeal for me comes from how everything fits in the right places and serves a purpose. That's enough for me, even if some people don't understand it.

My ex didn't. And as him, many others.

I'm still fighting to ease the effects their judgments had on me.

Around lunchtime, stopping the papers review, I pick up my phone to check my messages. Yesterday, I promised Andie I would have lunch with her today, so I'm checking for her confirmation and a place to meet.

Just in time, a text comes. She is free right now and suggests a restaurant just outside the building.

"Hey, girl! I'm glad you made it," she greets me as I spot her on one of the tables.

"Of course. I promised I would."

Lunchtime is only one hour, so we order quickly and go straight to the matter.

"I can't believe the son of the bitch decided to go and show off his new conquest," Andie huffs.

"Not that new, considering she has been sleeping with him in what used to be my bed at least a month before I discovered it," I correct with an annoyed look.

It's good to say these things without crying my eyes out anymore.

I tell Andie more details about how it went to share a space packed with mutuals around us and try to stay composed.

"But at some point, I just couldn't. So I retracted to the bar. I only wanted to grab a drink and be alone."

Andie nods in understanding.

"I don't blame you. So you were at the bar when you crossed to the girl to whom you did Heimlich?"

Yesterday, by phone, I told Andie the main facts regarding that, and after laughing for a solid five minutes about the whole ordeal, she made me promise to reveal more details in our lunch meeting.

That's why I'm describing what happened piece by piece.

"She slapped the guy? And she yelled at you? What a bitch! But I don't understand why he apologized on her behalf."

"Honestly? I didn't understand it, but it made sense after talking with him. The guy felt responsible, even if it wasn't related to him. It was the fact that someone had to do the right thing," I explain, with my eyes fixed on my water glass, recalling Spencer's words from that night.

I can't help but feel some fondness for his genuine worry. Andie raises an eyebrow and hums.

"The guy made a good impression on you, I see."

Andie's tone is teasing, and I know exactly where she is heading.

"Come on, don't start with that," I warn her. I'm not thoroughly annoyed, but I'm not in the mood for teasing. Andie scoffs.

"I'm just saying it's good to know there are men out there that give hopes up. That's all!"

"Sure," I mumble, not very convinced by her explanation.

The rest of our lunch follows a similar tone. When I finish telling Andie about Spencer walking me home, I know she is biting her tongue to say something to taunt me, but she holds back and opts for a question.

"Do you think you'll see him again?"

I ponder my answer. I don't know, although I remember Spencer asking, 'See you around?'

That doesn't mean we agreed to see each other again, even if I said, 'Sure, why not?'

Did Spencer mean that? Did he want to see me again?

"I don't know. Maybe. We both work in this building, so there are chances, I guess," I shrug. Andie narrows her eyes.

"But do you want to?"

That's a question I don't know how to answer, so I take some seconds to think about it.

"Let's say I'm not opposed to the idea."

A reply that could be an understatement. But not I'm telling Andie that.

She doesn't press on the matter, though. And I'm grateful she doesn't.

Now it's time to go back to work. We walk out of the restaurant to our building and separate ways at the elevator. Andie continues to the eighth floor when I hop off on the third.

Returning to my desk, I continue checking the folders piled on my desk, and my mind only focuses on that, knowing if I don't, there is no chance of getting this stack finished.

----

A good thing about the week progressing is nobody talking anymore about the damn gala. It's been a nightmare since Monday when everyone had to mention something about it. That included comments about me facing my ex there.

Of course, it was public knowledge I was dating an agent of the Criminal Investigative Division. Also, it became public knowledge he cheated on me with his current girlfriend from Counterterrorism.

But finally, it is Thursday, and everything seems to have returned to normal, so much so that the amount of work has increased exponentially. That's why I'm still at the office at seven pm.

I only assume it's time to go home when my boss pokes out of his office and calls for Andrew, one of our coworkers who distributes files and memos to the other departments.

I turn around, and it's only me at this hour. My boss notices the vacant office and is now talking to me.

"I guess I have to ask you to do this. Can you go to the sixth and drop this to Aaron Hotchner's office? I would have waited until tomorrow for Andrew, but this must be at his desk today."

I don't think I have a choice, so I pick the folder, promising to drop it before going home.

With my coat and purse, I grab the folder and stroll to the elevator.

I have been working here for four years and know every financial detail of each Quantico department, but I still need to recognize all department locations in this facility. So, floors are just floors, except the eight where Andie works.

Arriving at my destination, I walk into a bullpen, where I can see a lot of desks and offices. And just like my floor, it is almost empty. Anyway, I see one of the offices with lights on. My instinct tells me that's the place I'm looking for, and the plaque at the door confirms my suspicions: SSA Aaron Hotchner.

"Come in," a voice comes from the office when I knock.

Peeking inside, a stern-looking man is glancing in my direction. "Can I help you?" he asks with a slight frown.

"Yes, sir. I'm with the Finance Division, and my boss asked me to bring this to you," I explain as I reach out to hand him the folder. When he grabs it, realization washes over the man.

"Of course. Thank you very much-" Agent Hotchner trails off.

"(Y/L/N)," I supply, knowing he wants my last name.

"Thank you very much, Agent (Y/L/N)."

Weird.

Everyone in the finance and administrative department refers to each other only by last name. We use the 'agent' thing mainly with those who do the fieldwork, and we are used to that.

"You're welcome, Agent Hotchner," I smile politely, ready to leave the man's office. He nods approvingly.

"Hotch, sorry for interrupting you, but I'm ready with my report. I thought you wanted it-"

A man talks, entering abruptly at the office. He stops in his tracks when he sees Agent Hotchner isn't alone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were with someone. I can come back later," he apologizes.

Wait. I know that voice.

I turn, and I see Spencer standing there. His eyes meet mine, and I feel my cheeks burn. He doesn't say anything but doesn't tear his eyes from mine.

I don't know how many seconds pass, but it's enough for Agent Hotchner to intervene.

"Reid?" he calls Spencer's attention.

"Uh?"

"The report. It's okay; you can give it to me," he tells Spencer, not without subtly bouncing his gaze between us.

"Oh. Okay." Spencer approaches Hotchner's desk, but he still directs glances at me. I want to say hi to him properly, but it doesn't feel okay knowing the man in front of us is undoubtedly his boss. I don't want him to feel uncomfortable. So, I take that as my cue to leave.

"If you excuse me," I tell Agent Hotchner, signaling my departure. Spencer looks at me, and I give him a subtle smile.

"Of course. Thank you again, Agent (Y/L/N)."

"To you, sir. Have a good evening."

I walk down the stairs to the open bullpen and toward the elevator.

Before I can push the go-down button, a voice calls my name. It's Spencer's.

"(Y/N), wait!"

I turn and see him trotting towards me.

"Hi!" he says once we are face to face.

Now I feel bad. Spencer comes here to say hi, and I didn't greet him properly just two minutes ago.

"Spencer, hi. I'm sorry, I should have said something there, but I didn't know if you wanted him to know- I mean, I supposed he was your boss, and I-"

What's wrong with me?

Why can't I explain myself without stumbling with my words?

"No. No. Don't apologize. It's okay. I should have told you something, too. But I didn't expect to see you here."

"Me neither. My boss sent me here instead of one of my coworkers, who left early. I didn't know this was the BAU floor. What a coincidence, uh?" I play cool, shifting my weight from one foot to another. Spencer nods in agreement.

"Totally. It's good to see you, though. I hoped we could cross paths again."

Isn't it weird that his words have produced a funny tingle in my stomach right now?

"Is that so?" I half-breath, noticing his cheeks turn a shade of pink.

"Yes. I mean, I truly enjoyed talking to you that night," he sheepishly admits.

I more than enjoyed it, Spencer.

"Yeah, me too."

Silence sets between us. And it's time to make a decision. I could say I go home and leave him with a lukewarm 'See you around,' or say I'm leaving, but before doing so, give Spencer my number so we can talk soon. Or...

"Are you busy right now? I'm heading home now, but if you can and want, we can go for a coffee."

Wow (Y/N). Very smooth. I like you smooth.

Spencer's eyes widened, and I wondered for a second if my offer was too straightforward.

"If you have plans, it's okay. We don't have to," I relent.

"Oh, no. I don't. And I would love to go for a coffee with you," Spencer hastens to say. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Yeah?"

"Sure! If you wait for me just a second, I'll pick my things from my desk, and we can go."

----

This time, it's my turn to pick the place.

It's a small coffee shop in the middle of Virginia, just mid-way between Quantico and my apartment.

As we get on the train, I ask Spencer about Agent Hotchner.

"Hotch? Well, he has been at the unit for twelve years now. Gideon, a former agent, told me once he didn't expect Hotch to last long in the BAU. But he proved him wrong. Indeed, Gideon left, and Hotch stayed. Honestly, I can't picture the BAU with another unit chief."

There is a fondness when Spencer talks about Hotchner. I can tell he sees him more than as a superior.

"What about yours?"

Now is my turn to talk about my boss.

"Agent Williams? He is a bureaucrat from head to toe. He had just transferred from another administrative department when I joined the financial division four years ago. At that time, he had ten years working with the FBI. The guy is a genius but lacks social skills. I'm not judging him; I'm a bit like him. But in his position, he needs to make politics, which involves talking and convincing people."

The conversation with Spencer flows so well and easily that I'm as impressed as I was the night of the gala.

When we reach the coffee shop, we sit facing each other. After ordering our coffee, we start talking about our coworkers.

"So Garcia is our technical analyst. I have to say she is like the team's heart. Besides her outstanding skills, her compassion and care are something out of this world," Spencer admits, and again, I feel the fondness in his voice.

"She seems very special," I add. Spencer nods.

"Very. I don't know what it's like to have a sister, but if I had one, I would have liked someone like her.

So he doesn't have a sister. Does he have brothers, though? We have yet to talk about our families, so this is the first piece of information I get about it.

"What about the guy who came to check what was happening with your girl at the gala?" I ask, and Spencer scoff.

"First of all, Ashley isn't my girl. I think she made it pretty clear that night. And secondly, the guy in question is Morgan, the culprit of why I was with Ashley in the first place."

That's interesting. I want to know more about that.

"How is that?" I ask, sipping my coffee.

Spencer tells me how Morgan insisted they talk to the girls - Ashley and her friends - and how he reluctantly followed him.

I'm about to make a not-so-kind remark when Spencer gets ahead of me.

"I know it may seem like he is a thoughtless person, but he truly means well. I can't entirely agree with his tactics most of the time, but he's right when he tells me I should enjoy more and work less."

"It's safe to say you weren't 'enjoying' that much there," I quip, air-quoting the word 'enjoying.' Spencer chuckles.

"Yeah. Honestly? I have more fun when Morgan kicks doors down in our field chases than when he tries to play wingman for me."

What? Kick doors down?

"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the FBI had to spend thousands of dollars in repairs for third parties last year because of him?"

I know I'm being dramatic. It's impossible that just one agent destroyed that amount of dollars by kicking doors. But still.

Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No! I mean, yes. He does that, but thousands of dollars? Last time I checked, doors are not that expensive."

I roll my eyes. That's not the point.

"Okay. I know it's not only Agent Morgan's doing, but did you know the buro's budget had increased by 4% last year due to refunds for field operations? And did you know 70% of that increase refers to agents shattering private property?"

Now, I sound like my boss. Great. I became what I swore to destroy.

Spencer looks at me with amusement. I narrow my eyes to him. "What?"

He clears his throat. "Oh. No, nothing. It's just - well, it's fascinating to hear you talking about - uh - numbers."

I can't help but snort. "Come on, how fascinating that can be?"

Spencer grins. "If anything, I find it educative," he parrots my words from that night, and we fall into a fit of laughs.

"Yeah?" I muse after the laughter subsides. Spencer nods, still a smile gracing his face.

Gosh, that smile.

"Well, I can talk about numbers all day. But I'm sure you don't want me to 'fascinate' you that much."

Spencer hums, faking be pondering his options.

"Don't tempt me. I like to know and talk about everything. But before returning to numbers, I want to ask about your coworkers. I already talked much about mine."

Even if there is not much to say, indulging him with an answer is only fair.

"What can I say? In my area, there are three: Anthony, Leah, and me. We were four then, but Andie was promoted to the eighth floor a year ago. Anthony is a good guy, a little inexperienced, but very eager to learn. We don't have a very close relationship, but he's my protegee at work. Leah is very clever and has enough experience, but sometimes she is not present, making things a little tense between us. Andie is rightfully my friend. We got to the bureau simultaneously, and although she doesn't work with us anymore, we are very close."

Spencer is looking at me with full attention. It's odd to talk about this kind of thing with someone. I don't like to talk about my bonds in general. It makes me feel vulnerable. But for a reason that I still don't get, with Spencer, it feels right.

It's night already, and we are in our third coffee.

"Do you usually drink this amount of coffee daily at this hour? I try to cut off my dosis after lunch, but sometimes I just can't," I point as I stir the spoon on my coffee. Spencer hums.

"I drink a lot of it at any time of the day, every day. It's worse when we are on cases because that shitty coffee at the precincts should not even be called coffee," he scoffs, pouring half of the sugar pot into his cup.

I have already noticed the amount of sugar Spencer has used in his two previous coffees; this third is not the exception.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," I say as my eyes dart to his sweet liquid. He follows my line of sight and chuckles.

"I love coffee, but I don't like its bitterness. I know it doesn't make sense, but for me it does."

"Fair enough."

After that, our conversation stumbles to lousy sleep habits.

"Ray hated it. Even once, he told me I purposely got up in the middle of the night to annoy him."

Spencer's brow furrows.

"Ray is your ex?"

Shit. I don't realize I'm talking about him.

Why do I have to mention him? I hate how ingrained he is still in my life.

"Yeah, Raymond. No wonder why things didn't work out between us," I try to joke because I don't want to cry about it anymore.

"An example of a man," Spencer follows my lead, and I'm grateful he doesn't look at me like people usually do when I talk about it. There is no pity. There is no that look saying, 'Oh, poor girl who got cheated on.' It's like a whole understanding. It doesn't make me feel like a failure. And that's a change—a good one.

I chuckle. "Hell, he is."

It's getting late, and it's time to part ways, even if I don't want it. Hours pass quickly with such good company.

"We should get going. It's late," I point as I glance at my phone. Spencer nods in acknowledgment, signaling the waitress to get the check. He is about to fish his wallet when I stop him.

"No. Don't do that. I invited you."

Spencer scoffs, opening his wallet nonetheless.

"No way. You invited me the other night. You can do it next time."

Next time, uh? I want to say something teasing, but the waitress returns with our check.

We are outside the coffee shop now. I adjust my coat as Spencer does the same with his suit jacket. The night is chilly, and the contrast with the warmth of the coffee shop is evident.

"Can I walk you home?" He offers. I have my doubts about that. It's not that I don't like the idea; I just don't want to use more of his time.

"You don't have to. Really," I shake my head.

"Please? You already said it. It's pretty late," he insists, looking at me with dog puppy eyes.

Why is he doing that? He is testing my resolve.

"You know I can take care of myself, right? I'm a certificated FBI agent. I can't carry a gun, but sure I could manage," I argue in a teasing tone. Spencer chuckles.

"I know you are. And I'm sure you could. Even though, why no to prolong our evening for fifteen minutes long?" I raise an eyebrow.

"So you really like my company, uh?"

I'm sure I see a blush creeping his cheeks, and it's endearing.

"I like your company. I thought I made it pretty clear the other night?" he probes. And I don't know how to respond to that.

The truth is quite curious. Teasing Spencer seems so natural sometimes, but now I don't know what to say.

I decide not to say anything and nod, motioning for us to start walking.

Spencer follows me, and we walk in silence for the first block. Then, I feel the need to continue our conversation. I want these fifteen minutes to be as good as the previous two hours.

"Did you know that I used to carry a gun? Although it took me three failed tests to do so."

Spencer looks at me, surprised. I take that as my cue to tell that story.

Once I tell him how I finally managed to pass my shooting test, he starts telling me how he also failed his test a couple of times.

"So you saved your boss life shooting an unsub?" Spencer nods.

"But I really aimed to his leg, not his head," he adds, and we burst into a fit of laughter.

Without realizing it, we are already in front of my building. The laughter subsides when we notice where we are.

I clear my throat. "Well. Uh-thank you. Again," I say, referring to him walking me home.

"No need," Spencer says. "I had a good time today," he adds, smiling.

I can't help but feel my cheeks burn. Spencer casts his eyes to the ground.

"Me too," I admit, biting my bottom lip. "I - uh."

Why am I so nervous right now? Just say what you want to say!

"I - uh. I'd really like to do this again. I mean, you know, maybe next time could be something planned?"

Spencer's eyes flick to mine. I would say he didn't expect me to say that.

"I would love that," he says, keeping eye contact. And for a moment, I think the breath leaves my lungs. Those eyes are something I didn't see in my life before. I can't describe it, but it's enough to make me speechless.

"I guess it's here when I ask for your number?" Spencer's voice is the one that brings me out of the trance.

I chuckle, mid-embarrassed by my absorption moment. I gesture for him to give me the phone. Spencer does it, and I advert his piercing gaze to focus on typing my number. Once done, I return the device with a playful smile. Jeez, I feel like a damn teenager.

A snort leaves Spencer's lips when he sees the name I used for my contact.

"Really?" He asks. I nod, chuckling.

"It's safe to say you won't forget who I am," I confirm.

"Bet I won't."

"Good. Now I'm going to come up," I gesture to the building. "Good night, Spencer."

"Good night, (Y/N)."

I turn to enter the building, and although I can't see him, I feel him standing there in the cold night until I disappear into the elevator.

Once I cross the threshold of my apartment, a ding comes from my phone. Frowning, I pick it up.

Unknown number: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. SR.

I bit my lower lip. And after typing a reply, I start my night routine before bed.

Oh, boy. What are you getting into (Y/N)?

Whatever it is, it feels so good.

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

Next -> Part 3: Douchebag Falls Short in This Case

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

A/N 2: As always, I'm excited to know your thoughts about this one!

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #aperrywilliams #amanda perry williams

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leilanihours · 4 days

Note

can you write something based of so high school about Caitlin?

# SO HIGH SCHOOL

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

word count: 1290

warnings: drinking, suggestive content

summary: caitlin’s drunken actions have you feeling like a lovesick teenager

from lani: hi anon! hope you like this! it’s my first time writing for caitlin sooo enjoy!

FRESH OFF IOWA’S final four win, the girls are all drunk off of cheap liquor and post-game adrenaline. after beating uconn in the march madness semi-finals, the group of young hawkeyes decided to celebrate by going out to one of their local bars.

when they practically begged you to join them, you insisted against it. but there’s one girl that you would follow through a storm, so there’s no questioning how quickly you agreed to come along the second caitlin joined in on the begging.

the whole night had been a rollercoaster of emotions, thus far consisting of a childish game of “marry, kiss, kill” (a result of gabbie having one too many drinks).

———

“hey guys, what was that one game people used to play as teenagers?” gabbie wondered out loud.

“you’re gonna have to be a little more specific, babe,” jada responds, giggling at her friend’s state.

“the one where you, like…pretend to marry someone?”

“gabbie…what?” kate chimes in.

you and caitlin had been listening in on the team’s conversations from the table next to theirs, but not being entirely present. if you were completely honest, you had no idea what was happening. the drink in your hand and caitlin’s sculpted hand on your upper thigh definitely didn’t help.

“oh! ‘marry, kiss, kill!’” she recalls finally.

“oh my gosh, i haven’t played that since i was like, what, fifteen?” jada comments.

“can we play it?” gabbie exclaims, “pleaseeeee.” she was quite a character whenever she was drunk (because how can someone so tiny hold in so much alcohol?).

after some laughable convincing, you and caitlin ended up sitting at their table ready to play along.

“okay, kylie,” gabbie starts, “marry, kiss, kill jada, kate, and hannah.”

“hmm..” kylie hums, “marry kate, kiss jada, and kill hannah. sorry, hannah. if fuck was an option i would definitely pick that for you, don’t worry,” she finishes with a wink towards her.

“wait you have a point. let’s replace kill with fuck. we can do that, right?” gabbie rambles.

“whatever you want, girl,” jada laughs, sipping on her drink.

“okay, okay,” gabbie scans the group in front of her, choosing her next victim, “caitlin! marry, kiss, fuck…taylor, me, and y/n.”

are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

your eyes can’t help but shoot to caitlin’s as soon as you hear your name. for a split second you hold contact, but she breaks it as she looks up in thought.

everyone had always sensed a tension between you two, especially after seeing you engage in a nearly 2-minute long hug after the game. but no one knew that behind closed doors, you two were locked in.

you subconsciously bite your lip waiting for caitlin’s response. it’s just a game but you can’t help but picture you two in each scenario, the last one leaving a subtle blush on your warm cheeks.

it’s just a game, but really

“um…” she starts. and it’s like she has the same brain as you because you can’t believe it when she’s smirking saying, “can i pick all three for one person?”

i’m betting on all three, for us two

———

which brings you to now, only a couple hours later, where your freshly manicured fingers are laced with caitlin’s long ones under the table. you’ve been deep in thought, practically psycho-analyzing cait’s prior response.

and in the brink of a crinkling eye, i’m sinking, our fingers entwined

she had to be talking about me, right? you think.

you had been together for nearly a year, but you still feel slightly unsure in your relationship. before you can spiral into a cycle of overthinking, you feel a set of lips inch close to your ear.

“are you okay?” you hear. turning your head slightly, you are faced with your girlfriend’s familiar smile, a small glint of concern in her eyes.

“mhm,” you nod, “all good. are you good?” you can tell she’s getting tired; after the insane game and the so-called “after party,” you notice a more relaxed slump in her posture and a couple eye rubs every now and then.

“definitely,” she says, her eyes scanning your face.

she scoots even closer to you (if that’s even possible) and without regard for her teammates just across the table she puts her face in your neck. you’re now practically 100% sober, but the feeling of her lips ghosting your skin could get you drunk in an instant.

“you ready to go home?” she whispers, “wanna spend some alone time with my girl.”

if you weren’t blushing before, you had to be bright red now. how could you say no to her? that word wasn’t even in your vocabulary when you’re with her.

cheeks pink in the twinkling lights

“‘course, babe,” you reply, bringing up one of your hands to rub her arm.

after you both bid goodbye to the rest of the group for the night, you pile into caitlin’s car. you insist on driving as your girlfriend was in no shape to be in control of a moving vehicle.

———

you dig your hand in caitlin’s jacket pocket in search of your apartment keys. she’s almost putting her entire body weight on you, heavily influenced by the sleep dragging her under.

you successfully unlock the front door and pull her inside taking off her shoes and jacket, throwing them somewhere random. you then urge her into your shared bedroom, sitting her down on your bed as you retrieve a set of sweatpants for her.

neither of you have said a word since you left the bar, as caitlin fell asleep on the ride home and you were still processing her answer to gabbie’s question.

pulling off caitlin’s jeans, you notice a suggestive smirk on her face as she observes your position. for what seems like the hundredth time tonight, you blush feverishly at the hands of your girlfriend.

standing up to change yourself into some pjs, a hand pulls you back. suddenly you’re stuck in between caitlin’s long legs as she sits at the edge of your bed with both her hands on either side of your waist.

“hi,” she smiles sleepily.

“hi,” you reply.

“can i tell you something?” she asks. you hum. “i really like you. like a lot.” you giggle at her confession.

“yeah? how much?” you decide to play into her theatrics.

“so much. was thinking of you when we were playing that game earlier.”

“were you really?” thank god.

“‘course i was. i think you might be it for me. i mean, you got me feeling like we’re in high school the way you look at me. taking such good care of me all the time.”

‘cause i feel so high school, every time i look at you, but look at you

you smile sincerely at her answer, mentally laughing at yourself for ever doubting her love for you in the first place. you haven't had many relationships with girls, so you’ve never felt for someone the way you do for caitlin.

no one’s ever had me, not like you

you place a quick kiss to caitlin’s lips in response, then tell her to get into bed with promises of cuddles. you change into your pjs and crawl next to her under the blanket, feeling her curl into your warmth immediately.

with her head on your chest and your arms engulfing her toned frame, you feel yourself surrender to your exhaustion. but before you can fully fall asleep, you hear caitlin make one more comment that would never have you questioning your relationship again.

“i’m betting on all three for us, you know,” she mumbles into your shirt (her shirt), “two down, one to go. just you wait.”

you already know, babe.

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fauustic · 10 months

Text

protective miguel o'hara drabble

you didn't hear this from me but i'm making a miguel series and its taking a lot longer than i thought (first chapter already is pushing 10k words sheesh..) and i'm having possessive miguel thoughts so i needed to GET THIS OUT OF MY SYSTEM...

If Miguel had his own way outside the Spider Society and all that, he would have Lyla escort you to and from wherever your errands took you under the guise of "needing company," or as an extra precaution of staying safe.

In reality, Miguel is an anxious man. He wants to keep everything that could possibly go wrong at bay, always trying to stay five steps ahead of whatever could possibly happen. So when he comes to find out that someone had hit on you as you were out with friends, he was livid.

Of course the one time you're not wrapped in his own embrace or cuddled up in the side of his hip one late night, someone tries to take the opportunity of seeing you all alone and a little bit vulnerable, tipsy and stumbling against the arm of your friend-- contorted in a way that would have been uncomfortable if you hadn't downed a couple drinks hours before.

You had let it slip when calling him, all giggly and oblivious to the world from being a lightweight. "Migs," you had murmured into the crook of your neck, cradling the phone that let out little chuckles from your boyfriend. He's still not used to seeing you drunk, the neither of you were really big drinkers unless you were celebrating something for work or you had been roped into a socialite outing from Miguel's position at Alchemax. The Spider Society never really had anything worth going out to drink for, or maybe Miguel just never wants to hang around them too frequently. His mood always changes whenever he brings up what he does, so you haven't brought yourself to pry any more.

His tone was lax, if not a little awake. You assumed he was driving through the midnight traffic once he heard the words, "I miss you, I'm ready to come home." And Miguel always requests for you to stay on the phone with him until he sees you, until you're swallowed into a hug that threatens to crack your back because he hasn't seen you all day and he's a bit desperate for your warmth.

"What is it, mi alma?" His voice met your ears in that playful, tired way whenever Miguel catches on that blissful, drunk tone of yours's. Raspy with a hint of sleep as if he's been trying to stay awake for you despite being exhausted after a few days of little rest. You would have felt bad for keeping him awake at a time like this had you not been thinking hazily, but deep down you know he couldn't sleep without you either.

Another giggle hissed through your dopey, toothy smile. Your happiness must be contagious because you could hear his own curl of his lips when he encouraged you to spill your thoughts for a second time when you left him hanging.

"You wouldn't believe what happened tonight, baby," you slurred into the receiver and he hummed. Your ass met the concrete hard when your legs suddenly felt like jelly, the dim street lights casting a soft ambience on the side of the bar. You only felt a little vulnerable when you found yourself alone on the phone with the little reminder that your lover is still on the road. "This, this stranger tried to make a move on me. A move!" You babbled as if it was the most surprising thing in the world, "And it's so crazy because I was like, heaving over the table like my last mixed drink was about to send me over the edge. I was not at my best."

The gentle chuckles on the other end came to a halt as soon as you brought up someone else, a stranger who you didn't even remember the name of. Miguel's quietness never caught your attention as you continued rambling on about it in your drunken state, holding your free hand to your forehead to try and stay upright against the wall of the bar.

"And, obviously I was like, 'ew, who the fuck are you? I have a boyfriend-'" You had mocked yourself in exaggeration, and when you heard Miguel's stiff huff of laughter on the other end you couldn't help but laugh in blissful unawareness. "But they wouldn't shut up and even had the audacity to pull me up towards them,"

Miguel had interrupted you this time around, an eerie atmosphere to his tone. Cold, a little distant. It put your hazy mind on edge, though he would never do anything to you. "Who was this.." He paused for a moment, and you could see the hand signals he would conjure when trying to find the word for something. "Stranger? This person?"

You caught your breath when he mentioned he was minutes away now before you answered his question, a warmth settling over your chest at the inevitable entanglement of limbs the moment you find yourself face-to-face with Miguel.

"Ah, some.." Your brows scrunched, trying to remember where the mysterious flirt was from until you realized it was a work party. "Co-worker, different department, obvious prick. Hated the way he spoke to me, was trying to explain some stupid shit at work that I obviously knew how to do."

"Love," He practically cooed into his phone, and you could see the way he shakes his head in both adoration and disbelief whenever Miguel uses such a gentle pet name. Such a simple one, but the way he looks at you as if you're the entire world and more rivals whatever paragraphs he could possibly write to express his feelings for you. "I need a name,"

"You do not need a name, Migs." You laughed, and you could hear the whiney scoff of his when you caught onto his antics despite being drunk. "That worries me. I don't need you getting hurt." And you swear you could hear a small whimper, the gentleness you give him causes his insides to twist and turn painfully. Always in a tunnel of self-depreciation, he tries his best to accept the sweetness oozing from your lips, but Miguel can't help but admit he's still not used to it.

Miguel knows he isn't perfect, the insecurities flow from his exhausted tongue frequently when he's surrounded with your touch and presence every night. But when he hears you off-handedly mention how someone tried to take you away in the unknown of their home, something inside him cracks just a little bit more whenever a situation like this arises.

"Baby," By each passing moment he stayed quiet, you felt yourself sobering up. Your worst days was whenever Miguel needed space from you for whatever took ahold of his mind, those nasty thoughts that tell him something differently than what you embed within his very being. If this conversation triggered something, you would respect it without a second thought-- but the idea of being without Miguel after such a taxing week had you hold back the emotions threatening to bombard your delicate state of mind. "Migs-- Miguel, what's wrong baby? Why aren't you talking, honey?" You pleaded into your phone, briefly checking to see if you had accidentally hung up.

"Fuck," you murmured to yourself, your phone falling to your side as your other hand met the bridge of your nose- a habit you've developed from the one you love. What a silly thing.

A car door sounded throughout the humid night air nearby, and you brushed it off as another person consumed by the nightlife. Probably going to down a couple beers to forget, is what your muddled brain distractedly made up to try and stop yourself from crying. Swiping at your cheek with a pathetic feeling pooling in the bottom of your stomach, you weren't sure whether the wetness meeting the pads of your finger-tips was the fog or tears dripping off your lashes.

Your name rings throughout traffic lights and bustling cars like a prayer, boots crunching pavement until pristine-white etched with red met tears cascading onto the curb. The breath you were close to being choked up on was caught in your throat as the calm he desperately tried to exude cracked the moment he caught the cries slipping from your skin.

You unraveled your posture, straightening your neck up to meet his gaze. Miguel didn't hesitate to drop to his knees and take you into his arms as if he was a child hugging a stuffed animal. His nose met the crook of your neck and he breathed in deeply, as if he had taken a moment longer to get here you would had slip away from him- fading into the city streets like a ghost.

"Why didn't you respond?" You practically whined in his shoulder, immature and woozy from the tipsy still lingering. He only held onto you tighter, scooping you up into his arms like you were the most fragile thing in the world.

He mumbled into your hair as you returned the hug and closed your eyes, drawing into a comfortable lull from the safety of his embrace.

"What was that?" A genuine question, you couldn't hear his grumble with his mouth full of your hair. But he only scoffed, and leaned down to brush his canines against the shell of your ear, sharp yet feathery. The contrast was like a bucket of iced water dipped over you, shocking yourself out of that drunken fatigue. His words came out of as a whisper, hint of jealousy as well as protective concern.

"Worried sick, mi corazón. I'm not going to sleep until I know that bastard who put his hands on you," It came out less like a threat and more like a promise, softened by the plush of your curls meeting his lips in a kiss. "El muchacho necesita una lección, hmm?" A chuckle rolled off his tongue as he swung open the door to his sleek vehicle, setting you down with utmost care. Before you could protest, Miguel took the seatbelt in his hands and buckled you in himself- sweet and slow and everything he wasn't implying.

"Miguel, I don't need to be waited on hand-and-foot." You complain once his left hand found purchase on the steering wheel, all for show you assume because in the year of 2099 you had flying cars and automated driving and genetic splicing. But he was smooth, you had to give him that, as his frown kept a cheeky little smirk at bay. His free hand found comfort in the fat of your thigh, thumb stroking the fabric that hugged your figure nicely. He made no move, keeping the gesture innocent with genuine affection.

Miguel's not one to really show physical affection out of the confinements of your shared apartment, but ever since you had mentioned the threat of someone else trying to dumbly scoop you up and send you on your way alongside them- Miguel had kept close. Noticeably so.

His hand found itself snaking around your back and resting against the flesh atop your belly button, wedging you within the curve of his side. Miguel had always been the one to be a bit whiney, but when you denied him the opportunity to allow him to sink his fangs into the softness of your neck and angle of your jaw, he'd accidentally pout in an unexpectedly cute way and brood like a ruffled pigeon. You never allowed yourself to tease him about it though, or else he'd catch himself doing it and stop himself. The loss of such a cute expression donning his permanent scowl would have you in shambles.

Miguel's not exactly the worst with words per-se, he could explain the parallels of universes and what exactly makes them tick in harmony with effortless ambition-- but when he's faced with the pure adoration swimming within your irises as the both of you do the most mundane tasks; cooking and washing dishes, piled up on the couch for a movie you had dragged him to watch- Miguel would grow subtly emotional to the point he would have to stalk up behind you and engulf you with a hug, a stray tear or two meeting the ridge of your shoulder. And you'd hold his arms meeting the bridge of your ribs, whispering; "It's okay, darling. I'm here, here only for you."

And he'd kiss the blemishes upon your skin in return, a silent thank you as he nuzzles into your very being- the constant need to be as close as possible undermining the physical touch he craved so desperately from you. If he could use his claws to carve into your ribcage and take shelter next to your beating heart, maybe for once Miguel would be able to sleep easily.

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara headcanons #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara drabble

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nathanielzalexandria · 1 year

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Fannon Steve Harrington is such a "you never asked so I never explicitly said (because I thought it was a known fact/obvious and I wasn't hiding it and I did mention it)" girlie and I appreciate it...

So here's some rambly angst.

The fall of 1984 was an absolute fucking nightmare for Steve. He had no friends, no girlfriend and no parents and the upside-down returned. To be fair, by simply choosing to be and stay with Nancy after last year was the main reason why most of his friendships by virtue of Steve pulling away. Nancy cheating on him and then leaving him for Byers crushed his soul and self-esteem but he should have seen it coming when he returned to school after missing a week to attend his parents funeral and she didn't acknowledge any of that, only focusing on the guilt eating at her from hiding Barbs death from her parents. It had crossed his mind to bring it up to Nancy what was going on in his life but... when they died in that accident it was all over the news and he had told her he was going to Italy to bury his parents.

His father Aidan Harrington, an Irish Hawkins born, was a famous international operatic tenor. It was during the production of La Traviata that his father met his mother Emilia and their romance and careers grew from there. They eventually got married and had their baby Stefano Harrington. So for the first few years of life he travelled with them to different productions until they eventually settled down into semi retirement until he turned 14.

It was Steve that pushed his parents to get back into opera once he entered high school. He was old enough to take care of himself and he had a phone so he could call every night. So when they died in a car accident on their way from the Opera house in Italy, Steve in that moment couldn't help but blame himself for their death. The crash was plastered over screens and the papers as the music community mourned heir loss and the funeral in Italy doubly so -now with his face attached. And for that week, he didn't cry

He had expected when he returned some acknowledgement of the event but, other than one band geek with the curly hair, that did not happen. So he did what he did best, ignore it and go to a party with Nancy on Halloween. Then everything with the upside down unfolded and there was no time.

By the time he returned from the hospital to his empty home, he broke down. He was now completely alone with no support system. Its probably why he reached out to Owens for a therapist. If it wasn't for Dr Kelly... Steve wasn't sure if he might have stayed around long enough to meet Robin and he certainly would not be around to save Eddie...

Which is how he ended up here.

In the hospital.

In a hospital bed and the rest of the party stuffed into the room.

El and her group had arrived at the hospital half an hour before and were exchanging stories from the past few days. Apparently, El was kidnapped, had regained her powers and was able to stop Vecna with the help of the guy with the amazing silky hair. Steve just watched them from the bed, trying not to move too much

"Xiomaro Argyle. But I prefer Argyle, dude" the man with the long silky hair introduced himself to Steve. somewhere in the background, Steve hears someone say, "his name is Xiomaro?"

"Stefano Harrington, but everyone calls me Steve," he replied. One of the kids echoed Stefano.

He hadn't expected Argyle's response. "Wait -like that opera couple my yaya always listens too? What were they called?"He paused as he racked his brain before snapping. "Adrian and Emilia, right? My grandma was crushed when they died in that car crash. She light's a candle for them every Dios de los Muertos. Sorry about that bro."

And at that, Steve's world froze, because this was the first person other than his parents to say those words to him. He quickly wiped the tear from his eye before the other's could see. He hadn't realised that the room had quieted.

"YOU'RE PARENTS ARE DEAD?" Dustin yelled.

Steve barely had the chance to speak when Nancy cut in, angry, for some reason.

"When did this happen and why didn't you say anything? Jesus H Christ, you're always hiding from your feelings like some macho idiot and you neve confront anything!"

Nancy had continued to berate him but Steve zoned out. Chest feeling tight with the boiling anger growing behind his sternum.

"I. did." He interrupted simply.

"No you didn't."

"I did because

You were still my fucking girlfriend at that time and it would be shitty of me not to tell you

I had to go to Italy to bury them at my mother's family cemetery according to their will. It would be wrong if I didn't tell my girlfriend I was going to be missing a week of school and why. Which I did the night I learnt about their death and I came by your house."

Nancy faltered a bit at that, losing some of her righteous fury, but she pressed on. "I would remember something like that, Steven"

"No you wouldn't. The same way you can't seem to remember that my name is Stephano and not Steven even though I told you that and it was all over my stuff home."

Her mouth clicked shut at that and an embarrassed blush covered her face. On a normal day, he would have stopped there and maybe vent to his therapist but he was still raw from the past few days and Nancy toying with his emotions only to forget about him once Johnathan came back.

"Okay, let's say I didn't tell you. My parents' death was everywhere including their funeral and you didn't see it although you always read the papers. I was not in the country for a week, which meant I was not at home for a week, and thus not in school for a week and you didn't notice that I your then-boyfriend just disappeared? You didn't think to question where I was, if you did notice, when I got back?"

There was no answer. He couldn't stop the bitter laugh from bubbling up

"Fuck. You really weren't paying attention to me? I just thought you were feeling guilty about barb and trying to fix things for her parents which is why you didn't say anything. Not just that I registered so low on your list of importance that my words just flowed into one ear and out the other."

He was getting worked up and his therapist would be disappointed that he didn't stop there. "And what about the rest of you? You saw my parents and just what? Assumed they abandoned me or something?"

The silence was now suffocating, and Steve could not stand their ashamed looks at each other.

"And none of you asked me any questions about it?

"You know what? Fuck you, Nancy! You're standing there on your pedestal, calling me a "macho idiot" that I'm hiding from my feelings as if I would have had anyone to talk to seeing that you and Johnathan avoided me once you started dating. Newsflash! That's why I have a fucking government therapist I see every Wednesday since 84!"

He let the last statement hang heavy in the air like the sword of Damocles over the group before deflating and flopping back In his hospital bed, emotionally spent. Eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Everyone, just... just leave."

He waited until he thought he heard everyone leave and looked back down, startled when he saw that Eddie was still in the room.

"Don't be too hard on the shitheads for too long. For all their collective intelligence they are still a pack of idiots too sure of themselves to not consider that surface-level Steve is all that exist."

Steve said nothing to that, already feeling shitty for blowing up on the kids, and a little less shitty about blowing up on Nancy.

"Anyway, you also seem to forget that I wished you condolences that week so maybe yoy should not be too hard on them."

At that, Steve focused on Eddie, wracking his brain and being confused with its results.

"You were a band kid?" Steve asked incredulously

Eddie lazily shrugged, "It was a phase. Now, seeing that it seems that you have it on your chest heavy enough that just hearing their names almost made you cry; tell me about your parents, Stevie."

In Steve's chest, he felt something... Flutter.

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

This one got away from me, but this is all I have. This is slightly inspired by a post I saw from piratefishmama about Steve having good parents and everyone just assumed they were bad people even though they never asked him any questions (it's deleted; don't look for it). And don't ask me why they are opera singers my brain just latched onto that being their profession and why their death was everywhere.

#this is the moment Steve falls in love with Eddie #outside the room Johnathan is trying to get back into argyle's good graces because argyly isn't happy Johnathan was such a bad friend #Nancy is reassessing her relationship with Steve and is catatonic #Robin and the party are trying to figure out what to do to make it up to steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #just thoughts

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kbagraces · 2 months

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Curious Time - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Singer!reader

Multiple part series where their friendship was easy, their feelings were confusing and the distance was the hardest <3

(3rd person perspective)

PART 1 -

INVISIBLE STRING

"All along there was some invisible string, tying you to me."

She met Pietra at a social event for rising stars and hit it off, the two of them had been completely joined at the hip from the moment they met. Until she met her now boyfriend Max, she was unbelievably happy for her when she found the love of her life, but as they grew closer, she felt as if she were vacant in her life for the first time since they met. That was until she introduced her to her boyfriends best friend Lando.

There was no one in the world like Lando, his child like energy she adored but also deeply admired his ability to switch to serious as soon as shrugged on his race suit. His passion for the sport was beautiful.

He admired her equally as much, she wasn't on the level of notoriety he was but her love for producing and singing was something he was envious of. She was one of the main reasons Lando dabbled in a short live career of DJing, spending countless days with her in the studio sparked the side hobby for him. However short winded it was he loved watching her craft and collaborating with her on his sometimes questionable beats.

Lando loved that she wasn't afraid of sharing her opinion with him either, jokingly jibing him suggesting that he should stick to the day job when another screech comes from his MacBook. In a career which can lead you to be surrounded by 'yes men' lando was grateful for her, she really was a breathe of fresh air to him in their nearly two years of friendship.

But that's all it was. A friendship. There had been a few drunk nights when he'd picked y/n up from parties with some work colleagues, a little too drunk and a little too lonely where their hands would wander a little too close as he guides her to his room. A cuddle in his super soft bed, his lips lingering on her shoulders as his large tee hangs off her frame. But nothing more. It was an unspoken rule between the two of them.

It was an extremely spoken about rule between y/n and her best friend however.

"Staying at the boyfriends still, I see" Pietra giggles over the phone. Her friends phone propped up against some random parcel on Landos desk, your make up scattered around infront of her. "Didn't fancy a hotel, no?"

"Haha, your jokes are hilarious as usual." y/n mocks, despite the laugh her face deadpanned.

"And no. 1. He's my best friend who I haven't seen in about 2 months and 2. Shut up he is here he might hear you." She lists, flicking mascara onto her falsies blending the two together.

"You worry too much, we say the exact same things to him."

Gliding the last coat of gloss over her lips she mumbles, "What time is the car coming to yours so I know what time to get my chauffeur out of bed?"

Despite the extra rooms at Lando's, Max and P decided to stay in a hotel not too far away. After all they are the ones in the actual relationship and need the privacy.

"Be here for 8, cars coming at 8:30 and we're meeting the girls at 9. I need to get a move on! Love you see you in an hour." She rambled not giving her enough time to reply as she's already hung up the phone.

Y/n had been at Lando's for nearly 2 weeks now glued to one another side in the days he's not keeping up with training or interviews for podcasts. She thought tonight she'd give him a couple hours to himself, get out of his and spend the evening with a couple of the girls.

Before waking him up she wanders over to one of his spare rooms which is now filled with her suitcases. Y/n was a notorious over-packer but she liked to be prepared for every possible scenario that she could ever face.

She opens one of the suitcases designated for going out wear and pulls out the two options folded on the top. Holding up both options, one a halter neck black mini dress and one a simple white maxi bandeau dress.

"The white one." A gruff voice appears from behind her. Her eyes widen but body staying still not letting him aware he'd startled her

She spins to see Lando shirtless, using both arms to hold him up against the door frame. His tanned muscles popping as he slightly swings too and throw.

"Ok Mr fashionista and why the white one?" Lando always gives advice on her outfits, but it's normally out of mockery telling her to cover up, jokingly normally followed with a suggestion of one of his papaya coloured hoodies.

"You've tanned nicely since being here. I just think the white is better for the summer." He states before leaving the room not allowing her to reply.

Since being here there had been a few more subtle compliments from him, which was rare between the two of them. Their friendship was filled with mockery and lightheartedness. His compliments or simple acknowledgments always take her slightly off guard, but she's aware there's no meaning behind them. He probably hadn't even thought twice about any of the things he'd said.

Slipping into the white dress as he'd suggested. She glanced in the mirror he'd brought into this make shift dressing room he'd allow you to take over. He was right. Her tan from being in the sun over here was complimented by the light material.

Despite it being the evening it was still humid, so she threw her hair into an intentionally messy claw clip and slipped on some strappy heels before joining lando in the living room now clad in a white t shirt and his favourite blue quadrant shorts.

He glances over at her, a smile adorning his lips as a subtle yet cocky acknowledgement that she'd listened to his choice.

"Our last week together and you're wasting it on the girls" he mocks a protein shake in his hand, making her assume he'd hit the gym with max after he'd dropped her off.

"I didn't think you'd care all that much. You've been sleeping the whole day!" Y/n joked. "I feel like I need to get out your hair even for a few hours. You've done so much for me over the past week, I can at least repay you by giving you a bit of peace!"

He glances at his phone, 7:50pm, "We should get going, can't have you being late to your girls night" his hands raise and mock a jazz hands motion as he says girls night.

With a roll of her eyes she follows him to his car, letting her pick which of his many she wanted to be taken in tonight. Always opting for his Lamborghini Aventador. As beautiful as his McLarens were the pair had both learnt that the orange wrap drew even more attention to the driver than his oh so simple Lambo.

Opening the door for her, she slide in sideways to low seats. The engine revs as he presses start, and gentle songs fill the car. One of her songs to be exact, her latest single, invisible string. Written with both Pietra and Lando in mind, the two most important people in her life. Pietra was aware and brought to tears when she found out she was dedicated this song. Lando was blissfully unaware that he was in mind as she put pen to paper.

"Liking the new single, huh?" She mocks nudging him gently with her elbow.

"I like everything you make. Your art is one of my favourite things about you" he says nonchalantly, looking past her to check for oncoming cars as he turn out of the road.

And there it is again a compliment she was far from expecting. Usually it'd be something along the lines of "it was getting no listens I was just pitying you" or "I usually skip this one".

She smiles, "thank you." Is all she can muster up as she plays with her nails in her lap. Y/n hates that simple recognition from him makes her feel this way.

They're nearing the hotel, grabbing her bag from the footwell. "Am I picking you up from here or straight from the restaurant?" He questions pulling the car to a halt outside the front of the hotel.

"From here please, I don't know if it's just dinner or P will peer pressure us going for more drinks."

Lando exhales from amusement knowing she would never say know to a party with Pietra.

"Ok y/n/n, just let me know. I'll be waiting."

She leans over to kiss him on the cheek, like the two always do before they depart. However his face also turns to do the same, leaving their lips brushing ever so quickly over one another before they both pull away, red flushing to the two of their faces.

"Anyway!" Her voice uneven and a little too loud, slightly echoing in the car.

"Thank you Lan, I'll message you later!" She hurries out the car exciting the tense air she'd just created. She leans in giving him one last awkward smile.

"Bye, you look beautiful, y/n/n." She heard as she slams the door shut.

Beautiful.

No, she thought. She must've imagined that.

Max meets her in the lobby, trailing behind as he rushes her to their room. Saying that P has some urgent hair related emergency.

Two cancellations of cars later, Pietras meltdown had finally been fixed and the pair were out the door.

"Let's get drunk!" She calls as she shuffles into the car.

Defiantly going to be a late one.

Masterlist

#lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #f1

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itscherrylipsforme · 3 months

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Misfits lovebirds: Sejanus Plinth x Capitol!fem!reader

Summary: The other students from the Academy claimed that you and Sejanus were birds of a feather. And although their intentions while saying that were more teasing than complimenting they were not wrong. The introverted capitol girl and the sweet District two boy, both of them just as opinionated. Two misfits lovebirds. Everyone else sees your couple as fated but you two. But when Sejanus enters the arena, you can help but notice that maybe he is much more than a friend

Warnings: None, but y/n and Sejanus are proud and lovely social weirdos

Requested: yes

Words: 1500

Author's rambles: The anon who left this request is a true genius who likes ranting about Sejanus as much as I do. Sej is just a lover boy who hasn't done anything wrong, I will protect him with my life

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

Ma was baking something in the oven, if it wasn’t for the lump in your throat, you would be eager to try those sweet treats as soon as they were ready. That was what would do during most of your visits to the Plinth’s house. On a normal day, you and Sejanus would have spent the afternoon in his bedroom doing your papers for the Academy, talking and laughing meanwhile. Then his mother would knock at the door with a plate full of cookies or doughnuts and you two would eat them as you shared plans for the future, ideas, or memories until you had to go back home. But not today.

First point, it wasn’t a quiet afternoon, but a closed late night and Sejanus wasn’t even there. Maybe that was one of the reasons why your stomach had closed up even though Ma had been cooking for almost an hour, and she continued trying to offer you all the pastries that were already on the table. Her efforts were useless, you couldn’t eat and keep walking the kitchen back and forth, and she kept baking goods. Each of you had your ways to deal with stress, I guess.

How had you two got to that point? Everything seemed like a blur since your mother was told to wake up by Gaul. An Academy’s car drove you to the Plinth’s and the only explanation you were given was that Sejanus had put himself in danger by entering the Arena. You had to bite your language not to tell your cruel teacher that maybe no one would ever be in danger if the Arena wasn’t opened, and the games weren’t being taken place. An argument with that depraved creature you were forced to talk Mrs. was the last thing you needed right now. When Gaul went to God-knows-where and you were left alone with Mrs. Plinth (Strabo was on his office making important calls as always) you discovered more about the situation.

Sejanus, your Sej, had entered the Arena by bribing the peacekeepers in order to make a funeral tribute typical from District two to Marcus and protest against the games. Coriolanus Snow was now in charge of convincing him to go back home, an order he had received directly from Gaul herself. Damn, you hated your egocentric and selfish classmate. Never really knew why Sejanus seemed to get along with him, and never brought yourself to ask, but now the fate of your best friend was on his hands. Because Sejanus Plinth was just a friend to you, wasn’t he?

Nothing could be better stored in your memory that the day you met him. Some soft curls covering his forehead, his hair used to be longer back then. Big, deep and brown eyes that looked at everything which a mixture of fear and timidness. They were a little red as he had been crying some time ago. When you saw him sitting on one of the benches in the playground far away from the rest of the kids you immediately discovered two things about Sejanus Plinth. First one, he didn’t belong there. Second one, he didn’t want to belong, either.

He hadn’t exchanged a word with you. Being honest, he didn’t have to, you just knew it from the beginning. If you had to said that you were certain about one thing in this world is that you and Sej were misfits, meant to be around each other. You were sure about it since that day. So going against your usual shyness you asked him whether you could sit by his side, he nodded, the two of you started talking and the rest was a story as they said.

As the years passed, your bond with the “district’s boy” as most people called him only became stronger. If Festus was making fun of you for being too quiet, stuttering or not talking at all, Sejanus came to your aid. Someone keep saying that money could buy him a place in the capitol, but he would never be like them, be careful they would have to face with your sarcasm and anger when you were mad. Clemensia was gossiping about how your awkward-self had messed up social cues again during one of the Academia’s balls, Sejanus got you covered. And everything was like that.

By the time you turned sixteen your beloved classmates came up with other ways to annoy you. Sejanus loves y/n paintings in the bathrooms’ doors, fake love notes in both of your lockers, singing ridiculous cheesy songs when the two of you walked by their side… You would have expected them to be more mature, but that word didn’t seem to be in their vocabulary. Sejanus and you weren’t even mad at the jokes anymore, you laughed about them and keep going with yours day.

Your parents, on the other side, didn’t see them that way. Their daughter being friends with someone from the districts was not got for their social status, they nearly tried to drift you apart and forbid you from talking to him ever again! Luckily for you, a dinner between the Plinth’s and y/l/n’s was all that Strabo Plinth (and his money) needed to convince them that his son was a good influence for you and vice versa. Since that evening, Ma had been hoping for the day she would call you daughter, but you and Sejanus were completely unaware of it.

You stopped in your tracks, the sudden realization of something you hadn’t expected. It had been nearly an hour since you arrived and there you were. Only being able to remember all the things you had gone through with him while waiting for an answer of what had happened to him. If something went wrong, if Snow was too late or the Tributes saw him first… Was that what Sejanus would become to you? Just some messed beautiful turned bitter-sweet memories? No, you couldn’t accept that. He was going to be okay. You needed him to be okay.

A knock on the door, that was all you had to heart to head as fast as you could towards the entrance door. Behind tall, serious and cold Coriolanus it was your Sejanus. Eyes as he had been crying a few minutes ago, some bruises, but same broken and apologetic smile. You rushed into his embrace. Soft, warm, comforting and yet somehow firm, just like him. And with his arms wrapped around you, you allowed yourself to cry in relief. It wasn’t long until you had to move to the side in order to let Ma finally greet his beloved son with the same emotion as you did. Snow just looked around, not really knowing what to say or do. And even though he was still close to his mother, Sejanus looked at you. A gaze that seemed to weight thousands of emotions he couldn’t put into words and mean “We need to talk”.

Half an hour later you two were on his dorm, Ma was cleaning the kitchen and Coriolanus and Strabo were talking in his office. You had decided to spend the night in, it was too late to go back to your house, and you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to sleep anyway. Sitting cross-legged on one of his pillows you managed to say, more correctly whisper, the first words of your conversation.

“Please, don’t not something like that ever again”

“I know y/n, I know. But Marcus…” His lips failed to speak, sadness and bottle up sadness made her speech come up as mumbling. The tiredness and the longing for some understanding made him sat by your side in the bed. “He didn’t… He didn’t deserve it. I just wanted to make… to make things right. The games are…” His head leaning in your shoulder, muffling some small and painful cries.

“Sej, it’s okay, I know… I know. I hate them as much as you do” Your hand started playing with his hair, a little trick you had learned a few years ago to help him calm down and never failed “But you could have told me about it. I wouldn’t let you go to the arena on your own if I had known. After all, you are my…” Friend, that was the word that somehow you couldn’t pronounce for the first time in your life, and you knew exactly why “After all I care a lot about you, don’t I?”

“y/n” He whispered in your ear “I know you do, but for once let me take care of you for once in our lives, okay?” One of his hands rested on your neck playing with the edges of your hair “You know, I wasn’t scared of dying in the Arena, the only fear I had back then was losing the opportunity of saying you again” The hand slowly travelled to your cheek “Don’t worry, I am not risking that again” His eyes took a kick and nearly involuntary haze at your lips, and you could notice his pulse becoming faster little by little “Can I…?” And before he finished the sentence, your lips softly landed on his for the first time of many

But for now it was only the two of you holding each other, feeling what you had to keep for yourself too long. Your classmates were right, you were just two misfits lovebirds.

#sejanus x reader #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus tbosas #sejanus tbosas x y/n #tbosas x reader #sejanus x y/n

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babydollmarauders · 1 year

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TEENAGER IN LOVE — TREVOR ZEGRAS

trevor zegras x fem! hughes!reader

pt. 2

request: “hi! can i request something with trevor zegras with the prompts 20 and 23 please? thanks sm!! 💗”

20. “can we stay like this forever?”

23. “sleep over? please?”

summary: in which y/n reminisces on how her and Trevor started their secret relationship.

notes: i changed up prompt 23 a little bit to make it fit better, i hope that’s okay!

i was listening to Teenager in Love by Madison Beer quite a bit while writing this so…

Trevor and y/n are in an established relationship during the first little “present” scene.

reader is 20 in the present and 19 in the flashback.

**PRESENT**

i’ve never felt comfortable on planes. it doesn’t matter where i’m sat or what i’m wearing or who i’m with, i don’t like planes. my family knows this, my friends know this, anyone who will listen to me talk knows this, my brother however, simply does not care. and now i’m stuck on the Devils charter plane, not even sat next to Jack because he’s busy sat next to Dougie, talking about some video game they both play. so i’m left beside Jesper Bratt, who’s already asleep after only being in the air for maybe half an hour.

i didn’t intend to even tag along on this road game to California, but i moved in with Jack a couple months ago and he apparently didn’t trust me to stay in New Jersey by myself, citing his reasoning as “i don’t want any chance of you having boys in this apartment.” but the joke is on him, because he’s really just providing me with a trip to see the only guy he should be remotely worried about, Trevor.

as the only girl, growing up with three brothers, they’ve always been a bit overprotective. and by a bit, i mean a lot. even Luke, who’s a year younger than me, has had his fair share of threatening guys “in the name of my safety.” all of their friends have gotten the “if you even so much as look at my sister, i’ll make sure you never see anything again” spiel, and for a good nineteen years, their friends respected that. until Jack’s best friend, Trevor, and i were left alone for a night at the lake house last summer.

**FLASHBACK**

all the guys have left for a party down the road, they even took Luke along with them for his first party as an eighteen year old, and i’m looking forward to a quiet night of watching romcom’s on the couch with no judgment and no one complaining that “that would never happen in real life!”

decked out in one of Quinn’s oversized Canucks shirts, pajama shorts, and some fuzzy socks; i’m lounged on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket burrito. i’m just about to hit play on a movie on netflix when the front door opens and shuts and i hear footsteps getting closer to the living room. averting my gaze from the tv, i look over in time to see Trevor freeze in the doorway to the living room, and i become acutely aware of my current state of no makeup and probably looking like a dork with my blanket draped over the top of my head.

i’ve never had a problem acting normal around any of my brothers’ friends. usually, they’re all just like extended family, unwanted additional older brothers. except Trevor. when Jack first brought him home during their USNTDP days, i immediately got a schoolgirl crush. and unlike usual crushes, it’s only gotten worse with time. luckily, Quinn and Jack have never seemed to notice my awkward and shy behavior when Trevor is around, but Luke has and he’s made it his mission to send me scowls and snicker at my misfortune whenever it happens.

“oh hey.” he cocks his head in one those ‘sup’ nods and takes a glance towards the tv screen before fixing his gaze back on me.

“hey. what are you doing back already? are the others coming back too? i can go back into my room. i don’t wanna be a bother or anything.” cue the embarrassing rambles.

“nah, it’s just me. feeling kinda homesick, i don’t really wanna be at a party tonight.” he shrugs his shoulder and sits on the arm of the couch next to me. “whatcha watching?”

“oh, i was just gonna watch a romcom, but it’s fine, i can watch it in my room. you can have the tv if you want.” i have to crane my neck some to look up at him from my spot. “i can leave you alone.”

i start to stand up, still wrapped in my blanket burrito when Trevor grabs the back of the blanket and tugs me back down onto the couch. he stands and walks in front of me before taking a spot on the cushion next to me.

“so, what romcom are we watching?” he asks, kicking his legs up on the coffee table in front of us.

“you don’t have to watch it. we can watch something else, if you want.”

trevor’s only answer comes in actions, grabbing the remote from my hands and clicking play on the movie. i don’t bother to fight him anymore, allowing myself to get sucked into the movie instead.

i’m sat rigid throughout the entire movie, keeping aware of my limbs, not letting any stray too far towards the cushion beside me. and about halfway through the movie i remember how weird i must look and move the blanket onto my lap instead of wrapped around me. i can barely focus on anything other than the fact that Trevor is sitting next to me. the fact that i can smell his sandalwood cologne. that if i were to lay my hand next to me, i would almost be touching him.

once the movie ends, i expect him to put on something for himself or even just go to his room, but instead he turns to look at me.

“you okay?” he asks. my eyes widen slightly before i catch myself and revert them back to normal.

“yeah, why?” i try to sound calm, but my voice is slightly shaky, and i’m just hoping he didn’t notice.

“you seem uncomfortable. did i make you uncomfortable? did i do something?” i shake my head a little too violently for someone who’s supposed to be calm.

“no! i’m not uncomfortable! why would you think that? i’m cool.”

oh my god people who are cool do not say ‘i’m cool’, what is wrong with me? he chuckles and i can’t help the small smile that breaks out on my face at the sound.

“i was just checking.” he puts his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “we should play a game.”

“what game did you have in mind?”

“truth or dare? i don’t know, i’m just bored.”

“sure.” i have a feeling this will not end great for me, but i’m not about to let him know that.

“okay. truth or dare?” we turn and sit criss-cross on the couch, facing each other properly as i weigh my options.

“truth.” safest option. he takes a second to think about his question.

“okay, i got one. does it ever annoy you, how overprotective your brothers can be?”

“oh yeah. one hundred percent. they have all these rules for me; don’t drink unless we’re with you, no dating until you’re 30, don’t leave the house unless you tell us where you’re going, don’t crush on any of our friends. it’s overwhelming sometimes. and i can never stick up for myself because they’re so quick to hurt whoever hurts me, which is nice, yes, but it’s definitely taken a toll on how i present myself. it’s made me shy and my friends say i can be a crybaby sometimes because i’ve never had to handle problems on my own. like, don’t get me wrong, i’m grateful for my brothers, they’re always there for me, but sometimes it’s just too much. ya know?”

he nods, genuinely seeming interested in what i had to say, and my heart flutters.

“i can’t say i understand because i’m the older brother in my family, but i can imagine it can be difficult sometimes.”

“anyways, truth or dare?” he ponders his options before choosing dare. “i dare you to text the guys and tell them you just watched a romcom. and you CAN’T say it was with me.”

he groans and lets his head drop back for a few seconds before pulling his phone out of his pocket and typing for a minute. turning the screen so i can see what he just wrote, he lets me press the send button.

To: Jack-Attack, Huggy Bear, Moosey Hughes

just watched this great romcom on netflix called Set It Up. you guys should watch it. 10/10

i let my own head drop back in laughter and let out an ugly cackle.

“truth or dare? you evil little witch” his mocking insult rolls straight off my back when i see the smile on his face.

“truth again.” i shrug when he raises an eyebrow at my safe choice.

“have you ever broken any of your brothers rules?” my mind short circuits. there’s only one rule i’ve broken, and that’s by liking him. do i admit that? or do i just say no? technically, he didn’t say i have to say which rule i’ve broken, so-

“yes. but you can’t tell them that i have! it has to be our secret! they’d pester me to no end until they found out which one i broke!”

“okay, our secret. promise.” he holds his pinky out, waiting for me to link it with my own. a pinky swear. how adorable. fuck. i bring my own hand up, linking my pinky with his before breaking away and setting my hand back in my lap.

“truth or dare?” i ask.

“truth.” i take a few seconds to think of a question. how is this harder to think of than coming up with a dare?

“what’s your favorite part about the off season?” it’s a relatively boring question, but the first one i thought of.

“oh that’s easy. coming here. i love spending time with you guys.” more heart flutters, i may need to get that checked out. “truth or dare?”

“don’t kill me; truth.” i joke and he laughs again.

“i should’ve expected that, shouldn’t i? alright, if you wanna keep doing truth, i’m just gonna dig deeper and deeper until you tell me your darkest secret, y/n. which rule did you break?” my stomach drops. can i forfeit? can i plead the fifth? is that a thing that you can do in truth or dare? i wouldn’t know, this is my first time playing. i think i’m just gonna have to say it. it’s not like he’ll ever know it’s him.

“you can’t tell them! remember that!” i remind him before admitting- “having a crush on one of their friends.”

his jaw drops and he lets out a completely fake gasp.

“that is not what i was expecting. i expected you to say the drinking rule or the telling them where you go rule. how scandalous, y/n! a forbidden romance!” his jokes make me feel slightly better, at least he’s not judging me.

“yeah, yeah! it’s not like i’m dating the guy.” i defend myself. “truth or dare, Zegras?”

“dare, i’m feeling adventurous.”

“i dare you to go in Jacks room and steal my book back for me. he took it away from me because he said reading was boring and this trip isn’t allowed to be boring.” he bursts out in laughter, barely able to form words for a few minutes before he speaks again.

“oh you’ve got me doing your dirty work for you! i respect it!” he leaps up from the couch and within a couple minutes he’s back on the couch, my book in his hand. he tosses it on my lap and throws a wink my way. “one book for the lady.”

“my sanity thanks you. i can’t start another book until i’ve finished this one and it was killing me slowly.”

“truth or dare? although, i don’t know why i bother asking at this point.” i roll my eyes at his sarcasm and decide to throw him a curveball. mostly for myself though because i have a feeling i know what his next question would be if i pick truth.

“dare.” he grins, and for a second i regret my choice.

“i dare you to tell me which friend you were or are crushing on. c’mon, i can keep your secret.” he asked it anyways. what the hell. i don’t think you can do that. can you do that?

“that’s basically a truth! i picked dare! that’s cheating!”

“it is not!” now it’s his turn to defend himself. “i DARED you to tell me! i promise i won’t judge you, or laugh, or tell your brothers!”

oh god, i’m gonna have to tell him, aren’t i? i mean, i could always just say one of the other guys. i could say Alex, he’s always been the sweetest to me, so i’m sure Trevor would believe it. but then he might say something. it’s not that i wouldn’t trust him to keep it a secret if i say someone else, but Trevor has a big mouth, and sometimes he talks without thinking. he could slip up. so it’s smarter not to lie, to avoid any trouble or confusion. so i close my eyes and count to ten before i say it. here goes nothing.

“you.” i still don’t open my eyes. too afraid of his reaction. but now he’s quiet and i don’t like the silence. oh god, is he disgusted? is he trying trying to figure out how to let me down gently? “don’t get weird. you don’t have to say anything. you can just forget you heard that. pretend you didn’t hear any-“

i’m cut off by his mouth crashing down onto mine. i freeze, overthinking everything, before eventually melting into the kiss. moving my lips against his. it’s slow and sweet, and not at all the reaction i was expecting from him. we pull apart and i allow my eyes to flutter back open, watching his face as he slowly breathes in and out. he catches my eye and a wide grin spreads across his face.

“i’ve wanted to do that since high school.” his hands grip my hips and i let him pull me onto his lap, straddling him. butterflies are flying around in my stomach and my heart is pounding against my chest, but i let my body relax into his.

“really?”

“yeah.” he confirms, leaning his forehead against my own. “the first time Jack had me over to your house, he gave this whole lecture about how you were off limits. and i thought ‘no problem.’ but then i saw you, and i got to know you, and it turned out to be a big problem. you’re so beautiful, and then you turned to be this sweet, funny, amazing girl. and god, i could not get you out of my head. i still can’t.”

this time it’s my turn to plant a kiss on his lips, this one a chaste peck. i slouch down and lay my head on his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“can we stay like this forever?” i ask, but before he can answer, his phone buzzes on the cushion beside us, and he picks it up and curses.

“Jack just texted to say they’ll be home soon. he said Cole is wasted and they need to put him to bed.” i pull back and nod my head, moving to get off him. but he wraps his arms around my middle and holds us chest-to-chest. “do you want me to tell him you’re asleep? you can come in my room. we can just cuddle, nothing else necessary. but i just got you, and now i just wanna hold you.”

i smile and nod again, silently saying a thank you to whatever higher entity above granted me such luck as to have him like me back.

“yeah, i’d like that.” we get off the couch and make our way to his room, remembering to turn the tv off on our way out of the living room. he opens the door to his room and allows me to enter first before he comes in.

“you can go ahead and lay down, i’m just gonna change into some sweats first.” he walks over to his opened suitcase on the floor and pulls out a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt before leaving the room, going into the bathroom across the hall. i do as he says and lay down on his bed, on my side facing the door.

it’s not but a moment after he gets back into the room and shuts the door, that we hear the front door of the house open and shut, followed by multiple pairs of footsteps and some mumbling.

“jesus Cole, you could help me out here and actually move your feet.” i can hear Quinn say as he passes by Trevor’s door, i’m assuming helping Cole to his room. Trevor snickers and comes over to the bed, clicking off the lamp before laying down behind me and putting his arm around my middle, pulling me close against him. after about 15 minutes i can feel his breath start to even out, and i look over my shoulder to see his eyes fluttering open and shut, obviously having trouble staying awake.

“you can go to sleep, Trev. i’ll go to my room once i know they’re all in theirs.” i whisper.

“no. sleep over here? please? i wanna hold you tonight.” his voice is soft and low so we don’t get caught, but also laced with sleepiness. i shake my head.

“what if one of them finds us in the morning? you know how my brothers will react.” at my words, he pulls his phone out of his sweatpants pocket and taps a few times before leaning over me and plugging it in on the nightstand.

“there. i set an alarm for 7am. you know the guys won’t even wake up before 10, so that gives us plenty of time for you to go back to your room before they can catch us.” i sigh and snuggle back into him.

“alright. i’ll sleep in here.” he plants a kiss on an exposed spot between my neck and shoulder and i can feel his smile on my skin.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3 #babydollmarauders #anaheim ducks #teenage dream au <3

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onas-batlle · 4 months

Text

Secret Moments in a Crowded Room (p.2 of 5)

pairing: lucy bronze x ona batlle

warnings: excessive comma use (again), and unresolved sexual tension

synopsis: four times Lucy and Ona almost kiss, and the one time they do.

a/n: finally got this one out oml

Ao3 Link

———

Life as a footballer playing in a foreign country meant that finding even a speck of time to see friends and family from home was few and far between. Add on the fact that your little... something, also happened to live in another country meant that it was absolute hell trying to cultivate it into something that would last.

Ever since the wedding, Ona and Lucy had texted regularly, occasionally face timing or calling if they were both free, but things had remained strictly platonic. In fact, Lucy felt that their almost kiss had been entirely wiped from Ona’s mind, except for when she noticed the Spanish player’s gaze drifting further south than her eyes as they spoke through a screen.

One night Lucy was curled up on her couch, a muted Premier League replay playing on the TV, Ona’s face smiling at her from her phone. She wasn’t smiling now, however.

“The derby is soon,” Ona spoke, her brow furrowed in slight worry.

“Yeah? Well, how are you feeling about it? It’s a pretty big game.”

Lucy was all too familiar with the stress of the derby, having played in several of them, if not on the opposing side, and knew the immense pressure that came with it. She knew that the United women’s team had not yet won against the City women, and despite being a City girl at heart, the look on the younger woman’s face made her hope that Manchester United could pull out a win, if only for Ona.

“Very nervous. Dios mío, Lucy! What if I make a mistake and the fans start to hate me? I couldn’t bear it,” came Ona’s reply, Lucy watching as the younger woman worried her lip.

“You won’t, I promise. And the fans love you, so you shouldn’t think about things like that.” It was true, Ona was a fan favourite with the Manchester United fans, and so long as she tried her absolute best - which Ona always did – then they wouldn’t fault her for any mistakes. But Lucy knew that it was perfectly natural to feel the pressure, nonetheless.

“I know it’s a massive thing to ask, but… would you want to come to the derby? Of course you might want to do other things with your weekend off and I don’t expect you to drop everything to come watch the game but-”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?” Lucy replied, interrupting the Spaniard’s rambling and smiling as Ona positively lit up at her words.

“Really? You’ll come?” God she was pretty, Lucy thought as the other woman beamed at her, delighted by the English woman’s answer.

“Of course. I have been missing Manchester a little as well, you know?” she winked as she mentally began to plan the trip out in her mind.

Flights would be relatively easy, the plane to England from Barcelona only taking a couple of hours. There were, however, a few logistics to work out, like where she would stay. Her brother didn’t live in Manchester, Jorge remaining in their hometown, but surely Demi would let her stay, right? Her musings were interrupted by Ona, who seemed to have read her mind.

“You can stay at my place, if you want.” The Spaniard blushed bright red as she made the offer, seemingly embarrassed at her rather forward suggestion.

“Yeah? That would be great if I could.”

“I have a spare room I can set up for you! No hay problema,” Ona confirmed, resting her phone on the table to stretch out her arms and yawn.

“Someone’s tired,” Lucy chuckled and was shot an adorably grumpy look by the woman on her screen. She found her heart tightening as she took in Ona’s pout and had to restrain her entire body from talking a screenshot of their call.

“I think I should go,” Ona spoke, a slightly disappointed expression on her face. “Training was, how do you say? Training was no walk in the park?”

“Sí, that is correct,” Lucy laughed at the Spaniards use of the English phrase, and then she felt her voice softening almost involuntarily. “Goodnight Ona, I’ll speak to you soon.”

After a few more minutes of goodbyes and promises to text each other later, they ended the call, and Lucy collapsed back to lay down on her couch. She was going to the Manchester Derby. And she was going to stay at Ona’s house. Where she lived.

She lay there in silence for a few moments before Lucy’s eyes shot open. Fuck, she was meant to visit Jorge. Once again she opened her phone, immediately dialling her brother disregarding the fact that it was currently 12am.

“Look who decided to grace me with a call at this very late hour, what’s up Luce?” came her brother’s voice from the phone, and Lucy rolled her eyes at his jab.

“Hey Jorge, I know I was supposed to pop around to see the kids my next break, but do you mind if I take rain check? I’ve kind of got other plans.” She knew her brother wouldn’t mind as he was pretty easygoing, and she saw her niece and nephew all the time, so one missed trip wouldn’t be an issue.

“Plans better than entertaining two hyper children for a whole weekend? Can’t believe you would pass on such a fun time, though you always were the boring one, huh, Luce?” Jorge said, leading her to grin fondly. As much as Lucy and her brother gave each other shit, they were close and there was nothing Lucy loved more than her family.

“Oh, fuck off. Anyway, that all good with you? I know it’s last minute and all, and I apologise for letting the kiddos down.”

“That’s alright, I’m sure they’ll survive without Aunt Lucy spoiling them for a whole weekend. What’ve you got planned anyway? Something to do with that Spanish player you’re always banging on about?”

Lucy almost choked on her own spit at those words. She didn’t talk about Ona that much, did she? Now that she thought about it, maybe she did. But the fact that Jorge seemed to think it was romantic was rather suspicious.

“Why would you think that?”

“Whenever we speak it’s all ‘Ona this’, ‘Ona that,’ like Luce, you’re about at subtle as a hurricane.”

Okay, maybe that was fair.

“Stan said something to you didn’t she,” Lucy questioned, almost dead sure that the other Lucy would have said something to her brother, if only for meddling reasons.

“She may have said a few things.. something about you guys being attached at the hip during her wedding?” Jorge responded and internally the fullback cursed her friends for having such big gobs.

“Her and Jordan can’t keep their mouths shut to save their lives. We’re just friends, and I’m going to watch the derby, as a friend.”

“Ah yes, the age old term: friends. You know Stan sent me that picture of you guys at the reception, and I gotta say the heart eyes are remarkable for ‘just friends’.” Despite it only being a phone call, the eyebrow wiggle was so loud that Lucy could practically see it.

“Ah, I don’t know. Think Ona just sees us as friends now.”

“Have you actually spoken to her about it?” Jorge asked, voice taking on a sincere tone that was different to his usual jokey one that he used with Lucy.

“No, and I’m totally okay with that.”

“Okay, okay. But I’m just saying, Keira has moved on so-”

“Why shouldn’t I? I’ve heard it all before.” Lucy let out a sigh. “Look, I’ll talk to you later, yeah? Tell the kids I said hi.”

“Definitely will. And Lucy?”

“Hm?”

“If there really is something there, then I think it would be worth to talk to her about it.”

“Rare moment of wisdom from you there,” she spoke, and while she was poking fun at her brother, she appreciated his interest and willingness to offer her advice.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get used to it,” came the sarcastic retort, and Lucy cracked another smile at her brother’s words. They often teased the hell out of one another, sure, but her brother always had her back and was able to offer her moments of clarity when she was stuck.

“Well, I’ll have a think about it. Chat to you later.”

“Don’t be an idiot Luce!” she heard as she cut off the call, flopping back down onto her back. Manchester here she comes, she supposed.

The trip to England had gone pretty smoothly, Ona and Lucy agreeing to meet up after the match and head back to the former’s place, and so Lucy found herself walking up the steps of Leigh Sports Village without having even caught a glimpse of the Spaniard she had come to see. She had opted to be as incognito as possible, donning an all black outfit, sunglasses, and a cap, and crossed both her fingers and toes that she wouldn’t be spotted as it would only start a huge wave of speculation as to why she was present. Unfortunately, her hopes of remaining invisible were soon dashed.

“Lucy!”

Lucy internally groaned as she heard the Dutch accent yelling her way, and slowly spun on her heel to face the smiling figure of her national team coach. Sarina was waving her over, and it wasn’t like she could blank her, so Lucy reluctantly made her way over to the older woman\’s seat.

“Hey Sarina, didn’t think I’d see you here,” she greeted, sending a smile and a wave to Arjan, the assistant coach of the Lionesses, who was seated next to her coach.

“Neither. I thought you would be in Spain. What brings you to the derby?”

“Um, just was just in Manchester and wanted to see my old club play. That’s all,” Lucy responded unconvincingly, cursing the flush that spread across her cheeks. There was nothing illegal about her going to watch the derby match, so why did she feel like she had been caught?

“Well, would you want to sit with us? I’d appreciate your insight, especially now that Leah’s injured.”

“Yeah, sure,” she relented. I mean, who could say no to their national team coach?

As she settled into the seat next to Sarina, she knew that her anonymity would be well and truly gone. Despite her attempt to remain incognito and support Ona undetected, being seated next to bloody Sarina Weigman hardly made her blend into the crowd, and so she sat down next to the Dutch woman with a touch of disappointment on her features. No visible cheering for Ona was on the cards now, she supposed.

The game started well for United, Hayley Ladd scoring an absolute stunner of a goal, and Lucy couldn’t help but feel ridiculously proud when she saw the jubilance on Ona’s face.

Football had always been a beautiful sport to Lucy, no matter who was playing, but watching Ona was play was positively mesmerising. The way her muscles flexed as she meticulously controlled the ball, and the glitter of sweat that glistened on her abs as she pulled her shirt up to wipe her face had the English fullback positively gobsmacked.

“Lucy! Lucy? Are you listening?” Her coach’s familiar voice pierced the bubble of lust that Lucy had found herself in, and she gave Sarina sheepish smile as she met the older woman’s eyes.

“Sorry, what was that?”

The Dutch woman’s eyes narrowed as she took in her player, and Lucy nervously swallowed under the scrutiny,

“Which one are you sweet on?”

“Pardon?” Lucy replied, eyes bugging out of her head as she stared at Sarina in shock.

“One of the United players. You are involved with one of them, I can tell. You’ve been distracted this whole time and was happy when they scored.” Well, she was caught there. Sarina levelled Lucy with a knowing look and tilted her head in question as the fullback sighed. While Sarina was technically her boss, she had also become somewhat of a friend, and she cared deeply about the players that she coached so Lucy felt rather alright with sharing her current situation. Plus, Sarina could tell when she was lying.

“It’s, uh, the right back. Number two. And it’s not really anything yet.”

The older woman let out a hum of acknowledgement and shot a smile Lucy’s way. “Well she’s a very talented player. Passionate. I like that. Much like you are.”

Lucy blushed at the compliment, always priding herself in playing with as much passion as possible. And she agreed with the initial statement as well. Ona’s football oozed passion; with every pass, dribble, cross, and shot she took, you could see just how much she loved the sport, and Lucy in turn adored her for that.

Midway through the game, her phone pinged, and she was met with a simple photo of Jorge’s TV screen, herself front and centre. Yikes. Well, there was absolutely no hiding now.

The game ended with a late goal from United, leading the Red Devils to their first ever derby win and cementing their spot in the Champions League. Ona was awarded player of the match – which in Lucy’s opinion should always be awarded to her – and she sent a cute little wave in their direction when she spotted the older defender in the crowd, making Lucy blush a little from her spot next to Sarina.

After saying her goodbyes and signing a few autographs for some fans who had noticed her, Lucy headed in the direction of the carpark, having made an agreement with Ona to meet her there subsequent to the match. Surprisingly she only had to wait a few minutes before Ona came barrelling out of the building, sports bag in hand.

“Lucy! We woooonnn!” Ona yelled, dropping her bag and wrapping Lucy into a tight hug, causing the older woman to stumble back a little due to the unexpected contact. Ona smelt like apples and cinnamon, and Lucy couldn’t help but inhale her scent a little until she berated herself for just how creepy that was and forced herself to stop.

“I did see that,” Lucy laughed, “Congratulations Ona. I told you that you had nothing to worry about.”

Ona smiled widely at that, arms still wrapped around the other fullback’s torso. “I’m sorry that you had to watch your team lose, but Manchester is RED!”

“I suppose, but just this once.”

Ona smacked her lightly on the shoulder at that – a move that was starting to feel oh so familiar – and then motioned her head in the direction of her car after noticing that they were attracting some curious looks from passers-by. After throwing her bag in the back alongside Ona’s, Lucy climbed into the passenger seat and made a show of settling down, letting out an exaggerated sigh of contentment and earning a giggle from the Spanish fullback.

“Gotta enjoy being passenger princess for once,” Lucy grinned, winking at the woman in the driver’s seat who laughed out loud for what seemed to be the hundredth time that afternoon. Lucy loved that laugh and made a vow to do anything she could to hear it again, and again, and again.

The car ride was nice, if not a little scary, as Lucy had to grab onto the ‘oh shit!’ bar a few times as Ona hurtled around a corner. The English woman made a mental note that if they drove anywhere together again, then she would muscle her way into the driver’s seat as while she liked just being a passenger sometimes, she valued her life way more.

When Lucy finally stepped into Ona’s apartment, she took a moment to just take in her appearance. It felt incredibly homely, and while it was clean, it still looked well lived in with smatterings of photographs everywhere which made Lucy smile softly. She found herself hoping that maybe a photo of herself might make itself home there one day.

“Nice place you’ve got here.”

Ona blushed. “Thanks. I tried to make it as much like home as possible.”

“Well you’ve done a great job with the decorating,” Lucy smiled, dropping her sports bag next to the door and picking up a mug with the word ‘Penal-tea’ emblazoned on it alongside a graphic of a football.

“The girls bought it to make me more English or something,” Ona rolled her eyes as she noticed the mug the English fullback was eyeing, causing Lucy to let out a laugh. “Anyway, come sit!”

Lucy didn’t need to be told twice as she threw herself onto Ona’s couch and watched on as the Spaniard grabbed a few snacks before kicking off her shoes and coming to rest next to Lucy. They fell into easy conversation, TV playing an old rerun of Friends (“Joey is so funny, Lucy!”), and Lucy had never felt lighter.

Neither of them had even noticed that they had gravitated towards each other until Lucy’s eyes flicked down to Ona’s lips and noticed that all she would have to do to capture them with her own was to tilt her head forward a few centimetres.

When she moved her focus back up, she saw that Ona had that look in her eyes – the same one she had at the wedding – and Lucy swallowed nervously under the Spaniard’s intense gaze.

She suddenly became aware of every single point of contact between them, their shoulders that were pressed together, Ona’s feet that rested over Lucy’s outstretched legs, their hands that brushed together ever so slightly, and Lucy felt her body start to tingle.

Ona was so close that Lucy could count every freckle on her face, and a sliver of bare skin of her stomach peeked out from where her shirt had ridden up slightly. She was wearing fuzzy socks, always being one to feel the cold, and there was a little smudge of chocolate on her lips which Lucy longed to kiss away.

Slowly, if not surely, they found themselves leaning in, and Lucy could just, almost…

BANG!

The sound of the door slamming forced the footballers apart, and they practically threw themselves onto opposite ends of the couch.

“Oh-na!” came Ella Toone’s bellowing voice, and the familiar tones of Alessia’s voice soon filled the apartment as well.

They only had to wait a few moments until the two girls barged into the room and came to a dead halt in front of them, faces painted with looks of surprise.

“What are you doing here Luce?” Ella asked, blinking owlishly at Ona and Lucy while Alessia’s mouth slowly spread into a knowing smile.

“Uh, Ona invited me to watch the derby,” she managed to get out, still rather shaken by her moment with the other fullback and the rude interruption that followed.

“Well, that was nice of her wasn’t it?” Ella laughed, realisation slowly dawning on her face as she took in just how awkwardly Ona and Lucy were sitting as they attempted to be normal.

“Yeah, super nice,” Alessia added, her voice wavering as she threatened to break into giggles as she nudged her best friend in the side. Ona looked mortified.

“Anyway, we came to ask if she wanted to come out to celebrate the win with us, but we’ve decided that you’re both coming.”

With those words, the duo was on them, and Lucy could just catch Ona mouthing an apologetic ‘lo siento’, before Alessia and Ella were dragging the both of them every which way to get them ready to go out.

As she was being ordered around by Ella, Lucy silently cursed the world for being a massive cockblock, and knew that there was likely no way in hell they would get a minute alone now that Ona’s teammates knew the English woman was in town.

Her only consolation was that at least she knew that based on the two ‘almost kisses’ they had shared, she was not simply imagining the tension between them. Gritting her teeth as Ella threw an outfit at her that she had scavenged from Lucy’s bag, she made a silent promise to herself that she would get that kiss - at least before the World Cup began in a few months’ time.

#lucy bronze x ona batlle #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze #ona batlle #woso fanfics #woso imagine #my fics

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azrielsbabyg · 9 days

Note

Hi! I saw on an Az fic you wrote that you were taking requests. If you still were, I'd love some bondage with Kallias smut. Or if you'd prefer not to write smut, maybe reader is Illyrian and her wings are cold?

Hellooooo thank you so much for sending in this request! 🫶🏻 I'm not yet sure how to write smut or even go about it but I am not opposed to it. Maybe someday in the future I will post something related to smut. I also don't really write for Kallias because I know nothing about the man 😭. For now, here you go! 💖

Warnings: None. (If I need to add something lmk)

Type: Fluff, comfort.

Word Count: 1193

Pairing: Kallias x Reader (Fem)

FROSTBITE

Drip, drip, drip.

The water slowly trickled off of the icicles lining the cave. Everything went wrong. So wrong. You were a spy from the Night Court. One of Azriel’s specially trained and Rhys’s most trusted. There were rumours of a rebellion starting in the Winter Court and he was concerned it might flare up to be more. However, that was all it was. A rumour. You could gather no intel, in fact, you even managed to piss off a couple of people because you probbed them too long unnecessarily.

Which now led you here. Far out into some random cave on some random mountain, trying to find refuge against the brutal winds and snow. You were illyrian, yes, you should be able to withstand the cold due to your upbringing in the mountains. But this? This was just numbing, cruel and pricking.

“What happened?” Rhys spoke into your mind. “I can feel you weakened.”

“Mission was unsuccessful and unnecessary. The rumours were not true. I am now stuck in a random ass cave trying to hide from this fucking snow storm. Can you contact someone? Any friend of yours that might be able to help me?” You plead.

“I see. I will ask Kallias to come get you. Unless you don't want him?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

You wanted Kallias. Wanted him to be frank. But the last time you were face to face with him, you got drunk and rambled on about all the things you want to do to him and all the things you want him to do to you. Let’s just say the hangover hurt for more reasons than one.

“Just send him.” You groaned. Were you ready to face him? Absolutely the fuck not. But did you wish to see him? Yes. “My wings are cold.”

— — — — — —

After what seemed like hours you finally hear footsteps sloshing against the wetness of the pathway. Although you remind yourself to keep your guard up, threats could come in any form.

“Y/N?” You hear Kallias’s husky, gravely voice. He approaches the entrance of the cave and sees you huddled up in the far corner, rubbing your arms to give yourself even a hint of warmth.

“H-Hey” Your voice shakes as you respond. The weather has caught up to you now, slowly seeping into your veins, almost making you feel like a statue, still. Lifeless.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Here.” He takes a tentative step towards you, assessing your form. You look sunken and shrivelled up. Your body was shivering uncontrollably no matter how much you tried to stop. He comes closer to you and kneels down in front of you, gently brushing away the wet strands of hair from your face, caressing your cheekbones in the process.

You lean into his touch. Somehow, even in this cold, harsh weather, he was warm. Warm like sunlight right after the storm clouds dissipate. Warm, like he’s exactly what you need. “Took you long enough.” It takes everything in you to muster up a small taunting smirk.

“Of course you would joke in this condition of yours.” He huffs out a laugh. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a material that feels like wool. “Rhys told me of your situation, tried to get here as soon as I could. This,” he says nudging the material in his hands,“is infused wool. We produce this to help migrants and visitors who have wings to shield against the cold. You just wrap it around your wings and button it up. It won’t restrict your flight.” He hands the material to you.

“I-I don’t th-think I can move right n-now.” My speech comes out stammered.

“Oh.” Understanding washes over his face. “I mean, I can always put it on for you, but I know how Illyrians are with their wings and what it means or feels like when you touch their wings… You sure you would trust me with that?

I offer him a small smile. Kallias, ever the respectful gentleman. “I called you to come save my life didn’t I? I trust you. Go for it.”

He carefully unwraps the material and folds it over your wings, one at a time. He makes sure not to hit any sensitive nerve or brush across any talons in fear of hurting you. You shudder and lean into him when he accidently brushes a knuckles across a big nerve.

Your chests are pressed up against each other, your head coming up till his chin. Almost out of reflex, his arms fold around you and his chin rests atop your head. You slowly pull your head back and look up at him through wet eyelashes. Kallias closes his eyes, almost like he was counting down to ten, controlling himself.

But you didn’t want him to hold himself back. You wanted him to unleash himself, to let himself have what he wants, have you. Hell, he wanted to lose control. He wanted to surge forward and claim you, taste you. But he knew one taste wouldn’t be enough, and one taste was all he could ask for.

“Y/N…” He whispers into the cold, rigid air. Like a plea. Like a prayer.

“Kallias,” You reply, begging as much as he was.

“You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.” He warns.

“Lucky for me, fire is exactly what I need right now.” You breathe out.

That seemed to do it. Seemed to melt whatever restraint he held up against himself. In the blink of an eye, you were pushed against the stone wall, his lips crashing against yours. He kisses, no, devours you whole. Your entire body is burning up in contrast to the weather outside. The entire moment is a blur, clashing of lips, tongue and teeth. Hands roaming each other’s bodies, searching for satisfaction. He holds your wrists up against your head and pins your body with his hips. He lets out a moan into your mouth, and you swallow the sound taking anything he will give you.

You both pull away gasping for air, staring into each other’s eyes. His lips travel down your jaw to your neck, peppering kisses on his way. He brings his lips near your ear and whispers, “The things you do to me Y/N…”

You push up against him in response, not having the mindset to formulate words.

“C’mon sweetie, let’s get you back to the palace and arrange a warm bath for you with some good food.” He kisses your cheeks awaiting a response from you.

“That sounds great actually. Really fucking needed right now.” You breathe in his scent. He smells of pine, cloves and sparkling clementine. He smells so comforting. He feels like home.

He chuckles lightly, “And maybe, if you end up feeling better, we can do the things you wanted to last time we met. You know the ones where you wanted to ride me into-”

“Okay stop for the cauldron’s sake.” You slam your palm over his mouth in embarrassment. “Fine yeah, we can go now.”

He huffs out a laugh and kisses the middle of your palms. “As you wish sweetheart.”

— — — — — —

#Kallias x reader #winter court #acotar x reader #acotar fluff #requests

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fanfiction101 · 1 month

Text

Jareth x Fem!reader

Hi loves, sorry this was a little late as I had some family over but here you go! Also I am one of those wackos that loves Christmas so that is sort of the time that this is taking place so deal with it lol. Anyways, be safe and love you!

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I studied my eyes and my hair. I looked at my face shape and make up that I had put on earlier. Cheery Christmas music was playing in the background as I got ready.

I grew up in a rich family. My mother and father, Amanda and Christopher Whitney, were well respected scientists and engineers. I had grown up in a well-off household but my parents knew how to parent. They taught me and my younger brothers, Theodore and Sebastian, to never brag about money and often took us to soup kitchens and donation centers to not only humble us, but to help others.

But every year, a couple days before Christmas, my father holds a party in which he would invite high and elite people in society, mainly to gain business connections. When I was younger I would stay for an hour and then go to bed and as a teenager, I would just stay at a friends house for the night. Now, as a woman, I go because I could perhaps, like my father, find business acquaintances. But, my parents are thinking that I am there to find the "Special someone."

"Okay y/n," I said to myself, looking at myself in the eye, "This isn't your first time at a Christmas party. You can do this. You will not just sit quietly in the corner like last year. You will socialize and at least be semi professional depending on how much alcohol is served."

After my pep talk, I changed into my dress. It was a floor length, burgundy dress. It had a mesh layer with flowers and sequins with a silky under skirt. My mother had bought it as a Christmas gift and I felt like an absolute princess in it.

I smiled and I exited the room. As I walked down the hallway, into the large room that the parties were held in, I could smell the most magnificent cooking. The smells of spices and sugary desserts flooded the air. Ham, turkey, and chicken. Cakes, cookies and candies. My mouth was watering.

I made it to the room and was amazed by the decorations. There was a large Christmas tree with large, silver and gold bulbs in the middle of the room with tables covered in piles of food across the far wall. Wreaths hung on the walls and candles were on the smaller, round tables. Guests hung about, eating and chatting with one another.

As I was admiring the room, I heard my father call me. I turned around and saw my parents talking to someone I had never met before. The stranger had a very different style. It was a peculiar style that seemed to remind me of an '80's Gothic rock-star. His hair was wild and his eyes seemed to be different colors. I would be a liar if I said that he wasn't attractive.

"Ah there she is." My father said as I joined their group, "Y/n, this is-"

"Jareth." The man interrupted, "Call me Jareth, Miss Whitney. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. " He then took my hand and pecked it, still looking at me with those beautiful mismatched eyes. I felt my face slowly start to burn up as I took my hand back and my mother gave me a knowing look.

I swallowed and fixed my face straight. "Pleasure is all mine, Jareth. You may call me y/n."

"Mr. and Mrs. Whitney! How long has it been?" an older man with a gray beard barged into the conversation and led my parents away, rambling on about the good old days, leaving me and Jareth to ourselves.

"So," I said, trying to make conversation, "How did you meet my parents?"

"Well, I met them on a business trip and they helped a great deal in my journey a year or so ago." Jareth replied, walking to the nearest table and pulling out a chair and gesturing me to sit.

I obliged and he sat at the hair across from me. "Ah, I see. What do you do for your business."

"Well you could say I'm sort of an ambassador of some sorts. Hey can I grab you a drink?" He offered.

I nodded, "Yes, thank you." I thought about his answer and thought about how vague he was. Perhaps there was classified information I didn't need to know about.

As he got up,I looked at his cape, draping over his shoulders. It had sequences, yet he was able to pull it off without looking so silly.

When he came back with some spiced cider, we began to chat about random things. I talked about my friends, college, and family stories and Jareth told me about his parents when they were alive and his passion for music. He would make a few jokes here and there and I would laugh. As the night went on, more and more people arrived.

I tried focusing my attention on Jareth, but I started to feel a little overwhelmed. I didn't know if he could read minds or if he wanted a change of scene, but he suggested we go outside. I nodded and he offered his arm as he led me outside to a small balcony.

I shivered as the cold wind blew. Jareth took off his coat and put it over my bear shoulders. His hands were warm, but firm. My breathing stiffed as his hands brushed against my shoulders, and they stayed there for a second before he slowly drew them away. His coat smelled good. It smelled like him.

"Won't you get cold" I asked.

"I'll be alright." He said leaning on the rail.

"Are you sure?" I said taking his hand, noticing the slight shaking. "You should be warm too."

"Well then I think that the only solution then is to share that warmth, hm?" He said with a sly smile.

I felt my face heat up as I let his hands drift down to my waist.

"You know, you look absolutely lovely tonight." he said stepping closer. It was almost as if I could lean in and kiss him.

"Thank you. I could say the same for you." I said, trying to keep myself composed.

His eyes looked into mine and closed the gap between us. At first the kiss was light, but we weren't done. This kiss only deepened. I felt his hand on my cheek and his tongue tracing my lips, asking for permission to take control. I granted it, feeling him exploring my mouth.

I felt myself taking a step back, leaning against the door frame. Our kissing continued. Our hands wondered over each other. My hands were on his chest, neck, back or his hair while his hands were tracing the curves of my hips or in my hair or on my cheek.

After a while, we parted for a breath of fresh air. Jareth continued his dominance, kissing a long my jawline and onto my neck area, looking for something until his kissed my sweet spot where I sucked in my breath.

I could feel him smirking as he started to kiss is harder as I softly whimpered. After a while, He pulled away and kissed me on the lips. It was shorter but nonetheless, passionate.

"Do you think we got carried away darling?" He said.

I smiled, "You are a good kisser."

"Maybe we should do this again sometime." He said half-jokingly.

"You know, this doesn't have to end. I know a place, that is if you want to continue."

Jareth's smirk returned, "Lead the way darling."

#jareth the goblin king #goblin king #labyrinth #the labyrinth #labyrinth fanfiction #jareth x reader #jareth imagine #jareth the goblin king x reader #jareth x you #labyrinth 1986 #labyrinth fanfic

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fearfulachilles · 4 months

Text

6. worth your while.

chapter six to buop (nanami kento x reader jjk medical au.) .

full contents here.

summary: kento is a no nonsense man, you’ve figured out that much. he’s not the type you get involved with at all. until he tells you he can be, if you want him to.

warnings: sexual scenes.

sticky note: i took an edible and wrote this. enjoy!

Kento is at the clinic early the next day. He only works two days out of the week in the clinic, because he has to work at least two days. He remembers the first day Satoru had announced the opening of the new clinic. The new owner of Jujutsu Hospital thought it was important to provide care to all of our current patients and new patients, so the clinic was the gateway to that.

He agreed with that statement, healthcare should be accessible to everyone. He just didn't agree with the fact that he'd have to cut down on surgery hours to work in the clinic until new physicians could be hired and take over.

“Everyone's gotta do it, Kento. Shoko's showing up three days a week. Even Suguru is taking a day off surgery to come in every couple of weeks.” Satoru tried to make it sound better, but it didn't work. “Yu's starting off with two days for our family planning patients.”

“I'm not a family physician, Gojo. I'm a goddamn surgeon. I can't be held up like this.” Kento fought back.

In the end, Satoru had more authority, so even though he bitched and complained, Kento still had to do it. It's not so bad, at least he got to see you again. He wasn't prepared on how often he was going to think about you.

Yesterday made it worse. You were smart along with funny and beautiful. He had gone home thinking about you. He went to bed thinking about you, having to fist his cock before being able to sleep. He know it's inappropriate, not only do you work with him, but you had made it clear you weren't interested in something serious. Kento's not the type to have flings or one-night stands, but he can't stop thinking about you.

He couldn't sleep well last night because of his thoughts. So, he arrives to work a little grumpier than usual. He groans to himself when he hears his close friend yelling his name.

“Kento!” The voice is coming from down the hall. Kento looks over and sees Yu Haibara, his old med school friend and the one who recommended he work for Jujutsu High after leaving his last place of employment at a for-profit hospital. Also, the brother of his ex-fiancée. Yu catches up with the blonde doctor, smiling brightly at his friend. “How are the new scribes working out?”

“They're good, smart.”

“Don't oversell them.” Yu joked. “I've got Itadori with me today. I hope he likes newborns, I've got lots of moms coming in for their three week postpartum follow ups. This new clinic is great, isn't it?”

Yu was Jujutsu Hospital's main OB-GYN. He was a helpful and vocal coach during birth and all his patients loved him because he created a safe space for first time mothers. Some would travel over an hour just to be seen by him and have him deliver their babies. He was always happy and chipper, Yuji was a good choice to work with.

Kento grunts in agreement. It's a great idea, he just doesn't like working in it. He bids goodbye to his happy go-lucky friend. He reaches for his coffee that he brewed at home this morning and hisses at the horrible flavor.

“This tastes like shit.” He comments to himself before putting the cup down. How has he not noticed before? Maybe he'll start buying his old preferred coffee beans again.

Your voice rings in Kento's ears just a few minutes later. You're carrying two cups of coffee from a nearby cafe, and when you get close to him, you hand one of them to him. He stares at it blankly for a moment, it prompts you to clear your throat awkwardly.

“I hope it's not weird, I was grabbing coffee and thought to bring you one. I-I don't know what you like, so I got you one that I like... is this weird?” You babble.

You're always the one sabotaging these moments. Now with your rambling and once before near the vending machines when you told Kento to forget about the car incident. How can he forget when you keep making everything about it?

You're surprised when the blonde doctor smiles and takes the coffee you're offering.

“No, this is very kind. Thank you.” Your name falls from his lips in and it sends shivers down your body.

You settle in, placing your own coffee drink on the nurse station desk and you disappear to grab a hospital laptop. You return and bring up the schedule for today. “I took a peek at the patient load yesterday and it looks busy. Think you'll be okay?” You tease.

Kento drinks the coffee you brought for him. He tastes the richness of the coffee and the sweetness of the syrups used. He usually drinks black coffee, without any sugar or creamers, but he can't deny the bursts of flavors he can taste just now. It was just what he needed.

“I'm up for it, if you are.” He replies.

_________

The day burns you out, not because of the amount of patients you saw today, but because of Kento.

He was in a much better mood today working with you alone. He was chattier with his patients, so naturally charming in his element. He introduced you to each patient, your name being sounded out perfectly, and includes you in the conversations with patients. You felt seen, heard, and appreciated by him.

Maybe it was because of his better mood, or something else you weren't aware of, but his lack of personal space with you was even worse today too. He'd open the exam room door for you to walk out first and he'd follow closely behind with his fingertips brushing along the small of your back to guide you out of the room. He'd call you over to sit beside him at the nurse station and have you lean in close to him as he showed you CT scans and MRIs of hearts that belonged to some of his patients. You wouldn't notice how close you were until he was nearly whispering his quizzing questions in you ear.

Every move, touch, and whisper would have you melting.

You’re not aware of how much you’re effecting Kento today too.

You were shorter than him, so with every whip of your hair, he was able to smell your shampoo. He’d stare at you when you were too focused on your laptop screen, with your plump bottom lip between your teeth, the very same lip time he kissed and bit that night in his car. He remembers how hot your mouth was and he remembers the taste of your saliva when he sneaked his tongue inside.

It’s nearly unbearable for him today. But he’s enjoying himself around you. You make the workday go by easier and faster. The work day is done before he knows it. The coffee you got him was long gone, and the one he brewed himself this morning is forgotten in an old traveling thermos cup he left at the nurse station.

You’re putting away the hospital laptop at its designated area, a small supply closet at the end of the clinic. You have your coat over your scrubs and your bag hangs from your shoulder. You leave the supply closet and walk through the nearly empty clinic that is now closed to the public. It’s not completely empty yet because Kento’s waiting by the front entrance.

When he sees you approaching, he smiles.

“I had a great time working with you today.” He says. He walks out of the clinic with you, his muscular arms brushing against your shoulders.

“I did too.” You say genuinely. “It was fun.”

The rest of the walk is quiet. You had left your apartment earlier this morning to have time for coffee, so you didn’t carpool with any of your roommates. You get to your car and you notice Kento’s car is nowhere near yours, but he still walked with you. The silence is deafening, until Kento finally speaks up.

“I’m not looking for anything serious, either.”

Your eyes widen and you look up at the older man. He’s referencing what you told him on your first day. Had he been thinking about that this whole time? Kento isn’t that type of man, he knows that. But you’ve consumed every waking thought of his, maybe it’s just what he needs.

You don’t know what to reply with. You feel your cheeks heating up. “Um, well, w-we work together.”

Kento is quiet for a second before nodding, like he’s been caught. “I know.”

“I won’t tell anyone, if you don’t.” You say. You’re crazy, right? Crazy to turn him down or crazy to take his offer, you’re not sure which, but you are crazy. But he’s been driving you crazy ever since seeing him in that cafeteria.

“Deal.” Kento replies. His large hand comes up to your face and his thumb caresses your cheek. The rest of his hand cups your jaw. He leans in, his warm lips touching yours slowly, giving you enough time to change your mind.

You don’t. You grab the collar of his jacket and pull him in impatiently. He’s a good kisser, you almost forgot. His lips take over and you follow them. The tip of his nose is nudged against your face as he deepens the kiss.

His tongue makes its way into your mouth, swiping along your own and tasting you again. He’s missed the taste of you. He wants to keep doing it. The hand on your jaw snakes down to the back of your neck, and he cradles the crown of your head. You moan into his mouth at how he’s handling you, feeling small in his grasp.

Kento breaks the kiss first. His breathing is unsteady and he feels his heart thumping against his chest. His fingers had found their way to be buried in your hair from where he held you. You whine at the loss of contact, pouting slightly. It makes him chuckle.

“My place? I’ll make it worth your while.” He says and you nod. He tells you to leave your car here, he’ll drive you back to get it later. You listen to him and he walks you to his car.

_________

You’re on Kento the minute he unlocks his door. He laughs against your lips at how eager you are. You don’t know that he’s just as eager as you too. He kicks his front door closed with his foot.

“C’mere,” he mutters, licking his lips and kissing you fully. He grabs the back of your knees and lifts you up. On instinct, you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. His large hands keep you secure, holding onto your ass.

You think he’s going to take you there and now, against his wall, or even on his couch. But he’s carrying you to his room. You don’t have time to take in his interior designing and judge if it’s good.

Once he’s laid you on his bed, his hands don’t stop touching you, it’s like he memorized every inch of you.

You roll up the hem of his scrub shirt and he takes the hint. He discards his shirt within seconds and you swallow thickly once you see his body.

You didn’t get this far last time, both of you were still fully clothed. His body is unbelievably sculpted, and to think it had been hidden under his stupid scrubs this whole time. You run your hands down his abdomen, your fingertips teasingly pulling at the top of his pants next.

He doesn’t budge this time. Instead, he takes off your shirt. You don’t have to do any work, he was capable to stripping you of it without your help. You lay beneath him in your bra and Kento stares for a second, like he’s gotten stage fright.

You smirk and grab his hand, you feel his veins on his hands with your soft, delicate fingers, and guide his hand to cup your breast. His thumb rubs your nipple through the fabric of your bra and it’s enough to make you lightly gasp. He brings his body closer to you and ruts his hips against yours, the hardness of his cock brushing against your heated core.

You breathe out his name, “Kento…”

It drives him mad. He pulls down at your bra, your breasts bouncing out of it. He leans down and takes the nipple he had been teasing into his mouth. You moan at the sudden warmth on your breast, looking down and watching him.

Kento’s filthy with his lips around your nipple. He flicks the nub with his tongue, his mouth completely enclosed around it, then his teeth tug at the tip and it causes sparks throughout your body. You whine, eyes dedicated on watching Kento.

He pulls down his pants as he bullies your nipple with his tongue. Then, he pulls away from your breast with a pop. You’re red, flustered with how Kento’s acting.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this.” He says. His voice is husky, he almost sounds drunk.

He pulls your pants and underwear off in a single swipe, it’s impressive. Your tits bounce with the sudden movement and Kento watches them as they do. He grabs your hips and drags your body close to his, your legs falling open on either side of his torso.

His cock is big and dripping with precum. You remember how his bulge felt in your hand, you knew he’d be big, just not this big. He pumps himself with his hand a few times before he adjusts himself to be between your legs.

You’re breathing heavy, watching him with your full attention. You feel yourself leaking from your make out session and Kento abusing your breast. He uses the tip of his cock to gather up your wetness, and he slides it up to your clit.

You whine, your fluttering close. You wrap your legs around him, nudging him closer to your entrance to finally feel him. Kento laughs softly and his hands go to your thighs and he holds your legs open again. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Not yet.”

He pressed his swollen tip against your clit and grinds against you. You’re moaning with every swipe of his cock.

“Oh-h, fuck,” you whine. You buck your hips and rub yourself against his cock even more. He holds you by your hips, the pads of his thumb pressing against your hip bones.

The lips of your pussy spread and take him in, he keeps rubbing his cock between your lips, pressing it against your sensitive clit repeatedly. His dick glistens with your slickness on him. You grab on to his shoulder, fingertips digging into his flesh.

“Shit—“ Kento curses, and his cum squirts out of his cock, painting your stomach all over in it. His movements are slow, but they don’t stop. He hisses at the sensitivity of his cock.

You look down at your body. Your stomach has a small pool of his cum, some of it splattered along the underside of your tits. With two fingers, you scoop some his cum and bring it to your mouth. You moan at the taste of him, rubbing your fingers in your tongue.

Kento groans as he watches you. He presses his body against yours, not caring of his sticky mess on your stomach. He grabs a hand full of your hair and it makes you cry out in a moan. He kisses you hungrily, his tongue tasting his own cum on yours.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Kento whispers in your ear. You smile hazily. You’re not upset you didn’t get to feel Kento’s cock in you, it still felt amazing to have him fuck your clit.

Kento’s peppering your face with kisses, and despite you not normally being one for affection, you bask it all in your pleasured haze.

The tip of his aching cock still feels hard against your folds, and you feel him guide it down to your pussy. The swollen tip teases your entrances as he whispers again. “Been thinking about this nonstop…”

He rests the weight of his body on his forearm above your head, boxing you beneath and trapping you with the heat of his body. He lifts his head high enough to catch your eyes. He rolls his hips slowly, pushing his girth inside of you.

You’re wet, your hole grasping for something to wrap around, but even then, you whine as he stretches you out. Kento tries to swallow down a moan. You claw at his back until he’s fully inside of you, filling you to the brim.

He mumbles small praises as he stays deep inside you. You feel so full of him that you let out a choked moan. His thrusts start off small and slow, he barely pulls out of you and stays rubbing against your cervix, the tip of his cock nudging it again and again.

His thrust only deepen, causing his skin to dampen and his throat rumble with grunts.

He's touching your sweet spot again and again and again, you feel his balls slap against your ass with very thurst. You swallow back your pitiful whines long enough to pull Kento into a kiss to keep hiding them. And Kento kisses back ravishingly, clumsily, like he needs to be inside you even more.

“You’re intoxicating.” Kento growls near your swollen lips. His hand traces the sides of your waist, finding his way to your lower back. He lifts you with his hand, bending you.

He's rough and fast and deep, nothing like you’ve experienced before. The happy trail in his pelvis rubs against your clit with every slap of his hips and his dick presses harder inside of you. It’s too much for you. You whimper, and you whimper again and again. The pressure in your body feels like too much. It’s burning in the best way.

Kento kisses your cheek, “‘s okay, baby.”

His other hand brushes your hair away from your sweaty face. It’s a comfort touch, contrasting against how mean and quick his thrusts are. He knows you’re about to cum. He wants you to cum and make a mess on his sheets.

“Feels good, right?” He asks you, his deep tone cracking and sending shivers all over your body. Your eyes close tighter and you whine with your jaw dropping slowly. You nod because it’s all you know how to do.

“So good, so good.” You don’t feel your mouth moving, you only hear your voice agreeing. You focus on the knot growing inside you, your noises turn high and you curse below your breath. You want to warn Kento that you’re cumming and you can’t stop it, but all you can string along are words like cumming, i’m c-oh, god…

Your orgasm over takes you, you cum fluttering around him, forming rings and smearing them all along his cock. Your wetness and cum now mixed, it drips down from your stuffed hole and stains his sheets. He swears he’ll never wash them. He wants to keep you there, your essence and your pleasure, all for him.

Kento encourages your pretty moans, nuzzling his nose against your damp temple and his hips never faulting throughout your orgasm. He comes too, his thrusts stutter as he stuffs his cock completely in, burying his cum inside of you.

While still in you, Kento cups the side of your face and brings you in for a kiss. You don't pull away and kiss him back.

He lays beside you afterwards, catching his breath. You catch yours too, the high of your orgasm fading quietly. No one has made you come that intensely before. You look over at him, your eyes half lidded and dazed.

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