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sideblogforcrimpy-plus · 5 months

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Rinse; Repeat

Words: 4,478, chapter one of probably two.

Rated: Handle with care, cw suicidal thoughts/discussion, canon typical violence, hints at abuse/bullying

Summary: Spencer and Derek meet before either of them are in the BAU. Spencer is hesitant as a deer to be close and all Derek wants is to be close (so does Spencer). Spencer is clearly Troubled and Derek just wants to love him softly, honestly. Like filtered afternoon sunlight and sepia filters.

but for real I just, I saw a post that made me laugh and go 'ahaha, unless?' and then sat down uncomfortably on the floor for three hours and wrote this.

For my own comfort/entertainment, Derek and Spencer are closer in age than my recent google search would lead me to believe. Thank (●'◡'●)

---- 2003

Derek was having a truly sucky day. The academy was rough, and as good as he was at all the physical stuff, there were some real smart people and he was so scared that he was all brawn and no brain. Not that he’d readily use the word ‘scared’ to describe himself if he could help it, but he was.

But realistically, he did get this far. So he did have some of the brain, but was it enough? Had he set his sights too high on the BAU?

Still, the doubt and insecurity wasn’t going to have him quit early. Partly because he really, really wanted this, but also partly because what would he tell his family if he’d put so much time into this and failed?

They’d comfort him and say they’re proud; he knows it. But would he be proud?

He doesn’t want to find out.

Dead tired despite the lack of physical training that day, he walked through the house and out to the balcony, only part stopping to shed his jacket and backpack.

The sun was long gone by now, and the stars were too hidden in such a built up area, but he braced himself with his arms on the railing and stretched his neck, trying to relax.

God, how many people even got through the academy each year?

“Chances are, if you’re already in the academy, you’ll come out the other side.”

God?

Had he asked that aloud?

Derek just about jumped out of his skin, training be damned. He was on the top floor and roof access was blocked. He must have made some sort of noise, because the sad, quiet voice came again.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m not- I wasn’t… Startled.” Derek rubbed his forehead, hoping his voice didn’t sound it; startled. He wasn’t sure he’d heard that organically in conversation, more something you come across in text, in books and things.

“Oh. Sorry for assuming?” The speaker was hesitant, like they’d started apologising before they really knew why. Curious, and not thrilled someone had roof access and it wasn’t the guy (and his sister) who had the top floor apartment, Derek leaned out over the railing and twisted his neck, trying to see who answered him.

Before he could get a glimpse, he heard them step back.

How close to the edge was he? He watched as a bit of rubble fell past him and to the concrete below.

“I don’t think that’s something you need to apologise for, man. How’d you get up there, anyway? I was told we weren’t allowed because they don’t have railings. Or insurance, I think.”

“Well, that makes sense. Although a fall from a five story building isn’t guaranteed to be fatal; you’re better off on the eighth floor for that. But then again, there have been people that survived from even that height so, you can’t really win, can you? If you’re scared of heights or something.”

Derek’s curiosity took a quick dive into concern that sped right down to worry.

“Now I think you got that the wrong way around, better off on the lower floors if there’s no railing, right?”

There was a long pause, and Derek wondered if he’d be able to get up onto the roof in a reasonable amount of time if he had a sense of urgency pushing him.

“Perhaps. Can you imagine the injuries you’d be left with after surviving the fall?” He heard a foot scuff the ground above him and thought he’d started sweating despite the cool breeze. “It’d really suck to not have insurance then, huh? As the building owner, I mean.”

“Okay man, well, that’s a dark topic. And since there’s no railing, or maybe no seats up there either, why don’t you join me on my balcony instead? I might even be able to find a beer or something for you.”

“It’s not safe to go into a stranger’s house.”

“It’s not safe to think about people surviving and not surviving falls while you’re alone on a rooftop, close to the edge, and there’s no railing.”

“Well… Perhaps that’s a reasonable counterpoint.”

And that’s how Derek started becoming friends with a bundle of limbs and greasy hair that hid an incredible but haunted mind.

–

Spencer didn’t have a phone, so he’d just show up at Derek’s apartment intermittently. Well, his and Sarah’s. His mother had put money towards them renting it for the duration of Derek’s time at the academy and Sarah’s short term study since they lined up almost the same, with him likely finding some place more permanent for himself after.

He didn’t do well in the claustrophobic, shared dorms of the academy so would escape to the apartment when he could, and Sarah was completing her course close enough to make the apartment almost worth it.

It had two shoebox rooms, and they had to share a bathroom, but it still had two rooms so it was a step up from the low bar the academy set. But she was out often with friends, study, and a part time job while he was still largely sleeping at the dorm, so they hardly saw each other.

He’d come back to Spencer hanging out near the block only a couple times; he didn’t seem to like loitering, like he was concerned Derek’s neighbours would get suspicious.

More often, though, Derek would go out onto the balcony and make some sort of noise, and Spencer would respond from above. Over time, Derek was relieved to note that Spencer was usually not so close to the edge as he was the first night.

But most of the time, unfortunately, was not all of the time.

Spencer wasn’t all that interested in drinking, but he was interested in sharing whatever he’d learned about recently. He absolutely did not share much about himself at all.

Despite how private Derek felt as a person though, he found he was sharing quite a lot about himself with Spencer. It was hard not to, inviting Spencer into a place he and his sister were living in though. She’d met him in passing once or twice, and had commented after he left, thankfully, about how shy he seemed to be.

Spencer was a bit like butter from the fridge; he needed time to soften up every single time he came over to Derek’s.

His most recent obsession, to Derek's suffering, had been body farms. After finding out that Derek was studying at the academy (which he was loath to share on account of those ever-present insecurities), Spencer had told him that he was interested in criminal behaviour, among other related things.

Not in a ‘watch true crime documentaries just for the nightmares, apparently’ kind of way, but more to work out the why, and sometimes guess at the how, of everything. He’d dropped stupid time into geographical profiling, in Derek’s opinion, for someone who wasn’t pursuing a career in a related field.

“And they have one, a body farm that is, in East Tennessee. Did you know that they run ten week courses there? Something they’ve done recently is watching for changes in hair for a body left in a car for two months. That’s so specific, isn’t it? Hair changes in a car? Although it’s safe to assume they’re obviously looking for more at the same time.”

“Obviously,” Derek agreed.

Spencer was way too excited for the topic at hand.

Derek continued before Spencer went back to talking about something like maggot life cycles. “Okay, so if I get through to being an FBI agent and I see a body in a car, you’ll be the first person I call.”

“You mean when. I don’t have a phone.” Spencer’s lips had a little curve, like he was self-conscious of smiling still but couldn’t help it fully.

“Right, right. Can you tell me how to summon you then, or will I just have to come here and call out at the roof until you appear?”

Now that was definitely a smile. Why did that feel just as good as high test scores?

The next time Derek was at the apartment, Spencer didn’t show. But there was a phone number written on a paper plane that had been thrown onto his balcony. Three, actually, and one he picked up on the way to the apartment that was stuck in a sad, over-pruned and under-watered hedge out front. How many had Spencer made that Derek didn’t find?

Eleven, it turns out. Spencer was a horrible shot, but Derek liked watching his long fingers folding the paper in what was ‘the most aerodynamic plane folding method’ the next time he was over. It felt a little silly to challenge him on it, especially since Derek knew fuck all about the aerodynamics of paper planes. And Spencer called him out on it.

“Superior hand-eye coordination doesn’t mean your plane folding method is superior, it just means you’re good with your hands.”

Derek wiggled his eyebrows, but continued speaking after he let the flush of Spencer’s cheeks sit for a moment.

“So you want me to throw one of yours, to see if I can do it better with your method?”

“It’s a reasonable request. You can’t test two theories for quality results if the testing methods are different.”

“You’re a sore loser, you know that?”

“You’re an unfair winner, did you know that?”

“So you admit I’m a winner?”

Spencer felt terrible that his next plane hit Derek in the eye, so Derek only milked it for half the time he would have liked to.

Spencer shoved his shoulder when Derek finally caved and laughed, indignant.

“You were playing it up!”

“It’s paper! It can’t hurt me that bad.”

“It did hit your eye. They might be the fastest healing body part, but they’re not impervious.”

“Pretty boy, if you want to kiss it better, I won’t stop you. But you don’t need to worry that much about it.”

Derek saw that sweet rush of colour on Spencer’s neck and cheeks, and the smile he was trying to hide before now took a shy edge as he tried to look casual.

“Well, if I injured you, I should do what I can to help.”

His voice was so quiet that Derek almost missed what he said. He tilted his head in question, raising a brow while trying to figure out if this was more word-based flirting or if one of them would actually take it further for once.

Spencer’s eyes were focused on his fingers, picking at lint that certainly wasn’t on the leg of his pants but held his gaze anyway. His eyes flickered up to Derek’s face though, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips just after.

“Well, you’re the doctor out of the two of us, what do you think I need?”

“I’m not a medical doctor.” Spencer’s voice seemed to be getting quieter, but Derek liked that his gaze was flicking more to Derek’s lips now.

“Maybe so, but I bet you know more about first aid than I do, especially with that fear of germs you got.”

“Me not shaking your hand is normal. The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.”

Derek almost laughed at how embarrassed Spencer looked at that line, but knew if he did Spencer would think he was laughing at him and might take offense.

“So I should kiss you goodbye when you leave? Doctor Reid, who knew you could be so forward?”

“That’s not what I was saying! I just-”

Derek held up his hands, placating, while Spencer seemed to flap his. “Now now handsome, I didn’t say I was opposed.”

Derek thought he was floating when Spencer, so quickly it was barely a kiss, pressed his lips to Derek’s cheek when he left that night.

–

The next time Derek heard Spencer’s voice from above his balcony, he was almost back to his subdued, distanced self from when they first started speaking. It was over an hour before Spencer let Derek coax him inside. He was shocked when Spencer came to his front door, hair lank and pulled forward to try and cover his eye and cheek that were dark with bruising.

“Spencer, what happened?” He ushered the younger man in, directing him to the couch.

“Nothing. An accident. What were you saying about the fitness test?”

“You’re not interested in fitness tests, what happened?” He tried to bring his hand up to Spencer’s cheek, tilt his head up into the light and assess the damage, but Spencer shied away from him, getting up and heading to the kitchen instead.

“I’m interested in the fitness test.”

“I’m not. Since when are you interested in that?”

“Since you’re the one talking about them.” Derek tried not to feel warm and fuzzy with that comment. Spencer was being genuine, the man was a terrible liar, but he gives away shy truths when he wants to distract.

Derek leaned against the tiny kitchen counter while Spencer turned the kettle on.

“I thought you didn’t have tea at night because of the caffeine.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight anyway, so I may as well enjoy a tea.”

Derek scrutinised him, wordlessly getting a still sealed pack of decaf tea from the cupboard and putting it down beside Spencer’s hand on the counter.

“You know this isn’t truly decaffeinated? It’s just lower in comparison to other teas.”

Derek stayed quiet and watched as Spencer started to squirm under his gaze. He turned then to face Derek, a frown on his face that softened when he saw whatever emotion Derek’s expression wasn’t hiding. Concern, probably.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t use your behavioural training on me.”

“I thought I wouldn’t feel the need to with you.”

Spencer’s lips pressed into a thin line before he turned back to the kettle, mumbling. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

When Derek put his hand on Spencer’s shoulder, Spencer jumped, then looked guilty.

“Sorry. I don’t-” He looked at Derek’s hand, which he’d pulled back like he'd been burnt when Spencer flinched at his touch. “I don’t mind.” He wrung his hands, nervous or something like it and unable to look at Derek with that soft red on his cheeks again, marred by bruises. “I don’t mind. The contact, if it’s you. But I’d rather not be surprised by it just now.”

“I get it, pretty boy, and I’m sorry.” He held out his hands, palms up, for Spencer to take. Spencer’s hands shook a little, and he’d forgotten to pour water into his mug now.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, I won’t ask how you got- that.” He jutted his chin to try and gesture at Spencer’s purpled skin while his hands were occupied. “But is what I see all you have, or is there more?”

Spencer bit his lip, watching his own thumb as he rubbed it against Derek’s fingers.

“Spencer, please.”

Spencer shrugged, still unwilling to meet Derek’s eyes.

“It’s not just that. My face. It’s-...” He lifted their joined hands, but didn’t let go of Derek’s to gesture any better. Instead, he pressed their hands to Derek’s chest, just beneath the collar of his shirt, then slowly moved them down and around a little to Derek’s sides. The movement was awkward, but Derek appreciated the tight grip on his hands, and the touch Spencer was initiating, and the information being shared all in the way Spencer was capable of.

“It’s all over, isn’t it pretty boy?”

Spencer hesitated, almost nodding before deciding to try and move on. “I don’t know if I qualify for that. Not normally, or especially now.”

The shy smile was back, and too self-deprecating for Derek. But fighting Spencer on that too strong right now would push him away, so he let some of that anger slide away before he spoke.

“You callin’ me a liar, handsome?”

“No, I think I’m calling you a sweet-talker.”

“But a lying sweet talker, hot stuff?” Spencer pursed his lips as he looked up at Derek, finally, to suppress a smile.

“I’m starting to think you have a biased opinion.”

“I’m starting to think you do too, although on the other side of the spectrum. Why are you so hard on yourself?”

Spencer squeezed Derek’s hands before letting them go, turning back to pour hot water in his mug. Derek bit back a sigh when Spencer changed the subject again.

“So only two weeks before you’re done at the academy, huh?”

Throughout the night, as Spencer started melting into his more comfortable self the longer he was there, he was less aware of the bruising on his face. It wasn’t until he caught his reflection, or Derek staring, or felt it twinge when he smiled too wide, that he remembered it and grew self-conscious again. That he pushed his hair back in the way of it like if Derek couldn’t see it then Spencer could forget he was injured.

He’d foregone contact lenses and worn his glasses that night, like he did most nights, and Derek thought it might be so it felt like there was another barrier between his bruises and the rest of the world.

Derek wanted to kiss them better, and then all the other hurts Spencer seemed to have. And Spencer sure seemed to have a lot of hurts.

Hurts like how his expression tightened when Derek asked about his childhood, his parents, his friends, or his time at school. How Derek, in the earlier days, made a comment about Spencer missing social cues, and heard a bitter ‘well I can’t pick up on cues if I don’t have anyone to teach them to me’ in reply before Spencer tried to cover it up.

How if he had a particularly bad day, he was so jumpy near Derek that Derek almost wanted to sit on his hands to show he wasn’t going to use them for anything.

How on days when Spencer’s eyes were sunken with a lack of sleep, and the clothes he wore showed how thin he was, and he was so so close to the edge of the ledge on the roof above Derek’s apartment that he thought Spencer just might not care if he fell over the edge.

Like he’d had a lifetime of hurts and still had to face more each day, and Derek only saw little slivers of him and couldn’t learn enough to help him as much as Spencer needed; as much as Derek wanted.

God, he was going to make a terrible profiler.

“Derek?” Spencer looked hesitant, and Derek realised he’d spaced out; probably while staring at Spencer’s bruise again going by how he’d tried to angle his face away awkwardly, unable to fully turn and hide it while looking at Derek at the same time.

Derek couldn’t help it, he just kept on staring. Spencer’s tongue darted out to wet his lips again, and Derek’s eyes tracked the movement. He knew Spencer noticed that, too, by the way his breath seemed to stutter.

Slowly, he shuffled forward on the couch, eyes holding Spencer’s gaze as he did so.

This time, Derek’s name from Spencer’s lips was much quieter, like he was asking for something instead of questioning him.

“Spencer,” The younger man’s eyes dropped down, watching as Derek’s hand came up to his arm; his shoulder. Watched it still as it moved higher, cupping his unbruised cheek. Spencer turned his head, almost pressing a kiss to Derek’s palm as his eyes closed and his bruised cheek was fully on display.

“Spencer, I’ll be gentle. May I?”

Spencer didn’t open his eyes, just hummed in agreement, nosing at Derek’s palm.

Goosebumps broke over Spencer’s neck when Derek’s breath hit his cheek, and Derek felt him shiver. Careful to avoid the worst of it, Derek skated his lips over Spencer’s cheekbone, pressed them just in front of where his earlobe met the back of his jaw, then trailed them down his jawline.

Spencer tipped his head, allowing easier access as Derek watched Spencer’s fingers grip the couch cushion beneath him. Unsure if it was entirely due to sensation or something going on in his mind, Derek didn’t push further. Using his hand on Spencer’s cheek, he turned the man’s head to nudge his nose to Spencer’s.

“This is alright?”

In lieu of an answer, slowly, Spencer lifted his chin and kissed Derek on the lips. Derek’s chest swelled and he smiled into it, his other hand coming up to Spencer’s side.

They shuffled closer to each other, to be able to press themselves into each other more comfortably. Spencer’s mouth opened beneath Derek’s lips, and he could taste that terrible decaf tea and honey, and the cashews Spencer liked to snack on while reading.

He wondered what Spencer would think he tasted like, the cheap vending machine snacks and the god awful protein water he’d bought without realising it was terrible.

Suddenly, he had the urge to brush his teeth. He made to pull away, but Spencer’s fingers curled in his shirt and his resolve weakened.

Their hands were slowly moving over each other, everything was moving so slowly. Sweetly, like they were learning each other and had all the time in the world. Derek’s fingers found the hem of Spencer’s shirt, and he tugged the man’s lower lip between his teeth as his fingers slipped under the fabric and brushed against Spencer’s skin.

God it was soft, but it felt thin, too. He became scared of hurting Spencer, especially when remembering he had some other injuries too. So he kept his touch light, fingers probably tickling as they travelled further up Spencer’s side as Spencer laughed into the kiss.

Spencer tugged at Derek’s collar, then his fingers slipped around to cup the back of Derek’s neck. Caught up in being able to touch, they quickly moved back down, trailing over his shoulder and down his chest, then Spencer’s hands lingered there. They would have moved further down, Derek thinks, with his hands now pushing Spencer’s shirt up, if it weren’t for his sister coming home.

They didn’t realise until they heard her laugh, surprised.

“Oh, Sorry! I didn’t text ahead, my phone died. Go about your business!” She laughed again, more of a giggle, then her bedroom door clicked shut. Spencer was rigid beneath him - when had he pressed Spencer into the couch beneath him?

‘Sorry, Spence, I didn’t-”

Spencer pushed him up and off, the heat flushing his face more than the usual shyness or what Derek might expect from making out on a couch could bring about. More than embarrassment of being caught, even. He scrambled to get up and right his clothes, walking to the door and scooping up his bag on the way.

“Spencer, wait! Where are you going?” He didn’t want to pull Spencer back by catching his arm, knowing the man wouldn’t react well. His eyes seemed watery and Derek was lost.

And he stayed lost, when, after three weeks, Spencer hadn’t come back. His texts went unanswered and when he called the number was disconnected.

And he kept right on being lost when Spencer didn’t come back to visit him before he had to move out.

–--- 2005

Derek scowled at the scene before them.

“You’re saying someone was turning people into books?”

The local officer walking them through the scene nodded, nose wrinkled but face otherwise resigned.

“Yup. See, we had a couple people go missing here and there. Transients, runaways, you know the type. And we’d thought they went missing by choice. Sure, we looked,” not enough, Derek thought. “But we never thought they’d end up. Well. As books.”

“As books.” Derek’s skin crawled.

Aside from a specific wrinkle in his brow, Hotch didn’t even look perturbed. “These materials, would they be specialised? Potentially unique or traceable?”

“The tanning stuff? Not as far as we can tell. Out here, we got people doing this the normal way, tanning hides and such. A lot of leather workers out here. As far as we can tell, it’s basically all the same stuff.”

Hotch looked back at Gideon who shrugged and looked at Derek. “He’ll take a breather now that we found his workshop; he’ll need time to set himself up again. Derek, you’re going to a library to speak to someone about human skin book binding.”

Derek and Elle looked at each other before Derek held his hands out, gesturing broadly.

“We just have someone who knows about human skin being made into books?”

Elle smirked at him. “And you get to visit them. How nice.”

Derek wasn’t thrilled about it, and the feeling that his skin was crawling and unclean hadn’t left since they found the workshop their unsub was using. It reeked in both usual and unexpected ways, and the forensic investigator on scene and all too happily told him that urine could be used in the tanning process.

Perhaps a clean, quiet, library would help in easing his mind, but the subject matter wouldn’t. Derek flashed his badge at the desk, and the librarian assistant he’d found nodded without him needing to explain.

“Agent Gideon called ahead, I’ll lead you through to the doctor now. The books were already here, we’ve held them for ages, but the doctor only arrived recently. Good timing, too, what with this horribleness happening.” She chattered as she led him through shelves, picking up carelessly placed books as she went and piling them up on her other arm.

“Wait, the doctor showed up for the books after the murders?” Derek frowned; Gideon hadn’t called that far ahead, had he?

“Yes, though it’s not his first time here. He’s such a joy to have.” She looked at Derek, then laughed. “You don’t think he did it, do you?”

Derek shrugged, and she shook her head. Then, they stopped outside a room labelled ‘staff only’, and she knocked before pushing the door open.

Derek patted down his pockets for his notepad and pen, then stopped short when he looked up.

The assistant kept talking.

“So this is the doctor Spencer Reid, the veritable specialist on these books. Our Margaret, who usually cares for these books and who we’d recommend you to normally for this, she’s been unwell. But we’re lucky to have Dr. Reid here,” After that, she looked between the two, and her smile slipped into confusion.

“Do you two know each other?”

Derek swallowed, and Spencer barely moved.

“Well, I’ll just leave you two to it, then.” She cast a hesitant glance at Spencer, who nodded to her, and she seemed to take that as a sign it was safe for her to leave them alone.

“Spencer?”

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followdelight · 2 years

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Unpopular opinion time: I actually kinda liked the KPTS ending for KimChay. I genuinely found it to be a very hopeful open ending. (we’re gonna straight up ignore the ‘stage play’ ‘side story’ from the world tour, okay, bc wtf was that no)

Hear me out. I know we’re all sad that Kim broke Chay’s heart. That baby was so pure and seeing him sobbing was devastating. But…… I actually think this heartbreak was crucial to making this relationship healthier in the long run. (and not just bc it unearthed all the lies)

Both KinnPorsche and VegasPete get flack for being ‘unhealthy’ relationships. But here’s a thing I don’t see people talking about enough: KimChay also was not a healthy relationship. Putting aside the fact that Kim was lying to Chay the whole time – say they met and Kim was genuinely just a burgeoning singer who agreed to be his tutor etc. solely bc Chay was a huge fan it still would not have been healthy. The power imbalance was so skewed in Kim’s favor there was really no way to right it through the course of the show. The way their relationship progressed, there was never a natural time/way to level the playing field.

I genuinely think that Chay finding out Kim lied and is a deeply imperfect human (and Kim basically doubling down on that by not admitting his feelings in the end) can do nothing but benefit them in the long run. Assuming they’re able to recover from that deceit at all, but for the sake of argument I’m assuming eventually Kim will wear him down. Bc now Chay can return to this relationship without having Kim up on the pedestal he’d placed him on.

No relationship is ever going to be equal when one of them had a SHRINE to the other before they even met. Like, if this was real life it’d be a big ole red flagged YIKES. If Chay were my little brother I’d be extremely concerned that Kim was only interested bc he got uncomplicated and complete adoration from Chay in exchange for (let’s be honest with ourselves) the bare minimum. And I don’t think Kim wanted that, I think by the end he really did see Chay beyond ‘an adoring fan’ (because Chay is an absolute open book incapable of dissembling)... but I think most of his hesitation in returning Chay’s feelings came from his knowledge that Chay did not and could not see him because of everything Kim was hiding. And you know how it goes when you start thinking it’s too late to reveal the truth.

But once Kim breaks Chay’s heart, the truth is revealed, and he begins to put in the work to win Chay back so he can prove that he wasn’t just using Chay (either for the ego boost or solely for information), the scales start tipping in Chay’s direction. Suddenly he has power in this relationship for the first time. Bc ultimately, the shattering of Chay’s illusions is crucial to them rebuilding a healthier relationship. Chay *has* to lose those rose colored glasses in order to see Kim clearly in all his imperfect, emotionally constipated, violent, and murderous glory, so he can decide if he really wants that man.

I think Chay was *infatuated* with Kim, definitely, and that’s a kind of love. But it’s not a sustainable love. He loved an *idea* of Kim that he shaped around his adoration of WIK. And now he has the chance to genuinely love KIM, the complicated and layered and imperfect man; if he wants to. From here, any relationship they build will be on more equal footing. Both of them seeing the truth in one another and loving each other for their complete selves.

And *that* is what I love about the BoC ending for KimChay. I know it’s an ‘open’ ending, but I think as far as open endings go it’s very hopeful. Kim sending Chay a video of him playing HIS song saying “look, we’re equals” and Chay not closing the door on communication? So much hope there for a happy reconciliation in their future.

#kimchay #kimhan theerapanyakul #porchay kittisawasd #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche meta #i have been reading altogether too many kimchay aus on twitter #and just never see anyone talking about the imbalance there #so here are my thoughts #i need more post canon fic with them really fixing their shit #-continues to scour AO3-

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kimtaegis · 1 year

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I don't know anything about seventeen or hoshi but he seems so cute pls :( you can clearly tell he appreciates yoongi so much and he looks/looked up to him/them and just in general the way he was talking about himself and wanting to talk with yoongi but being shy about it pls :( it always makes me so so so sad when someone says they feel shy around bangtan or a bit intimidated.. like i get why they would say that, especially idols who debuted after them, but i just really want people to have the courage to talk to them and try to be friends, you know? :( and the way yoongi was saying he has so much advice for the younger generation, it made me cry. :(

he is SO cute you are absolutely right and i love how appreciative both of them were of each other, it was just a very wholesome exchange, i feel like both of them got a lot out of this talk! about the shyness/ intimidation thing… i think to some extend it’s completely normal to be shy around people you look up to/ who have more experience/ who are older than you, that’s something i, an ordinary person, can relate to as well! also, i think the circumstances in which they could actually meet the guys are pretty limited (that’s why I’m glad there’re shows like this so the opportunity actually arises!). i hope this doesn’t play a big part in it at all, but well, maybe fans of both parties make it a little harder to interact with each other too sometimes. but either way, it’d be so cool to see bts interact with more people, for my part i really really enjoy that, and it seems like they do too

#anon #annie’s mail

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yuesya · 2 years

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yuesya omg new chapter!

and the cliffhanger too!! but anyways, I’ve reread the chapter which made me so excited so I reread the fic and sjshdhdbw I love zenith so much

I think my favourite thing is how you wrote shiki’s interactions with other people:

like nanami, who is the family she has left from before the accident. I love how his reaction to finding out shiki’s OP ocular curse was “does it hurt?” he cares!! about her!! and just her!! the way shiki was nervous to touch nanami at times in case she carves into his lines— the way nanami felt sad that that was something she was acted of. he didn’t really care for the advantages and strength of her abilities, just how it’d hurt her and how she’d use it to protect herself

also ima! like the chapter where shiki wasn’t in her custody, part of me was like :( reading the way you described ima being torn and backtracking. it seemed like she cared for shiki, not just bec of her eyes (but mostly bec of them). though, I doubt she’d have taken care of shiki and come to care for her if shiki didn’t have her new eyes. but also the “come visit” at the end, she wants her to visit to ppl see how shiki is still from the tobuime line shshhd ima is so well fleshed out

and gojo!! I love how, arguably, shiki is gojo’s first family member who isn’t really terrified of his eyes (like she seems aware of how strong they are but, like, in a kinship way) and how gojo might be experiencing his first healthy family relationship. also the way shiki talked abt feeling calmer around gojo bec he had less lines!! and gojo ruffling her hair and defending shiki after he saw her injuries

and kiyohiri being a tsundere!! sharpening his knife pls, also shiki being like “weird, but okay” I can’t wait for future interactions?? like what’s next, hugging under the excuse of weight lifting idk

and shiki!! I love how she’s growing sm: like the interest w sakuna’s fingers having no lines, she’s growing and getting more n more skilled!! i can’t wait to see what she can do in a while— also will shiki be in the same grade as hakari and hoshi, or the second or first years

i think it’d be so funny if she was w the third years because she’d be like “??? where’s this boss music coming from” if she fought w hakari?? or like I think it’d be funny seeing yuuji go?? you’re related to nanami and gojo?? and just overall see her train w maki and the others and stuff!!

also little drabbles you post make me think shiki’s doing to grow up to be like a little shit in a leather jacket, I can’t wait!!

Hi anon and thank you so much for sharing your thoughts on the fic! Glad you've been enjoying the story thus far. :)

For all that Shiki feels most attached to Nanami, he really hasn't gotten too much screen time in the fic so far -mainly because of the circumstances, considering that Shiki was taken in by the Gojo Clan. I'm glad that the feelings do come across clearly in the instances where they have been able to interact, though!

Ima makes Shiki confused. Does the woman care for her? No. Does Ima not care for her? Also no. Just going to bring up here that the fic is narrated from Shiki's POV, too, and so there is a little bit of a filter on how events are being portrayed.

Gojo Satoru and Shiki! They will be good for each other. :)

Kiyohira is pretty fun to write haha, he'll have his moments in the future too.

That question about the years actually had me double-checking Shiki's age! And I'm really glad I suddenly decided to because I discovered a slight age discrepancy in the fic. I've just gone back and changed the instances where it comes up, but Shiki is actually not seven years old, currently. She should be six years old!

Since I haven't really been intentionally hiding it and anyone who's really interested should be able to find out anyways when checking numbers on their own end: Shiki will be in the same year as the third-year students.

#QA #zenith of stars #more on shiki #this is the second time i've messed up ages for my characters recently #glad i caught this somewhat early on haha #thanks for the ask anon!

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pa1nkill3r · 3 years

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"Now How Come I've Only Found Out About This Now?" [G.W]

[Pairing:] George Weasley x Fem!Artist!Reader

[Summary:] So far, George Weasley knows three things about his new potions partner; So why not make it four? Or five?

[Warnings:] use of mudblood, a bit of angst, a bit of swearing, a pov change at some point in the end, idk-- fluff?? (is that a warning??)

[Word Count:] ≈2.7k

[A/N:] i used @buckystrenchcoat 's fluff plots for george weasley: 2. George finding out you can draw (kind of got carried away but oh well :D--) (ps just imagine that classes in hogwarts includes all of the houses together, thanks <3) Y/H = your house. (dk the timeline or what year george and the reader are in but i'd say between 3rd-5th year)

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The Weasley twins were becoming reckless and apparently, Professor Snape has had enough. The constant explosions on the other side of the dungeon and the numerous attempts at drowning his hair with shampoo has eventually led him to the decision of assigning the entire class their partners.

Thus halfway into the semester, the Weasley twins are never to be seen together again... that is until the end of 2nd period where they will go back and cause mischief elsewhere.

Fred was assigned to a Slytherin girl who George couldn't figure out if she's madly in love with his brother or wants to rip out his guts. While he on the other hand was assigned with Y/N. Truthfully, he never gave much thought to her, but after their first double potions lesson as partners, he began to wonder why he never gave much thought to her.

She was smart but never overbearing, made jokes here and there, sniggered when he made even the cheesiest of puns, and is wicked attractive. Their first task was to brew a calming draught and whilst adding in a smidge more of lavender, she proposed that they should make more while the majority of the class was still struggling.

"Why in Merlin's beard are we going to make more? We can just pass this and leave class early?" He asked, bringing a smile to her lips. "Yeah, yeah, that's what you want, don't you Weasley?" She quipped, looking back up to the red-headed boy who's now readying their vials.

"Just thought that we could make some for people, like, your brother. Poor guy, reckon he's going to rip his hair out getting partnered with Tuttle." And with that, George let out a laugh, a laugh that cost Gryffindor 5 points. Though, all was well when they were the first to finish and send their little vial of calming draught into the hands of Severus Snape, garnering 5 points each and an opportunity to leave class 10 minutes early.

And that was it, that was their relationship; potions partners.

George Weasley learned 2 things that day. One, his potions partner was someone he wanted to know more, to be with more, and two, one should never put a liberal amount of peppermint in a calming draught. (Fred learned that the hard way.)

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She was the epitome of beauty and brains. So far, that's what he knew about his potions partner. But a little incident in the corridor made two into three.

It wasn't unusual for Fred and George Weasley to skip class, especially if the class was History of Magic. And it also wasn't unusual for them to hide behind a tapestry whilst a stinky dungbomb was set in the first-floor corridor.

What was unusual though, was George not wanting to move from their hiding place, forcing Fred to also not move. "George, mate, wha-?" "SHH!"

Whatever Fred's question was supposed to be, it quickly got answered by the presence of a certain someone whose walking to the Muggle Studies classroom, his brother's potions partner perhaps? Fred grinned mischievously, nudging his brother in the abdomen, and earning a wince.

"Oi mudblood! Was that you?" They heard from a distance, heavy footsteps following the girl he's teasing his brother with. From their point of view, they could tell that the girl stopped in her tracks, sighing heavily as though this was a regular thing.

"Was that me, what?" She asked, clearly annoyed. "Was that you who did it? Or d'you just shat yourself? It smells horrid. Would make sense, as you're a filthy little mudblood."

George's blood was beginning to boil, fingers formed into a fist, knuckles white. Especially when they got to see the silhouette of the two arguing. Perfect, Winnifred Tuttle, his brother's potions partner bullying his Y/N Y/L/N. He had an urge to protect her. To avenge her. To show her how much he cared for someone who's supposed to be his potions partner.

"Was that supposed to be an insult, Tutts?" Y/N spat back, pulling George out of his trance and making Fred shut his mouth. Now he's the one staring intently. "It's honestly just sad. A 'pureblood' like you should know the difference between a dungbomb and a piece of shit. Or perhaps you're probably just that daft?"

The boys were fixated on their conversation now. A hand on their mouths, hopefully covering up their shock even if they're hiding behind a tapestry. George's heart was beating faster now.

"Me? Daft? Well, if I'm daft then why are you taking muggle studies?" Tuttle sneered, an ugly grin splattered across her face.

"Bit hypocritical, isn't it, Winnie? Bye-bye!" She turned her back away from the Slytherin now, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom, holding a few books in one hand and her middle finger in the other.

He knows three things about her now; She's bewitching, she's a whizz, and she's a muggle-born who doesn't take shit.

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A few more lessons in and one could say that Y/N and George are starting to become friendlier to each other. Acquaintances, sure, but, friendly nonetheless. But the Gryffindor wanted to live up to its name, to its values. He might've just gotten to know a bit about her but he was completely and utterly entranced.

Nothing's going to stop him now.

His right hand held his wand as he stirred the concoction in the cauldron. She, on the other hand, was cutting up the stewed mandrake. The easy silence between them was broken by none other than the lion himself.

"Hey," he called, lifting his gaze from the potion to the girl right next to him. "Hi." She said back.

"So... Today's a Friday, right?"

She looked at him, confused, recounting a particular time in which she looked at a calendar today. "Yeah, I think so."

"And we can go to Hogsmeade after classes?"

"Pretty sure you can, why?"

"Want to go on a date?"

She looked stunned which kind of hurt George's ego but as soon as the slightly parted mouth of hers became a cheerful grin, he felt a whole lot better.

"As long as you stop staring at me and not over mix our potion, then sure, I'll go out with you." She smiled, making George give a shy little grin back before attempting to put all his concentration on the brew. Mind boggled on the way she said 'our potion.'

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Going to Muggle Studies felt utterly useless now that Y/N's been promised to go on a date right after. But having George by her side, walking her to the class just seemed to be the best part of the day.

He recounted the time when he and Fred hid behind a tapestry and told Y/N all about it, giving a hot feeling to her cheeks. They stopped by the door frame of the classroom, Professor Burbage was waiting inside, pacing around her study as George's hand slyly held Y/N's.

"I'll pick you up later?" He asked with the same shy smirk plastered on his face, cheeks pink and ears flushed. "Yeah. Thanks for walking me here. You shouldn't have." She uttered, heels rising and falling as she bounced on her toes.

"Just making sure that Tuttsy's not going to ruin your day, love." Y/N felt heat rising to her cheeks and ears, as well as an uncontrollable grin. Her heel turned to make her face the concrete walls of the castle, hands covering their face and body slightly swaying from side to side. It was ridiculous, really. Dumb. Very.

"You're adorable when you're flustered."

"Shut up, Weasley." And with that, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, leaving him slightly startled, stunned, and very red in the face. "You're adorable when you're flustered." She quipped, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom and taking her seat.

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Muggle Studies felt oddly slow that day. Usually, it lasted an hour but today it felt like a century. Professor Burbage's talk about electricity and muggle technology went in one ear and out the other.

If you'd ask why Y/N chose a subject she already knew plenty about, her answer would be that she wanted to see things from a different perspective. But truthfully, she just knew that she'd be good at it and it'd be an easy O.

So there she was; A scrap piece of parchment laid on the wooden desk and a pen since Professor Burbage discouraged the use of quills.

Her mind wandered off the moment she sat down on her chair. Feet either bouncing up and down or stuck straight onto the floor, she wouldn't know. What she did remember was her non-dominant hand posing itself as the other one scribbled on the piece parchment.

Her fingers played with the hazy light and the ink added depth. Soon she started sketching other things; The student in front of her, a study of Professor Burbage, a head with a moderately strong jaw and beautiful, short, messy hair. A male side profile with a big nose that has a slight bump on its bridge matching a cheeky grin with dimples. Her hand posed itself once more but this time she wasn't making it look like hers, she was making it look like his. Something she's seen many times before, and guiltily stared at once, twice, more than she could recount.

She was adding in the cluster of freckles when the worst happened; "Miss Y/L/N, still with us?" Professor Burbage stood at the front of the class, standing straight, clearly thinking about her posture. "Miss Y/L/N?"

She felt an elbow nudge her arm, and that was the thing that brought her back into reality. Her head whipped itself to face her seatmate then to her Professor, giving her a funny-looking nervous grin.

"Charm would get you nowhere, Miss Y/L/N. When was the first electricity generator introduced in Britain? And where was it installed?" She has to have something in that brain of hers. It must've been taught sometime when she was in muggle school. "Err-- 1900s something, Surrey--?"

Professor Burbage meekly chuckled, "Nice try. 1881. Godalming, Surrey. A point from Y/H then, I'm sorry."

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George was faithful and stuck to his word. Even being 5 minutes early after asking Professor Grubbly-Plank if he could go to the bathroom and have a wee, saying that the unicorns would definitely mind if he pissed on their trees.

He did not go to the bathroom but instead went straight to the Muggle Studies classroom. Leaning the side of his body onto the wall by the door. Trying his best to peer into the room and find his potions partner and soon to be his date and maybe even his. But he was getting ahead of himself.

The bell rang and he heard a loud shuffling sound of chairs being pulled back. The door was opened as students from all of the houses started pouring out and there she was. Looking beautiful as ever with her bag slung on her shoulder.

"Glad to see you're alright there, dove." He cooed, earning once again another shy smile. "Anything happened there?" He asked, pointing to the now open classroom.

"Felt way longer than usual, and I lost a house point." She said matter of factly. George chuckled, his heart filled with pride as he turned his head towards her.

"And what have you done to lose said house point?"

She smiled before reaching her hand into a pocket of her robes, pulling out a folded piece of aged parchment before handing it to the curious redhead.

"What's this? A love letter?" He bantered. "Just open it." And so he did. His nimble fingers unfolding the parchment, then he was stunned. Seeing his face drawn in ink with lines crossing over more lines was the last thing he expected. It looked like him. And it didn't look like Fred. It is him.

"I was just drawing in class but then I sort of blanked out and got a dumb question wrong." She paused, looking back up to see if the redhead was still listening. "Hello? Earth to George?"

"You drew me?" He was on a fine line of disbelief and awe. It truly looked amazing. She drew her hand at least three times before he recognized his was also there. She even got the little freckle he had on the middle of his wrist. The full body of ol' Professor Burbage brought so much of her energy and even the way her scarf wrapped around her neck was perfect.

Her cheeks were heating up again, realizing what she just did. "It's not that good. Just-- drew what I saw and, err-- whatever came to mind, I guess." Bad execution, sloppy excuse. "Okay, you've been looking at that for way too long now--"

"This looks bloody brilliant! Now how come I've only found out about this now?"

"Flattery would get you nowhere, Weasley." She joked, but he was serious.

"S'not 'flattery' if I'm stating what's true! It's amazing, you're amazing." She felt her heartbeat increase by a mile.

"Well then, I'm flattered." She said, adjusting the strap of her bag to hopefully let out some adrenaline. "And to answer your question, it'd be terrifying if I just started drawing in Snape's class. I swear that man has eyes at the back of his head. That's why this is a new discovery for you."

"Fuck, this is amazing!" He uttered.

"It's really not that good--"

"'S'really not that good' Some shit standards you have there. I'd put this in a museum!" He said loudly, extending both his arms and imagining that the piece of parchment was displayed on the Hogwarts walls. "If you don't like it then I'll keep it." George joked, expecting disapproval, which, to his shock, never came.

"Are you actually giving this to me?"

She shrugged, "I mean if you'd like a photo of you drawn by a teenage girl then be my guest." He smiled, genuinely smiled. He looked so pretty at that moment and there shouldn't be any holding back now.

"...But," She started, his gaze looked intently at her, ready to listen to whatever comes next. "There's a price."

"Between Freddie and I, we have 26 galleons and a few sickles." He said, earning a hearty laugh and a shake of her head. "Don't really think he'd like me to give all of it to you, I'm sorry. If you want I'd pay a bit then I--"

"No, George." She said, tugging lightly on his tie to gain his attention. "How about... a kiss? Perhaps?"

He grinned. His hand hovered itself across her face before landing on her cheek, thumb gracing itself on its apples, slightly squishing the skin whilst his eyes looked for any signs of discomfort; there was none.

They slowly leaned in, eyes locked on lips before their lips locked onto each other. His lips were slightly chapped but it felt like the softest thing on Earth. He smelled of cinnamon, firewood, gunpowder, and other indescribable scents, but it was nice. It was short but meaningful, gentle, even. His other hand was wrapped around her waist and once again, his thumbs were running up and down whatever part of her body it's laid on.

He learned two more things about the girl that day; she's artistic, and she felt like home.

He never thought there'd be a time in his life where he'd be thankful for Severus Snape. But life goes in unexpected ways.

"If you'd like to tip me then I'm just going to say that I love cauldron cakes." She grinned up at him as they pulled away before settling her face in his chest. George chuckled to himself before wrapping his arms completely on her waist, placing a sweet kiss on the top of her head.

"Yeah, yeah, come on." He said, pulling away to let her shake herself up as he held onto the piece of folded parchment which graced his face, giving it a small peck before putting it in his pocket, patting it three times.

"Better sign that drawing for me, Y/N. How much does an autograph cost?"

"Double the original price—?"

"And the tip?"

"And the tip."

#george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x ravenclaw!reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley fic #george weasley #george weasley x y/n #oml this is long

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 3 years

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in which harry joins a new gym and you’re a trainer there.

a/n: happy new years loves! wishing you all a lovely and happy 2021! first fic of 2021 and im so excited to write more stories this year! to start the new year, here is boxer!harry for you, and this is for my very own timetravelathon fic challenge! if you’d like to join, please let me know, I’d love to have you on board! this story takes place in the 1990, and i know some of the songs mentioned weren’t released specifically in 1990 (just a few years after), but just pretend it was lol because they’re too good to not mention in this story hehe, but happy reading and pls reblog and leave feedback <3

thank you to @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, love you always!

WORD COUNT: 22.6k of (kinda) boxer!harry x trainer!yn filled with angst and smut

WARNINGS: mentions of abandonment and blood

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘143’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

16 August 1990

With every move he made, Harry felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of his face, down his back, and trailing down his chest. Small huffs of breath were released from his mouth, trying not to make it known that he was exhausted, but he continued until all of his energy was used up through the very end.

“C’mon,” he muttered to himself, anticipating the certain words to be yelled out.

He’d been going at it for a while now, muscles aching as he felt like he was about to collapse any minute. But he was determined to finish, to feel the satisfaction running through his veins, knowing that this was his best round.

“And time!” His trainer yelled at him, clicking the stop button on his timer.

Harry got in one last punch before putting his arms down, the soreness made his limbs feel like jello as he shook them out. The black leather punching bag was swinging back and forth, the chain that held up the speed bag rattled and slid against the metal bar. Harry loved that sound because it indicated that he was going his hardest to where the chain couldn’t keep up.

“Nice one, kid.” Henson, his trainer said as he fist-bumped Harry’s red glove.

Harry simply nodded in appreciation, too exhausted to speak as he placed his gloves onto his knees, leaning down as beads of sweat dripped down onto the matted floor. Several harsh breaths came out of his mouth as he sniffed in the fresh oxygen that was mixed with the musky scent of the gym.

Benny, Harry’s best friend, exited the ring, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his arm before walking towards Harry, who was still leaning on his knees. Benny tapped Harry’s glove, making him stand up straighter, and Harry patted Benny’s back.

“Good job out there, mate,” Harry told his best friend. Benny was in the ring with one of the other trainers, Mike, doing one of the nonstop routines. Harry liked training with Mike in the ring, but not when it was for cardio and timed rounds; he liked when it was chill, so he knew how hard he had to hit the target, which were the pads. But for the timed rounds they did, Harry was usually by the speed bags and Mike was in the ring.

“You too, man,” Benny breathed out with a smile.

They headed over to the bench to take their gloves off and catch a breather. The pair would do a cardio day every Thursday to get a good, sweaty workout in, and it always left them exhausted, but definitely much stronger.

“Hey, I’m not gonna be able to workout next Thursday,” Benny mentioned. Harry furrowed his brows as he put the end of the strap between his teeth to pull it off from the velcro, taking one glove off.

“What? Why not?” Harry asked confusingly. They never really had to call off a workout, especially Thursdays, unless one of them was sick, but other than that, neither of them missed any workout days.

“I’m taking the wife on a date,” Benny smirked, clearly very excited to spend some time with his wife, but Harry wasn’t amused.

“On a Thursday? Why can’t you do that on Friday?”

Benny rolled his eyes. “Because we both called off Friday, so we’re having a four day weekend to ourselves,” he explained.

Harry huffed, clearly not entertained. “Guess so…”

Benny knew Harry was always like this, ever since they were younger. The two had been so close ever since they met, now that Benny had a wife, Harry always felt like the third wheel and that he rarely saw Benny, however, that wasn’t entirely true Benny exercised with Harry every night during the weekdays, and sometimes they even grabbed a bite to eat afterward when Benny could use that time to be with his wife, Marianne.

Harry had an overwhelming fear of abandonment, it led him to have anxieties about how Benny could just get up and walk out of his life, even though he wouldn’t. Maybe it was why Harry is so attached to him; he’s the closest to Harry and it would completely destroy him if Benny ever decided that he didn’t want to be his friend anymore. That fear only grew based on an unfortunate turn of events that happened in college, four years ago, and it left Harry to pieces. Benny had never seen Harry so broken where he literally had to pick him up and take care of him. He never wanted to see his best friend like that ever again because it absolutely crushed him.

“It’s two days that we’re not going to be seeing each other, chill out. Didn’t know you were that in love with me,” Benny joked, hoping to lighten up Harry’s mood. Luckily, it worked because Harry breathed out a chuckle, throwing his towel at Benny’s face.

The two collected their belongings and walked over to the trainers as they always do at the end of every workout to have a light chat with them. Henson and Mike told them they did a great job and asked to confirm if they were still on for tomorrow, which Benny and Harry both agreed to. Benny also mentioned about not being able to work out next Thursday and Friday, including the reason why he wasn’t able to.

Henson and Mike looked at each other as if they were keeping something from the two. Harry titled his head and looked at Benny as if he was asking if he knew the reason why they were looking at each other weirdly, but Benny just shrugged his shoulders, just as clueless as Harry.

“Are you gonna tell us why you’re acting suspiciously?” Harry asked. The two trainers both sighed defeatedly.

“About that…” Henson started. “Next Friday…we’re closing,” he added.

“Like, closing for the day?” Benny asked innocently, hoping they didn’t mean what he really thought.

“No…for good,” Mike stated. Harry and Benny’s eyes both widened, words coming out of both of their mouths profusely. They were both talking over each other, disagreeing and not accepting the fact that the gym was shutting down.

“You can’t just do that-”

“-No, we refuse to let you close down-”

“Alright, guys! Settle down. You’re starting to act like kids, for god's sake,” Henson interrupted the tantrum that was about to start.

“You guys can’t just do that!” Benny exclaimed.

“Why are you guys even doing that?” Harry asked.

Mike sighed. “We mutually decided that it was best to close down because…we really need the money. My rent has been skyrocketing crazy high because more people have just decided that moving to Los Angeles is fun.” He rolled his eyes, and Harry slightly chuckled because it was true. Hollywood was the place to be and people from out of state had just figured out their new profound dream to move to one of the busiest cities.

“Fight Night will never be forgotten, alright? We’re just ready to let this place go. Plus, the roof is leaking and the wall is tearing apart, and that’s gonna be a pain to fix,” Henson added.

Mike and Henson were brothers and built Fight Night when they were in college. With the help of their father, they decided to build a place to gain strength and power, all while helping others defend themselves. Harry and Benny had been frequenting it ever since college, and it felt like home to them. Aside from the yelling and stuffy scent, it was a place for them to release any type of anger or stress.

Benny introduced Fight Night to Harry when he had physically picked Harry up from the ground on, what possibly was, the worst night of his life. It was something Harry looked forward to after classes, anxiously bouncing his leg up and down, waiting to get to the gym. Fight Night helped rebuild him, and now, he was in disbelief that the gym was closing.

“We’re old as fuck now. We wanna live our lives freely. Time to retire now, don’t you think?” Mike said with a sad chuckle. They were both in their late fifties, so Harry and Benny understood why they wanted to be free of work.

The four of them hugged it out, a very emotional and sentimental hug that was heartwarming but sad. Eyes were slightly watered before Henson pushed them and said, “We’re closing the gym next week, not fucking dying! We have time for this bullshit for an entire week.”

Harry and Benny left the gym with bittersweet hearts, but they kept Fight Night close to them, knowing that they owed a lot to the gym and the two men who built the facility. Mike had recommended some gyms that were close by if they were still interested in boxing, which they definitely were, so they were planning to check them out first before signing up.

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” Harry asked once they were outside of the gym. The air was humid, nothing different from inside the gym since it was summer and the sun was beginning to go down.

“Nah, I’m good. Gonna get home to Marianne. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Benny pat Harry’s back, nodding.

Harry waved. “See you.” He watched Benny walk away before getting into his silver 1990 BMW 5 series, sighing. He always hated going home, and he always tried staying out for as long as he possibly could.

As he drove home, he anxiously tapped his hands on the steering wheel as he couldn’t quite keep them still. It’d been happening for a while, a lot more often than he’d like, but he couldn’t help it.

Walking into the darkness and emptiness of his home, he sighed sadly as he sulked all the way to the restroom to shower. The hot steam relieved his achy and sore muscles, but he was hoping for this shower to also release any occurring and bad thoughts he had in his head.

He couldn’t help but think about the gym closing down. After going there for years, he couldn’t imagine going to a new gym; he’d adapted and adjusted to Fight Night that it would take him forever to find a gym that truly made him feel wanted. He was scared, to say the least.

Harry was never a big fan of change. He liked being comfortable and stable and didn't like to move around a lot. So, the thought of going to a different gym that wasn’t Fight Night, terrified him. It only added to the list of things that had abandoned him.

Once he was out of the shower, white towel secured lowly on his hips, showcasing his beautiful toned torso that was filled and inked with tattoos, his pager beeped. He wondered who it was as he walked over to his nightstand, considering that it was nearing nine in the evening.

He deeply sighed when he saw the pager read ‘345987,’ immediately knowing who it was. The pager code meaning ‘I’m horny’ could only mean it’s coming from Lizette.

Deciding not to answer the page, Harry set his pager down before walking back to the restroom, only for his home phone to ring, causing him to stop in his steps and answer the phone.

“Hello?” Harry answered.

“Hey, baby,” Lizette said seductively. His brows furrowed, holding the towel to his waist as it had loosened up a bit.

“What do you want?”

“You know what I want…” He knew exactly what she wanted. If she hadn’t paged him, he would still know what she wanted from him since all he provided to her was sex. “Isn’t it such a coincidence that I’m outside of your door right now?” Harry didn’t say anything but pinch the bridge of his nose before hanging up.

He walked towards his front door, sighing before opening the door that revealed Lizette on the other side, wearing a low cut top, cleavage clearly showing, and high waisted denim shorts. She leaned on the doorframe, smirking as she looked Harry up and down, noticing that he wasn’t wearing anything but a towel. Harry gulped as she stepped forward, placing her hands on his stomach before completely taking the towel off, and a smug smile plastered on her face.

Harry lets her take over like he always did. The feel of someone else’s body holding his, and lips kissing his own and his skin was something he couldn’t compare to anything else. Harry simply only did this to have some companionship, and Lizette made him feel a lot less lonely even if she was only there to have sex with him. He enjoys it twenty-five percent of the time—the other seventy-five percent was him actually wallowing in wanting someone to love him for him.

After they were done, Harry immediately covered himself with the blanket as Lizette got out of the bed to change back into her clothes. Even though they had sex multiple times and she’s seen him naked, there was something about the vulnerability after the sex that he didn’t want her to see because she didn’t quite deserve that if he was being honest.

“I had fun. Call you next time,” Lizette bid him goodbye before smacking a big kiss to his cheek, leaving a lipstick stain on his skin. She walked herself out, and once Harry heard the slam of the front door closing, he cringed slightly, wiping the lipstick off.

He turned onto his side, deeply exhaling. He didn’t feel anything but numbness—it was always like this. He used sex to cope with how he felt, but it only made it worse. Honestly, he didn’t know what else to do, so it was the only thing he turned to, other than boxing.

Harry fell asleep in his lonely room by himself. His heart was empty and felt like an isolated building that only carried his sadness.

The entire week had gone by in a flash — Fight Night was officially closed down for good.

Harry and Benny helped clean the space out as they reminisced and talked about the memories that were made in that gym. A lot of the stories had to do with girls walking by the gym, glancing through the window to see men working out, and then promptly walking into the gym to try and hit on the guys.

Harry had tried convincing Henson that he could run the gym, but he shot down the idea before Harry could convince him.

“Kid, look. If you want to run your own gym, do it. I want you to own a gym under your name. Not mine or Mike’s. You deserve to have something of your own, and whatever that may be, work for it. Work hard for it. I know you got it in you because you’re a hard worker, determined. You need to see that for yourself.”

A conversation that was supposed to convince Henson to let Harry run the gym turned into a sentimental series of words that Harry really needed to hear. Harry didn’t say anything else and nodded as he took in Henson’s words to his heart. Henson was someone Harry looked up to. He was an old man with wise words, and everything he said was either meaningful or mean, in a way to show tough love. So, his words were something Harry lived by.

The following Monday after Fight Night closed, Benny and Harry were on the search for their new gym. They didn’t plan on quitting the gym after their favorite one had closed down, and Henson and Mike made them swear they wouldn’t stop working out.

Now, the two were walking into a gym that was up the same amount of time Fight Night was. ‘Don’s Box’ was what the gym was called. The building was newly reconstructed, making the place seem more modern and a little less dingy. The space was quite big, able to fit two rings, six punching bags spread throughout, eight-speed bags, and a weight rack. The walls were painted black, but the amount of natural light from the window was plentiful enough to make the gym feel bigger and brighter.

A decent amount of people were at the gym, sectioned off with a few kids from eight to twelve on one side, and the rest of the adults on the other. There was a good mix between women and men, and everyone hyped everyone up with motivating words and claps over the music that was playing through two speakers that were hung in the corner.

“Can I help you?” An older man with gray hair had asked the two. He looked quite intimidating; wearing nylon sweatpants and a black long-sleeved shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, showing his gold watch. The look he had on his face was stern as he crossed his arms, waiting for an answer.

“Uh, yeah. We’re interested in joining your gym,” Benny told the man. The man looked the two up and down and scoffed.

“Sure you guys are ready for that?”

“We’ve been boxing for years, so yeah, we are.” Harry chimed in, a slightly defensive tone added to his words.

The man glared at Harry, stepping towards him. Harry was slightly taller than him, but he knew the man could definitely take him at any given moment, but Harry wasn’t looking to fight the man, honestly. He wanted to act and look tough in front of him, so the guy wouldn’t give him any crap for it later down the road during his workouts.

“Alright, alright. Take it easy, pa.” You interrupted, placing a hand on the man’s shoulders, making him turn his head. You raised your brows at him before tilting your head a bit, telling him to step back. The man backed off, giving Harry a snarly glance before huffing.

“I’m just messing. Gotta know how tough my athletes are to be here,” he spoke in a lighter tone than he was to the man in front of him, putting his arm around you.

“Thought you were gonna ‘stay on the sidelines’ and let me handle it?” You quoted your father’s words back to him, and he chuckled, putting his hands up, surrendering as he knew he couldn’t win against you.

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you handle it.” Don, your father, quickly looked at Harry up and down, and you rolled your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t do anything to potential customers. He walked away and you breathed out a chuckle, scratching your head.

“Sorry about that. You two are interested in joining?” You asked the two men in front of you. They were rather…attractive, you noticed. The one on the left was gorgeous with beautiful brown skin that looked so smooth. He was wearing a pair of red short-shorts and a white muscle tee. You noticed that he was wearing a wedding ring, so you averted your eyes off of him. The man next to him, however, was absolutely stunning. His left arm carried a sleeve-full of tattoos, and you wanted so badly to examine and look at every single one. With chocolate brown curls, his green eyes had a tad bit of a glimmer to them, not too much though, because if you were being honest, they were a bit dull, like he was exhausted and needed to let off some of the stress that he held based on how tense he looked.

You tried not to observe and think about it too much as your ability to read individuals thrived while meeting new people. You shook it off the thought, not wanting to assume things about their lives and seem too creepy in front of new and potential members.

“Yeah, we are. I’m Benny, by the way.” He shook your hand, smiling.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. I run this place.” You offered the same smile back. Your eyes looked over at his friend, and he gave you a soft smile. “Y/N,” you repeated, taking your hand out for him to shake.

“I’m Harry. Harry Styles,” he introduced fully. A beautiful name for a beautiful man, you thought. He shook your hand as you felt the softness of his skin mixed with a tad bit of roughness from the callouses, probably from heavy-lifting.

Something about Harry introducing his full name had made you a bit weak in the knees. His deep and accented voice had made you a bit flustered as chills ran up your body. You’re acting like a fool, your subconscious told you. You were never one to show your obvious attraction for men, you were more into watching them from the side. But once Harry walked in, it seemed like you didn’t know how to keep your chill.

“Perfect. Nice to meet you both. Signing up shouldn’t be too long—don’t want to keep you two from working out.” You led the two men to one of the offices, knocking on the wooden door to greet Jamie. “Hi. These two are looking to sign up. Do you mind helping them out?”

“Of course! Come on in, guys,” Jamie greeted them, offering them to take a seat along with some water, which they both said yes to.

“I have to get back to my session, but you both are in great hands. Jamie is one of our best,” you told the two. You sent an innocent wink at Jamie, which he sent one back while Harry watched the entire interaction, feeling uneasy.

It was quite obvious how attractive and pretty you were. The moment he first saw you, his breath had immediately hitched in his throat. You had the most gorgeous face he’d ever seen, and when you spoke, your voice was soft and gentle, making Harry a bit more safe in a place he’s new to.

Jamie had gotten their details and credit card information down before asking them if they needed a tour of the place. They both had said no, seeing as things were pretty self-explanatory and they’d been to a boxing gym before.

They headed out of Jamie’s office and to the main floor, walking over to the heavy bags since the section was less crowded to start stretching. Harry rolled his shoulders and neck around, swinging his arms forwards and backward as he looked around the gym.

This was something he had to get used to—being in a new place, surrounded by new people. At Fight Night, he was around the same people for four years, and he was comfortable — he was fine with it. But now, he had to go through the same process all over again. Nerves and anxiety crept up his skin as he tried to jump around lightly, warming up a bit but also trying to shake off the unwanted feelings.

“Hey, you okay?” Benny asked concerningly as he stretched.

Harry’s brows raised, covering up his anxiousness. “Hmm, yeah, I am. Y’know, just a, uh, new place, that’s all,” he brushed him off.

“Okay. Well, whenever you’re ready to go, just tell me,” Benny told him before going into his bag to grab the wrapping tape.

Harry nodded, smiling in appreciation. Benny had always been a great friend to him, and Harry was a great friend to Benny as well. They always took each other’s feelings and concerns into consideration—always making sure the other is okay. They both really appreciated it because some friends weren’t lucky enough to talk about their feelings and be that vulnerable with one another. They trusted each other; they were like brothers.

Harry grabbed his jump rope, deciding to do a little five-minute warm-up to get his heart rate going. He faced the boxing ring to the left of him, noticing that you were in the ring, so he decided to casually watch you box. He then noticed that you had boxing pads on instead of gloves, and the people you were training were the kids that he had seen earlier.

He watched you instruct the excited kids who were prancing around with their boxing gloves on, in every color imagined. You helped them fix their form, their stance, and their punch; telling them that they had to be quick with their hit to bring their glove back to the side of their face quickly, so their opponent doesn’t have a chance to take a hit. The kids demonstrated for you, punching your right hand that was covered with the pad. You praised all of them, of course, correcting a few things, but overall, everyone was a natural fighter.

Harry’s heart rate definitely started to pick up, and he didn’t know if it was how fast he was jumping rope or because of the flutter he felt as he watched you interact with the kids. He truly never felt this kind of feeling where his heart picked up from the simple act of looking at someone.

You had definitely noticed Harry staring at you from your peripheral view, and you had thought it was a simple glance, but he never looked away. So, you took the opportunity to take a quick look at him while the kids were practicing.

Your eyes met him and you sent him a small smile, along with a wave with your boxing pads. Harry’s eyes widened, realizing that you were waving at him, and what happened next had embarrassed him even more. With how fast he was jumping, he suddenly got tangled with the rope, causing him to trip against it. Luckily, he caught his fall, but he was already embarrassed enough.

Harry’s heart completely dropped, cheeks flushed. He couldn’t believe he had made a complete fool of himself, especially at his new gym. He so badly wanted to tell Benny that he was ready to leave, but when he looked over at his friend, he had already started his workout, being so focused and in the zone that Harry didn’t want to be a burden.

When he turned back around to see if you were still looking, he jolted back a bit as you were behind him.

“Are you okay?” You asked concerningly.

“Uh, yeah. I…yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” He cleared his throat, trying to cover up the fact that his voice almost cracked. He was so stunned by you. The way you made sure he was okay was possibly the nicest thing someone had done for him as you looked at him with your sweet eyes, and your posture was giving him your full attention. His heart pounded through his chest; the simple action and effort that was being put into this was making him overwhelmed.

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” You told him as you looked at him intently. He simply nodded, knowing that he couldn’t process any more words.

You gave him one last smile before quickly going back to your students. He watched you climb into the ring so effortlessly before continuing your training class.

Harry took a deep breath before walking over to one of the speed bags that was in the corner, hoping to hide away from the embarrassment that he felt. Wrapping his hands up, he anxiously scanned the room, noticing that everyone was doing their own thing. There was a possibility that no one else had seen him almost fall on his face, except you, which he really wished that it was the entire gym who saw him instead, not you. He lazily hit the speed bag, trying to warm up and shake off his mortification. Harry continued hitting the bag, eventually getting into a rhythm as his fists alternated between one another, along with the rhythm of the music of Montrell Jordan’s ‘This Is How We Do It.’

Soon enough, all the worry and stress that was in Harry’s head and body was shaken off and completely forgotten about as he focused on his strong punches, making sure to connect his mind to his muscles, so he could feel his muscles working.

And for the time being, life wasn’t all that bad.

A month had passed since being at Don’s Box, and Harry and Benny quite liked it. They had newer equipment and their music was always on point, playing the best of 90s R&B and Hip-Hop. It was their favorite music to listen to, especially while working out. The people there were nice and cool, never getting in each other’s way and letting everyone do their own thing while still having fun, keeping the space safe and comfortable.

Harry found himself walking into the gym at nine at night, an hour and a half before it closed. Usually, he wouldn’t work out this late, but during the day, he had felt so unmotivated and lazy to even get out of bed. He could put the blame on Lizette because she had gone to his house the night prior, doing the same thing they always do, but he knew she wasn’t the one to blame. Something about saying no to her and having her not talk to him had physically pained him. They were in a specific arrangement, he knew that. But having someone leave him again was something he couldn’t go through.

‘What’s Luv?’ by Fat Joe, Ja Rule, and Ashanti was playing when he set his bag down onto the ground against the wall, next to the heavy bag. He started to stretch as he took a look around; not many people were working out at this time, which he liked.

His eyes continued to search the gym, in hopes he would find you still here. Before the slightest bit of disappointment could settle, he saw you walk out of the hallway with Jamie, smiling and laughing at something he had said. He made a face as a hint of jealousy rushed through as he saw you with Jamie. He knew that there was no point in being jealous because he barely even knew you. But for the past month that he’s been at Don’s Box, you always had this look of excitement on your face when you saw and greeted Harry. It made his stomach flutter every time you would flash him your beautiful smile as you would carry the conversation, asking him about his day and if the music was good, which he commends you for putting his favorite songs on.

Looking away, he decided to just focus on the quick workout he could get in before the gym closed, so he retained his attention back to stretching before bending down to grab the tape from his bag to wrap his hands.

“Uh, hi, Harry,” you smiled as you greeted him. He looked up at you. The way the light was positioned behind your head made you look like an actual angel; you were ethereal.

He stood up and smiled softly. “Hi. How are you?” He asked, trying to contain his nerves from just looking at you. You were gorgeous, as you always are every day. You were wearing a pair of black leggings and a light pink t-shirt that was tied into a knot with the word ‘angel’ that was surrounded by wings printed in the middle. Kind of a coincidence, he thought, thinking back to when he called you an angel in his head.

“Good, good. You’re here later than usual—without Benny too,” you pointed out, but immediately cursed at yourself for making such an odd observation and telling it to his face as if you were keeping track of the times he’s gone into the gym.

“Yeah, I was pretty…tired during the day, so the only time I got a burst of energy was right now. And Benny is with his wife and in-laws tonight, so it’s just me tonight,” he explained with a soft chuckle.

“Well, glad you got the chance to make it in,” you said genuinely. He simply nodded, not knowing what else to say but instead he captured himself into you as you stared at him with your captivating eyes that spoke right through him. What was happening to him? He thought. This hadn’t really happened before, and he was good at letting his walls go up and guarding his precious heart.

“Hey, I’m gonna head out,” Jamie said, greeting you goodbye, and taking Harry out of his thoughts. “Hey, man. Have a good workout.” He shook Harry’s hand, and Harry smiled, nodding.

“See you tomorrow,” you told Jamie, smiling a bit as you waved. Jamie left the gym, and it was just you and Harry, along with a few other people who were wrapping up their workout.

“Are you not gonna go with him?” Harry asked, and you raised your brows in confusion.

“Why would I go with him?” You wondered.

“Oh, I just thought you would leave with him, y’know, your boyfriend…” he trailed off, slyly slipping in the word boyfriend in that sentence.

You giggled, shaking your head. “No, no. Jamie isn't my boyfriend. I’ve known him since I was ten, but nothing’s ever happened between us. Besides, he has a boyfriend of his own.” Harry raised his brows in shock as his shoulders visibly relaxed. “No need to worry, Harry. I’m all yours,” you flirted a bit. You normally wouldn’t flirt so easily with someone, especially if they were a member of your gym, but something about Harry had made you release all the stress you had once you saw and talked to him.

Harry blushed, grinning as his dimple popped out on his cheek. Your eyes lightened once you noticed that feature, making you think that he was ten times cuter than he already is.

“You’ve been in the ring, right?” You asked curiously. Harry nodded, and the corner of your lips turned up. “Great! We have about a little less than an hour and a half, so if you’re looking for some intense cardio, I could do it with you—y’know, train you and guide you, and whatnot,” you suggested.

If Harry’s being honest, he wasn’t planning on doing cardio today—just a few routines to get his muscles warm, but the way you’re looking at him and how you spoke to him so softly and effortlessly, he couldn’t say no.

“Yeah, I’m up for it,” he responded. Your eye brightened, resisting the urge to squeal from excitement, telling him that you were going to get the mitts and to meet you in the ring. He chuckled slightly as you walked over to the equipment room to get the mitts. Harry quickly hit the speed bag to warm up until he saw you walk out of the room.

He put on his gray sweater and a green packers beanie, so he could sweat more before he met you in the ring with his gloves pressed between his arm and the side of his body. You put the mitts in between your legs as Harry handed you one of the gloves. Holding onto the end of it, he put his hand inside as you pushed the glove towards him, so it would sit on his hand tightly before strapping it securely for him before proceeding to the next one. The proximity between you two was quite close as you helped him put on the gloves, and you could smell the faint scent of cologne mixed with the slightest bit of sweat, giving him that unique musk; the one that doesn’t smell horrible at all but lured you in.

You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and looked up at Harry. “Good?” He nodded, punching the gloves together to make sure they felt comfortable. “Ready?”

“Let’s do this,” Harry said, skipping in place to warm his body up before getting into his stance. His left leg was a few feet away from his right leg as he bounced around a bit, waiting for you.

You faintly smirked, nodding your head before you put on the mitts. Since Harry was very familiar with the mitt workouts, you figured that you didn’t need to explain what each number represented since mostly all trainers and coaches use the same numbers for the same punch.

“Okay, let’s warm up a bit. Give me one,” you instructed. Harry put his gloves up to protect his face as you held your right mitt up. With his left hand, he punched your mitt, not giving his full strength. “Is that all you got?” You challenged, knowing that he had more power in him.

“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he said honestly with a small pout, standing straight from his boxing stance. Usually, you would take offense to that statement, barking back a comment saying that just because you were a girl it didn’t mean you couldn’t take a hit, but you didn’t go that far into it, knowing Harry didn’t mean it that way whatsoever.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Harry. I’ve trained so many people—all with different body types and strengths. My hand has felt all different types of power, so hit the mitt like you mean it.” You hit his shoulder, building up his motivation. He nodded, getting back into his stance as did you. “Now, give me one.”

This time, Harry’s glove met your mitt with full potential and force, and you took the hit well—not moving back or being stunned.

“There you go! Keep going,” you told him, and he continued giving you jabs. ‘In Da Club’ by 50 Cent was blaring through the speakers as Harry breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. Several huffs of breath came out loudly as he punched, moving and dancing around the ring with you as the two of you occasionally shifted and switched positions.

Harry got in a few more punches before you switched it up, telling him, “1-2.” Harry jabbed with his left hand and crossed jabbed with his right hand, putting his full range of motion into his right punch. He did that combination five times as he started to feel sweat dripping down his back and the sides of his forehead.

You were yelling out words of encouragement and motivation, praising him for his punches, to which he responded back with a better and solid punch to your mitts.

“Nice!” You took a step back to move around the ring to take advantage of the space as Harry jumped and skipped around to wherever you directed him to. “Wanna take a break?” You asked. He shook his head no, determined to finish this workout that he couldn’t even think about wanting to take a break because he really didn’t want to. “Okay, 1-4-3,” you told him. With force, he jabbed, hooked with his left hand, and hooked with his right hand.

This feeling that he had felt—being in the ring with you—was something entirely different than when he was in the ring with Henson or Mike. The stress that he physically carried onto his shoulder had washed away into nothingness, leaving him with a drive that didn’t include overthinking and fear. The fear that had left him worried and depressed, that his life would amount to nothing—that fear disappeared inside him once he threw the first punch. It was exhilarating and fun, and he didn’t know he could have this much fun in the ring. But this was the most pleasure he’s ever felt while boxing.

You ordered him to do some different combinations, such as ‘1-2-3-5,’ which was a jab, cross jab, leading hook, and rear uppercut. You also included moments when he had to duck because you were swinging at him. He definitely had gotten into a rhythm, punching and moving faster. You were the trainer, the person that was supposed to instruct him, but you matched his rhythm and energy and moved quicker with him as well.

You were starting to get a sweat in as well, and that was mostly because of the adrenaline rushing through your blood as you moved excitedly around the ring.

After a while, a timer had gone off, telling you that it was time to close up as Harry’s focus was cut off—the sound making him look up hastily. Throughout the time you were working out with Harry, people were slowly starting to make their way out, but the two of you were too focused on working out that you hadn’t even noticed that it was just the two of you left in the gym.

“Oh, guess we’re closing.” You stood up straighter, wiping the sweat on your forehead with your forearm. “Feelin’ good?” You asked Harry with a proud smile.

“Feelin’ great,” he smirked.

“Good, I’m glad. You did great!” You complimented, ripping the velcro strap with your teeth as you took off the mitts. Harry did the same, shaking out his arms as he clenched and unclenched his fists to relieve the ache from making a fist for more than an hour.

“Thank you. You’re a really great trainer, by the way. This was…the first time I had fun in the ring,” he told you honestly, and without knowing, the slightest bit of him had opened up to you.

Your eyes brightened, a glimpse of shimmer reflected on your eyes. “Really? Thank you, that makes me really happy, actually.” You felt like you were going to cry on the spot. No one, except your younger students, had ever told you that they had fun in the ring since most people used boxing as a way to get stronger and improve their punches. But fun? That was the first, and you would definitely keep that with you forever.

You and Harry walked to one end of the ring as Harry held open the top two ropes with his hand as he stepped on the bottom two ropes with his foot, holding it open for you to get out. You blushed, thanking him before you got out of the ring as he followed you out.

Once you two were on the ground, you turned around to face him. You watched as he took off his beanie, shaking his hair out as they bounced; curls were now formed into waves because of the heat and the sweat that had produced in his beanie. He looked…extra good right now. With his cheeks flushed, hair messy, and sweat dripping down his forehead, you couldn’t put into words how incredibly sexy he looked.

You cleared your throat, not wanting to get caught for ogling him. “I, uh, have to check on some things before closing. Take your time! And I’ll see you on Monday?” You raised your brows and curled your lips in as you looked up at him. A sense of flustered-ness settled in you as you waited for his answer.

He breathed out a chuckle as he looked down briefly before looking back into your eyes again. “Yeah, I’ll see you.” You nodded your head, waving at him before you headed over to the office. Harry smiled as he watched you walk into the hallway until he couldn’t see you anymore.

A small blush formed onto his cheeks as he contained himself from smiling too big and too wide. He put all of his stuff back into his bag, grabbing his towel, ridding the sweat off his skin. Grabbing his belongings, he took another glance at the hallway, hoping to get another look at you before he took off, but you were occupied with closing the gym, so he didn’t bother staying any longer.

With a small smile on his face, he walked out of the gym, taking in this new profound feeling that he’d never felt before, hoping this feeling would last.

The next morning, Harry had a sudden urge to go back to the gym. His upper body was quite sore, but he figured he could do some leg exercises to balance the soreness he felt. He normally wouldn’t workout on the weekends since those were his rest days, but despite being sore, he didn’t feel tired. It could also do with the fact that he wanted to see you again, not wanting to wait until Monday to do that again.

When he walked into the gym, ‘Ride Wit Me’ by Nelly was playing and his head slightly bopped to the music, walking over to the corner of the gym to warm up. He scanned the gym, looking for a particular person, but couldn’t find you. There were a decent amount of people, not too crowded or too little, so it should’ve been easy to find you. Thinking that you were probably in your office, he shook off the slight disappointment and got ready to workout.

Throughout his workout, his head wasn’t in it. He kept glancing through the mirror to see if you had shown up, but you hadn’t. His eyes were always looking over at the front door every time someone would walk in, but a small frown settled onto his face when he realized it wasn’t you.

He wrapped up his workout an hour later, thinking that he somewhat still got a good workout in. He walked out of the gym, saying bye to some of the guys that had caught him before he left.

It was nearing noon when his stomach had growled, urging him to consume some food. There was a Mediterranean hole-in-the-wall restaurant right across Don’s Box, and his mouth watered at the thought of it. He walked to his car that was parked on the side of the street to drop his bag off before walking across the street to the restaurant.

He scanned the menu, standing on the side since he didn’t know what he was ordering yet. The sound of the door ringing and a voice that was speaking to him brought him out of his thoughts.

“Are you in line?” Harry turned his head towards the voice, and his heart nearly beating ten times faster when he saw you. He had a shocked expression on his face, not expecting to see you, especially when you were wearing the complete opposite of what he normally sees you in. You were wearing a pair of blue denim overalls with a black t-shirt underneath, along with white Reebok sneakers. You had a bit of makeup on; an orange sparkly eyeshadow look with some mascara that made your eyelashes look full and natural. Your lips were painted in a red-orange lipstick stain, bringing out more of your natural lip color.

The beauty that Harry’s eyes were blessed with made his knees weak, sending shivers to his skin. Your angelic appearance had struck him so hard that he was sure he would see the light of day, hoping to meet you up there since you were a real-life angel.

“Y/N…hi,” he managed to spit out.

“Hi, Harry. Did you just workout?” You asked.

He nodded, feeling a bit nervous. “Uh, yeah, I did.”

“You don’t usually go in on Saturdays…” you noticed, only seeing him during the weekdays. You’re off on Saturdays, but there was one Saturday that you had gone into the gym briefly, and you didn’t see him there.

“Yeah, I felt like going in today,” he said, obviously leaving out the part that he only went to the gym to see you again, but you didn’t need to know that bit. There was a moment of silence between you two until Harry remembered that he was probably holding up the line for you. “Oh, you could go ahead. I’m not ready to order yet.”

You smiled, nodding your head as you stepped forward in the line. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No, I haven’t. Do you have any suggestions?”

You slightly squinted your eyes at him. “Do you trust me?” You asked.

That was a difficult question for him, and somewhat vague. Did you mean overall, at the moment, or for his food order? Either way, he nodded because he knew that it didn’t matter what you meant--he had this sense of security with you that he would trust you with his life, and that said a lot, considering that he’d only known you for a month.

“Yeah, I do trust you,” he stated honestly.

His words brought a grin to your face, looking at him appreciatively. Based on your observations of him, you noticed that he was a bit closed off; he didn’t open himself up, and if he did, it took a lot in him to do just that. So, hearing him tell you that he trusts you made you grateful, and you would never do anything to take advantage of that trust because he didn’t just give it out easily.

“I got you,” you simply said before turning back around towards the cashier. Harry softly smirked as he took a step forward to stand next to you. You looked at him, flashing him a toothy grin before quickly facing forward.

You ordered your favorite dish from the restaurant, which was a beef kabab plate, for the both of you. Harry quickly got his wallet out, offering to pay, but you told him that you got it this time, hoping your words conveyed that you wanted there to be a next time. He shyly thanked you for the lunch, keeping your words in mind because he would definitely be up for a ‘next time.’

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for your order to come out, which was fortunate for Harry because he was starving. You suggested eating outside since it was a beautiful day out and Harry agreed, following you out of the restaurant.

You two sat on the metal chairs, digging into your dishes. Harry’s mouth watered as he ate, his stomach being satisfied. There was a comfortable silence that settled between you two, only making small conversation when you asked if he liked the food, which you were glad to hear that he loved.

“So, how long have you been running Don’s Box?” He suddenly asked, wanting to get to know you better.

You raised your brows at his question. “For about two years now. My father, Don, opened the gym when he was twenty-five, that’s when he had me as well. But when he opened the gym, it practically changed his life. He’d boxed all of his life, and he was happy training other people when he started getting more people to come into his gym. When I was about six, he told me that he wanted me to run the gym when I turned twenty-five, only if I wanted to. But of course, I did. I looked up to him all of my life, and the gym made me happy as well,” you explained, smiling at the memory of when you were younger, being excited to turn twenty-five to do the same thing your father did.

A soft smile appeared on Harry’s face as you reminisce on the memory.

“How long have you been boxing?”

“Since I was eight. Don showed me the ropes when I told him I was ready. There used to be a seating area on the side of the ring because when I was younger, I used to sit there and watch him work and train people. So, I was pretty interested and intrigued about fighting to get myself stronger, even at the young age of eight,” you chuckled.

You were a daddy’s girl, always had been since you were born. Don had always set a pretty amazing example of how you should go about living your life. He would always say ‘Live your life with a strong punch. Keep your head up, and don’t let anything get to you because you’re so much more than what other people say. But if you need to cry, you can—there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.’

As your eyes watered from the thought of your father’s words, Harry watched as you got emotional and he couldn’t help but think that you’ve crossed a line in asking too many questions.

“Sorry, I always get emotional-”

“I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped—I should’ve kept the questions to myself-”

“Oh, no! You didn’t overstep whatsoever. I’m glad you asked me those questions, I just get soft and emotional over my dad, so hence, I’m tearing up,” you let out a somewhat pathetic chuckle as you couldn’t believe that you almost cried in front of this gorgeous man. You dabbed the corners of your eyes with your napkin, stopping the tears from falling out.

Harry nodded understandingly, waiting for you to regroup yourself. You kept apologizing, but he kept telling you that you had nothing to be sorry for.

“Really, if you need to cry, you can…” he told you. Your eyes widened; you were just thinking about your dad’s words two minutes ago, and for Harry to say the exact same thing Don had always told you without even knowing that Don had said those words.

Not wanting to cry in front of him, you simply nodded your head, holding the napkin on the outer corner of your eye, so the napkin would catch your tears.

Harry quickly changed the subject, sensing that you needed it, and you really did, so you were grateful for that. He busied himself by telling you what his favorite ice cream flavor was since he was suddenly reminded that there was a shop just down the street. He kept you occupied by talking about all the sweet treats that he used to eat with his mom back home, and how much he missed walking down the streets in the city to eat some ice cream.

“My mum used to make this really great chocolate mousse pie, and we would eat it every weekend. It was extremely sweet, but it was delicious. I really miss it…” he told you. That had been a while ago, but it was like he could still taste the dessert as if he just ate it yesterday.

“Is your mom back home in England?” You asked, figuring that there wasn’t any harm in asking to get to know him since he asked you some questions as well.

“Uh…actually, I don’t know where she is…” he said honestly, and you knitted your brows in confusion. “I mean, honestly. I don’t know where she is. Ever since I went to uni, she’s been all over the place, taking vacations and barely calling. I-I feel like she’s forgotten about me,” he spoke ever so softly as he was fragile.

You listened to him intently, giving him your full attention as he was opening up a part of his life that you knew he doesn’t tell a lot of people. A part of him that he’s kept in for so long and just the passing sense of relief he felt saying those words and speaking up about this subject had made him feel so much better.

“I’m sure she didn’t forget about you.”

“Seemed like it. We inherited my grandfather’s will—left us a generous amount for each of us that’ll take care of us for the rest of our lives. And she took that and ran with it. I mean, I get it—she wants to live her life, and now’s the time to do that because she’s got the money for it, but I feel…abandoned. She got up, said goodbye, and just…left. It just makes me think that I’m not good enough—that I wasn’t good enough to stay.” Harry opened a can of worms that he can’t take back anymore. But the trust that he had in you already made him want to talk about everything with you; to open up about all of his stresses and insecurities.

Boldly, you reached your arm across the table but immediately pulled away because you didn’t want to touch him without asking. But before you could open your mouth and ask, Harry had reached forward, meeting your hand halfway as his palm was facing up as if it was a way of saying ‘you can hold my hand if you want.’ Blushing, you reached forward again and took your hand into his.

The touch was sweet and tender as you two held hands; the want to hold each other tighter was present, wanting to take away Harry’s pain.

“Harry, you will always be good enough. I know we just met a month ago, but I already know that you’re the sweetest, kindest person. Please know that. You are enough, and I’m grateful that you’re here and that I’m sitting across from you, eating lunch,” you declared. Harry sniffled, not knowing what to say as he put his head down, so you continued. “For as long as we’re friends, I’m gonna stay.” You spoke with complete honesty as you caressed the back of his hand with your thumb.

Harry’s head lifted up at your last statement in disbelief as if this was the first time someone had ever said that to him.

“Really?”

You squeezed his hand, making his heart flutter. “Yeah. As long as you want me to,” you reassured, nodding.

Harry gave you a soft and appreciating smile as he took a deep breath. The breath that he held in throughout the entirety of the conversation was finally let out in relief. He shrunk back into his seat, still holding your hand as you continued rubbing it, and he breathed out a chuckle. It was an overwhelming feeling that was riddled with happiness and a sense of security washed over him.

It was like he had been waiting for you; someone new that unexpectedly came into his life was scary because it was change, but it was a good change. A change for the better. He had been vulnerable enough to open himself up, and it all led to the tight bond and trust you two had with one another, sealing your friendship and relationship.

And you both knew this moment was going to change everything.

Time had passed by rather quickly as it was nearing the end of October. The weather was getting chillier as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the clouds earlier. There was something about the fall weather that Harry adored. It may have to do with the fact that the gloomy sky had occurred more often, or how he got to call it a night early. Whatever it may be, he liked it, or he used to.

In recent times, he wanted the sun to stay out until it was time to go to bed. He wanted warm days instead of gloomy. His new changed attitude towards life had to do with you.

You and Harry had been hanging out quite a lot; getting to know one another, getting a bite or drink, and working out together, it definitely gave Harry the chance to let go of his past. He was happier, smiled more, and laughed a lot which he didn’t know he was capable of doing those things again until he met you.

Benny loved it, though. He sure cherished it because seeing his best friend happy again was something he was afraid he wouldn’t see again. But that didn’t stop him from having a little talk with you, trying to protect Harry and set you straight.

When Harry was occupied with hitting the speed bag, Benny walked over to the ring, where you had just finished another class with your younger students.

“Hey, Benny!” You greeted him once you saw him walk towards you.

“Hey, do you mind chatting for a minute?” You raised your brows, nodding your head. Benny usually didn’t talk to you privately nor was it anything serious, but by the look on his face, it seemed pretty serious. “So, you’ve been hanging out with Harry a lot, hmm?”

You smiled softly. “Yeah! Hope you don’t mind that? Know I’m taking your best friend and all…”

“No, I don’t mind. I’m actually glad you are. He seems quite taken by you, and I haven’t seen him like that in a very long time,” Benny said honestly. You seemed to know where this conversation was going now, and now that you thought about it, you expected this from Benny because they were like brothers and Benny would do anything to protect Harry. “What I’m trying to say is…if you’re only hanging out with him to fuck with him, don’t bother. He’s been through enough, and I know he can’t handle anymore of that and I can’t stand to see him like that again.”

“Like what?” You hesitatingly asked.

“Like…just know that he was a mess. He couldn’t get up, eat, drink, shower, or anything. I had to physically help him. I don’t want to see him like that ever again.” Benny shook his head as if he was reliving the horrible nightmare that he went through a few years ago.

“Is this about his mom?”

“He told you that?” He asked, just to make sure, and you nodded. “Kind of. But that’s only half of it. He’ll tell you when he’s ready, but I’ve already said too much. Just…take care of him, okay? He tries to act tough sometimes, but he’s trying his best to not break down. Although, I haven’t seen that kind of look on him since he’s been hanging out with you, so you’re probably doing something right.”

You nodded understandingly. “Thanks for talking to me. I don’t plan on breaking his heart at all, and I’m quite taken with him myself,” you admitted.

“Good. I’m glad you are. He’s a great guy.” Benny smiled, and you agreed.

Benny didn’t talk to you for much longer before he started getting cold from standing around, so he ended the conversation and went back to working out.

Meanwhile, as you and Benny were talking, Don took the chance himself to talk to Harry, seeing as you were occupied.

“Harry.” Don made himself present around him.

Harry immediately stopped his workout, greeting your father. “What’s up, Don?”

“So, I’ve noticed that you’ve been hanging around Y/N a lot.” Don’s stance changed as he crossed his arms, sporting a slight frown. Harry gulped; he always found Don to be quite intimidating, ever since he joined the gym, but Harry didn’t want to seem like he couldn’t have a serious conversation with the father of the woman that he’s slowly falling for--no, he couldn’t act like that. “What’s that all about?” Don added.

“I’m just…we’re friends, so we’re just hanging out. Nothing more,” he told Don honestly. Although he would like there to be more, he didn’t know how you felt about him or if you even felt anything for him at all.

Don nodded. He could tell that Harry was holding back on something he wanted to say, and he had an idea of what that was. So, he let loose of the intimidating and protective act, knowing that wasn’t really him anyway, and his expression softened as he uncrossed his arms. He placed a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder, taking a deep breath.

“You have this look of wanting to say more and you don’t have to tell me, but I will tell you this…if you want to date her and go out with her, you can. This isn’t approval and a ‘yes’ for you to take her out because I don’t need to do that--she can make her own decisions. All I’m saying is that if you want to, go for it. Life is too fuckin’ short to not do anything, to not say anything.”

Harry’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled in appreciation at Don’s words. “Thanks, Don. I definitely want to take her out, but I just don’t know how she feels about me.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure she feels something for you--she hasn’t told me, but I just know. You’re the first guy in a while that she’s been hanging around with consistently, and that comforts me, in a way. Knowing that she’s living her life and not holding back anymore.” Harry stayed silent, taking his words in. He tried not to overanalyze what Don had said because you’ll tell him and open up to him when you want to, just like how you’re patiently waiting for Harry to open up fully as well. “Just…don’t break her heart, okay? She’s been through enough and I just want her to be happy.”

Harry nodded understandingly, saying a soft ‘okay’ before Don changed the subject and talked about how Harry should train with him one of these days, which Harry immediately said yes to and they planned for the following week to train. Don left him to finish his workout, telling him to have a nice night as you and Harry were going out to dinner.

Benny and Harry finished up their workout, and before they were able to head out the front door, Harry stopped, telling Benny to give him a minute. Harry fast-walked towards you, lugging his bag on his shoulder. You were coming out of your office, which was why Harry couldn’t say goodbye to you after his workout.

“Hey, we’re heading out,” he said, wiping the bit of sweat on the back of his neck with his towel.

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up,” Harry suggested, pursing his lips into his mouth as he contained his smile. You nodded, eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “I’ll, uh, page you,” he slightly smirked.

“Okay,” you mindlessly responded as you were getting quite lost in his green eyes that looked at you intently with a gleam that sat so perfectly against his irises, making his eyes glimmer brightly.

He gave you one last smile and a little wave before walking out of the gym with Benny. You were left stunned as you stood there, completely drifted away from reality as you were in a dream about Harry. You felt a small nudge on your shoulder, causing you to snap out of your thoughts and dream as you turned around to see your father laughing.

“Get back to work.” A smug plastered on his face.

A breathy chuckle was released from your mouth as a hint of embarrassment emerged onto your face with wide eyes. You got back to work, focusing your attention on training your next client, but your mind was racing at the thought of Harry.

As he promised, Harry paged you when he was outside of your apartment complex. He wanted to knock on your door like the proper gentleman that he is, but the buzzer machine to let people in wasn’t working, so paging you would have to do for now. He waited for you outside of his newly washed car, making sure it was nice and clean for you as he leaned against the passenger door.

You walked out of your building, and Harry was immediately blown away. You were wearing a black skirt with stockings that hugged your legs, and a white knitted sweater since it was on the chillier side.

Every time he saw you, his heart would beat incredibly fast, pulse pounding through his veins. His stomach was in flits of butterflies, soaring in his heart and stomach, making him extremely nervous. Every time he saw you, everything would stop, like you were the only person in the world and everything was okay.

“Hey, H,” you flashed him your smile, one that he looked forward to every time he saw you.

“H-Hi,” he stuttered, clearing his throat to start over. “Hi. You look really nice.”

You blushed. “Thank you! You look great as well. Love this top.” You reached forward, lightly tugging at his red-orange knitted long-sleeve. He paired it with blue jeans that flared at the bottom with white sneakers. His fingers were covered in beautiful silver rings, making his hands look quite gorgeous.

“Thank you, shall we?”

“Yeah, oh, I got you something.” You reached into your bag to take out the cased CD, and before Harry was about to protest, you handed it to him. “I made you this mixtape. Just some songs that I think you’ll like—I’m sure you know all of them, but they just made me think of you,” you said shyly.

You weren’t normally shy and you would call yourself a pretty strong and confident person, but you had been so nervous to give this to him—even making the tape left you anxious and shaking.

“Wow, this is…very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much.” Harry looked at the CD with the songs written in your handwriting. There were 10 songs, and Harry knew all of them. They were all…romantic songs.

“That’s not weird, right? Y’know, making you a mixtape?” You asked unsurely. The odd feeling had popped into your mind at the last second as you watched Harry observe the CD, not giving a bad nor good reaction to your gift.

“No, not at all! I really appreciate this. No one has ever made a mixtape for me before, so this is really nice and special. Thank you again.” He reached forward, wrapping one arm around your shoulders as both of your arms found their way around his waist. You somewhat weren’t convinced that he liked it, and he could tell just by how you were looking at him--looking for some more reassurance--that it seemed like he didn’t like it. When he pulled away, he looked at you before saying, “Really, it makes me happy that you took the time to make this for me. It’s so sweet and thoughtful of you, and I already love all the songs on here, so I’m one-hundred-percent going to enjoy this.”

You nodded, smiling softly as he opened the door for you and you thanked him, blushing as you got in. It seemed very much like a date and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of that.

Harry drove to the sandwich shop that waited for you both. It was twenty minutes away on the other side of the town, but Harry had been raving about it so much to you that you told him that you two should go, which Harry was more than happy to take you.

The sound of Boyz II Men filled the speakers of Harry’s car as the two of you sang your hearts out to ‘On Bended Knees,’ putting full emotion and passion into singing. You held up your water bottle, pretending that it was a microphone, and Harry kept shifting his gaze on you, trying to keep his eyes on the road, but also wanting to look at you as you sang. He smiled to himself, absolutely loving how you were so carefree--something that he admired about you.

His heart fluttered, curling his lips into his mouth before he did something that was quite bold of him to do. Reaching over, he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. Your body was frozen, but you continued to sing, covering up the fact that Harry was holding your hand so casually. You were stiff as a board, so you tried loosening up, swaying your body from side to side, slightly averting your eyes towards him as he continued to drive.

The moonlight cast through the car window, giving him a dim glow, accentuating his features; jawline prominent, his lashes shadowed down onto his cheeks, and his eyes were calm; the light reflecting against his glassy green eyes. Your heartbeat a million miles a minute as you looked at him. You had this appreciation and admiration for him--that you were lucky and grateful that you have him and that there was nothing more beautiful than the man sitting beside you.

With your face on fire, you smiled as you carried on, singing with the warmth of Harry’s hand connected with yours.

You were sitting across Harry, munching on your sandwich as you listened to him talk about how he wanted to actually find a job. He’s been sitting around, living quite wealthy as his inheritance sat safely. But he’d been getting bored. Every day was a routine for him and it was a pretty boring routine, he would say. The only places he really went to were the gym and the places that the two of you went together, but that was it. He needed a hobby, something that he could escape to that doesn’t require breaking a sweat from punching bags and mitts.

“You said you like books, so maybe you could see if the bookstore down the street from the gym is hiring. That would be a nice little place to work at,” you suggested.

Harry’s eyes lightened up, apart from thinking that was a great idea and the other part from being surprised that you remembered such a small detail about him when he’d talked about books briefly with you.

“I should definitely do that, thank you. I love that bookstore, it’s-”

“Y/N?” Harry was interrupted by a man who had walked over to your table. Harry looked up, observing the guy as he was looking at you so intently. He quickly looked at you as you were looking up at the man with a shocked expression on your face, wide eyes and mouth slightly opened.

“Uh, hi,” you said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Your eyes glanced at Harry and he had a worried expression on his face, eyes asking if you were okay. You nodded softly, bringing your attention back to him.

“I-I’ve been calling the gym and paging you, but you haven’t been answering any of them…” the man mentioned slyly. You were quite speechless, not expecting him to be here and not knowing what to say.

“I, uh-”

“Can we talk right now?” He asked. You were flickering your eyes between Harry, someone that you were completely infatuated with, and the man that you were completely irritated with. But if you didn’t talk to him right now, he wouldn’t leave you alone and wouldn’t stop calling you, so you made the mistake of saying a soft ‘okay’ as you got up, looking over at Harry, giving a subtle smile.

Just by the way he was looking at you, you knew you had regretted your decision and you wished that you hadn’t given in so easily.

Once you were outside, you crossed your arms, in a way to seem reserved and closed off, but in reality, you really were. The uncomfortableness you felt was something you haven’t felt in a while as it felt like your stomach was boiling as bile salivated your mouth. Your fists were hidden underneath your arms, clenching, and your lips were curled into your mouth to immediately spew inappropriate sayings and vile remarks.

“What do you want to talk about?” You asked, brows pinched together.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for quite a while now, but I just wanted to talk. I hate how we ended things…” he said remorsefully. You tried not to fall for the pouty look he was giving you as if he knew quite well you would fall for it.

“It’s been six months, Max,” you reminded him. You and Max had an ugly breakup, and you had been picking up your own pieces yourself. You two had been together for nearly a year until he started to act differently. Noticing that he was going home late, staying at the bars until the early hours of the morning, and being quite rude and dismissive towards you, it ended in a screaming match where he ended up spitting out rude comments at you--calling you ugly, useless, and boring. It also caused him to confess that he was cheating on you for half the time you were together with him, and you thought that was a lie he made up just to make you angry, but a month after the breakup, you had found out that was true because you had accidentally bumped into the girl he was cheating on you with. At the time, you couldn’t blame him because the girl was absolutely gorgeous and seemed a lot of fun, but now, you know your worth and you absolutely didn’t deserve that whatsoever.

For six months, you hadn’t seen him, but he had been leaving you countless calls to the gym phone. However, Max wouldn’t dare to step foot in the gym ever again because Don had clearly threatened him when he saw Max on the street, pinning him up against the brick wall by his shirt and yelling in his face that if he ever came close to you or the gym ever again, he wouldn’t see the end of the day.

Don would’ve lost his shit if he saw Max in front of you.

“This is pointless. I was fine living my life for the past six months without you. In fact, I haven’t even thought about you until you showed up. Couldn’t you see I was doing just fine? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Your tone was scornful, not wanting to be in front of him anymore but instead the lovely man inside.

“I just assumed you wanted some sort of closure…”

“If I wanted closure, then I would’ve called you. But I don’t need closure. I was doing okay-”

“With who? That man inside the restaurant?” He interrupted, brows raised. His demeanour suddenly changed just because you had given him the slightest bit of attitude. Max went from soft, wanting forgiveness to the Max that you saw last--completely offensive, rude, and a dickhead.

“Yeah, his name is Harry, by the way. I was doing okay until you showed up!” You rolled your eyes, making your way back inside to Harry, who was waiting for you inside.

Of course, Max wasn’t done until he got the last word, so he yelled out, “You know, whatever you’re doing with him, he’s gonna leave you; just like how I left you.” You slowly turned around, heart aching as his words had definitely done something this time. “You think Harry cares about you Y/N? Think again, he’s gonna leave you and you’re gonna be alone. You’re nothing, Y/N--not without me, at least. You aren’t worth anything, and you had to take over your dad’s gym to feel like you are. Stop fooling yourself.”

Your eyes watered, trying your hardest not to let them slip from your eyes. You had already felt weak tearing up in front of him, so you couldn’t imagine what he would think if you bawled your eyes out. Suddenly, you heard the bell above the restaurant door chime. You didn’t bother turning around, but you somehow knew that it was Harry who was behind you.

“Everything alright here?” Harry asked warily, eyes pointed towards you.

“Yeah, man. See you, Y/N.” With that, he walked away, hopefully for good. Harry knew everything wasn’t alright with how you’re ready to burst into tears. As much as he wanted to follow him, force an answer out of him as to why you were in such distress, he was more worried about you.

Standing in front of you, Harry placed an arm on your shoulder, his other hand held the brown paper bag that had both of your leftovers as he didn’t want to eat without you. Your body was tense, not because of Harry’s touch but because of the words that had taken such an effect on you, and you were doing everything to not break down in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Hey, you okay?” Harry asked softly, bending down slightly to look you in the eyes. Your eyes were pointed down at the ground, thinking that if you looked Harry in the eyes, you were going to break.

“Uh, c-can you take me to the gym, please?” You asked once you fully gained the courage to speak, but your voice was shaky.

Harry immediately nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let’s go.” He put his arm around your shoulders and you comfortably nuzzled into his side as he guided you to his car.

The drive back was silent—the complete opposite from the drive to the restaurant. Instead of happiness radiating out of your bodies, the space felt gloomy. Harry’s mind had spiraled as he drove, thinking about what that man could have possibly said to you. He was torn between wanting to be angry, but he was more concerned for you because you had never been this silent before.

Once Harry was in front of the gym, you immediately got out before he was able to turn off the car. Using your keys, you unlocked the front door, turning off the alarm system before throwing your purse, not caring where it landed and rushed towards the heavy bags.

This was where you let all your anger out. The place where you screamed at the top of your lungs with no care on who might hear you. This was your safe space, and if someone was going to judge you for utilizing your safe space, then they didn’t belong there.

You screamed, punched, and kicked the heavy bag with full force as your tears had streamed down your face. Your heart was beating painfully with every scream you forced out of your body. Your punches were solid, making the bag swing back and forth, but your knuckles were starting to redden because you didn’t wrap your hands.

Harry quickly followed you, a frown plastered on his face as he watched you let your anger out all on the heavy bag. He let you do your thing, watching from the sidelines before he waited for the right moment to cut in.

“You. Fucking. Stupid. Piece. Of. Shit,” you yelled out with every punch. You sniffled, continuing to punch the bag, eyes glossy from your endless amount of tears.

The friction from the leather and your bare skin was rubbing against each other, cutting and peeling open your skin. Your hands had numbed the pain, so you carried on with your punches until Harry had wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and away from the heavy bag once he started to see redness and blood scattered onto your knuckles. You screamed, your body protesting, wanting to continue punching, but you knew you didn’t have any more energy.

Turning around in his arms, your face was met with his chest, sobbing into his shirt. Harry’s hands soothed your back, comforting you as his heart ached from the sadness you radiated. Your bloody hands clutched his shirt as you cried, tears staining his shirt. Your whines and whimpers filled the empty gym, echoing back at you.

Everything hurt—your heart, eyes, body, and your hands were now starting to sting. Harry held you tighter, carefully taking a seat onto the ground and bringing you down with him. You sat in between his legs and your head rested on his shoulder.

After a moment, he felt you calm down and your body physically relaxed. Mindlessly, his hand brushed your hair back from your forehead, pressing a kiss to your skin. Harry hadn’t realized he did that until he pulled away and he hoped he hadn’t crossed a line by doing that. But when he kissed your forehead, you pulled him closer, burying your face into his neck.

“Talk to me—tell me what you need, angel,” he said softly, wanting to help and be there for you. The nickname had completely slipped out as he’d been calling you that in his head. He’d never seen you break down at all, so this was very new to him.

You shook your head, nickname going over your head. “Nothing. Just you.”

Harry nodded his head, heart fluttering at your words as he held you tighter. He continued to soothe your hair and back as he heard you sigh deeply at the comfort. Looking down at your hands, he realized they were still bloody and cut up, and he knew that your cuts needed to be treated as soon as possible.

“Can I take care of your hands? I’m still gonna be close, just wanna bandage you up.” You sniffled, nodding your head. Harry slightly smiled, carefully getting up before helping you up. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, first asking you where the first aid kit was, and you two walked to one of the offices to get the kit before going to the restroom. “Wanna sit?” He asked, patting the cold counter. Nodding your head, you placed your hands on the counter, but he quickly stopped you, taking off his jacket for you to sit on.

“Thank you,” you softly said to him gratefully before jumping to sit on the counter.

Harry opened the box that contained multiple and different types of bandages, an instant cold pack, thermometer, antiseptic wipes, and scissors. Harry washed his hands well before grabbing the antiseptic wipe and ripping it open. He situated himself between your legs, gently grabbing your hand to rest on his. He looked up at you, first asking you if it was okay to start, and when you said yes, he slowly and carefully started to wipe the area around the cut.

You watched him as he cleaned your cuts; he was so focused on wiping the blood that stained your skin and was careful not to press too hard because you were starting to bruise already. As you watched him, you felt immensely grateful. It’d been a while since you had a true friend that would help you with anything and take care of you. Your feelings for him had skyrocketed, heart pounding so loud you could feel it in your ears.

“The guy at the restaurant was my ex-boyfriend, Max,” you suddenly said. Harry looked up at you to let you know that he was listening as he continued to clean your hands. “It was a bit of a messy breakup; he called me names, insulted me, and confessed that he was cheating on me. When I saw him at the restaurant, that was the first time since the breakup, and it was like I relived that day again.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Harry asked, holding back his anger because he knew the answer, Harry watched through the window the entire time and noticed your posture and demeanor change, causing Harry to quickly pay and rush outside just in case anything happened.

“Y-Yeah.” Your voice croaked. “Said I didn’t amount to anything—that I wasn’t anything without him-”

“That’s bullshit, Y/N-”

“I’m so mad at myself.” Tears were forming in your eyes again as you looked down at your lap. Redness brimmed your eyelids as you sniffled.

“What? Why?” Harry asked confusingly.

You shook your head at yourself. “For years, I’ve been training—learning how to defend myself for when I need it. I was raised to have a strong mindset, to not take shit from anyone because Don told me not to. But when he came around, I didn't say a word, let alone move a muscle. I hate how he made me weak. I hate how I didn’t stand up for myself.” Your voice was shaky and your tears streamed down your face as you paused for a moment. “He told me that you were gonna leave me just like everyone else in my life did,” you added.

Harry was seething, breathing in through his nose as his face hardened. He masked his anger because his priority was to comfort you, so he tried to let go of his anger for a moment.

“Listen to me.” He placed his hands on the outside of your legs, bending down to look you in the eyes. Your glossy eyes looked at him, a small pout on your face. “You’re the strongest person I know, alright, angel?” This time, you heard the pet name loud and clear, making your heart do backflips. “You didn’t let him walk all over you, no, you’re much more mature than him to ever start something. He wanted to see you angry, and frustrated. He wanted to add fuel to the fire, and you didn’t give him the satisfaction. You aren’t weak at all. You’ve got a strong heart, and I’m sure that punch of yours to his nose would damage it for good.”

You breathed out a chuckle at his last statement, nodding, knowing he was right. Harry smiled, dimples showing proudly as he wiped the tears that were falling from your eyes. Giving him a half-smile, you leaned forward, pressing your face against his collarbones. He stood up straight to wrap his arms around your back. You daringly placed a kiss onto the exposed skin that was peeking out from his shirt. Harry’s face warmed up at the touch that was so soft and delicate, yet felt like it was burning through his skin. You pulled away, looking up at him as you thanked him.

Your eyes darted between his eyes and his lips as your face was just inches away from him. His face was delicate and his beauty shined over the darkness of the world. It was as if he didn’t seem real like you couldn’t believe someone so beautiful and breathtaking was standing right in front of you. You studied every curve, movement, and freckle on his face as they all very well defined him, heightening your admiration with every look of his perfections and imperfections.

Harry blushed under your stare, clearing his throat as he felt nervous. He pulled his face away a tad bit, offering you a small smile. “Of course. Always gonna be here for you. Now, let me just finish cleaning your hands before taking you home.”

You nodded, letting him finish with his task. His hands were gentle as he wrapped the bandage around your hand. Your heart was filled with so much admiration and gratitude that you simply wouldn’t know what to do if Harry weren’t there today. The growing feelings had taken over your heart and mind that you were a bit scared, but nonetheless, you let them take over.

Harry sat at the bar next to Benny, nursing a beer he had ordered ten minutes ago. It had been a while since they hung out together, but that was because Benny was trying to get his wife pregnant, so when Marianne calls, they spent their time baby-making. The other reason was that Harry was spending most of his time with you, which he loved every minute of.

“So, a little bird told me that you’ve been going to the gym on Saturdays now,” Benny mentioned, a hint of tease in his tone.

Harry chuckled. “Really? And who told you that?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“Starts with a D and ends with an N,” Benny laughed, giving you the obvious answer.

“Well, I’ve been going in on Saturdays because Don always schedules our training sessions on Saturdays. Nothing else,” he slightly lied. After his first training day with Don, Harry told Don that he wanted to continue training with him because he gets a good workout with him rather than by himself, hitting the heavy bag or speed bag, so Don always scheduled for Saturdays since those were the easiest days.

But other than the training sessions, he also got to see you on Saturdays, which he really enjoyed because sometimes after his workout, you two would grab a bite to eat or plan to hang out later that day. He liked it, he liked you.

“Hmm, interesting. It doesn’t have to do with a particular trainer who also happens to own the gym?” Benny raised his brows.

“Not really into Don, to be honest,” Harry joked, bouncing around Benny’s question. They both laughed, slamming their hand on the bar top.

“Really, though. I’m happy for you. You’ve been in such a happier mood, and that’s all I want—is for you to be happy. She’s doing a great job,” Benny said honestly. Seeing his friend happy after everything he’s been through had lifted a certain weight off of his shoulders, and it seemed like he didn’t need to worry about Harry.

Harry simply nodded, smiling as words weren’t necessary. He always felt like Benny was always concerned about him, and although he appreciated him being worried, he didn’t need to anymore because Harry was finally feeling much happier than he was before.

“There you are.” A voice was suddenly heard next to Harry along with a hand on his shoulder. Harry tensed up, and he hadn’t in a while, but he knew that wasn’t your voice nor was it your touch. Harry turned his head to the side to find Lizette sitting on the stool next to him, giving him a smug smile. He didn’t say anything but look at Benny, and saw his eyes narrow, confused as to why Lizette was here. “I’ve been calling your home and paging you. Why haven’t you been answering me?” She pouted.

Harry knew that pout all too well. She used it to trick you into saying yes to her and getting what she wanted, but Harry was stronger than that now; he knew how to hold his ground.

He hadn’t seen Lizette ever since the week before he joined Don’s Box. With all of his time spent with you, he hadn’t really thought about Lizette, if he’s being honest. You had fully taken every inch and space of his mind that it was maximum capacity, but he still found a way to make space from the invading thoughts of you.

“Just been…busy, Lizette, that’s all,” he said, not giving her his full attention as he looked at his bottle.

“Too busy for me?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He didn’t want to outright be rude to her because naturally, Harry was a kind and thoughtful man, so he kept his harsh thoughts to himself.

She inched closer to Harry, close enough to where her mouth was against his ear as she whispered, “Well, since I so happened to run into you, how about we go back to yours?”

Harry took a deep breath. He felt like he was his old self again—making impulsive and not so thought out decisions that end up fucking him and his emotions over in the future. Being with Lizette was something, and it helped make him feel a little less lonely, even though she immediately left right after she got what she wanted.

But Harry hadn’t felt lonely at the moment and in months. He had his best friend next to him, having a drink, and he had you. He wasn’t lonely at all. So, why was he getting off the stool and putting his coat on before closing his tab for the night?

Benny’s eyes widened, looking at Harry as if he was asking what the actual fuck was he doing. Harry simply shrugged, patting his friend on the back before following Lizette out of the bar. The air was cold, but it wasn’t a delightful cold that he wanted to be in. It almost seemed kind of eerie as the gray clouds hovered over them.

Lizette hugged Harry’s arm. “I’m glad you agreed.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek, but he immediately pulled away, taking his arm out of her hold.

“You should go home,” he told her. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out as she was confused. “Get a ride home. I’m not taking you home nor am I going with you. I don’t want to do this anymore, Lizette.”

“But you came with me-”

“That didn’t mean I was saying yes to your offer. I came out here with you to get you off of me and not embarrass me in front of my friend and the entire bar.” Harry’s voice was stern as he crossed his arms. “I know you’ve never really cared about me, so please just do me a favor and leave. I’m happier now-”

“You’re happier? With some other girl, huh?” Harry nodded and Lizette rolled her eyes, expression annoyed as she was beginning to get angry and defensive. “You think she cares? Guess what, Harry, she doesn’t. She’s gonna leave you just like your mom left you, your ex-girlfriend left you. Remember when she fucked your best friend in college? That she left you to be with him? And look at them now, they’re married! They don’t give a single fuck about you! What makes you think that this girl you’re seeing does?”

Lizette had definitely hit a nerve. Harry had gone four years without hearing the story on how his ex left him for one of his friends from uni. The situation was quite sad, and it left Harry in pieces. Not to mention, Lizette was his ex’s best friend and she somehow seduced him into regularly having sex with her, which wasn’t entirely her fault because Harry was lonely and needed to feel something to fill the void of his loneliness.

“Don’t think you’re so easy to love, Harry. It takes a lot of effort to do that, especially with you. You’re gonna continue being scared and closed off, and people are gonna continue to run away-”

“Harry?” Lizette was suddenly interrupted by you. You were walking to the bar because Benny had invited you, thinking that it would’ve been a nice surprise for Harry and to hang out with just the three of you. But you had seen Harry and some woman on the street and his face looked angry. “Uh, hi.”

You turned towards the unknown woman as she looked you up and down before turning towards Harry, raising her brows as she figured out who you were and who Harry had been spending so much time with.

Harry completely blocked you out, his attention was towards the statements Lizette had made. He had been doing so much better, and all of a sudden the relapse hit him ten times harder, like his accomplishment of being okay with himself completely disappeared.

Was he that hard to love? He knew that he pushed people away, that’s for sure, but he didn’t realize that it was difficult to love him. Harry then thought about the people that had left him because they didn’t love him enough to stay. His ex left him for his friend, it seemed like his mum had forgotten about him, and soon enough, Benny was gonna get tired of him and so were you.

“And you are?” You asked, scowling at the woman in front of you. Lizette smirked, seeing as there was an opportunity right in front of her. She didn’t find you

intimidating whatsoever.

“Oh, guess Harry didn’t tell you, but we’ve been sleeping with each other for years. Friends with benefits, if you will,” Lizette answered with some sass and a snarl to her tone as she watched your expression turn into a hurtful one.

Your face had softened as your eyes welled up with tears, but you didn’t dare let them fall. You looked at Harry and it seemed like he was in his head, but you had no clue he was ‘seeing someone.’ It felt like you had been cheated on, even though going out as friends didn’t mean anything to a fuck buddy. All of the moments you spent with him—the laughs, storytelling, training, and tension-filled moments had connected you both to one another. It made you feel special that you were seeing a side of Harry that no one else had, but you were wrong.

“Guess you’re the new girl he’s seeing?”

“What’s it to you?” Your brows knitted.

Lizette shrugged. “Nothing. Just know that Harry’s difficult and loveless. So, just get out while you can.” She reached over to touch your shoulder, but you quickly stepped back before she could. She was talking as if Harry wasn’t right next to you two, and if this was a ‘women looking out for women’ type of situation, you weren’t going to accept it because she outright just insulted Harry.

You were livid as your eyes turned dark, stepping closer to her. “Stay away from him, or I swear to god-”

“Or what? What are you gonna do?” Lizette challenged, stepping closer. She was slightly taller than you since she wore four-inch leather boots.

“Wanna find out? Next time I see you with him or hear you talk shit about him again, then you’ll find out because I can guarantee you’ll never see the light of day.” You held eye contact with her as she looked at you with such fierce emotion.

“Cute. Harry’s got a little bodyguard,” she scoffed, stepping back. “I should go,” Lizette suddenly said, breaking you out of your heartbreaking thoughts. “I’ll call you,” she told Harry, despite what you had just said. It seemed like he wasn’t even listening as his blank stare was trained onto the ground. She walked away, her heels clicking against the cement. The satisfaction she felt right now felt good, knowing her words had definitely affected you both.

When Lizette was far enough, you turned back towards Harry. This time, he was looking at you in a confused state, and it didn’t seem like him.

“I-I didn’t know you were seeing someone-”

“You should go…” he said straightforwardly. You raised your brows as you were taken back.

“I’m sorry?”

“You should leave. For good. Get out of my life while you can. I promise I won’t get mad.” His voice cracked and was shaky. He couldn’t even look you in the eye while he was talking because he knew that would break his heart even more, especially if you were to actually leave for good. The negative thoughts had taken over, and this was what he did—pushing people away and giving them a way out before they realized that Harry wasn’t a lovable or worthy enough person to stay around for.

“What makes you think I’m going anywhere?” You questioned confusingly. You wondered if he even thought about the conversation you two had a few moments ago when you had told him that you were staying for good.

“They all do, anyway. They all leave and they never come back.” His voice was starting to raise slightly, frustration and anger pouring out of his veins as his eyes were starting to tear up. A pout remained on your face as you watched the distress never leave his angelic face. “Just please go.”

“I’m not going anywhere-”

“Why won’t you-”

“Because I care! Why don’t you get that?” You raised your voice, not too loud to startle him, but enough to convey your emotions and frustrations to him.

“Because you’re going to eventually! You’re gonna leave and use me and never love me. I’m used to it, so you could go now!” Harry was starting to cry, light sobs were coming out of his mouth as he was trying to hold them back. You took a step forward, wanting to comfort him as your heart broke at the sight, but he stepped back, not wanting your touch.

Your heart sank when he stepped back away from you because he had never done that before. You two were always comfortable with one another that both of your touches had felt like security. Your tears had streamed down your face, quickly wiping them.

“Harry, I’m not gonna leave…”

“It’s fine. You don’t know what it’s like for someone to leave and never come back. You don’t know what it’s like to feel completely loveless that someone physically had to get out of your life and not want to be in it anymore. You don’t know what it’s like!” He spoke firmly as he cried, tugging his curly locks in frustration.

“I don’t know what it’s like?” You spoke loudly, and Harry looked up at you. “I know exactly what it’s like because my own mother left me when I was eleven-years-old, and I have no idea why!” You vented, sniffling. “You don’t think I know what it’s like to constantly wonder what you’re doing wrong because the people that were supposed to be there for you completely vanished? Because I do! I know that feeling quite well. So, don’t tell me I don’t know shit because it seems like we’re in the same boat.”

Harry was speechless. Sure, you two had been close and had talked about your lives and childhood, but this was something that you two had to dig deep for because it wasn’t something you regularly spoke about nor did you tell new people that you’d just met.

“I-I’m sorry I had no idea…”

“You couldn’t have had any idea, Harry. But just know that that day my mom left me still confuses me. The look on my dad’s face when he told me that mom left still haunts me. The crying I did since I was eleven hurts me because she didn’t love me enough to stay.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine, I get it. I know we’ve known each other for only a few months, but I did not expect this from you, especially because of all that we’d talked about. I’d say I’m the newest person in your life but I’m also the closest, besides Benny. So, don’t shut me out.” Your heart was beating through your chest and all of your emotions began to pile up like they were leaves, falling from the branches of the trees.

Harry looked defeated, knowing that you were right. He sniffled, not knowing what else to say because all he felt was a painful feeling in his chest since Lizette had gone up to him at the bar.

When he didn’t say anything, you just nodded, knowing that it was best to give him some space so he could realize that you were here for him and that you weren’t going anywhere.

“Call me when you wanna talk…” you told him before turning around. Harry watched you—he knew that he should go after you, not be scared and let you in, perhaps tell you that he’s practically in love with you, but he doesn’t move, feet glued to the ground.

When you were only a few feet away, you turned back around, knowing that you hadn’t gotten your final words out yet. Harry looked up when he heard footsteps approaching him.

“Fuck whatever people say to you; trying to degrade and bring you down because whatever they say, it’s not true. I will always be there to defend you, Harry. Don’t think I won’t be because I will always be on your side.” You paused for a moment. Your heart was fully opening and was beginning to be vulnerable. Trying not to let it overwhelm you, you continued. “Don’t think you’re not easy to love because you are. You’re extremely easy to love, y’know that? I would know because…I love you. And that’s crazy to say because we’ve only known each other for a short period of time, but I can’t help what I feel. So, there you go.”

Before Harry was able to say anything, you walked away, and he could hear you sniffling and crying. Harry’s mouth was ajar, completely speechless and shocked, but his heart fluttered as he took in your words. You really loved him, he thought. No one had said those words and really meant them or they hadn’t felt real to him when he heard them, so the shock that he felt was new.

You were far enough where Harry couldn’t see you. He hadn’t even moved an inch, and he knew that later on, he was going to be very disappointed in himself for not chasing you down and telling you that he loved you too. But for now, he needed to take it all in and hope that when he did tell you, it wouldn’t be too late.

Taking a deep breath, you walked inside to your apartment, sniffling as you went straight to the bathroom to take a long and hot shower. Before you left your place to go to the bar, you had been contemplating your appearance because you wanted to look good. Nerves were all over your body as you were getting ready, and you sulked at how the events had completely turned tonight around.

When you were out of the shower and changed, ready to get into bed despite the night only being nine in the evening, your pager beeped. Picking it up off the bedside table, the message was sent from Harry, reading ‘143.’ You raised your brows, reading it again and reading it once more. Your heart was pounding, studying the numbers to make sure you read them right. The simple code for ‘I love you’ was printed on your pager and you wanted to scream.

Before you could actually scream, there was a knock on your door. You walked quickly, opening it as Harry was standing behind it, holding his pager out as he smiled softly at you. You had just finished crying in the shower, so your eyes were red and a tad bit swollen, but you were close to crying again because of how overwhelmed you felt.

“Did you mean it?” You asked hesitantly, holding your pager up.

“Of course I do. Did you mean it?” He retaliated back, wondering if you meant your three words as well.

“Of course I mean it, Harry. Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, wiping the tear that had slipped down your face.

“Because I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much that it hurts,” he claimed in one breath, feeling the tension and weight that he held in his shoulders release. “You’re everything to me, and you make my world less frightening. I just see your pretty smile and my day completely turns into a great one. I don’t wanna waste a day not telling you that now, and it feels pretty damn good to say it.”

You slightly nodded until you remembered one of your concerns earlier. “What about Lizette?”

“Lizette was someone I used to sleep with. I haven’t seen her nor slept with her in months—before I even met you, I promise. And I’m sorry for assuming that you didn’t know what it felt like for someone to leave and that you had to tell me under those circumstances. But just know, that I’m not gonna leave, unless you tell me to, that is.” Every bit of him was opening up and he wasn’t hiding away. He was being completely vulnerable and it had scared him a bit, but when his words came out, he felt himself get better.

You looked at him through your glassy eyes, vision blurred for a moment until you adjusted them and clearly saw the gorgeous man in front of you. His eyes were filled with tears as well, and you thought, how could someone still look so pretty while they cried? But that was Harry for you; someone who was genuinely beautiful no matter what. Someone who had a heart of gold and a flashing smile that made your heart swoon and knees weak.

You simply reached your hand out and Harry walked towards you, into your apartment as he came close to your face as your bodies were pressed up against one another. The back of his fingertips gently brushed the side of your face, admiring the beauty that stood before him as he opened his heart up completely, not wanting to go another day without saying those three words back to you.

The corners of your lips turned up and your tears were replaced by happy ones. You had walked away from Harry after you said I love you because he was looking at you like he had seen a ghost, not a friendly one, but more of a scary one. So, hearing those words were just music to your ears.

“You mean that? That you love me?” You wanted to hear it again and again and again.

“Ever word. I love you, angel,” he repeated, adding your nickname. He pressed his forehead against yours, inches away from your lips.

“Never stop calling me that,” you instructed him, smiling. The first time he had said it, you came to the conclusion that you absolutely loved hearing that name come out of his mouth, especially if it was specifically for you.

“Only if you never stop telling me that you love me,” he slightly smirked, dimples poking out. He was so immensely happy that his heart could burst just because of the love that he felt for you.

You giggled. “I love you, baby-”

“I, uh, wait. Do you mind…not calling me that?” He hesitated, and you raised your brows confused. “Someone else called me that, and I just don’t like hearing it. Never have since it came out of her mouth,” he explained shyly.

A sudden realization came to your face as you realized that Lizette probably called him that. “Okay. I won’t call you that, ever…darling.” Harry’s lips began to slowly turn up, already liking that name so much better than the other one. He hugged you; and you smiled, closing and opening your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Your arms snaked around Harry’s waist as he cradled your delicate face in his hands.

“Never stop calling me that,” he repeated your words as you two smiled and laughed until your jaws started hurting.

His eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes. You pursed your lips, blushing as you watched his eyes glance back up and down. You rubbed the tip of your nose against his, pulling him closer; hearts beating in sync as butterflies filled your stomach.

He brushed his lips against yours before fully connecting them, feeling every spark and shiver that traveled down his spine. You smiled into the kiss as the softness of his lips moved and molded against yours, feeling completely in bliss. The way his lips slotted perfectly with yours made you saturated and dizzy off of his love and touch. Butterflies were still in your stomach, but they were calm like they had been fluttering around for this moment, his touch, in order to relax.

Pulling back, he smiled down at you, eyes love-struck, before giving you another kiss, and pulling away and kissing you again once more.

“Kissing you is my new favorite thing,” he stated, drunk off kisses. You breathed out a giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you breathed in his scent. You felt his breath against your neck, feeling completely happy and content in each other’s arms.

There was no fear in the air; just the two of you with open hearts and arms, welcoming in the new and profound feeling that you both took in, knowing that it’s going to change everything for the better.

You pulled him inside and Harry kicked the door closed with his foot. His arms were holding you tight as you walked back to your bedroom. Opening your mouth slightly, Harry took the chance to meet your tongue with his, swiveling and tasting each other causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You pulled back when Harry laid down on the bed, taking in the gushy feeling you had as you smiled.

“Want you,” you simply stated.

“You have me, angel.”

“I know, but I want you. Need you,” your eyes pleaded for his touch, to feel him inside of you, for him to make you feel good. You desperately craved for his hands on all of you, his mouth kissing every inch of your skin, and his love passionately pouring out of his veins.

Harry nodded, smiling. “Need you too. Need you forever,” he said, connecting your lips again as he hovered over you.

You two kissed for a while, giggling against each other’s lips and having his weight on top of you as your hands roamed his back. You bucked your hips into his, feeling the hard-on that was growing in his pants, which made Harry grind into your center, moaning softly into your mouth.

“Please do something,” you said, and he nodded, getting off of you before taking his jacket and shirt off swiftly. His tattoos were showcased in front of you and all you wanted to do was kiss every single one of them. “You’re beautiful, Harry,” you complimented, and he blushed, a soft ‘thank you’ came out of his mouth. Next was his pants, and before he was able to take his briefs off, you stopped him, telling him that you wanted to do it.

You got off the bed, switching positions with him as you were now standing up as Harry laid down on the bed. You smiled, eyes glancing all around his body. He suddenly felt shy and intimidated under your stare, but he knew he had no reason to be because you were simply admiring him. This time around when it came to physically be vulnerable with someone, he knew he didn’t have to worry anymore when it came to you.

You took off your lilac nightgown, exposing your body to Harry’s eyes. Your nipples had hardened due to the exposure to the cold. His eyes glimmered as he gazed at your stunning and beautiful body. Every curve and inch was something he tried to remember, and he was quite speechless at the sight. He reached out, gently grabbing your hips as he roamed his hands up your body and to your breasts, grabbing both in each of his hands.

He looked up at you and you smiled down at him as he placed his mouth on your left pebbled nipple, sucking and licking it as his hand fondled with the other. You laced your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp as he did so, switching over to your right nipple.

Harry pulled away, looking at you. “You’re an actual angel. You’re so beautiful.”

“Harry…” you blushed.

“You are, angel. So beautiful. Can’t believe I get to see you like this.” He kissed the valley of your breasts and down your stomach before getting up and pushing you down onto the bed with ease. He settled in between your legs, arms hooked under your thighs.

Continuing kissing down your stomach, he reached the hem of your underwear, looking up at you before asking, “Can I take these off? Wanna make you feel good—the same way you always make me feel good.”

“Please. Take them off. Wanna feel your mouth on me,” you pleaded as your arousal heightened. You wrapped your legs around his back, eagerly pulling his head towards your center, making Harry let out a chuckle.

“Easy, angel. Not going anywhere.” Harry kissed your stomach once more before pulling off your beige underwear. You were glistening below him; you made a complete mess in your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet. This all for me?”

“Mhm. All for you, Harry, please,” you whispered impatiently. Harry’s dirty talk had only increased your need for him as it was quite surprising to see this side of him since he was more on the shy and reserved side outside, but nonetheless, you loved both sides—you loved him.

Harry leaned down, pressing multiple kisses to your inner thighs, nibbling on the skin gently. You bucked your hips as he trailed his kisses towards your pussy that was eagerly waiting to be touched and licked. When he got there, he pressed a kiss to your clit before kitten-licking your sensitive button, making you softly moan.

His tongue licked into the entrance of your pussy, gathering your arousal on the tip of his tongue to lubricate your clit even more.

“Fuck,” you groaned as your hands found his curly locks, tugging at them gently.

“You could do that harder, I don’t mind it,” Harry told you before going back to eating you out. You pulled harder and Harry deeply groaned against you, sending vibrations up your body.

His hands wandered around your body, feeling the softness of your skin against his hands. Your skin had formed goosebumps due to his touch, and Harry smoothed out your skin so you were warm. He sucked on your clit quite harshly, earning a moan of his name from your lips as he grabbed both of your tits in his hands, squeezing them.

You placed your hands on top of his, squeezing them with him, and Harry almost came at the sight of that. There you were, moaning his name out, getting your pussy eaten, and squeezing your tits on top of his hands. A sight he truly was lucky enough to see.

Harry pulled one hand away to rub your clit as he tongued around your wet hole before tongue fucking you. He rubbed your clit at a moderate speed, enough for you to thrust your hips off the bed. Harry pulled his other hand that was still on one of your breasts away to pin your hips down onto the bed.

“Stay still for me, angel,” he instructed, voice deep that made you even wetter. “You taste so good. Could eat you out all day.”

“Harry…” you trailed, whining desperately for your release. “W-Wanna…cum…need to.” Your sentences were broken and Harry thought that was a good sign, knowing that he was doing so well you couldn’t form a proper sentence.

“Tell me what you need. Let me know, so I can get you there.”

“F-Fingers,” you told him, and he immediately brought his fingers to your clit, rubbing it before inserting two fingers inside your pussy. He thrust slowly, curling his fingers up to feel your walls.

He felt you pulsing around him as your legs were wrapped tightly around his back as you screamed his name over and over again.

“C’mon, love. Give me one,” he encouraged, thrusting his fingers a bit faster.

Once he hit the spot over and over again, you saw stars. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, and you felt dizzy. The pleasure that ran through your body was overwhelming in the best way possible and you choked out a few sobs. It had hit you like a brick that you saw coming, but you were still surprised and shocked by the impact.

Your hands held Harry’s hair tight that he thought for a moment that you might actually rip it off. Harry rubbed your pussy as you came down from your high, licking your orgasm that was seeping through your cunt, taking every drop of it. He looked up to see your head thrown back, chest heaving, and a vein that was bulging against your skin. He kissed your thighs while his other hand trailed across your body.

When you finally were able to catch your breath, Harry kissed up your body, leaving the softest and loving kisses to your skin as you were quite sensitive. You grabbed his face, bringing his lips to yours as you immediately stuck your tongue in his mouth, swirling it with his to taste yourself on him—a mixture of his taste and your orgasm all on his tongue had made you wetter.

Harry was grinding himself against your leg, trying to relieve some pressure.

“Want you,” you told him once he pulled away, looking at him intently.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. Please? Only if you want to-”

“I definitely want to. Just wanna make sure you were sure,” he breathed out a chuckle.

“Course I want to.” There was a bit of silence between you two as you were simply just admiring him as he hovered over you. “Are you gonna fuck me, Harry?” You broke the silence, and Harry broke out of his trance, shyly giggling before getting off the bed.

He peeled away his briefs, cock standing straight up from the slight painful restraint. He was big—girth and length wise, and you felt your mouth salivating from just looking at him. He got back on the bed, in between your legs as he sat on his knees. Spitting on his hand, he grabbed a hold of his dick, stroking it to relieve the pressure. The view was beautiful in every single way possible, and you didn’t dare to bat an eye because you didn’t want to miss one second of it.

Wanting to take over for him, you reached forward, replacing his hand with yours as you slowly stroked his cock for him. Harry had a smug smile on his face but soon changed into a face of pure pleasure as your hand worked against him. His mouth was open as he let out a soft moan, looking down at your eyes as you were looking up, completely loving his reaction to your touch.

“You’re so pretty, Harry,” you complimented as you continued to touch him. Your other hand reached forward to fondle with his balls, rolling them into your hand as Harry whimpered. “Love seeing you like this. Most gorgeous man I’ve seen in my life.”

“Please, angel, you’re being too nice…” he managed to groan out, hands gripping your thighs.

“But it’s true. Look so pretty when you’re like this, but also when you’re hitting the heavy bags. When we go out to eat and you mindlessly drink your entire drink while waiting for the food. But I think you’ll look extra pretty than you already are if you cum.” Your words of declaration were getting him on the edge as you stroke him. The way your voice slightly changed as you looked up at him with the most innocent eyes made him thrust into your hand, gripping the flesh of your skin as he threw his head back.

“You think so?”

“Mhm. Gonna be so pretty when you cum all over my body, my tits. Can you do that? For me, can you do that? Please?” You were completely begging for it, but even with all the begging, he knew that you had all the control right now.

Your feet rubbed his calves up and down, and it was the simplest touch, but it heightened Harry’s need to let go.

“Wanna cum for you, yeah.” His breaths were heavy and harsh as your touch was focused on his tip, wrapping your delicate hands around the head where he was most sensitive.

Harry’s moans stuttered as a series of profanities slipped from his lips, spilling onto your stomach and breasts. You smiled to yourself as you studied his face when he came undone; his mouth was open, occasionally biting his lip, and eyes shut closed as his head was thrown back—he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, and the fact that you got to see him like this was an honor.

When he came down from his high, he slowly opened his eyes, meeting yours, staring right at him. You smirked, body covered in his orgasm, and he thought that was a picture worth taking. You were gorgeous covered in his pleasure that you caused, and you seemed to love it too since you made no effort to wipe it off.

Boldly, he leaned down, dragging his tongue from your stomach to your tit, spending the most time on your breasts as he nibbled and licked your nipples, collecting his orgasm from your skin and held it on the tip of his tongue until he reached your mouth. You willingly opened your mouth as his tongue delved right in, feeding you his cum.

You two passionately kissed, tasting him ever so sensually. You moaned into his mouth, thinking about how the sight of Harry licking his orgasm off of your body was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. With your hips jerking up, you felt yourself getting wet again and in need to release once more.

You whimpered, pulling away. “Please. Need you so bad.” Harry nodded, agreeing.

“Condom?” He asked, and you immediately reached over to your bedside table, ripping open the condom before rolling it onto his dick that was still hard.

Harry curled in his lips, watching you. You gave him a few extra strokes for good measure, earning a soft moan from his mouth. He took his length in his hand, running the tip up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and lubricating his cock. He gave you one last look and you nodded before he slowly pushed in, indulging in your wetness and softness.

A moan came out of both of your mouths, feeling completely full and warm for one another with the stretch Harry had on you. He planted his elbows on both sides of you, holding himself up over you as he slowly began to thrust.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feel so good for me.” He placed a kiss on your lips as he whispered. He found a rhythm as he started to move faster, rocking his hips against yours, making you moan.

It was a feeling like no other, and it was the amount of love you two had for one another that made this experience much more special. Love was practically oozing out of both of your veins, filling the room to its maximum capacity as the both of you moaned out in pleasure.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms looped around his back, hugging him closer to you as if he couldn’t get closer. You whined into his ear, the sounds of your pleasure were music to his eyes, sending a shiver down his body, making him jerk. But that jolt had hit your g-spot, and you screamed out in ecstasy.

“Right there. Keep doing that. Keep fucking me,” you managed to say. Harry maintained his pace, going deeper, and fucking you into oblivion as you kept crying and screaming his name out.

Harry’s lips attached to your neck, nibbling and licking your skin, leaving a few decent size love bites that he was sure to admire when they’d fully formed. Your nails had raked down his back, leaving a burning but pleasurable sting down his skin, letting him know that he was doing an amazing job.

“You like that?” He groaned into your ear, leaving chills rising onto your skin.

“Mhm. Just like that. Don’t stop. I-I’m so close.” You threw your head back into the pillows, and Harry took the opportunity to attack your exposed neck with kisses again. Your hands found Harry’s hair, tugging at his curls as he kissed you. That encouraged him to fuck you harder and faster, repeatedly hitting your special spot. “O-Oh…”

“Come on, angel love. Cum for me, please. Wanna see you make a mess around me,” he encouraged you.

With a few more thrusts, you were done. You had fully and completely released around him as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, head dizzy, and your breaths were caught in your throat as your hips involuntarily jolted, meeting his thrusts that were fucking you through your high.

Harry started to thrust sloppily, burying his face in your neck as he spilled into the condom. His hot breath was against your skin as he started to slow down, coming down from his orgasm.

The room was silent as the only sounds present were the heavy breaths and the post-orgasmic whimpers coming from your mouth as you two held one another. Your nails gently scratched down his back, contrasting to the desperate and needy scratches that you had given him just a few minutes ago.

Harry lifted his head up, meeting your eyes before connecting his lips against yours, tongue meeting first before your lips moved in sync so passionately and lovingly that you both unspokenly agreed to never taste another pair of lips again.

“I love you so much,” Harry said, resting his chin on your chest.

You smiled down at him, eyes gleaming as you looked at your love, your entire heart, the man that had stolen your breath and heart just by one look.

“And I love you too.”

Waking up to the warmth of the body next to you was your favorite thing in the morning—had been for six months now. The sight next to you was something you wouldn’t get used to as you always found yourself feeling so lucky every single time you woke up next to him.

But a pout formed onto your face when you saw that the space next to you was empty. The crinkled yellow sheets were left, missing a certain person that you had been excited to see this morning since you closed your eyes the night prior.

Turning over to your bedside table, you grabbed your pager, seeing if you had any messages, and one specifically stood out to you, making you sleepily smile at your pager.

“Goodmorning, angel,” Harry greeted as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom. He was wearing a gray sweatsuit, holding a white paper bag in one hand and a smoothie tray, that held two smoothies, in the other hand with a loving smile plastered on his face, making his dimples poke out.

“Mm. Hi, darling.” Your arms reached forward, gesturing him to come to you, and he gladly did, situating himself on your body as you wrapped your arms around him.

You two stayed like that for a moment, basking in the presence and gratitude of one another. It was nice until your stomach started growling, making Harry chuckle.

“C’mon, gotta feed my girl before we head to the gym.” He got off of you, helping you up and out of the bed before helping you make the bed. He walked over to the kitchen before you went to the restroom, and when you walked out, Harry had your breakfast set on a plate.

You two made light conversation, mostly enjoying the silence and tastiness of the food before you got ready to go to the gym.

When you walked into Don’s Box, you were immediately greeted by a few of the members, giving you high fives, as well as saying hi to Harry. The entire gym had found out you two were together when they started to notice Harry coming into the gym almost every day and staying until the gym closed, so a few people had their speculations. Don was certain you two would get together from the very beginning, and he had told you that the only reason he was trying to act intimidating when Harry first walked in was that he sensed that something would happen, and he was right, something did happen.

Benny was ecstatic; jokingly telling Harry that he could now spend time with his wife since you had taken all of Harry’s time now, which Benny earned a push from Harry towards the ropes of the ring. Benny’s wife was also pregnant and wanted Harry to be the godfather, which Harry immediately took on that responsibility and role. But that also meant since you and Harry were planning on staying together for the long run, you were becoming a godmother as well, which you were very excited about.

You climbed up into the ring as Harry followed. You had a day off, and no one needed your attention other than Harry, so you helped him put on his gloves after you wrapped his hands in tape, and you put on your mitts, making sure they were tight before clapping the mitts together—Harry punched his gloves together, making sure they were comfortable.

You raised your brows at him teasingly. “Ready, darling?”

“Ready as always, my angel,” he responded, and you smirked.

“Give me a good one. Give me 1.”

talk to me about your favorite moments, your thoughts and feelings about this pls! thank you for reading <3

#timetravelathon #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #boyfriend!harry #boxer!harry #harry styles solo #harry #harry styles #harry styles story

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Unofficial Fathers

MAIN MASTERLIST

Avengers x Teen!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,450ish

Requests: I put two requests together for this one. I hope that it’s okay.

1-What about one with the Avengers and reader (maybe they have super speed???) where the reader is a teenager and super stressed out for whatever reason so the Avengers decide to get them moving by doing something with water (like water guns, balloons, slide, etc) with them. Just like fluff, I think it’d be kinda cute

2-Can you write an avengers x teen!reader, where she lost function in both of her legs, which makes her really sad and depressed? The others have to help her with everything and she feels bad, so she ends up trying to do things herself, but gets hurt. Maybe steve and tony play a more significant role. Thanks!

Warnings: angst / fluff / paralysis / wishing to have died

“Hey Speedy!” Tony called over the comms. “You’re up!”

“Finally!” You exclaimed.

The mission had started almost an hour ago, and the plan had been for you to hang out in the quinjet until you were deemed needed. Which annoyed you. Even though you were barely 17, you had been a part of the Avengers for almost 3 years. Longer than even Peter Parker.

Due to some freak accident during the Battle of New York, you somehow ended up with super speed abilities. That’s how Steve and Tony found you almost 3 years old. The two were in the city for meetings and you were zooming around helping people and playing pranks. You thought it would be fun to do something to those two. But before you could do something, Tony and Steve had you pinned to the wall with part of the Iron Man suit. Apparently, their ‘meeting’ was to actually find you and bring you in.

The whole Team was interested in getting to know you very quickly and get you properly trained. Natasha, Clint, Bucky, and Steve handled your combat training personally, while Tony and Bruce tested your abilities and created gear that would help you.

Steve and Tony, though definitely not a couple, took on the role of your parents. You even had begun calling them as such. Steve was Pa and Tony was Dad. They didn’t always agree on exactly how to handle you. But they loved you and that was a step above your real parents, who you didn’t even know.

“Y/N! I need you to get in the building and get anyone and everyone out!” Steve instructed. “As fast as you can! I think the building is going down!”

“You got it Cap!” You responded.

Using your super speed you rushed out of the quinjet and into the building. You zig-zagged through each floor. The first few were empty, but eventually you ran into some people. You quickly helped them out of the building to continue your search. You were almost done with you sweep when you felt the building tremble. You paused, glancing around.

“Kid!” Tony shouted in the comms. “The building is going down. Where are you?”

“Uh… I don’t think you want to know,” you responded.

“Please tell me you’re not still in the building, Y/N,” Steve said.

“I’m sorry, Pa. I’m almost done with my sweep. Just one last floor.”

“No, Y/N! Get out of there now!”

“Just one more floor!” You sped away to get to the last floor.

“I’m on my way to you, Y/N,” Tony said. “Meet me at the Northwest window.”

“Alright. I’m almost—“

You suddenly heard a loud cry. You turned to see a little girl huddled up in the corner as the building’s tremor’s worsened. Rushing to the little girl, you barely missed the ceiling caving down and breaking the floor.

“I’m outside the window, kid!” Tony exclaimed. “You need to get here, now!”

“There’s a kid in here!” You retorted, grabbing the little girl. You sped to the window. “You need to take her.” You held her out to Tony.

“Not without you!”

“Just take her, Dad! Please!”

He quickly took her from your arms. “Don’t do anything! I’ll be right back!”

He flew off and the floor began to crack worse beneath your feet. You knew, even with your super speed, that you wouldn’t be able to make it out of the building without Tony coming for you. When another section of floor collapsed, you knew you needed to get out of there.

“Dad!” You shouted.

“I’m almost there, honey!” He responded. “Just hang on!”

The floor cracked beneath you, sending you falling. You grasped onto the ledge.

“Dad!” You screamed.

“Almost, there—“

“AHHH!”

The building’s roof collapsed, with the rest of the building following. You were pushed down with the debris, screaming.

“Y/N!!!” A multitude of voices screamed over the comms.

But you didn’t hear anything else, because you landed with a thud, hitting your head and blacking out before the rest of the building landed on you.

~~~

“Tony, come take a rest,” Clint urged. “At least drink something.”

You had been stuck under the building for hours at this point, with Tony working non-stop to try and get to you.

“I can’t,” Tony responded. “My kid’s down there.”

“Scott’s almost here, he’ll shrink down and see what’s going on.”

“I can’t afford to waste a second.”

“Stark, we don’t know if moving any of this will make it worse for her,” Bucky said. “We could just be killing her faster.”

“You don’t think I know that!” Tony spun around. “But she’s the closest thing I have to a daughter! And I’ve already let her down once today.”

“You didn’t let her down.”

“I’m the one who told her to go into the building,” Steve said, everyone able to feel the self blame in his words. “I did this to her.”

“Stop with the blame game here, guys,” Clint interrupted. “Y/N wouldn’t want that. Now, we need—"

“I’m here! I’m here!” Scott yelled, running up with Hope. “Romanoff and Banner got us hooked up to cameras and we brought extra Pym particles so that we can get her out of there.” He briefly made eye contact with Tony and Steve. “We’re going to get her out of there.”

“We’ve got this,” Hope confirmed.

Shrinking, the two quickly got into the rubble. The others rushed over to the screens so that they could hear and see what was going on. It was dusty, that much was clear. But the couple were quick to follow FRIDAY’s leads on where to go. The AI was trying to to its best to sense were you were by heat signatures.

“Miss Y/N should be just below,” the AI informed the two in the debris.

“There she is,” Steve breathed out, seeing your head on the screen. It was clear that blood had been, or still was, coming from somewhere on your head. “Tell us what’s going on guys. What’s her status?”

“She’s breathing,” Hope confirmed. “She’s scratched up, but it looks like the bleeding as stopped.”

“She’s lost quite a bit of blood,” Scott added. He turned, revealing her bottom half, squished under a large piece of cement. “That’s not good.”

“Shit,” Tony whispered. “No.”

“We need to shrink her before the damage gets worse,” Hope said. “Get on the other side of her, Scott.”

“On it,” Scott replied.

“You ready?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Shrink her in 3, 2, 1.”

Your body was quickly shrunk. Hope and Scott quickly worked together to secure you to Hope.

“Okay, she’s secure,” Scott said. “We’re on our way up.”

“You’re going to want to get everything ready,” Hope warned. “We aren’t going to want to bring her back to normal size without being ready to work.”

“Helen Cho is waiting back at the compound with her team,” Bruce informed. “Natasha and I have the quinjet ready to stabilize her as much as we can on the way.”

“Steve, Tony, you may want to stay away. It’s worse than the camera’s probably caught.”

“Not a chance.” / “Like hell!”

“Hope is right,” Clint said. “Bruce needs to be able to check her out with out you two hovering.” He looked at Bucky, the two seemingly having a silent conversation. They both took a step towards the two other men. “When they bring her out, we can’t have you two going all papa bears.”

“We’re in the quinjet,” Scott informed.

Clint and Bucky were quick. Bucky went for Steve, fighting with him to slow him down. Clint quickly shot an arrow at Tony’s arc reactor, shutting down the suit and effectively locking Tony in it. While that was happening, the others raced to the quinjet, getting it off the ground before the four men could get there.

Scott normalized himself first before helping Hope with herself and Y/N. Natasha and Bruce were waiting, ready to grab you as soon as they could. You were limp in Bruce’s arms, so incredibly so that it scared even the Hulk to his core. He and Natasha worked quickly and efficiently together to do everything they could before getting to the compound.

Back at the site, the four men had slowed down their fighting.

“How could you do that Clint?” Tony asked, clearly hurt as he was able to get his helmet off. “You have kids. You should understand the need to be with them when they’re injured.”

“I do,” Clint replied. “That’s why we knew we needed to stop the two of you.”

“Whatever happens, it’s going to be hard,” Bucky said. “And they need to be able to fully evaluate her. It was either this or sedation… We’re sorry. We want to be there for her too."

~~~

It was two hours before Cho had finished running all the tests and an hour after that before Tony and Steve could wait at your bedside. You were all bandaged, bruised, and scrapped, but you were alive. That’s all that really matter. The test results had yet to come back, so the men had to try and be patient. You sucked in a breath, alerting the men to the possibility of you waking up.

“Y/N?” Steve softly called. “You there, doll?”

“Pa?” You rasped, head turning towards the sound of his voice while your eyes crept open.

“Hey.” He smiled.

“Hi, kid,” Tony said.

You turned to look at him. “Dad.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I feel a hundred feet and then a building landed on me.”

“We’re not surprised there,” Steve commented.

“Hey, Y/N,” Helen Cho greeted as she walked into the room with her tablet. “How are you doing? Any unusual pain?”

“Well the drugs you’ve given me are trippy,” you replied.

“Drugs?” She repeated concerned, glancing at Tony and Steve.

“Yeah. I can feel my upper half, but my waist and below are completely numb. What did you give me, doc?”

Helen immediately went to work. She tore off the blankets covering your feet and immediately began running her pen up and down them.

“What’s going on?” You asked, trying to sit up.

“Steve, go get Bruce,” Helen ordered. Steve nodded and rushed out.

You looked at Tony. “Dad? What’s going on?”

“I-I— oh my gosh,” Tony stammered, hand covering his mouth.

“Dad!”

“We didn’t give you any pain meds, Y/N,” Helen stated.

“What?”

“We wanted to see if there was any damage done, so we didn’t want the pain meds getting in the way.”

“So… I—I… I can’t…” You began hyperventilating. “I…”

“Honey, lay down,” Tony urged, gently pushing you onto the bed. “Breathe.”

“I’m here!” Bruce said, hurrying in with Steve. “We need to get her into the scanner and compare it to the other tests we’ve taken.”

Helen quickly went to the head of your bed, unlocking the wheels. All of this was scaring you.

“Dad?” You looked at Tony, teary eyed, before looking at Steve. “Pa?” They both grasped one of your hands.

“We’re right here,” Steve said, bringing your hand up for a kiss as Helen and Bruce began to wheel you away.

“You both need to stay here, while we run the scans,” Bruce said.

“No! Please!” You pled, crying.

“I’ll be with you, Y/N. Tony and Steve just need to stay here.”

Bruce and Helen pushed you away as you begged and cried out for Steve and Tony. The rest of the Team rushed into the hallway to see what was happening. They witnessed you being pushed down the hall.

“What the hell is going on?” Sam asked, looking into the room where Tony and Steve had been left. Both men looked distraught, and absolutely heartbroken.

“Steve?” Bucky questioned.

“She… She… I…” Steve couldn’t pull his thoughts together.

“Tony?” Natasha questioned.

The man fell back into a chair, burying his head in his hands. “She couldn’t feel her legs,” Tony whispered. “She couldn’t feel her legs.”

“She thought they had given her pain killers,” Steve continued, whispering as well.

“Steve, sit down,” Bucky said, moving to help his friend. “You look like you could pass out.”

“I might… she couldn’t feel her legs…”

“She’s going to be alright,” Sam said. “Y/N’s a fighter.”

“Yeah, but… she couldn’t feel her legs…”

~~~

After getting you into the scanner, Bruce and Helen actually gave you drugs to help you calm down. You were asleep almost as soon as they were injected. The two doctors worked together to look over each scan and previously done test. Only to reach the same conclusion each time. You were paralyzed. This brought on a multitude of worries, but the biggest one had to do with your abilities. Would you ever be able to use them again?

After finding out about the diagnosis, it was the first question to leave Tony’s lips. Tony and Steve were standing outside your med-bay room, Helen and Bruce in front of them. The two doctors sighed, glancing at one another.

“No,” Bruce answered. “She wouldn’t be able to use her abilities again.”

What they didn’t know was that you had woken up just in time to hear Tony ask the question and Bruce answer it. Covering your mouth, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to stop from sobbing.

“She’s going to need help with everything, especially right now,” Helen continued for Bruce. “She’s going to need to be looked after. And I—“

“We’ll do it,” Steve replied, firmly. “We’re her family, we’ll take care of her.”

“I know that you two—this whole team, sees her as family. But this is going to be a long, hard road.”

“What are you saying?” Tony asked. “That we send her away? She’s almost 17! Who would be willing to adopt her at that age? Especially when we are her family!” He motioned between himself and Steve. “We are her fathers!”

“I understand, Tony. But you need to be prepared. She’s going to need help with the little everyday things. Bathing, getting changed, going to the bathroom. Somebody’s going to need to help her with it.”

“We will,” Steve repeated, still as firm as before. “Whatever she needs, for as long as she needs it. Whether it’s officially legal or not, she is our daughter and we will help her through it all.”

“I can make her braces,” Tony said. “Just like I did with Rhodes.”

“We actually believe that it would be more valuable if she learns to live with a wheelchair first,” Bruce responded. “Just in case anything were to happen with the braces, that she wouldn’t be completely helpless.”

“I agree with Bruce on this one,” Steve said. “She needs to be able to live in a wheelchair before she tries braces.”

“We will have her in physical and occupational therapy such, so she doesn’t lose all the muscles in her legs.”

Just then, Wanda rushed passed them, heading for your door. “Wanda?” Steve questioned. “What’s going on?”

“The pain,” Wanda replied. “She’s in so much pain.”

Following Wanda into the room, they witnessed you trying to control your emotions. Though it was clear you were upset. Tony and Steve rushed to either side of you.

“It’s okay, honey,” Tony whispered, wiping tears off your cheeks. “It’s okay.”

“N-no…” you rasped, shaking your head. “It’s… n-not…”

“Did you hear what we were talking about?” Steve asked. You nodded. “I’m so sorry, doll. You shouldn’t have had to find out that way.”

You couldn’t stop the sobs at this point. You had just gotten the worse news you could have imagined. You were paralyzed and know unable to use your abilities. In your mind, you were basically useless.

Steve quickly got into bed with you, pulling you into his arms. As he cradled you, he tried to get you to calm down. He glanced around worriedly at everyone else in the room, who didn’t know how to help.

~~~

“You need to eat, Y/N,” Tony pressed, trying to hand you a plate again.

“I’m not hungry,” you replied, voice void of all emotion.

You had fallen asleep in Steve’s arms, where the two of you stayed until morning. Tony brought in breakfast while Steve went to get ready for the day.

“You need to eat,” he said again.

“I said, I’m not hungry,” you repeated.

Tony sighed, seating the plate down. “Do you not like waffles? I can have Happy go get something else. A burger? Fries? Ice cream?”

“I want my legs back.”

“Kid—“

“Don’t try to make me feel better about this. You have no understanding about how I am feeling.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I just—“

“Can you leave me alone? I want to be alone.”

Tony knew that you just needed a moment. So without responding, he got up and left, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wall next to it, running a hand down his face. The guilt he was feeling was real. If only he had grabbed you and the kid, or if he had just flown faster.

“You’re going there too?” Steve asked, coming up to lean on the wall across from Tony.

“The guilt is real,” Tony responded.

“Yeah… I shouldn’t have had her go into the building. What was I thinking?”

“I shouldn’t have let her convince me to take the kid… but, I guess, feeling this way won’t do her any good now, will it?”

“No, unfortunately, it won’t.” Steve looked at the closed door. “How is she?”

“She refused to eat… I’m thinking about having Happy get all her favorite foods for lunch.”

“Good idea. Maybe we could even try the wheelchair out and bring her to the common area.”

“I like it.”

“I’ll let everyone know about it.”

“Yeah, I—“

“Excuse me, Boss, Captain,” FRIDAY interrupted. “But Y/N is in need of immediate assistance.”

~~~

After Tony left, you huffed. This was miserable. You didn’t want to be stuck in this bed. And, honestly, the longer you sat there, the more you needed to go to the bathroom. You just didn’t want to ask for help, you didn’t want that to be your life. Studying the distance between your bed and the toilet for a few moments, you decided to get there yourself. Besides, they hadn’t tried to stand you up and get you to walk, maybe this was all one big cruel joke.

Taking a deep breath, you flung your covers off. You pushed yourself towards the edge of the bed, helping your legs to rest over it. Other deep breath in and you pushed yourself off the bed, trying to stand. You immediately fell. Trying to brace yourself, you landed on your hands. One of your wrists cracked, failing to break your fall. In the midst of the struggle, your bladder decided to let loose, causing you to lay in a pool of your own pee. You clutched your wrist close to your chest as your door burst open, revealing two extremely worried men. You looked at them, with tears cascading down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I just wanted to do something by myself.” They looked at you with complete pity, which you absolutely hated.

“It’s okay,” Steve said, getting on the floor beside you, minding the puddle. He noticed your wrist. “Did you hurt yourself?”

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll go run and get you clothes, sweetheart,” Tony said. “Steve will help you into the shower. It’s all going to be okay.” He rushed out.

“No it won’t,” you whispered as Steve scooped you up into his arms. “It will never be again.”

And Steve thought his heart couldn’t shatter more than it already had. As he lifted you, he could practically feel the weight that this was having on you. You wouldn’t look at him as he took you into the bathroom and set you on the shower floor.

“Can I help you undress?” Steve asked.

You inhaled sharply, closing your eyes. This was your life now. Though you could undress yourself, you would always need help, basically be waited on all the time.

“If you want, I can go grab Natasha,” Steve suggested. “Or Wanda. Or, Pepper might even be in today. You love Pepper.”

“I want to be alone,” you mumbled.

“Y/N, I just want to help. Just let me help.”

“And I just want to be alone.” Tears were still falling, though you couldn’t understand how.

“Y/N—“

“Just leave me alone!” You shouted, pushing yourself into the corner.

“What’s going on in here?” Tony asked, bringing in the clothes with Pepper following.

“Leave me alone!”

“Why don’t you guys wait outside?” Pepper suggested. “I’ll help Y/N.”

Steve sighed, straightened up from his kneeled position and hurrying out of there. Tony looked at you sadly before taking his leave. Pepper shut the door and came to your side.

“What do you want me to do?” She asked softly.

“I want to be left alone,” you responded, frustrated and not willing to look her way.

“That’s not going to happen and you know it, Tony and Steve won’t allow it. Those men out there care about you and are so extremely worried. All they want to do is help.”

“I don’t care.”

She let out a small sigh. “Will you at least let me help? We need to get you out of those clothes and washed up. Especially since that wrist needs to get checked out.”

After a moment, you gave in and looked at her. “Okay.”

Pepper smiled at you briefly. “Okay.”

~~~

Apparently, there was already a hairline fracture in your wrist because of the accident. Your fall off the bed didn’t do anything to help it. You had willingly let Pepper help you clean up, but other than that you were still fighting asking for help.

The Team had tried to lift your spirits at lunch out in the common area, but to no avail. After that, you were taken to your regular room, where a twin bed had been added.

“What’s that?” You asked, you hadn’t spoken since the bathroom.

“Someone is going to stay in here with you until things start becoming normal again,” Steve replied, pushing the wheelchair further into the room.

“Normal,” you scoffed.

“Buck and I were thinking we could have a movie night today. Maybe try and watch all of the—“

“I just want to sleep.”

“That’s okay too.”

“I would be here too kid,” Tony added, “but Pep and I are working out somethings with the physical therapist.”

“What’s the point of physical therapy? My legs don’t work.”

“It’s to keep your muscles, so that one day you can get braces.”

You nodded, glancing around until you were staring at your tennis shoes on the floor. They were brand new, Stark designed shoes. They were meant to not wear as fast because of your speeding abilities. Your speeding abilities that you could no longer access.

“Can you do something with those?” You asked, pointing at them.

Both Tony and Steve looked over. They got a tad deflated after remembering how excited you had been about those shoes.

“Yeah, sure, kid,” Tony responded, grabbing them. “I’ll just put them up in your closet. We can—“

“No,” you interrupted. “I want them gone.”

“Y/N—“

“I don’t need any reminders of what I’m now unable to do.”

“Sweetheart,” Tony got down in front of you, “you can still, or will be able to, do a lot. You got lucky.” He immediately regretted his last sentence, even Steve flinch.

“I got lucky? I. Got. Lucky?”

“Y/N, that’s not what—“

“Get the hell out!”

“Hey, that’s not how you talk to your—“

“My what? Father?! Cause you aren’t, remember? Maybe you should take Helen’s advice and give me away! Might make it easier on everyone!”

“You are my daughter, damn it! Whether it’s official or not, or by blood!”

“Y/N, Tony—“ Steve tried to interrupt.

“No! I actually will say that you got lucky. You did because you have people willing to help you, willing to support you.”

“Well stop!” You shouted back. “Have you ever thought that I don’t want any of your help?! Maybe I think that you should have just left me down there to die! It would have been better that way! I’m basically useless like this!”

“Enough!” Bucky yelled, barging in with Nat. “Steve, Tony, out.”

With a glare sent their way from Nat, the two men didn’t even argue. You were refusing to look at Bucky and Nat. Half embarrassed that you said those things to the men you considered your dads, and half embarrassed that you were believing the terrible thoughts your mind was taunting you with.

Bucky and Natasha looked at each other, unsure of what exactly to do. You let them help you into bed before they left you alone, leaving with a promise to bring food later.

In the loneliness of your bedroom, you let your thoughts consume you. How you were now useless as an Avenger without being able to have super speed. How you wished they would have just let you die. How you wish they wouldn’t be so helpful, it was driving you crazy. How you really didn’t have any family, you were all alone.

~~~

To respect your boundaries, Tony and Steve decided to let the others help them. No matter how hard it was. It hurt them to see you struggling through everything and not rush to your side. Not that you would let them help, you weren’t letting anyone without putting up a fight.

Steve and Tony had had many talks since they realized you were wishing that you had just died. Tony had made sure that FRIDAY had surveillance on you 24/7 and the Team, besides Tony and Steve, were switching sleeping in your room every night.

It wasn’t easy on anyone, especially since you were having nightmares about being stuck down in the debris. Someone would wake you from the dream, only to be quickly shut out. The terrors would leave you trembling, sweating, and in a state of panic. But, with you not willing to let people help, the others were forced to watch you struggle with this.

Physical and occupational therapy was a whole other issue. You were rude to the therapists and unwilling to do anything. As the weeks went by, the Team could see the affect it was happening on your legs and they were concerned. Steve and Tony would watch each session from above, angry at the whole situation.

It had been two months since the whole incident, and you still weren’t showing any signs of changing your attitude any time soon.

“Come on, Y/N,” your therapist sighed. “What I’m asking you to do isn’t all that hard. I’m going to do all the work.”

“No,” you stated, determined.

“Y/N—“

“Why don’t you go help someone who’s more able to do things? Maybe someone who will actually get better. I’m sure they’d love your help."

“I can’t watch this anymore,” Tony said to Steve, watching from above. “She’s hurting herself.”

“You know we can’t force her to do anything, Tony,” Steve replied. “We have to let her do this on her own.”

“No, we don’t.” Tony turned around and headed for the room you were currently in.

“Tony! What are you going to do?”

“Use the hate she is harboring towards what happened, towards us, for her benefit.”

Tony burst into the room, causing you and the therapist to jump. You furrowed your brows, confused at what Tony and Steve could possibly be doing here.

“Hand me your leg, Y/N,” Tony demanded.

“What? No,” you responded.

“Hand me your damn leg!”

“No!”

“Fine!” Tony marched over and picked you up from your wheelchair.

“Put me down!” You tried to push off Tony. “Let me go!”

“Tony!” Steve called. “What are you doing?”

“It’s time for some tough love,” Tony responded. He set you down, not gently, on a therapy table. He grabbed your leg and began doing the exercises.

“Let go of me!” You demanded, trying to reach and pry him away, but failing.

“No! Don’t you see what you are doing to yourself? What you’re doing to those around you?! You are miserable and you are making others miserable! Yes, what happened to you was absolute shit. Trust me, Steve and I will have that guilt with us for the rest of our lives. But it’s up to you to decide how to come out of this. You ever fight to live, fight to find the new normal, or you let yourself whither away. And I’m not about to let that last one happen.”

“You may think you’re alone in this, but you aren’t,” Tony continued. “Steve and I, the Team, we all want to help you through this. Even if that means sticking with you for life.”

During Tony’s whole thing, you had began crying. He was right, you were making yourself and everyone around you miserable.

“I’m sorry,” you cried out. “I’m so sorry… I just… I just wish…”

“I know, honey, I know,” Tony said, moving to pull you into his chest. You melted into him, crying. He placed a kiss on your head. “I’ve got you… I’ve got you.”

“Don’t leave me, Dad.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve came over and grabbed one of your hands, gently kissing it. You gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Pa,” you croaked.

“It’s okay,” Steve replied with a tiny smile. “No need to apologize. Just please don’t say that you would have rather died again. I don’t think I could take it if you did.”

“If I died or said it again?”

“Both.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“Will you guys… uh, will you guys help me with my exercises?”

“Of course, honey,” Tony replied. “But maybe Steve should do the other leg, because I think I wore myself out.”

Steve stood. “I’ll exercise that leg better than you could, Stark,” he commented.

“Oh, you’re on, Rogers.” Tony swiftly stood up.

“Great,” you muttered. “Now this is going to be a thing.”

~~~

Now that you were accepting help, things were beginning to look up again. Not that things weren’t hard, but they were better and you could handle it all better. The Team had decided to celebrate, but wouldn’t tell you how. Wheeling your wheelchair into the common area, you found it pitch black.

“FRIDAY,” you called out to the AI, “can I get some lights?”

“Of course,” the AI responded.

The lights came on and suddenly you were being pelted with water from squirt guns. The Team came out of their hiding spots, laughing, as they continued to fire at you.

“Guys!” You squealed, trying to shield yourself. “Guys! St-stop!”

“Never!” Sam exclaimed as he made his way closer to you.

“Here,” Peter said, lowering himself from the ceiling. “Take this.” He offered you a large gun. “Save yourself.”

You laughed as you began to fight back. Suddenly, you were pulled backwards by both Steve and Tony, who were trying to use you and the chair as protection.

“They’ve turned against us!” Tony exclaimed.

“Help us, Y/N!” Steve added.

You couldn’t stop laughing as you, Tony and Steve worked together to try and defeat the others. The Team couldn’t stop smiling as they watched you act so happy. It was so refreshing. After the common room was all but turned into a pool, the Team decided to change and then meet down in the movie room to relax for the night. When Y/N had arrived down there, Tony and Steve had saved a place between them.

“Can I help you onto the couch?” Steve asked.

You responded with a nod and let Steve pick you up, wrapping your arms around his neck. He carefully guided you through the maze of lodging teammates to the spot him and Tony had chosen on the couch.

“Thanks Pa,” you said as he set you down. You pulled your legs up close to you.

“Not a problem,” he smiled, sitting down beside you.

Tony spread a blanket over you guys. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Of course,” Tony responded, leaving a little kiss on your forehead.

You curled up against Tony as Steve moved your legs to rest over his lap, allowing him to massage them. FRIDAY quickly turned on your favorite movie. You glanced around, taking in everyone around you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Though your life was going to continue to have its challenges, you were glad you had found this family.

Part 2

#the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #tony stark imagine #steve rogers x imagine #marvel x reader #the avengers x teen!reader #avengers x teen!reader #tony stark x teen!reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines

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telehxhtrash · 4 years

Text

A masterpost on Togashi’s gay subtext and why it’s intentional.

Hi ! After seeing so many posts about Togashi dropping subtext about Killua's possible romantic feelings for Gon, I thought it'd be a good idea to make a sort of "masterpost" with all the subtext that Togashi has included into his work.

I usually see a lot of people trying to say that HxH isn't about romance and that Togashi isn't interested in writing romance into the manga, but when you analyze all the subtext that's been going on the further Gon and Killua's relationship progresses, I think it's incorrect to say that Togashi has never hinted at the possibility of romance in HxH.

This is going to be a long post, enjoy your read!

Also, please note that I will only base this analysis on the manga, so there can be no mistake that "maybe this is just something the anime made gayer" : i want to prove that the subtext is 100% intentional on Togashi's part.

I'd also like to mention, although I will analyze it further after listing the subtext, that Togashi is a VERY smart man. There are always little details in the story and/or foreshadowing that are easily missed at first but when you notice them, it truly makes you understand how much attention and care Togashi puts into his work. There are countless details and symbolism that are analyzed daily through wonderful meta posts, from the main 4′s birthdays and their link to their character or the religious symbolism in Kurapika’s story arc.... Togashi loves to foreshadow and plant little details into his work, so when Togashi plants subtext, I'm sure he 100% knows that he's writing it, and it can't be seen as unintentional.

I'll also link all my references for this post at the end of it, so feel free to read all the additional textposts and content if you want to know more.

Well, let's get into it!

EDIT : i can’t believe this post is still being used as a reference it makes me so happy... thank you so much !!! i edited this to tweak it a bit because i wrote this a while ago and the phrasing seemed off to me, so if you’re reading or re-reading this post, hi, welcome to masterpost on gay subtext 2.0 !

GREED ISLAND ARC

Greed Island is to me the arc that lays down the nature of Killua and Gon's relationship. It's during this arc that we get to see a bit more of what Killua thinks, how he's lucky to have met Gon and that he feels really grateful. Gon’s behavior in this arc is also very affectionate, with him always reassuring Killua about his place next to him. While the scene where Killua thinks "You've got it backwards, Gon, I'm the one that's glad I met you." can't be considered as subtext, I think it's something that lets the reader know a bit more about how Killua feels towards Gon.

But other than this scene, which can clearly be dismissed as platonic, there are 2 more moments in the Greed Island arc that are layered in subtext.

• The Rainbow Diamond (chapter 151)

During their time in Dorias, Killua uses Risky Dice to gain cards from the slot machines. The first card that Killua gains is called "Rainbow Diamond", the description of the card being "A diamond that shines in a rainbow of colors. Propose with this diamond and she is guaranteed to say "yes"".

There are 3 different things we can take from this panel. First, the card is a marriage proposal card, so it's obviously romantic in nature. Second, the object is a RAINBOW diamond. And third, Killua, wanting to keep the card safe, gifts it to Gon.

In short, Togashi sat down at his desk, decided to draw Killua winning a MARRIAGE PROPOSAL CARD (it could've been any card, but Togashi CHOSE to make Killua win a marriage proposal card) that has a RAINBOW diamond on it and made Killua gift it to Gon.

While I personally don't think that subtext can be used to 100% ascert that Killua has romantic feelings for Gon, I think it's a funny little touch from Togashi, and I'm even gonna say a sort of hint towards how Killua's feelings for Gon are going to evolve in this arc and the next.

• “It has to be Killua” (chapter 166)

Now this is a scene that I've never seen anyone talk about, at least on Tumblr, but when I read a bit of analysis on it I was 100% convinced this was intentional subtext. I'm basically quoting here what this article explains, so if you want more detail, I recommend reading it.

As you probably recall, during their deadly dodgeball game against Razor, Killua decides to sacrifice his hands to ensure that Gon could use all his strength. When confronted about it, Killua insists that it's nothing, and Gon shocks him by saying that he knew all along that he was hurting himself for his sake.

Gon then says that it can only be Killua holding the ball, and that it has to be Killua, resulting in Killua being absolutely awestruck and embarassed. I'm also going to talk about the anime adaptation for this one, because it's perfectly executed and translates extremely well the nuance that the second sentence bears. If you want to rewatch it, this scene happens in episode 70. It's worth noting that in the anime, we see Killua not reacting to Gon's first sentence, but losing his composure entirely when Gon says the second sentence. But why ?

The reason was lost in translation. His exact words are "Booru wa Killua ga motte-kurenai to. Killua ja nakya dame nan da.". Both sentences basically say the same thing : It has to be Killua holding the ball. That second sentence can be translated literally as "If it's not Killua, that won't do." However, the second sentence, in a different context, can also be used to say a totally different thing.

While it's certain that Gon used this sentence in the context of the dodgeball match, the sentence "~ja nakya dame nan da" also serves as a confession of one's feelings in japanese. It's basically the equivalent to "you're the one for me". When you google the sentence, it turns up romantic songs, forum posts asking what it would translate to in English and posts on how to confess to someone.

The sentence basically drowns in romantic subtext. As mentioned before, Killua has no reaction to the first sentence "Booru wa Killua ga motte-kurenai to.", but loses his composure at the second one, and I think that was a very deliberate thing Togashi wanted to convey : this sentence has an additional layer, and clearly Killua is taking it to heart.

I will come back to this specific subtext in a bit, because we can parallel it with another subtext-y situation, so please keep it in mind for now.

CHIMERA ANT ARC

Now onto the sad gay arc! This arc is so RIDDLED in subtext and parallels that it's making me lose my mind.

• Gon, you are light. (chapter 199)

This scene is just... So romantic in nature. I’m not too objective on this, but I really do believe that this moment is the exact moment Killua fell in love with Gon and started to realize he felt a bit more than friendship towards him. It’s Killua respecting Gon for who he is, realizing that he’s light and he’s always been, he’s the one who saved him and who’s always been so bright and optimistic and always makes the best out of any situation. In this scene, Killua lets himself drown in Gon’s light, allows himself to feel this “wow” moment of pure admiration and love, and it’s absolutely beautiful.

It's extremely important to take the context of this scene into account. What happened is that Killua, who has been struggling mentally for the entire series with the fact that he's always running away, ran away once more, leaving Kite to die with Pitou. This ENTIRE chapter is literally adults absolutely DESTROYING Killua, first Kite's troupe bashing him for leaving Kite behind, and then Netero, Morel and Knov coming in like icing on the cake telling Killua that "After all, he's just a kid", and that he should hurry up to his mommy.

Killua is beating himself up for running away again, got destroyed by Kite's team and 3 extremely strong pro hunters. His morale is down in the drains right now. He expects Gon to be mad at him for betraying Kite, for running away once again, for leaving Kite to die alone and ripping Gon away from Kite : he expects that he'll lose Gon for his cowardice.

HOWEVER, the first thing that Gon says to Killua after having been passed out for god knows how many hours is "Thank you".

Gon woke up and instantly eased up all of Killua's fears : he wasn't a loser for running away, and Gon was actually thankful for him. Gon, at this moment, was the only one that showed kindness, understanding and gratefulness towards Killua. Gon even goes so far as saying that he knows that Kite isn't dead, and that they have to help him. At this instant, Gon is truly Killua's saving grace. He's the one that trusts him with his entire heart, and believes in his choices when even he can't believe in himself. Gon is truly Killua's light at this precise moment, because he was the only one who supported him, trusted him and reassured him in this awful situation.

How can someone shine so bright in such a terrible situation ? How can someone be so positive that nothing bad will happen ?

Gon asserting all of this makes Killua respect him a lot. Keep this word in mind, because it’s going to be important in the next piece of subtext I’m analyzing, because those two scenes canonically follow each other and are basically Togashi highlighting that something special happened when Killua called Gon his light, and that his feelings deepened.

• Introduction to Palm's character (chapter 200)

This piece of subtext is very very easy to miss but it's one of the most important subtext-y scene, because coupled with the “Gon, you are light” scene, it’s very clear that this dialogue is deliberately highlighting Killua’s feelings.

This chapter introduces Palm's character (which, imo, is a character introduced for the sole intent of being a catalyst to Killua's feelings towards Gon, but I'll talk about it in my post talking about the CAA parallels) - edit: i talked about this briefly here.

So, Killua having looked into Gon's eyes for like 10min straight and concluded that Gon was the light of his life a chapter ago, is now chilling with Gon as they meet Palm.

Palm takes them to a café and STRAIGHT OFF THE BAT harasses them about how much she's in love with Knov. Like when I say harassing, it's literally a whole page of her explaining her feelings towards Knov.

There are two interesting things that can be drawn from this interaction.

First, it's extremely easy to draw parallels between Palm's situation towards Knov and Killua's situation towards Gon. Palm starts by saying how amazing her master is, that she probably has special feelings for him but the most important thing is to respect the other person. Remember how I talked about how this last scene was Killua having a surge of deep, deep respect for Gon ? Palm makes sure to highlight that special word, that it’s important to respect someone when it comes to love.

She then goes on to say that she hasn't said anything to Knov, and never will. All of this adds nothing to the story, it's empty dialogue, Togashi could've introduced Palm in virtually any other way possible, but he chose to drag her and the gay duo to a café and make her have a monologue about love RIGHT after the extremely emotional panel of Killua declaring that Gon is his light just a chapter ago.

But there's more. Not only does Palm monologue for a while about love, but after finishing her monologue, this happens :

This panel features ONLY Palm and Killua, her looking at him like the psycho she is, and straight up telling him that "love can suddenly spark out of nowhere, don't you think so?".

What's so interesting about this is the fact that Togashi made the deliberate choice to have Palm say this to Killua and Killua ONLY, which after the gay existential crisis he had last chapter, can very much be applied to his situation. Love DID spark out of nowhere, and Togashi wants you to notice. Togashi could've made Palm say this to herself, with no distinct listener like the last panel, but he made the conscious choice to draw this panel with Palm adressing herself to Killua SPECIFICALLY.

Those two pieces of subtext, that fit perfectly together, make me believe 100% that Togashi knows what he's doing and he's not unintentionally planting gay subtext in his work. The fact that Togashi sat at his desk, drew Killua calling Gon his light, and then followed this scene with the introduction to a character who picks Killua apart to tell him that "love is something that just happens, don't you think?" is 100% proof that Togashi knows what he's doing.

• Date with Palm (chapters 217 and 218)

I think this situation has many layers, but many people still dismiss it as bro behavior so I'm gonna try my best to counter argue. First of all, and although that's not proof of anything, Killua looks EXTREMELY distressed by the prospect of Gon going on a date with Palm, but that can be counter-argued by saying that Killua is just worried because Palm is completely crazy.

What I want to talk about is the scene that happens right after, when Gon and Killua go to the gym (because theyre DUDES YEAH WE WORK OUT NO HOMO), and the conversation casually drifts to Killua asking Gon if he's ever been on a date before, valid question considering what just happened previously. There are multiple things here :

1) Killua seems distressed that Gon has been on dates before. While it can be argued that it's a normal reaction because Gon has and he hasn't, I believe that Killua - who is in no way a normal person who would get flustered about "not having been on dates before a certain age" - would not feel uncomfortable that his friend is more experienced than him - especially when literal seconds later, he monologues about how he doesn’t care about dates and just wants to stick with Gon.

2) Gon then proceeds to ask Killua if he's ever been on a date, to which Killua responds :

What I want to highlight is the panel where Killua says "And the truth is, I want to stay by your side... Always...". Basically, what Killua is saying, is that he doesn't care about dates, all he wants to do is be with Gon.

I don't think this can be counter-argued as bro behavior, but with all the subtext I've explained before, this right here is pretty gay. Togashi put this panel deliberately to show that Killua doesn't give a crap about dates when he can stay with Gon, and with the "gon you are light" scene and everything in mind, this is another intentional subtext.

There's also the fact that Killua stalks the date like a jealous girlfriend - but I'm not gonna count that as subtext because it can be argued that he's just worried about Gon because Palm is insane.

• Gon is my best friend ! (chapter 219)

Remember how I told you to keep the "It has to be Killua" subtext in mind because I was gonna come back to it later ? Well.

During Palm's date with Gon, Killua runs into Rammot, who would definitely have ran into Palm and nenless Gon. Killua is forced to confront his worst fear : this is the moment where he knows that if he runs away again, Gon WILL die. Killua is literally overcoming his "programming", the physical representation of years of abuse out of love and care for Gon. He's ripping out the needle from his forehead out of pure, genuine care for Gon, because if he doesn't, then he'll lose him forever.

Now, what I actually wanna talk about is this panel :

What we see is Killua thinking happy thoughts about all his adventures with Gon because he can't - won't - doesn't want to run away anymore, and all this for his sake. But what I wanna draw attention to is the dodgeball panel that's bigger than all the others, and the only one where you can actually clearly make out what's written : "Killua ja nakya dame nan da".

Now, isn't that interesting that the panel that takes a bigger place in the whole panel is the one with this particular sentence? Remember what I talked about a bit earlier, about how "~ ja nakya dame nan da" is a sentence with a lot of romantic connotations (would pretty much equal to "you're the one for me" in English). Clearly this particular sentence stuck with Killua.

I'm not completely objective on this matter since I firmly believe that at this point, Killua has romantic feelings for Gon, but I interpret this as another deliberate thing Togashi did : putting the panel bigger so we can see that it has a particularly significant importance to Killua, and Killua's state of mind right now (not wanting to lose Gon).

In my opinion, two things happened here: One, Killua remembers this specific interaction because he knows how much Gon trusts him and he doesn't want to betray his trust. But I also firmly believe that Killua remembered this specific interaction because of the romantic connotation the sentence "Killua ja nakya dame nan da" has. Those words clearly shocked him, and I think he remembers them in this life-threatening situation, after the "gon you are light" scene, Palm talking about "love just happens", the "i want to stay with you, always" because he realizes that he wishes Gon would say that sentence in a romantic context, and not in the context of the dodgeball match, thus leading him to surpass himself to prove his love and perhaps live to see the day where Gon could say those words in that romantic context.

Now, of course, all of this is my interpretation, so it's really up to debate, but I really wanna highlight the fact that Togashi deliberately CHOSE to highlight this particular interaction between Gon and Killua, this sentence with romantic subtext, to lead Killua to finally break his chains and be able to be protect Gon fully. It’s also interesting to note that the 2011 anime adaptation also makes it a point to emphasize how deep these words stuck to Killua by making it the last flashback that makes Killua effectively rip out the needle out of his head.

Also let's quickly mention the irony in the situation here : while Gon is on a romantic date, Killua fights to protect him, overcoming his weakness to prove his love. It’s not Palm who deserves that date, it’s Killua.

• A lovers’ suicide (chapter 286)

Now, onto the most important piece of subtext, that can not be counterargued as platonic in any way, shape or form. During the palace invasion, Killua leaves Gon's side, proceeds to go kick Youpi's butt only to have to fall back because he used up all his electricity nen. When Killua is charging up, he meets with Meleoron, and tells him that once he's done charging, he'll go back to Gon's side.

They briefly exchange information about the battle, and then Meleoron proceeds to ask Killua what's the plan for him and Gon. That's when Killua explains that "Once Gon is like this, he won't budge an inch. Worst case scenario, it'll be a double suicide.". At worst they both die, cool. They “go down in flames together”. It’s actually much, much more meaningful than that.

The specific word that Killua uses for double suicide is "心中" (shinjuu), which is a heavily romantically connotated word in japanese. Shinjuu, also translated as "lovers’ suicide", is when two people die out of love, by the same method, because there's a belief that this'll allow those two people to spend eternity together. Shinjuu is a major theme of Japanese literature, and it is always used romantically. It's a very uncommon word to use to refer to two people dying together, because of its heavy romantic connotation, and because it always refers to double suicide committed by people bound by love. In literature, it always refers to two lovers, in love. If you want to read more on shinjuu, i suggest this and this, those articles explain its historic roots and the definition, also emphasizing the feeling of "oneness" that characterizes shinjuu. If you’re interested, I also suggest reading the japanese article that defines shinjuu, and hitting the google translate button, it has some pretty interesting sentences like “Shinjuu is traditionally committed by men and women out of mutual love, in the hope that they will be connected in the afterlife because they can't be together in this world.”

So basically, what Killua is saying is that he wants to go back to Gon's side to die with him, committing a "lovers’ suicide" because he doesn't want to leave Gon to die alone, and wants to die with him.

I also want to emphasize how special this word is to Killua, and that he and everyone around him know the special meaning of this word - In chapter 300, Ikalgo literally says "We were... No, KILLUA was ready to commit shinjuu with Gon". Ikalgo is really highlighting the fact that this word holds special meaning, especially to Killua, and that it was HIM who was willing to commit shinjuu by staying with Gon. Ikalgo and company dying with Gon wouldn't be shinjuu, but Killua dying with Gon would be, and Togashi emphasizes this through Ikalgo's thoughts.

This is pretty much the gist of it, but I suggest reading the wonderful post I linked in the references below if you want to know more about this specific subtext.

(edit : i actually wrote a post going a bit more into detail on Killua’s shinjuu wish if you want to read it here ! :3)

• “The one that Gon needs the most is you” (chapter 294)

I will go into this subtext more in details when I write the post about parallels in CAA, but I still want to talk about it briefly here.

Like I said before, to me, Palm was introduced as a catalyst for Killua's feelings towards Gon. Togashi purposefully wrote Palm as having romantic feelings for Gon to foil Killua's feelings for Gon and make him show jealousy towards Palm.

To Killua, Palm is someone who stole Gon from him, he sees her as a threat because maybe she'll make Gon happier than he does ? (ofc we all know thats not true but Killua is baby) - Basically, Killua thinks Palm might be more important to Gon than Killua is, because he believes they are romantically involved. That's why when he sees her again later on, after Gon rejected his help, leaving Killua helpess as to how to save his dear friend, Killua sees Palm as a saving grace.

He knows that if Gon sees Palm as a chimera ant, he will spiral down even more, so he tries to reason with her to get her to be gentle to Gon, because if not her, then who could? Palm would clearly be able to comfort Gon, with whom Killua believes is romantically involved with, better than him, right ? If Gon rejected Killua, then clearly Palm could help, since she seems closer to Gon (BECAUSE HE BELIEVES THEYRE DATING), right?

This confrontation between Palm and Killua closely ressembles a situation like an ex confronting a new girlfriend - and I think this is exactly why Togashi wrote Palm this way. He wanted Killua to confront who he thought was a threat to their relationship, making him believe that this person who's """"dating"""” Gon is more important to him than himself, only to have her openly admit that she means nothing to Gon. The only one Gon needs is Killua.

And that, my friends, coming from someone you believe is romantically involved with your best friend (who you probably have a crush on), someone you're jealous of, the one you thought was the person most important to him, that's a pretty meaningful statement.

Basically, what's happening, is that Palm reaffirms that Gon holds Killua closer than a potential romantic partner. And that's why Killua is so, so happy to hear that. He was questioning his entire relationship, questioning if Gon even cared about him, because he rejected him a few minutes before, but then his "rival" comes in and reaffirms that even she knows that no one comes close to Killua to Gon.

I also want to mention that this act of pure love (Killua only thinking of saving Gon when in a life threatening situation) is what made Palm come back to her human senses. d'awwwwww

• Illumi and Hisoka’s parallel on lovers who die of Alluka’s requests. (chapter 323)

Now onto the final significant subtext - while I don't particularly think of it as subtext-y, I know a lot of people have so I still want to include it here.

When Illumi explains Alluka's powers to Hisoka, he explains that there are two different types of linked deaths when a request is failed : 1) the person who failed + the person they love the most 2) the person who failed + the people they spent most of their time with.

When applied to Killua, Hisoka naturally comes to the conclusion that no matter the outcome, Gon would always be the one dying with Killua, because he's spent so much time with him, and because he's the one that Killua loves the most. In the panel where Illumi explains this, we see a romantic, heterosexual couple demonstrating the effects of not completing one of Alluka's requests, and thus the "most important person dying".

While not making any true parallels, the fact that Hisoka, and the readers, are drawn to compare a heterosexual, romantic pairing to Killua dying with Gon because he's his "most important person" is an interesting piece of subtext.

_______

I want to finish by talking about Killua's birthday and how significant it is in my opinion. All the main 4 characters have birthdays that fall on specific dates, related to Japanese tradition, and often with events that can be associated to their character. Gon's is 5/5, which is Children's Day. Kurapika's is 4/4, the number 4 being considered an unlucky number, and this being an unlucky day to have a child. Leorio's is 3/3, Hinamatsuri (not really any main parallels here but still). But Killua's birthday is 7/7, and is the Japanese day to celebrate Tanabata.

If you are not familiar with Tanabata, the story is as follows : Orihime is a princess who works for her father, working hard and well, but she laments the fact that because of her hard work she can't meet someone and fall in love. Her father arranges for her to meet Hikoboshi, allowing Orihime to leave because he expects her to come back to work for him, but the two immediately fall in love and get married, and she never returns. I won't get into the rest of the story as it's this part that interests me the most, but if you want to read more about Killua and Tanabata I suggest reading the post I referenced below.

Does the story of Orihime remind you of anyone ? Killua also works for his father, but laments the fact that he can't go outside and meet someone. His father then lets him go, saying, and i quote: "he will come back, because he's my son". Doesn't this remind you of the tale of Tanabata ? Killua's story references the tale of Orihime perfectly, and I believe this is intentional : Killua's birthday isn't of any importance to the plot, so why make it Tanabata, a day that celebrates a love story that closely ressembles Killua's story ? The answer is simple : subtext.

With all this in mind, I think it's pretty clear that Togashi is writing intentional subtext to hint at Killua's feelings being romantic in nature. Togashi is a master writer, he has years of experience, and I strongly believe he knows what he's doing and not planting unintentional subtext. He's a very smart man, and knows how all of this can be interpreted.

I will finish by saying that Togashi is NOT an author that would deliberately queerbait his readers. So many people dismiss the possibility of having gay subtext leading onto an actual canon gay relationship because "it's not like the author would ever have gay main characters". While this holds true for a lot of manga authors, especially shonen manga authors, it does NOT apply to Togashi.

Togashi has always displayed interest in queer subjects and queer representation, putting trans characters in all of his major works (Miyuki in YYH, Mikihisa in Level E and Alluka in HxH). There were also canonically gay characters in his previous works : Itsuki in YYH, and a character named Kuramoto in Level E.

Togashi also always had interest in mangas having BL elements, citing Maya Mineo's "Patalliro!" as a manga he was attracted to during High School. If you're unfamiliar with Patalliro, the story focuses on the main character's love life as a gay man. He also admitted to basing Hiei's (YYH) design off a character from that manga.

Last but not least, Togashi mentioned in a note included in volume 1 of YYH that he wanted to write a sports manga, called The Trouble Quartet, where basically all the characters are gay. Togashi said he based it off his own interests as a writer, and that while it was refused by Shonen Jump, he got deeply attached to the project and that he would love to explore this project in a different shape once he made a name for himself. I suggest reading this post because the parallels between The Trouble Quartet and HxH are HILARIOUSLY accurate.

In short, Togashi has always had interest in queer matters, and was always interested in putting queer representation in his work. After YYH, which was a terrible experience for Togashi as a writer, he managed to snatch a contract that basically allows him to do whatever he wants with HxH. Having always held dear BL matters but never being able to explore it to his full intent, I believe Togashi is exploring queer identity further with HxH, because Shonen Jump basically lets him do anything.

To conclude, with Togashi's past experience and skill, his interest in queer representation, and the amount of subtext surrounding Killua, I honestly believe that Togashi is trying to explore further queer representation, and I wouldn't be surprised if HxH ends with Gon and Killua becoming a canon pairing, whether it be delivered in an ambiguous manner or not.

Edit : I actually wrote a post on why I believe it won’t be ambiguous, and that it’s truly never been ambiguous, just developing : here.

I hope you enjoyed the read, thank you for reading all of this, and feel free to show this to anyone who denies subtext in HxH !

REFERENCES

- "It has to be Killua" - Medium article, "Impossibilities in Translating Queerness : The Dodgeball Dilemma"

- Palm's Date Scene - Reddit post, "Togashi's love of Ambiguity: Chapters 217 and 218"

-A thematic analysis of Palm’s character : ”The Issue With Palm”

- Shinjuu - Tumblr post by hunterxhell, "A lovers' suicide, I guess." : + the post that mentions Ikalgo talking about shinjuu

- An analysis on different subtext-y situations

- Illumi and Hisoka’s parallel : here and here

- Killua’s birthday : "Killua, July 7th, and the significance of his birthdate”

- Togashi's interview mentioning Mineo's Patalliro

#hxh #hxh meta #hunter x hunter #killugon #meta #my posts #my meta

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minahoeshi · 3 years

Text

you were loved the most the most of all.

Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader | breakup angst

Summary: You should've known that when Ushijima Wakatoshi found it easy to fall in love with you, it might be even easier for him to fall out of it. But who expects the worst when it comes to loving someone as seemingly perfect as him, anyway?

Chapter 1 of 2

Chapter 2 of 2

Middle schooler Ushijima Wakatoshi was already more special than the kids around him. This, he was made to believe. It’s not exactly like it was wrong either. When a child is raised the way he was, with so much support that it’s suffocating, one can only grow to be good at what they were told they were meant to be doing. Volleyball as a toddler was meant for the happier times, a memory locked away as nothing but a feeling of nostalgia, never to be completely remembered again. Volleyball as a middle school player was an endless beginning, the very first point of a journey with no real possible end. Volleyball as one of the best among kids of his age, proven by the strength his high school team was known for and the fact that he was already on the world stage as well, could only ever spur him on to keep the momentum. Keep climbing, he would be reminded. Never stop. That’s how you reach the peak. Whether he would break after all that or rise to the very top was never even a matter of discussion. The way to the top was the only one there was. Looking back down and allowing himself to just freefall until the top becomes a distance almost crossed but never reached wasn’t ever an option. Wakatoshi could only ever aim for the very peak.

So, Wakatoshi, how’s volleyball as a pro?

The feeling of a dream-come-true that never was a dream, he might say. But him and sentimental descriptions simply didn’t really mix much. You were the one filled to the brim with those kinds of words. Maybe flowers laced the walls of your chest, maybe when God kicked Adam and Eve out of Eden, he left the garden to grow and flourish within your lungs, maybe you unknowingly raised every single Godly creation and so you were blessed with the power to create as well. You were full of flowery words, that’s what he knows. He would listen to every single one of them, count every petal, water every plant, kiss every one of them in their full bloom, and watch as sunlight filtered orange sets on all that you are. He’s always liked plants. But yours were his favourite.

So he wonders why the point where he could no longer listen to your words had to come. Why he looked at you and only felt the kind of fondness that comes with familiarity but not exactly love. Why the way your hands entwined with his no longer fills his chest with warmth. Why the abyss he spent trying to fill before you arrived (and made him realise maybe empty spaces were never meant to be filled to feel full but instead filled to feel warm) now feels extremely cold again. So maybe things like love do end. And maybe he made promises too soon.

So maybe when you told him about your mother and father and about how they made promises too but couldn’t come through, and when Wakatoshi thought you won’t ever be the same, he was wrong. Maybe one of them realised letting go when love no longer feels the same is better than letting their hands stay entwined when there’s only numbing coldness left to be felt. So maybe it’d do you better for him to let things end. From this point onwards, whatever he does will only ever hurt you. Because you crave the kind of affection that won’t ever end, and how he wish he could keep giving that to you, but he just no longer can. And staying with him who, for whatever fucked up reason the cosmos came up with, can no longer find the love he spent years sharing with you, is something he would never wish upon you.

This fucking hurts. How he fucking wants to keep loving you. What the hell happened?

After you left, Wakatoshi skipped training. He felt bad for eating the omelette when you cooked it to wish him luck. But he ate it anyway, wondering if he will ever see you again. And if so, will he feel find himself feeling the way he used to? And if yes, would you want that?

How do feelings work anyway?

You get to work right away. Still feeling heavy and hurt, sobbing at times, you keep collecting Wakatoshi’s things from your apartment. There were a lot. You were both comfortable with sharing your spaces with each other anytime you both wanted. Sometimes leaving things behind caused problems like that time Wakatoshi left his jersey in your apartment and only realized on the day of a game. You had to head to the gym earlier than you usually do, thankfully having washed the clothing a few days before. It’s actually there again, you find. His Schweiden Adler jersey in your closet among the pile of his other shirts and pyjamas. You put all that and other things into a box and close it up. For now, you’ll clean your place and get some sleep. You slept late last night and you woke up too early. Dealing with lack of sleep and the taxing feelings of ache after a breakup was too much. You were exhausted.

The moment you lie on your bed, you feel yourself falling asleep. And then you do. World gone.

You wake up at around lunch and take a short shower. You dress up, carry the box of Wakatoshi’s stuff, head out, lock your door, and go on your away to Tendou’s chocolate shop. You weren’t friends with him before you met Wakatoshi. So, you guess, maybe this will be the last you see him too. When people lose others, they either prefer to keep remembering or completely forget. For your sake, you’d rather be the latter.

Tendou’s shop isn’t close enough to the train station. You have to walk a few more minutes before you reach it. The box you’re carrying isn’t exactly heavy but you still feel sluggish even after that nap. You stop by a café to gather your wits and rest a bit. When you meet Tendou, you know he’ll greet you brightly. Toshi wouldn’t have told him that you broke up just yet. You realised long ago that unless asked by people, Toshi would rather not say anything most of the time. His silence was one you grew used to. Now you have to get used to not being around it anymore.

When you enter the chocolate shop, you see his red hair behind the counter right away. Quite the opposite of Wakatoshi, he’s lively and loud when he wants to be. Like right now, as he’s talking to a costumer, excitedly helping them choose one of the products they’re looking for. You wait until he’s done, just sending him a wave when he sees you, smiling. When the costumer leaves, you head for the counter and place the box you’ve been holding on top pf it.

Loudly, as you expected, he says, “hello! What brings you here? Haven’t seen you in like, three days, I think? You need anything? Where’s Wakatoshi-san? He’s not with you? Why?”

His barrage of questions won’t be left unanswered. But first, you nudge the box toward him. “Uhm, yeah, haven’t seen you in days. I… uhm, I’m here to ask you to do something. Related to Toshi-kun, of course, and well, why he’s… not, uhm, here…? With me?”

You stutter a lot mainly because you don’t exactly feel like announcing that Wakatoshi broke up with you. Tendou simply seems extremely excited to see you and even hopeful to see his best friend too but right now, you just feel like crying all over again It’s like you just can’t run out of tears. You just know that after this, you’ll go home and sob the rest of the day away. Breaking up with Wakatoshi hurt you a lot.

The redhead urges you on, concern beginning to appear on his face. What with the way you’re stuttering and fidgeting when you’re usually so comfortable around him and other people, it’s easy to tell that you’re not feeling too well. Clearly, something must have happened between you and Wakatoshi.

“So… we… kind of broke up…?” the lack of certainty in your voice makes it seem as though you’re still unsure if things really did end between you and the pro-athlete you’ve spent years with. But with the way Wakatoshi told you his reasons for breaking up last night, and how he didn’t want to keep hurting you because you’ve already talked to him about two other people who met and fell in love and did many things and yet still fell out of it but tried to hold on for too long that they ended up tearing each other down until even their daughter started to break with them until it’s just one tiny family with sharp shards for hearts, only capable of hurting each other and nothing more (some daughters grow up wanting to be anything but their mothers and fathers). Of course, Wakatoshi never mentioned that story, but you both knew that when he said he knows he can only really hurt you even more if he lets things run as they always did, he meant, we’re not your parents. We won’t tear each other down. If you go now, you’ll be okay enough to not be the person you’ll come to hate.

The only thing you allow Tendou to know is that you and Wakatoshi are no longer dating and that you’re both okay with it. You leave it at that, and when Tendou gives you a hug, the pain in your chest runs up your throat and you start crying again but that’s alright because Tendou reminds you that you’re sad and hurt and crying makes sense and crying helps and crying is fine and maybe crying makes it hurt a little bit less. He pats your back and says nothing after that, simply letting you calm down.

Before you leave, you purchase a few sweets because Tendou told u it’ll help. Chocolates and sadness work too well with each other.

–

The last time Wakatoshi remembers talking to you was around a year after your breakup. He and his team known to be one of the bests of Japan lost against the bests of Argentina in the Olympics. The world stage wasn't a strange new world to him and neither was loss, but for the first time in many years, the man found himself burdened by the weight of too many regrets.

He knew then that maybe it wasn't exactly losing against Argentina that made him feel this way. Maybe the emptiness he so desperately filled by pouring too much of his days into training and playing was finally there to break him. Maybe the whole time he was thinking he was getting there, not knowing where, only hoping to keep going because he just doesn't know where he can stop to lay his pieces down, he was only distracted enough to not miss the warmth you brought with you which you took with you when he broke your heart. And so when he lost that game, he questioned what could possibly keep him going. When does this journey end? Until when must he keep going? His parents never told him when he was younger. All this time, he only knew to keep forward. Now that he has won one too many games and finally lost one of the most important games he could play, he finds himself wondering if he should stop here now.

And because you knew him too much, you just had to, you know, be that rock that kept him steady even after he hurt you. He went and broke your heart for reasons he himself still cannot really explain, like how the fuck he knew he was no longer in love with you, and why the fuck is he still missing you, and is God playing with him right fucking now? So you just had to call him when he was all alone in his hotel room, mind messed up in so many ways. Your voice just to had to be there. To tell him, you did so well today. To be honest, I haven't watched much of your games recently but I felt like I just had to watch this one. And it was so awesome. It makes me wanna start watching you play again. You're amazing, Wakatoshi-kun. I'm so proud of you.

And then a year later, Wakatoshi finds out that you finally published the novel you’ve been working on since way before he met you. In the first message you sent him, you attached a picture of your book, saying, look at the name on the cover. are you proud of me yet? I am too<3. Better grab yourself a copy before there's none left, right? He couldn't say for sure why you decided to message him about it. It wasn't like you stayed in contact, both of you aware of how much you preferred not facing the past if you had the choice. That time after he lost against Tooru Oikawa's team in the Olympics and you gave him a call was because you're just that kind. You're just that amazing.

But like many things he'll never understand, he just lets this one be. So what if you told him about your book? He should be thankful enough that you even decided to tell him about it. So he goes and buys a copy and reads it as soon as he gets home. It's not like he's big on reading. But he just really likes your words.

Epilogue

...and if someday we find ourselves in a universe where soulmates are filled to the brim with not only stardust but also pure serendipity, I wonder what kind of mark we would have. I kinda wish it'd be that one where ink on my skin gets inked on yours too. Then maybe it'd be so much easier to tell you all the secrets I've been trying to keep. Like how I spent too many years regretting not succumbing in that green lake back home or how sometimes I bleed all over in red angry lines running down like red angry tears, and how much you made me just want to live because you just made me feel loved the most of all. Because maybe you were my finallyfinallyfinallyfinally before you were my whywhywhywhywhywhy.

The End

A/N

Hello. I deeply feel how flawed this fic is but that's fine. I'm still learning how to write stories because I've been writing prose more than anything else. So stories like this do kinda scare me. But I still hope you liked it and thank you so much for reading it!!!!

also, not proofread. it's p hard for me to reread my own works so im v sorry for any mistakes and stuff. if u find any mistakes and whatnot pls pls pls tell me. thats all i hope u enjoyed this v much shouldve stayed in the drafts fic. mwa!

taglist:

@lordmypantsaresocool

@annoyingpessimist

@ushijimacentral

#ushijima reader insert #ushijima x y/n #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima fanfic #ushijima angst #hq ushijima #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu angst

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 23 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Mild exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub, light choking, degradation/praise, sub space Word Count: 7.3k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

Waiting for Spencer Reid was an interesting position to be in. It was also, unfortunately, very, very common. You would think the IQ points would translate to efficiency, but you’d be very wrong. The only thing that boy does fast is read, and even that didn’t follow through to text messages, considering he’d read none of the six I’d sent him in the past hour.

So, naturally, as one does in an emergency, I called him. Unsurprisingly, the phone barely rang a second time before he picked up. Talking was, as we were both aware, his forte. Without even waiting for my greeting, his groggy voice came through the receiver with a song-like sound.

“Hello, little girl.”

But it wasn’t his turn to sing, and he knew damn well why I was calling. I could hear the smirk on his face so well that I could also envision exactly what he looked like in that moment, with his fluffy hair sticking up from constantly running his hands through it and his eyes only half-open as he tried to finish reading whatever horrible thing that he had in front of him.

It wasn’t how anyone should be spending their birthday. Especially not him. There wasn’t really anything I could do about it, though that didn’t make it any easier to hear the exhaustion and sadness behind that scratchy voice.

“What’re you doing up late? It’s past your bedtime, you know,” he chastised before I even had a chance to speak. He wasn’t wrong — It was 3AM where I was. But where he was, it’d just hit midnight.

“I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to my favorite old man,” I purred back once I’d managed to calm my fast-beating heart. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the brief rush of adrenaline and relief when I heard his voice for the first time after some time away.

I hoped not.

Spencer didn’t seem impressed by my reasoning, though. “You’re sweet. Go to sleep.”

“You’re up, too,” I whined, still picturing the way he would undoubtedly pull the phone further away to lessen the noise. I almost asked if he was also picturing me but stopped when I realized that whatever he had in mind was probably a lot more exciting than reality. Then again, he often told me that moments like this were his favorite. When we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open but too happy to be with each other to let them close all the way.

“Barely,” he corrected.

“Besides, I had to stay up. It’s your birthday.”

I’d meant to lift his spirits, but the long pause after I finished made it evident that my efforts were for naught. He almost seemed even more upset than when he’d answered, and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that hard, considering he was probably staring at images or words of dead people.

“Yeah, sure feels like it.”

His tone alone ensured me it was worse than my imagination.

“Put your work down and pay attention to me instead,” I suggested as softly as I could with the neediness bleeding through, “That’s the first part of your present.”

“You’re my present?” he asked through a gruff laugh that made my heart skip a beat, “I like that present.”

He was trying. I could feel it in his voice, and I wished more than anything that I could teleport to where he was and hold him until it was too difficult for his mouth to form a frown.

“You already have me. That’d be like regifting,” I pointed out with only a pinch of self-deprecation. It was still too much for Spencer, though, who swiftly shot back the ever cheesy, “Every day with you is a gift.”

“Gross, don’t get all sentimental with me,” I ordered playfully.

He returned the energy with all the sass I always knew he was capable of. Once his whining ceased, he mumbled, “Do you come with a gift receipt?”

“No returns or exchanges allowed, I’m afraid.”

Spencer just let out a strained sigh, and in my head, I imagined how it would feel to climb onto his lap as he leaned back in his chair. I could almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist and his lips peppering kisses wherever he could reach. I could feel his love for me flowing across the country, persisting past the cell tower obstacles to make its way back to me.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered, his first purely sincere statement of the night.

It was an unfortunate choice, too, because it also reminded me of the biggest bummer that I unfortunately had to share.

“Oh, I meant to tell you, it’s midterm season, so…”

He was, thankfully, not as bummed as I was expecting. He was almost certainly thrilled to have a chance to sleep spread out on his bed without having to satisfy the very needy girl beside him, but he still managed to come up with enough bratty energy to scoff, “Are you telling me that I don’t get my gift when I get home?”

“It’ll just be a few days. Promise,” I spoke through the biggest, cheesiest smile I’d had yet. “You’re very distracting, Dr. Reid.”

“When are your exams?” His enthusiasm gave away just how disappointed he was with the news, but any frustration was clearly aimed at my poor professors.

“My last one is on Wednesday.”

The gasp that left him was too funny not to laugh, followed by exasperated, blubbered nonsense that didn’t ever get much clearer. I barely managed to understand him when he cried, “Don’t they know Halloween should be a national holiday?!”

“You should call my professors and yell at them.”

He actually considered it for a moment, but then returned the same silly intonation, “Maybe I will.”

“Do it. You’re probably more qualified than them to teach me, anyway.”

After a short silence that was filled with more sexual tension than I’d expected considering how the phone call started, I heard Spencer gruffly comment, “You’re a cocky little brat tonight.”

It was so familiar to me that I jumped on the opportunity, giggling through my sleep deprived delirium, “I’m in rare form for your birthday.”

The explanation earned me a chuckle, but not much else. At least, not that I could see. The static on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like the way it looked when Spencer leaned his face against his palm and tried to see something that wasn’t there.

But I was there. Sort of. We’d done a lot more with a lot less, after all. So, that’s what I offered him.

“You know… we could have a redo of the last time I called you late at night on a case.”

“That did not end well for me last time,” he droned. I tried not to laugh at the manufactured memory of Spencer holed up in a hotel bathroom because he just had to have me in whatever way he could.

“Only happy endings for your birthday. I promise.”

But then, as it always did, work got in the way. Filled with only the greatest sadness and regret, Spencer quietly but honestly replied, “As much as I would love to, I don’t think it’ll be possible on this case.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Unfortunately.”

I bit my lip because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help Spencer with his work any more than I could fix the distance. All I could offer him was a safe home to return to. He would always find that with me.

“Well, in that case, I will be equipped with cartoons and kisses upon your return,” I offered with grace.

But I wasn’t the only one in rare form. Without skipping a beat, Spencer corrected with a smug sadness, “You mean your return. Considering you’re abandoning me on my birthday.”

“Oh my god, the drama!” I cried before remembering that it was, still, in fact, 3AM. The light grimace I gave after remembering would be the only apology my neighbors would get from me. I was too busy building a narrative happy enough to drown out the horrors in front of him. “You’d think I was the one who was away all the time.”

“I’m allowed to be selfish; it’s my birthday,” he sang, and I soaked in the sound, storing it away for any rainy days.

“Fine. What do you want, brat?” I asked in the worst attempt at an impression I’d ever given.

He was just waiting for the question. Drawing out the first couple of syllables, he laughed through the stupidest birthday wish of all time.

“I want… you to go to bed.”

“Ugh!” I yelled again, not even bothering to feel bad about it that time. My exasperation fell on deaf ears, both from a willful desire to ignore my suffering and a literal ringing from the constant yelling.

Still, that impossible man drummed up enough compassion to gloat with a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, jerk,” I grumbled, only to be swiftly corrected with a playful, “Try that again.”

“I love you, too, old man.”

He was satisfied enough with that answer, despite the sarcasm dripping from it. He still knew that the words were true, and that was all that mattered. Any punishments that might be necessary for my broken promise to behave for his birthday could always be doled out later. When the distance between us was narrowed to inches and clothes could be removed like cheap wrapping paper.

“Thank you, little girl. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, reminding me once more of just how empty my bed felt without him. I stared at his pillow for just one second before I threw myself into it. He chuckled at the sound of rustling sheets over the receiver but said nothing else.

“You get some sleep tonight, too, okay?” I asked, uncharacteristically and openly vulnerable in a way that used to scare me.

Spencer’s voice was filled with pride and love as he answered, “You can’t see it, but I am giving you a pinky promise.”

“Good.” Burying my face in his pillow again made it easier to remember that it wouldn’t be forever when I said, “Bye, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, little girl.”

—————————————————

Autumn on campus felt pretty similar to the rest of the year. I wished that it were different, a little more exciting, to reflect how I felt about the impending holiday. But no, it was just students stumbling into their usual classes and hectically scheduled midterms with hangovers and a total lack of holiday cheer.

It was, in a few words, a complete bummer. The only thing that kept me going through the last of my exams was the knowledge that I’d be seeing Spencer. Unfortunately, he was still doing that rather annoying thing where he refused to answer my text messages. It wasn’t until he ignored even my most ridiculous threats that I realized something was going on.

The ‘Read’ notification sat menacingly on my screen, and I was so fixated on it that I almost didn’t notice the familiar mop of brown curls visible in the front row of the auditorium. But once I saw it, the phone was forgotten faster than ever before. I ran down the steps at a ridiculously dangerous pace, dodging the others still grumbling from their previous exams.

I landed in front of him with only enough breath left to sneer, “You’re in my seat.”

“Surprise,” he said with my favorite smug, self-assured smile.

“Adorable. Now move,” I ordered with a wave of my hand. As much as I loved the guy, I wasn’t about to change my seating arrangement for him. It was beginning to make sense, though, why my friend told me that she wouldn’t be sitting with me today.

“Fine,” he sighed, taking his sweet time moving seats and watching me happily bounce on my feet in the meantime. I snuck behind him into the seat before he’d even fully stood up. That little amount of friction between our bodies seemed to be enough to cause the tension to mount. It’d only been seconds, but I was already seriously considering abandoning the class. To hell with the professor who’d already seen me.

But Spencer’s eyes locked on mine, and he leaned onto the armrest with that same silly smirk.

“It’s a workday, Dr. Reid,” I whispered, forcing my arm next to his and watching the way his pupils grew as I came closer.

“I might have pulled a few strings,” he replied just as quietly, keeping the illusion of secrecy despite many prying eyes around us, “Might’ve told Hotch I was invited.”

“But you weren’t,” I snorted.

Spencer’s head hung in just a little bit of shame, but his wide smile never waned. It was still there, bright and pure in its simplicity as he softly admitted, “Yeah. I lied. But I’m here now.”

There were no complaints about that fact, either. His pinky reached out to mine, twining together in the dim light of the auditorium. Somehow, for a brief second, I forgot about everything else. The noisy chatter meant nothing to me, the two of us lost in some alternate pocket universe that felt safe and warm from the cold air outside.

But time resumed, and I watched as Spencer took his eyes off of me first, turning instead to the lecturer watching us with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Good morning everyone! We have a special guest with us today.”

I wanted to pay attention to his little introduction, but I couldn’t. Every word that was said about him sounded so clinical. It felt so empty compared to the truth I knew about him. He was so much more than a collection of publications and PhDs.

He was… indescribable. Even as his mouth formed a flat line and his awkward handshake was granted to the crowds of disinterested students, all I saw was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even if it was only from the shadows of his greatness. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever let me feel that way.

Speaking of…

"Dr. Reid, the only thing I ask is for you to give these wonderful students a chance to show you what they know,” my professor started with a laugh before he so kindly continued, “So go easy on them."

In any other situation, I might have let it slide. I would have accepted the fact that Spencer was far beyond my intellect and not stand up for myself. But this time, Spencer was on my turf.

"All due respect to Dr. Reid, I don't think he needs to go easy on us,” I called from the front row, only audible to the other dutiful students that cared enough to sit up front. I heard Spencer laugh beside me, shaking his head just a little bit at the challenge. He didn’t say anything though, and I returned my eyes to the professor who was already familiar with my antics as I boasted, "At least not on me."

While Spencer caught on to the fairly obvious double entendre, shifting his crossed legs closer, the professor just wrote it off as my usual academic pride.

“I did try to warn you that that one might get competitive,” he commented. At this point, everyone had definitely figured out my relation to the man next to me. It was kind of hard to hide a bullet wound from your school. But again, I was so caught up in the man beside me that I didn’t even feel a little shame at their playful teasing.

Spencer’s commentary was the only thing that mattered, and he gave it with a dreamy sigh. "I'm not offended at all. I'm sure she's very clever."

The little bit of light left in the room started to fade, and once I was shrouded by the shadows, I felt confident enough in my plan to dig through the bag at my feet to pull out probably the nerdiest item in it.

A fucking back-up clicker. Which, I promptly handed to the man beside me.

“You’re in seat B4,” I whispered gruffly, earning yet another snarky chuckle from my boyfriend.

“Is that a challenge?”

I didn’t answer. Not him, anyway. What I did answer was the question that had appeared on the screen.

“Ms. (Y/n)?” My professor called, recognizing my seat number without even looking up.

Luckily for me, today was nothing but a review day of the midterm I’d already taken. While I knew all of the questions and, what I’d hoped were the right answers, Spencer had to read the questions from scratch. Really, it didn’t give me an edge. It just put us on equal playing ground.

As I gave my answer, I watched in my peripherals as Spencer’s eyes narrowed and tongue peeked out from lips that I still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss today.

It was a bad thing to think about, because my brief reverie of the things that mouth was capable of reminded me of another one. I didn’t even notice another question had appeared on the screen, and when I heard the familiar buzz of an attempted answer, I shared my Professor’s temporary confusion.

“Ah, Dr. Reid,” he laughed, probably already regretting welcoming the bastard here, “Please explain the answer.”

But there was another thing working in my favor: My boyfriend’s giant fucking ego. Really, it should be impossible that someone who was normally super insecure could enjoy showing off as much as he did. My professor didn’t mind, because Spencer’s long-winded answer was a wonderful review of… basically the entire course, and I didn’t mind because it granted me the one thing I needed.

Time. Time to slowly remove my jacket and reveal the sweater underneath. Spencer’s eyes caught the motion, glancing over only a couple of times while he managed to give his answer. It wasn’t until I started to remove the sweater that he cut his answer short.

His throat clearing told me he wanted my attention, but I was still just too distracted for him. I fanned my chest that felt warm for reasons other than the temperature of the room, guaranteeing his eyes would stay there long enough for me to catch the next question before he had a chance.

Or so I thought. Because before the question appeared, I made the positively stupid mistake of meeting his gaze. As soon as I did, my mind was stuck there, drowning in molasses and honey and—

“Dr. Reid, please feel free to continue to do my job for me. Lord knows I would love a break,” the professor joked, and I almost felt guilty for just how genuine he sounded. Not like Spencer would have noticed passive aggression if it existed.

Not like either of us would have cared. Per usual, we were so lost in the space of B4 and B5 that we didn’t care about the rest of the alphabet. All we cared about was winning. It was growing more and more obvious to me, though, that I would have to become a little more ruthless if I wanted to bring down the bona fide genius.

The sound of his voice rang through the auditorium loud, clear, and confident. He didn’t need to worry if he was right or not, because he knew he was. The smugness was grating to my ears. I knew I couldn’t trick him into making a mistake, but there was one thing I could do.

I’d learned one thing very well in my time with Spencer, and that was how to manipulate that pretty little voice of his.

For example, if I wanted to hear it catch in his throat and come out a few pitches higher, all I would have to do is touch him. The riskier the touch, the higher his voice would go. Which was why I spread out the jacket over my lap, making sure that our legs were close enough that it covered him, too. Then I waited, calmly and kindly listening to him drone along until there was a natural enough inflection to hide evidence of any nefarious actions. Just as his voice started to rise, I slid my hand over his knee.

Spencer barely stuttered, just enough for me to know he was affected, but not enough for anyone else to notice. He took the loss with grace, quickly ending his answer with a summary that contained only half as many words as he would have normally provided.

He kept a few for me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shifting close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my ear.

“All’s fair in love and war,” I hummed. His breath caught again when I began stroking my thumb over his leg that had just started to bounce.

“This is wildly inappropriate.”

“How perceptive,” I returned with my own little smirk. The interaction caught us both, trapping us in the alternate dimension that existed when we held each other. His hand found its way to mine, and his thumb brushed over the back and sent goosebumps shooting over my skin.

I’d practically abandoned our pursuits altogether when I heard my friend’s voice as she took the question that we’d both missed. I should’ve been upset for losing after all that I’d gone through for my strategy to succeed, but it was hard to feel anything other than butterflies when Spencer was still looking at me like that.

Even when I looked away, he stayed, patiently waiting for me to take the final question in the review. I granted him a chance to take it, but he just shook his head, implicitly asking me to take the win for the both of us. Even when we were competing, we were always on the same team.

There were no more distractions as I explained the answer as simply as I could. I was positive the rest of the class was tired of hearing our voices, but Spencer never stopped smiling. I could feel the pride rolling off of him, his hand growing tighter around mine as he took in a deep breath.

“Very good, (y/n),” my professor announced, signaling the end and initiating a large sigh of relief from everyone else.

Spencer sighed too, although his was with a different kind of relief; a dreamy, soft sound as he muttered under his breath, “Just like I said. Very clever.”

The air felt positively electric, and I never hated my class more than I did in that moment. The rest of the period ticked by so slowly that I almost swore the clocks were broken. Once we were allowed to leave, Spencer insisted on sticking around to thank the professor for his hospitality.

I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I tried to be as patient as possible, even though it seemed pointless. Spencer’s little grin told me he knew very well what he was doing. The conversation had dragged on for practically five minutes of agony while I idled by the door.

But then my professor passed, and I felt the adrenaline course through my veins in seconds. As anticipated, we didn’t even make it out of the building before the tension broke. We’d barely even made it down the goddamn hallway before I shoved his scrawny ass into the first empty classroom I found. Once the door clicked shut behind us, the roles were quickly reversed.

I hadn’t seen him that excited in so long that I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in his undertow. I couldn’t keep track of his hands or his mouth as they marked any bare skin they could find. But no matter how frantic and uncoordinated the movements were, they never ceased to send chills down my spine.

“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” I managed to slur between sloppy, heated kisses. It was barely comprehensible through the pent-up lust that had driven us there in the first place, but it still felt worth saying.

Spencer, however, made his feelings very clear with a gruff, forceful, “I don’t care.”

His hands were already roaming over my hips, pulling me so close to the edge that I nearly fell off the counter entirely. While I was laughing at his haste, he was busy leaving angry marks on my collarbone, pulling the top of my shirt down to grant him more access. And despite how badly my body burned with desire and need, I drummed up just enough self-preservation to force out a few, regrettable words.

“Take me home.”

Even though I tried to make it sound more seductive than a normal request to stop, it brought the momentum to a halt. Spencer immediately stopped his kisses, but let his hands continue to stroke loving patterns over the sides of my thighs.

“Don’t you have other classes?” he asked. The feeling of his breath against my ears making me second-guess my already voiced decision. But as enticing as the idea was of having him now, having already waited over a week, I knew we could have so much more fun with a little bit of privacy.

“Don’t you have work?” I teased, hoping that it would spur him to take the action we both knew was safer. At the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to poke fun at the academic in him.

“Unless this is your way of telling me you've always wanted to fuck a girl in a lab because, I must admit I'd be more than happy to oblige."

Spencer’s whole body tensed as he imagined just what it would feel like to take me in such a public place. After a couple seconds that I can only imagine were filled with fantasies and a reasonable fear, he pulled me from my seat on the counter and placed me back on the ground.

“Let’s go,” he said, pulling me by my wrist towards the door.

I only barely managed to stop him with both hands on his arm. He turned back to look at me like I’d done some horrible thing, but I was too busy trying to stop the laughter that was spilling from my chest.

“You’re uh—” I cleared my throat, pointing to the very noticeable tent in his slacks before I keened through the giggles, “You’re gonna have to do something about that.”

With a quick glance down, Spencer remembered the very unfortunately obvious trait of the male anatomy. “Fuck,” he stated plainly.

I couldn’t resist.

“I mean, I’m down,” I joked one final time.

“Shut up!” Spencer laughed, too, trying and failing to adjust himself in his pants while I just enjoyed the show.

After all, we both knew that once we were alone, he would get a reprieve from my ridicule. He would get whatever he wanted.

—————————————————

The chaotic clashing of hands and mouths continued seconds after we’d reached our destination. The empty apartment had all of the sounds of our desperation echoing back to us, and after soaking in the melodious noise for a few seconds, I snapped back to reality.

“Okay, she doesn’t get home for another 30 minutes at the earliest so, we’d better hurry,” I urged, trying to shove Spencer off of me to convince him to move. It barely worked, with his arms clutching tighter the harder I struggled to get away.

Wrapped together just like that, the two of us barely made it a few feet before we almost tumbled to the ground. That was just enough of a reminder of our lack of coordination for Spencer to finally, begrudgingly, release me. Kind of. His hand still held tight to mine, and our laughter still combined the whole way to our bed.

From there, Spencer felt confident in our privacy to answer, “That’s fine. I usually tear open my gifts pretty quickly.”

It was a very good metaphor for the way his hands worked over my clothes. I didn’t even try to pinpoint the moment where being naked no longer made me feel nervous. I let the scar tissue show because neither of us were going to look at it, anyway. We were too caught up in the slight shifts and nuances of our faces as we rushed towards our one mutual goal.

“I missed you,” I mumbled, the words feeling as natural as breathing itself.

“I missed you, too,” he returned, and I felt the raw emotion, the sincerity and desire in every syllable. But once it was over and he had finally managed to remove everything but my underwear, all that was left was an all-encompassing, mind-altering level of lust.

“God, watching you in class was so fucking frustrating,” he strained, his upper lip curling with disdain as he watched my body squirm against the sheets.

“Why’s that?”

“I wanted you so badly.”

There was no denying that it was the honest truth, and I didn’t even want to try. I wanted to gloat and bask in the confirmation that his presence was dangerous for my academic career. Not to mention my sanity.

“Like I said. You’re very distracting.”

Then, to prove my point, that brilliant bastard shoved his hand under the band of my underwear. He only held me softly for one second before he slid his fingers through the slickness and thrust them roughly into me. It hadn’t been that long, but the emptiness I felt before was even more apparent now that I had any part of him inside of me again.

“Am I?” he chimed with a smile.

I wanted to be bratty, to fight the tension that was building and appear unfazed by his ministrations, but there was simply no pretending. Not when my body was already on the verge of spasming around his fingers that seemed to stroke the perfect place within me with every movement.

“Jesus Christ,” I sighed. I should’ve known better than to give him ammunition.

“You’ve resorted to blasphemy already?”

Spencer partnered the tease with a ruthless thrust, burying his fingers to the knuckle inside of me and holding them there. He waited until I ran out of breath and struggled to take another while also trying not to scream in a mixture of frustration and devastating need for more.

“I thought I told you we had to hurry?”

“We’ve got time,” he shot back without pause, “You’re just being a needy little brat.”

“Yes, I am,” I whined just as quickly, “I’m a fucking brat and I need you.”

He almost seemed disappointed in my compliance. His fingers began moving again, eliciting noises that were louder, higher, and sweeter after the anticipation. He tried to draw the attitude out of me by stopping again, waiting for a quip that didn’t come.

“Awww, no fight?” he cooed.

“I can’t. It’s your birthday,” I grumbled before biting my tongue. The pressure was becoming so unbearable I thought I might honestly draw blood. But after another few seconds of torture that felt like a lifetime, Spencer withdrew his hand completely.

He was testing the limits, watching how far I would let him go before begging. But even when he took the same soaked fingers and began rubbing me from the outside of my underwear, I only opened my mouth to steal quick, soft breaths and give pitiful whines.

“Oh, I like this…” he laughed, apparently having gotten past his concern about my sudden compliance, “I could get used to you behaving.”

The song-like cadence got to me, threatening to spark and ignite everything I was holding back. I almost bit back. I almost let the desire scorch my throat with a few choice words for the very rude genius, but I didn’t. The only thing that stopped me was the feel of cotton sliding down my thighs as he removed the final barrier between us.

“You’d miss my misbehaving,” I said with a chuckle. The sound mixed with another, a deep moan that filled my chest when I felt him press himself against my entrance. My back arched, causing him to slip inside of me just enough for us to both lose our words.

“I don’t know…”

If I’d wanted to say anything, my mouth wouldn’t have let me. It was too busy singing his praise while simultaneously begging him to silence it. My lips floundered for a kiss that he hung just far enough away from me to deny. Satisfaction was painted over every feature as he started to enter me, brushing his lips against my mouth every few seconds just to pull away before I was granted the intimacy I sought.

“You do look rather cute when you’re begging.”

It was strange, the way my body started to predict his movements. I met him in the middle of every motion, and I swore even our breath became synchronized in its rapid firing. It wasn’t until his hand rested over my throat we broke the rhythm. I wasn’t going to complain, letting the energy flow down my spine that arched towards him on instinct. His hips never stopped, and I could tell by the way his breath hitched and his fingers grew tighter around my neck that the new angle was as wonderful for him as it was for me.

“You look so sweet when you let go of every ounce of self-preservation and dignity you have and put your life in my hands,” he whispered with an affection that almost seemed odd considering the context. But then there was something else in his moans, a genuine gentleness that made my already arrhythmic heart beat faster.

“You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” he asked as his movements stayed calm and careful. Loving and safe.

I didn’t even notice my eyes had closed, but it ultimately didn’t matter. Because when I opened them, I saw the same man that existed in every image behind my eyelids. The only indication he got that I was still capable of communication was the gentle curve of my lips that dropped open in a pleased sigh as his hips continued a slow, tender pace.

It still felt like too much, but not in a bad way. It was too much in the sense that I was reminded once again just how ruined he’d made me. And the smug little shit knew it, too.

“You don’t have a single thought in that pretty little head, do you?” he cooed, dragging his hand up the column of my throat to force his fingers against my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to fight back. I soaked the digits that still tasted like me with my jaw left open. His pupils dilated as he watched the spit pool in my mouth that awaited his instruction.

“You just want to be used. Like the perfect little doll you are.”

Unlike my own, his smile was more of a smirk. A crooked, ever so slightly wicked quirk that made my muscles tense around him in their own version of an affirmative answer. He took it, happily. His body crashed into mine, but it merely felt like an extension of myself returning home like the waves meeting the shore. I could feel him claiming his rightful place at the deepest parts of me, making his home with every powerful motion of his hips.

I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I didn’t want to. It felt unnecessary.

“My sweet little girl,” he muttered with an unbelievably chaste kiss in the center of my forehead, “You’d do anything to make your daddy happy.”

I felt detached from myself in a way that didn’t feel me with fear or pain. I could feel myself through his hands, strong and working the pliable flesh of my thighs as he held them up so that he could drive into me harder.

His eyes, also only half open, burned with intensity. I could feel the determination, the undying desire to grant me a serenity that no one else could. His need for me to feel safe and loved with the seemingly contradictory brutality.

But it wasn’t contradictory. The power behind every movement, the insistence on being as close to me as he possibly could, might have caused some physical pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of sharing this space with him. Of sharing my body with him just to see what he would do with it. I already knew, but I wanted to feel it again and again. Because with each stroke of his hand and thrust of his hips, I felt it.

Spencer had free rein to do whatever he wanted, and he chose to love me.

“I’m so close. You know what I want,” he pleaded despite holding all of the power. He handed it to me with a low groan, trying to kiss my lips while he commanded, “Do it. Come for me.”

My body obeyed his command, falling to pieces around him with shockwaves breaking over every inch of me. My vision went white, crafting a halo of light around him as he also found himself reaching a peak that seemed different than the times we’d shared before.

I tried to figure out what had changed, what about this time made it unique. But as the euphoria faded, all I saw staring back at me was the same face as always, radiating a joy and understanding that warmed damp, chilly skin. Spencer’s release provided a similar warmth within me, and my body clung to him even tighter despite the exhaustion.

My breathing took its time to even out, but I was in no rush to leave him. I would have stayed like that forever, with Spencer covering me like the silliest, boniest blanket. If it wasn’t for the dead weight he eventually dropped on me, we probably would’ve spent the whole day lost in the covers. But he could thank the scars for me being a little less forgiving.

Of course, thankful is not the word to describe him at all. Whiny was more like it. Even as I turned our bodies together so that I would still be sitting on his lap, he did nothing but groan and bitch about it. That is, until I silenced him with a kiss that barely brushed over his lips.

That was enough to turn his frown back to the dopey smile I loved so much.

“Happy birthday, old man,” I purred, enjoying the way his hands grabbed me tighter at the loving nickname. But age wasn’t what was on his mind. I could see it in the way his eyes tore past my defenses and he held me closer like we could actually become one if he tried hard enough.

“I’m so in love with you, it’s infuriating,” he whispered.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

Spencer wasn’t in a joking mood, though. All of his humor seemed to be expended earlier in the day, and now he was just left with all the mushy, romantic innards that I normally kept at bay.

It wasn’t that bad, though, I thought as his hands framed my face so our foreheads would touch. There were worse things to be trapped with.

“It’s true,” he mumbled with his voice still high and slurred together, “I look at you and there is just… nothing that can be said that would ever explain the way it feels.”

“Gross,” I joked.

“Get used to it,” he returned. And if that wasn’t enough to make me laugh, he stuck his tongue out in the most childish display I’d seen from him since he’d fucking licked my hand on our picnic. It was also just charming enough that I was willing to let the sappy stuff slide.

“I’ll be nice to you this time,” I grumbled. “But also, speaking of time, you’d better hurry up if you don’t want to do the walk of shame with an audience.”

Spencer’s arms fell limp with a dramatic cry before he used them to cover his face once more.

“Ugh. Go,” he ordered. Despite his words, he still made me fight against greedy hands to wrestle my way out of bed. It would have been smarter to let me go quickly. I really don’t know what he was thinking, but he would learn his mistake soon enough. Because as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard a very amused voice chiming down the hall on the other side of the door.

“Good afternoon, Spencer.”

I debated not opening the door and freeing Spencer from the unbelievably uncomfortable position he’d just found himself in, but ultimately decided it was too cruel. Still, the stalling had taken up enough time that the poor guy felt compelled to reply.

And, of course, the only thing he could think to say was a pathetic, high pitched, “Hi.”

Somehow managing to contain the absolutely riotous laughter I felt in my gut, I opened the door with the straightest face I could muster.

It wasn’t enough. Spencer saw the pleasure I took in his humiliation and practically shoved me out of the bathroom to take my place behind the doors. While I found the action endearing in the most awkward way, my roommate was mostly just confused about how the fuck I’d managed to find someone as stupid as me.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” she said once she managed to smile at the silly situation.

Clearing my throat, I tried to sound sincere in my bullshit apology. “Me either, sorry.”

In a way, I think the fact I couldn’t pull myself together worked in my favor. Normally, she would have scolded me (albeit playfully) for not alerting her of what she might be walking in on, but this time, she just tried to withhold the smile that still stretched over her cheeks despite her best efforts.

“You’re fine,” she sighed, giving in to the desire to go against her usual grumpy demeanor before retreating to her own room. “Have fun, you hooligans.”

Once her door clicked shut, I heard shuffling on the other side of the door next to me. Spencer’s shadow was visible from the light peeking out underneath, and I waited a few more restless seconds before I announced, “You can come out now, Spencer.”

Cautiously, the door creaked open just enough for his head to poke out and confirm that I wasn’t trying to trick him.

“I’ve never been a hooligan before,” he said with a bounce in his step and his eyebrows halfway up his face. To think that he was the same man who threatened to arrest me for existing at a nightclub was, in a word, hilarious.

“Well, good news for you,” I purred, and the sound must have reminded him of my more devilish nature, because his jubilance quickly shifted back to an obvious anxiety. I wrapped my arms around him even when it meant that his muscles tensed, dragging him down so I could whisper in his ear, “I was just about to ask if you wanted to help me play hooky.”

“And do what?”

It felt strange to say that I hadn’t really thought about it. That the second I’d seen him I knew that the day would be good and free and fun. That everything felt so perfectly fine that I didn’t even want to challenge it with a schedule.

Spencer looked at me, his answer apparent in the way he started to relax the longer we stayed wrapped up in a shitty apartment hallway. It didn’t matter what I said. Spencer would have followed me, just like I would have done for him.

And without the angst or uncertainty of what could go wrong, there was only one thing left for us to do. With a shrug and pout, I proposed the riskiest plan we’d had yet.

“Whatever we want.”

—————————————————

| Finale |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #here to misbehave #h2m #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid series #reid series #spencer reid request #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #dr spencer reid #reid request

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l4verq · 3 years

Text

almost yours | s. r & b.b

pre-serum steve x reader, bucky x reader

in which you’re sure you’ll fall for bucky soon enough

warnings : angst, mentions of death, war, fights

fic : oneshot?

masterlist

|| gif by @go-fandom-imagines ||

“I can do this all day.”

You roll your eyes cause you know he can’t.

“No, he can’t.” You trudge in between the filth, your peep-toe heels doing little to help you walk.

On closer inspection, the man is clearly intoxicated. He has his hands squared up, body swaying slightly but firmly planted infront of Steve.

You know he’s already had a few punches in judging by the bruises on his knuckles and the cuts on Steve’s face.

Steve mutters a silent curse as he sees you walking up to them.

Why did you always have to see him in such a pathetic state like this?

You give a stern look at him like always and he can’t meet your eyes every damn time.

“Who are you?” The man slurs, the smell of alcohol almost suffocating you.

“His friend.” You lift your neck a little higher as you meet the man’s eyes, your heart beating out of your chest.

Friend. Of course, that’s what he is to you.

“Y/N.” Steve steps in between, shielding you from the man.

You’re about to give him a piece of your mind when you’re shoved back roughly, falling into a pile of trash.

“A broad should know better than to meddle in men’s business.” The man wags his finger before repeatedly hitting Steve who’s yelling at you to run.

You hastily unstrap your heels and fling it across with a smack against the man’s back.

But the punches don’t stop.

“Stop, you stupid geezer.” You scream, grabbing his hair and thrashing your arms around, hoping you get a solid punch in.

“Hey!” The man slips away from your grasp as Bucky grabs him and pulls him away from the both of you.

“Pick on somebody your size.” He snarls, ramming his arm into the man’s body, making him double over in pain.

The man staggers off and Bucky turns to face the both of you, anger evident in his eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it.” He objects as soon as you open your mouth.

“Steve, you good?”

“I’ll live.”

You two share a sheepish smile as Bucky helps him up.

“Okay, just so you know, this thing you guys have with getting beat up in alleys is stupid and moronic.” Bucky huffs, hands on his hips, foot tapping the ground impatiently.

“I was just trying to help Steve.”

“I didn’t need any help.”

“Says the guy who’s just had his ass handed to him.”

“Okay, funtime’s over. You have an aptitude test today, we can’t be late.” Bucky intervenes, retrieving your heel.

“Go to the hospital!” You shriek as Steve limps his way out.

He never stayed. He never could.

Because he didn’t like his thoughts when he’d see you and Bucky together.

Bucky sighs, kneeling on the ground, with your heel in hand.

He glances at you for approval before strapping on your heel for you.

“Thank you.” You mumble, a dull ache spreading throughout your elbows as the adrenaline subsides.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asks, concern in his eyes.

This is when you hate yourself the most. Disgusted with yourself because you can’t bring yourself to accept the unconditional love that he has for you. Disgusted that you keep telling yourself you’ll fall for him soon enough.

“I’m fine.” You lie, something fairly common to you.

“Still mad?” Steve sits next to you, hands shoved in his jacket.

You notice he did go to the hospital, judging by the white bandage on his hand peeking out.

“Maybe.”

He smiles but it quickly turns into a grimace, the cuts on his lips still healing.

“Heard you got in.” You continue, transfixed on his blue eyes.

“Had to see the look on your father’s face. Priceless.”

The two of you burst out laughing, his face contorted in a mix of pain and laughter making you laugh even more.

Your father, Colonel Chester Philips had made it clear on several occasions that Steve would never make it in the army despite your best attempts to convince him otherwise.

“Don’t forget about me when you get all buffed up and go off fighting scary men.” You joke, half serious.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

There it starts again. The stupid fluttering in your heart as you dare to think his gaze at you right now means anything more. And the guilt that floods in right after.

“You two take care of each other.” You both look over at Bucky waving at you from the registration office.

Childhood friends, you’d never known life without the two of them. And now both of them were leaving to possibly never return.

“We’ll be back before you know it.” He gives a soft smile because he knows how much you hate that he’s going too. How much you hate the war. How much you hate that your father’s never home.

He’d made up his mind about this years ago when he realised an asthmatic 90 pound man wasn’t exactly the ladies’ man but the butt of the joke and an easy prey for bullies.

And he didn’t like bullies.

But right now, the way you’re looking at him, his heart wavers a little.

“We are all set to go. You have been assigned to Camp Lehigh.” Bucky arrives, waving a form at Steve.

Your heart drops as it sinks in that they have to leave now. Tears spring to your eyes which you try to blink away.

“I’ll write you whenever I can.” Steve gets up, eyes glossy.

“You’d better.” You smile at him, an uncomfortable ache growing in your heart.

You almost give in to embracing him but the rock on your left hand weighs you down.

He lingers around for a while, perhaps thinking the same. But, he gives a smile, walking away towards the office.

“He’ll be okay,” Bucky reassures you, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Steve’s a tough cookie.”

You look up at your fiance, a lump forming in your throat.

“I’m going to miss you two.” You bite down on your quivering lip as a single tear trickles down your cheek.

God, were you beautiful, he thinks, gently wiping your tears away.

He hated leaving you, each time hurting quite possibly even more than the previous.

If you’d just ask him to stay, he’d leave everything right then and there all for you.

But you never do.

He leans in and you think he doesn’t catch the slight clench of your jaw but he does, everytime.

Each time, he rationalises it in his head, chiding himself for overanalysing.

Cause it’d hurt to think otherwise.

A ghost of a kiss on your forehead you barely feel as you force yourself to swallow the growing lump.

The mornings were tolerable.

A few chores here and there. Breakfast if you felt like it. Maybe drop by the salon, have a little chat with the girls.

You kept busy, finding faults in your own cleaning everytime. A spot you definitely missed while cleaning yesterday, you immediately attend to it, scrubbing away.

Sometimes, your father stopped by during the late afternoons, carrying a bag of fresh produce from the local market.

He’d little to say about Steve’s training, gruffly humming whenever you enquired.

Then, you’d have dinner with him, pretending that it wasn’t awkward having an empty seat across you that once belonged to your mother.

The last time you saw your father smile was during your engagement to Bucky. He’d pulled you in a tight embrace, wordless.

It wasn’t like this before.

He actually stayed home, smiled often and had a spark in his eyes.

But after your mother passed, it felt like he was just going through the motions everyday. Buried himself in more work, drowned himself in alcohol somedays.

You couldn’t blame him. You were no better, bottling up your own feelings.

But you wished he’d remember he still had you.

The nights were unbearable.

More often than not, you’d wake up in a cold sweat, heart still racing from the nightmares that plagued your mind.

Then, the worries’d take over.

The war was unforgiving and cruel and you’d pray every night that they wouldn’t fall victim to it.

The shiny rock on your hand catches your eye as it glistens in the moonlight. It’s a thin, silver band with a delicate diamond on top.

You felt like an impostor wearing it.

But, you’d gotten used to it. You’d just remember your mother’s wish, the way Bucky’s face broke out into a smile when you said yes and your father’s brief moment of happiness.

It didn’t help when you remembered Steve.

You don’t really know what you were expecting when you gave him the news. Maybe, you wanted to see if he’d be affected by it? If he felt the same way for you as you did him?

“I’m happy for you two.”

He had the biggest smile on his face as he tugged around with Bucky, teasing him.

But his eyes. You could swear you saw a flicker of sadness in them for just a split second or maybe you were just delusional, projecting your own feelings.

Most probably, the latter.

You pull the neatly folded up letter from your drawer, opening it for the umpeethn time.

Skimming over the scrawlings, your eyes land at the very end where Steve promises to return in the next few days.

You’d received the letter three weeks ago.

Your father’d informed you that Steve’d agreed to an experiment, where he’d be injected with a serum that would apparently make him a super soldier of some sorts.

“Is it safe?”

The grim silence that followed twisted your insides up into knots.

“We don’t know.” Your father grunted, the greying on his hair more prominent.

The following week he came bearing news of Steve’s successful transformation. That he’d grown two feet taller and more than a hundred pounds heavier.

You muttered a silent thank you to God as the coil in your stomach loosened.

“Do you want to see them?” Your father looks up at you from the table, eyes not leaving his newspaper.

He couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes. Not after he’d failed as a father. He’d done a lot wrong but the worst was dissappointing you each time you welcomed him back with a warm meal and forgiving eyes.

You nod, a small smile breaking out at the thought of them.

One of the few privileges that came with being the daughter of a Colonel was to be able to go to the Army base closed off to everyday people.

That evening, Bucky arrived, daisies in hand cause he knows how much you like them.

“For my daisy.” He’d say everytime, a grin plastered on his face as you’d roll your eyes, unable to hold back a smile.

You carefully place the letter back into your drawer and crawl under your blanket, hoping to cram in some sleep.

Travelling to Camp Lehigh would take the entire day on a train and you could never really fall asleep anywhere but your own bed.

Envy.

The green eyed monster that doesn’t seem to leave your shoulders as your gaze flickers over to them.

A total of atleast six different women have made their rounds, tossing their hair and giggling when he leans in to say something in their ears cause the music’s a little too loud.

But who could blame them?

Steve stood tall at an impressive 6.1 feet, a far cry from the 5.4 he used to be. Though clothed, anyone could see the mass of muscles bulging out, the suit straining whenever he raised his arm.

The first time you saw him, you were speechless.

Bucky had emphasized on the drastic change in Steve’s appearance but you were still taken aback, mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

Everything about him was so different yet his eyes still had that twinkle to them that you always swooned over.

You down your fourth shot in a row, throat burning.

Did she really have to feel his shield and kn-

“Dance with me?” Bucky gives a coy smile, eyebrow quirked up.

Taking his extended hand, he chuckles as you wobble sightly while getting up.

“Someone had a lot to drink.” He comments, guiding you to the dance floor.

A hand slightly above your waist, the other holding your own, Bucky was always a great dancer.

You always let him take the lead as he swayed you back and forth, always managing to expertly avoid stepping on your dress.

You start to regret the alcohol, your head spinning a little.

He seems to notice and lulls down to a gentle pace, holding you tight. You lean into his chest, breathing in the sweet musk that’s just so, Bucky.

He calls your name, barely above a whisper, which you probably wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t so close to him.

You hum in reply, head now leaning on his shoulder.

“Remember that time you got mad at me,”

“and you came crying to me, begging for forgiveness.” You finish his sentence, chuckling.

A throaty laugh rumbles from his chest as well.

“And we promised that we’d never lie to each other anymore.”

You lift your head, to see a soft smile playing on his lips.

“It’s time you kept that promise.” His eyes trails over to Steve.

The low tune that crooned on fades out as a ringing in your ears take over. You could only stare at him, paralysed.

It takes him everything he has in him to stay composed. But he has to do this.

“Tell him, before it’s too late.” He whispers, an urgency in his voice.

You shake your head, tears threatening to spill any moment.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about me.” He reassures you, taking your hands in his.

Shuffling bodies bump into you as you look away, incapable of holding his stare.

If only you’d known it would be the last time you saw him.

It’s the last thing he wants to do.

But he tells you anyway that he has to leave. That he needs to go.

Ever since Bucky fell to his death, Steve knew nothing but revenge. All he could really think about was taking down Hydra.

When you found out about Bucky, you’d done the same thing you always did.

Bottle your grief, pushing it down and down and keep busy.

Steve knew this too so he was patient, never poked around too much, lent a shoulder to cry on.

He often blamed himself, the event still haunting him at night, his own mind locking him in an endless tunnel.

But you’d always be there, at the end of it, a dim light that led him out.

“Just don’t die on me.” You whisper, hand grasping onto his jacket as he turned to leave.

This time, you don’t think twice before embracing him.

You want to keep him right there, safe with you.

And he probably would stay if you asked enough but you know he has to do this.

You just wanted to be selfish for once.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He wraps his hands around your waist, allowing himself to bask in your arms for a while.

As he pulls away, his face is so close that you can see the golden flecks splattered throughout his blue eyes, forming a psychedelic pattern that seemed to only hypnotise you.

He leans in before stopping himself, eyes flickering down to your slightly parted lips.

You can’t help but stare at his too.

But, the both of you awkwardly pull away, perhaps both appalled by their own selfish thoughts.

He couldn’t do this to his bestfriend ; you’d always be Bucky’s, not his.

As he leaves with the soldiers, the coil in your stomach tightens even more, heart sinking when he fades out of view.

You immediately station yourself at the air traffic controller office, where you man a radio transceiver.

It’s a large room filled with machines and a screen that displays the plane that he took.

It’s a long, long while before the transceiver crackles, a familiar voice blaring off it.

“Steve?” You grab it, almost jumping out of your seat.

The screen shows the plane heading north, further beyond the grid.

You think he called your name too but it’s barely audible.

Then, you hear it.

The whistling of the wind. The rattling of the controls.

The screen blares a warning when the plane doesn’t seem to stop going down.

“Steve, get out of there now!” You beg as it sinks in that he doesn’t plan to.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” His voice breaks.

“No, come back to me, please.” The room grows smaller and smaller as the air suffocates you.

A distorted reply arrives.

Your heart breaks at the thought of him all alone in that plane, headed for his death.

“I never really said thank you for all the times you beat up my bullies.”

You smile, swallowing the lump in your throat.

A surge of courage runs through your body as you say the words you’ve wanted to say to him ever since you discovered what love even was.

“Steve, I love you.”

But the line goes dead.

a/n : idk wtf this is, it was better in my head lol, might fk around and make this into a mini series😬 also tfatws🤑😈

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greenygreenland · 3 years

Text

Dream A Little Dream of Me: Norman x Reader (part four)

-part four because I couldn’t fit everything in part three-i went overboard, I’m sorry

-please enjoy I worked a month on getting this out, haha. it is a labour of tears and love.

---->PREVIOUS PART <-----

Summary: You need your memories back. But how will you get them?

Gracefield House

Not a single soul moved for what felt like centuries. The moment Ray, Gilda and Don arrived at the scene, it was clear that nothing else could be done. Mama smiled at her children viciously. She wasn’t here to play nice any longer. Today, she was the hunter and her children the prey.

“It was a clean break. She will recover smoothly,” Mama curtly announced. “And Norman?” You didn’t like the way she looked at him, or the way her grip seemed to tighten on your limp arms. Her gaze dangerously narrowed and she said, “Your shipment date has been set.”

Your heart stopped. Norman’s shipment date had been set? No, that couldn’t be. Your plan required at least another week until everything fell into place. Norman was the core of it all. Without him, what would you do?

And speaking of which, he was going to die. Die. Die. Die. He was going to die.

You squirmed in Mama’s grasp, hoping--praying that you could maneuver around this. Norman wasn’t going to die. You wouldn’t let him.

“Let me--let me go!”

It was reckless and it was stupid to think he’d be able to evade Mama’s sight just like that, but you had to try. Didn’t Emma say you’d all leave here together?

“Norman--!”

He blinked as if he’d woken up from a long dream. He forced himself to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. Don’t struggle.

Don’t struggle? How did he expect you to sit around and do nothing? If anyone should be shipped out first, it should be you. Why? Because you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you let any of your family go.

Mama glared down at you with a cold smile. “You can’t fight me more than you can stop the sun from setting,” she said, heaving you higher off the ground. Your leg hit Mama’s arm and a cry escaped your lips. Norman flinched and Emma stood frozen in place.

You were always the strong one, not Emma, not Ray, and not Norman. Because you were one of the eldest, it was your responsibility to be the shoulder to cry on and to stand when no one else could. To see you holding back tears and gritting your teeth tight enough to make your gums bleed made Norman’s little heart break.

He didn’t care about his shipment date. All he wanted was to see you safe.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of faces, voices and regrets. The sharp pain in your leg long faded, leaving only a dull throb that stayed as a reminder of your failure. Yes, that was what you were, right? You couldn’t complete the plan even with Don, Gilda and Ray distracting Mama. You were pathetic. A waste of space.

The door creaked open and you sat up a little straighter. You smiled at the trio as they entered the room. “Hey guys.”

“How are you feeling?” inquired Norman. He took a seat by your bedside and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Ray pulled up another chair. He hid his face behind his fringe to conceal his grim frown. It didn’t work though, and you merely smiled at him. He huffed irritably, as if he didn’t want you to know he worried so much.

“I didn’t think she’d go that far.” Ray quietly muttered. You knitted your brows together with a absentminded shrug. “And to think I was that close to getting her watch.”

Emma’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I had--”

“It’s fine Emma.” you said with a warm smile. “Broken bones heal, it’s not permanent.” She wrapped you in a tight embrace and you rubbed her back comfortingly. It was hard to look her in the eye anyway. The sadness she tried so hard to force down only added to your guilt, and you weren’t sure if you could think straight with all the regret.

“I’m sorry this happened.” you began. “Now that I’m hurt, you’re worrying for me.”

Emma pulled away as Norman gave a firm shake of his head. “None of this is anyone’s fault.” he stated. "None of us saw that coming, and even if we did, I’m not sure we’d be any good outwitting Mama on the spot like that.” He offered a gentle smile that made you feel just a little bit better.

-----

(University name), DAY TWO

Class went by rather quickly today, and maybe that was because you were sure you’d seen similar material before. Each answer came easily along with each mark on your paper like a memory from long ago. You’ve answered harder questions, much more difficult tests that held more weight than a simple grade.

“I was impressed by your extensive knowledge on world history,” said Mr. Baker. He was the world history teacher. Unlike the others, he was young, perhaps in his mid twenties. In the hour you’ve gotten to know him and the class, you’ve come to realise he’s a class favourite. For good reason, too. His jokes were phenomenal, the material entertaining, and the atmosphere, friendly.

It was like having a conversation between friends rather than teacher to student.

“Do you know what school you went to before you came here?” he inquired. You shook your head. “No. I don’t think I went to any school before this actually...but I’m not sure. I wish I knew, sorry Mr. Baker.” He offered a warm smile. “Maybe my jokes will remind you of something. In the mean time, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll remember eventually.”

Eventually. You didn’t want to remember ‘eventually’. Living a life of ignorance was difficult as it was, why should you continue it? You adjusted your grip on a notebook and said, “See you tomorrow Mr. Baker.”

“Same to you, Letha.”

The cafeteria wasn’t hard to find. Students crowded in the hallways, pushing and shoving as they stuck close to hurry towards for their meals. You didn’t care much for the food. There wasn’t any way it could measure up to your, or Gramps’s, cooking anyway.

“Letha!”

You spun around as much as you could in the congested hall. Flanna raised a hand above her head and waved. She didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was looking for you. “Letha, you comin’?” There was no way out of avoiding the red-head. She had too much energy, and an eerily observant eye hidden under her smile.

“Hello to you too, Flanna.” you said, matching her step. Flanna grinned brightly. “Are you excited for lunch? My first day here, I thought it’d taste terrible. You’d be surprised how good it is, but maybe that’s because the school’s expensive.” She let out a snort that was lost to the chatter of the crowd.

The cafe wasn’t all too big. Despite the long tables stretching out across the floor, and the high ceilings and tall windows, it felt small. Crowded. The sheer amount of teens gathered in one area was daunting, scary even. It made your head spin, and your stomach lurch in disgust.

Was this what everyone dealt with every single day? How could they do it? This was madness.

Flanna patted your shoulder and led you towards the lunch line. “You get used to it after a while. Can’t say I have, but it’s not so bad.” She handed you a cup of fruit from a large cooler. You watched as she did the same and instructed the lunch lady on exactly what she wanted.

You copied her. It was all you could do to prevent embarrassing yourself.

Once you found a table, a long sigh left your lips. “That was actually...a bit stressful.” Flanna chuckled good-naturedly. “Oh, I get it, you’re shy, aren’t you? I had a friend like that back in ninth grade when I still lived in the countryside. Couldn’t even go in line without help from me.”

“What happened to that friend?”

“Moved away. Lots of people do. They like the city because it’s “full of opportunity”.” Flanna rolled her eyes. “I think it depends on what you want. I’d prefer a quiet life where all I have to do is take care of a farm. You know, sheep, chicken, cows. It’s easy because the only person who’s your boss is you.”

Flanna clearly didn’t favour modern life as much as her peers. She went on about the difficulties of technology and how they were “nothin’ but trouble” for simple folk. You couldn’t say much about that, but you wish you understood.

The rest of the day went by in a flash. It turned out, your last three classes were with Flanna. She didn’t talk as much in class, but she asked you a lot of questions about why you knew so much. Of course, you couldn't remember, but she didn’t know that. She didn’t know who you truly were.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

The setting sun illuminated the sides of your face as you glared at the frosty grass below your winter boots. You stood outside, wrapped tightly in your thick, fur coat. It was Gramps’s daughter’s before yours, so it smelled like him. The forest. A cosy fireplace. Hot chocolate. It did little to comfort your aching heart, and maybe that was because a part of it was still missing.

Standing in the last rays of sun reminded you of that boy with light hair and kind eyes. It reminded you of his touch that refused to leave your mind. He was scorched there like an emblem on wood.

“So why can’t I remember you?” Your words were lost to the harsh, frosty breezes. “Who are you to me?” He wasn’t family, that much you knew, nor a friend either. He was much more. Much closer to your heart than either of those.

-----

This wasn't a massacre. It was the shambles of a bloody war.

The remnants of limbs and broken bones lay strewn across the throne room, where pools of crimson stained the tile flooring with its iron stench. Part of you wished you hadn’t opened the door, and another said it was your fault for letting everything get this far.

Would you have been able to stop Norman if you ran faster? If you had stopped him earlier?

Your stomach flopped and turned. The smirk painted on Norman’s lips wasn’t right. It wasn’t him. He was satisfied, not with the massacre, but with how perfectly his plan had been executed. It played out like a game of chess. Each pawn he sent out had been eliminated, leaving only the most powerful pieces on the checkered board.

“I’m sorry,” Norman said. “It’s too late (Y/n).”

He wasn’t sorry and he sure didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for lying to you. Or at least, that was what you wanted to believe. Every fibre in your body screamed at you to run at him, slap him to the moon and back, or beat him to a pulp for lying and cheating you all. Yet you couldn’t do it. Not with the way he kept his eyes to the floor.

“I’m so glad you made it back safely,” he added. “It’s a shame you were a little too late.” Your gaze lingered on his for a moment longer before you cast it to Ray and Emma. They stood strong with you, yet you had a feeling they wanted to waver just as much as you.

Emma stared at the sticky crimson under her boot, eyes wide in disbelief. “They’ve...they’ve all been...?”

“Killed.” Norman plainly finished. “They killed each other and they’re all dead now. The Queen, the nobles, the Giran clan. All of them.” Despite the pleasant way he spoke, you had a feeling he didn’t mean it. The Norman you grew up with--no--the Norman you knew wasn’t like this. He was kind. Gentle. Sweet. He cared for everyone and everything, which was why he chose to be shipped out in the first place.

And why he always chose to be the sacrifice.

You heaved in a deep breath. If this were the reality of your situation, you had to accept it. Ignoring Norman for who he was and what he did wouldn’t do a thing.

“I reforged the Promise.” You made your way across the room, eyes straight and head held high. The smug glint in Norman’s eyes vanished.

“Everybody can escape to the human world and no one needs to fight. You don’t have to kill anymore, it’s over.” That was what you wanted to believe with every fibre of your being. But was it really all over? Could you escape to the human world and leave this place after what’s happened?

Norman shook his head, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“It’s too late for that.” he plainly said. “No, it’s impossible. A monarchy that has lasted thousands of years has collapsed. Governance for the demons is impossible now. So is peace.” He glanced at the lifeless body behind him. “Iverk was the last one, and I killed him myself.”

You stiffened.

“We’ve put a lethal fissure in the demon society. A fissure that can’t be mended. All that’s left to do is,” he threw out a careless hand, “shatter it. All of the demons will die out. There’s just one more factor left. We can’t go back now. We have no choice but to wipe them out.” He straightened and it was like you were staring at a different person. There was no kindness in his eyes, or that light that you’ve relied on to keep you waking up every morning. “Don’t get in the way.”

You clenched a fist. “No.” Your voice came out strong, reassuring. “What is the point in wiping out a whole race just because we can’t see eye-to-eye? There’s hope and I’ve finally grasped it! For thousands of years, there’s been a cycle of slaughter and war that we have to break. I don’t plan on standing back, and I don’t plan on letting you become more of a murderer!”

Norman’s eyes were dark from under his cloak. “(Y/n)...”

You stood your ground. Defying him was the only way you could stay strong, the only way you could convince him. “We’ll find a way together! It’s not going to be easy, but I know we can do it!”

“(Y/n)...!”

“I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself again and I’m not letting you do this alone!”

Norman’s tight expression relaxed into an uncomfortably serene smile. “What are you talking about?” he lightly inquired. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m not going anywhere.”

You heaved in a sharp breath because he stopped telling you the whole truth ages ago. He stopped relying on you because he thought he had to do everything alone. “I can’t trust you. You’re a liar! You think you can fool me? I know something’s wrong with you, you’re just trying to hide it! Don’t underestimate the family you grew up with, stupid Norman. We can see through all your lies and tricks!”

You thought back to the day you walked into his office alone.

I know you Norman, don’t forget that.

It had been too long since you’d seen him and thought him dead. Too long since you were able to hold his hands in yours.

And because I love you, I don’t want to see you destroy yourself.

It was nice to see him again, yet there was something off about him. He hadn’t changed much besides growing as tall as a tree.

I admit, I don’t know why you act like you’re going to leave again...

The only difference was the hesitance in his stance. As if he were trying to hide something very painful in his chest.

...but I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.

Then he left your words open-ended, as if he knew he couldn’t possibly lie to your face like that. He knew you saw through him from the start. It was only a matter of time before he acknowledged it.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” you slowly inquired. “Because you’re so smart, you chose the reliable path. Because you’re so kind, you shoulder all the burden. I know you Norman, didn’t I tell you? You don’t want to slaughter the demons! And you don’t want to wipe them out either!”

That was the truth that shone in your heart. You wanted to believe in Norman because he always believed in you. If he didn’t then he wouldn’t have allowed you to go the Seven Walls. If he didn’t, then he wouldn’t have allowed you to walk without him.

“You shouldn’t lie to yourself,” you added. “What are you hiding? What are you so afraid of?” He raised a brow challengingly. “Afraid?” Norman wanted to laugh. “I’m not...”

“The Norman in front of me looks like a scared child.” You said it like it was fact, and judging by the way Norman’s gaze unfocused, you were right. He wasn’t just scared, he was terrified. Of the consequences, of how you would look at him again, of how the blood would never, ever wash off.

But it was okay, right? He was strong. Just a little longer and it would all be over.

You took a step forward. Norman firmly held out a hand. “Don’t come any closer.” His voice was void of any emotion, cold even. “I’ve come this far. I have no intention of turning back now.”

“Well that’s too bad!” you exclaimed. “Because neither do I! I’m not letting you go this time!” You grasped his hands in yours, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Yes, you’re strong, yes you’re smart and you’re amazing and all those great things, but you’re stupid too! And arrogant! Can’t you see that you aren’t alone? Don’t be afraid to believe in us! We’re here to share everything. The tough, the burden, the painful things and the scary!”

Emma nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve done that since day one. It’s what we’re here for!” Ray locked gazes with Norman. He wasn’t about to be left out of this, not after Norman’s little stunt back in Grace Field. “Don’t be so reserved either,” he added. “Just spill it!”

You squeezed his hands tighter and stood a little closer. “You don’t need to protect us anymore! We want to walk with you, not behind you!” Answers were simple, but the journey was everlasting and dangerous. You understood what it took to get here even if you weren’t walking in Norman’s shoes. It was difficult. Terrifying. But with all the accomplishments under your belt?

It was time to reunite with him.

“Your family and siblings are your friends.” added Ray. “We don’t want a future where you end up suffering no matter what the result is. And you? What do you want? What do you want to do, Norman?”

He pulled away and the warmth left your hands. “No, it’s no good.” he stated. “You’re already too late. I’m...I’m in a place where I just can’t go back. You can’t walk alongside me--”

“We know.” you interjected. Emma nodded. “About the poison, Mujika and Sonju...”

“And the experiment in the basement.” added Ray. A hopeful smile inched itself onto your lips. “See? We’re not too late. It’s okay to be vulnerable. If you’re the real Norman, then let’s lose our way together. Let’s struggle too, and laugh.” You held out a hand and Emma and Ray joined you.

“Let’s live together.”

Norman didn’t struggle to keep his cool. You re-called the look in his eyes, the same one you saw that night he was told his shipment date. He cried, not just because he chose to get shipped out, but because he was scared. For you. For himself. For his family.

That stifling look of serenity washed off his face. His lips trembled, his shoulders shook, and his eyes watered. You all wrapped each other in a tight embrace. No one deserved to face all the ages of time on their own, no matter what it was, and more than anything, you’d do that for him.

“But...” Norman’s voice trembled. “It’s too late. It's pointless because of the drugs we were forced to take. We don’t have much longer left to live--we can’t live on.” He collapsed to his knees in a heap. “Help me... (Y/n), Emma, Ray... Please...”

That was when all the puzzles finally fit. After laying in wonder for so long with thoughts that kept you awake until the sun rose, you understood. The hesitance in his walk. The way he tried to hide his sluggish step. The way he acted like he was running out of time.

“You’re dying.” The words left your lips before you could even stop them. “It’s...the drugs from Lambda, right?” Norman tried to suppress a sob, but it came out in a way that sounded like he was chocking on his own lies and tears. You took a knee, gently placing a hand on his cheek. “Oh, Norman.”

He couldn’t stand the soft look in your eyes, or the tone in your voice that was like a warm summer breeze. You should have yelled at him. Should have stamped your foot against the ground and growled and slapped him. Yet you knelt in front of him, caressing his dampened cheeks with a touch that said it would all be okay.

Norman wouldn’t look at you--no--he refused to because he was just as you said: a liar. Why were you so kind to him when all he did was lie? He said he’d let you go to the Seven Walls. He said he’d wait for you. He said he wasn’t going anywhere and that he’d live, laugh and do everything to be there with you, for you.

Norman wondered what a murderer like him ever did to deserve you.

-----

The grass crunched under your feet. Towards the brick walls you walked, following the sun as it lowered deeper and deeper towards the ground. You had to keep reaching for it. You had to see it.

In times of trouble, it was your beacon of hope, the last bit of your old life you were sure you could recall. No matter where you were, it was always the first thing you followed. Towards the light. Towards that ray of hope.

You came to a stop at the edge of the school grounds, right where the gates separated you from the outside world bustling with life. The occasional car zoomed through the streets, interrupting the quiet air with its incessant honking and screeching.

The sun disappeared over the horizon, bathing the skies in navy blue and purple.

“Excuse me.”

The voice was light, warm, polite.

“You should really hurry home. It’s not safe out here at this time, especially since we’re students.”

You stuffed your cold hands in your pockets. “I really appreciate your concern,” --you turned to face him-- “but I’m fine. Thank you.”

A boy with light hair and kind eyes met your gaze. Something about him reminded you of something--no--someone. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but the boy did. He’d never forget you, no matter how many lifetimes he lived.

“(Y/n)?” He was breathless, frozen in time as you awkwardly knitted your brows together. (Y/n) wasn’t your name. It was Letha, the name Gramps gave to you because you couldn’t remember your own.

Your confused frown made the boy’s eyes well with tears. You stared, watching as he slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a pained sob. He was a student here just like you, sporting the traditional sweater vest, white button-up with a tie, and black slacks to match. You’ve never seen him before, yet he looked so...familiar.

Gosh, why couldn’t you remember?

“It’s been over a year and,” he chocked, “I’ve looked everywhere. How could you--how could you do all that for us? You promised we’d live together, but you reforged the Promise and--and...”

The boy's knees wobbled, and out of instinct, you threw out your arms. He fell into you, right at the crook of your neck. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his tears must have been frozen by now. It was cold out here.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was small, fearful almost. It made the boy cry harder. “I don’t know you, but why don’t we go inside? There should be a cafe down there, and they’re open late, so...”

“I’m sorry.”

You paused.

“I’m so sorry.” he echoed. “I wish I was there. I wish--I wish it were me--but instead...”

You patted his back as if you’d known him for a lifetime. Maybe you felt bad and that was why you hadn’t shoved him off, or maybe, it was because having him in your arms felt so right. Familiar in a way you couldn’t put into words.

Your gentle touch made the boy’s sobs relapse. He curled into you, wrapping his arms around your middle like you’d run away. Like you’d disappear. There was something so nostalgic about this hug and the way you both had your arms around each other.

It had happened before.

“The Promise,” the boy muttered, “you made it in exchange for--”

------

Bright, blue sky stretched out as far as the eye could see. It was beautiful, and oddly calm. Perhaps a little too calm. After running through a maze of illusions and riddles you struggled to solve, you arrived in this place. Alone. The ground was like water, and with each step you took, it rippled and fanned out.

Someone sat in the middle of this endless sky and water, hovering over it serenely.

“What is it you seek?” the demon inquired. You stepped forward. “I want to reforge the Promise.” The demon’s single eye gazed straight through you, as if you were nothing more than a sheet of paper held to the light. “Sure, (Y/n).”

You pursed your lips together. He was unnervingly calm, child-like even, and you had a feeling it had to do with his ‘reward’ after the promise.

“So what is it you seek?” questioned the demon. “You must give me a reward as well.”

Yes, that was the catch. But what could it be? This demon was a being higher than anyone in the land, a god that once split the world in two. He transcended time, yet remained relatively simple-minded and difficult to read.

“The reward,” the demon fiddled with an orb in his hands, “hmmm... It would have to be something important. Ambition. Desire. What someone longs for. What I would want is something important to the other party. Will you make a wish despite that?”

This was for more than your family and Norman. You had people relying on this one choice, this one Promise.

“Yes, I will make a wish despite that.”

It all meant more than the world to you. You had to liberate your family, the children who were raised like livestock and mass-produced like wild animals. And the mamas who fought to survive--you had to think about them too.

“I wish for all the cattle children to cross over...”

They didn’t choose that life of suffering. None of you did.

“And after that, for it to be completely impossible to pass between the two worlds.”

The demon continued to stare. You stood strong and proud with the weight of all humans in this Neverland on your shoulders. If he granted your wish, then the tide would turn and you’d be able to save everyone and everything.

“I will grant that wish,” he said. “And the reward I want are your---”

----

“Memories?” The words fell from your lips in a hasty breath. More than anything, you valued finding them. It was the only missing piece in your heart. The last portion of the unsolved mystery.

This boy--whoever he was--talked about you like he knew you. Held you like you meant something. Said that name, (Y/n), like it were his life line. He pulled away with a sniffle, settling his hands on your shoulders with a loving touch.

“You don’t remember me.” He lifted a hand and raised it to place on your cheek. But he couldn’t touch you like he used to. Not when you looked at him like he was far away and out of your reach.

“You don’t remember me.” the boy quietly repeated. He began to pull away, but you grasped his hand in yours. It was warm, soft. “No, I...I’ve seen you before.” There was a pained look on the boy’s face, as if he thought you were lying to him.

“Haven’t we been through this before (Y/n)?”

No, said your mind. Yes, said your heart.

“You shouldn’t lie to yourself.”

Your grip tightened around his hand, but not enough to hurt him. “I...I do know you. You’re...” You shouldn’t lie to yourself. You shouldn’t lie to yourself. You shouldn’t lie to yourself. But you did know this boy, and all this time, you yearned to see him.

Remember.

Who was he to you?

Who were you to him?

Remember.

Remember!

“I can’t remember your name,” your eyes welled up with cold tears, “but I know I’ve missed you all this time.” You pulled his hand to your cheek as he brought you close. The scent of parchment, aged books, and the woods. Yes, that was nostalgic, so much that it felt right. The final piece, fragmented and broken, began connecting again. It brought the dots and the gaps you tried so hard to fill together.

But something else was still missing.

The boy pulled your head to the crook of his neck and rocked you from side to side in the moonlight. Even the hazy streetlights were drowned out by the stars. You liked to think it was because this part of the city was quiet, isolated, from the rest of the world. And the rest of your worries.

“Norman.” he said.

You looked up at him.

“My name is Norman.”

“And mine is...(Y/n)?”

“Yes,” he said with a bittersweet smile. “I think the day I fell in love with you was when you got excited about something Ray told you. Ray is our family if you’re wondering, and so is Emma, and Gilda, Don...” He told you about people you once knew, and the life you once lived. Some parts he left out, and others he kept.

But you wouldn’t have known. Not when your memory laid in fragments.

“...And so we looked for you. I didn’t think you’d be here, but I’m glad you were.” He laid his chin on the top of your head. “You used to joke that I’d never be taller than you, but now I am.” A sad chuckle left his lips. “I wish things could be different and that you--”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a flash of red hair. Your head began to pound and you nuzzled closer into Norman.

“What’s wrong?”

“My head hurts.”

He ran a hand through your locks, arms folded close around you as he hummed a sweet tune. It was sad, melancholy, and the only one you’d ever known your whole life. “I know that song.” you mumbled. Norman smiled softly. “Mama used to sing it to us all the time. When Ray had nightmares, she put him to sleep with this song.”

The pounding in your head increased and you squeezed your eyes shut. “I did too. I sang...to you.” Norman’s lips parted, but he settled on a nod and smiled instead. “You remember?”

“I think so.” The memory was hazy, as if someone were trying to make you forget for good. But you fought that urge, held on to the image of a room with white sheets and bed lined up side by side. “You were...talking to me...about a...I don’t know...”

“Go on.”

“You were crying late at night...so I...I sang to you.”

Norman kissed the top of your head. When he was in Lambda, locking in that room all alone running through test after test, he held fast to that memory. It kept him from giving up on what he fought for, and kicking the bucket for good.

“I missed you so much.” he wistfully whispered. “You can’t leave me again, or else you’ll break my heart for good.” You looked up to meet his watery eyes. “Why would I leave?” Norman shook his head. “It was in the Promise, wasn’t it? You can’t break it.”

The pounding began to fade. You tiredly smiled, but it was warm and thankful and happy. “That won’t stop me, Norman. I don’t think I could live without you.” He warmly chuckled, intertwining his hands with yours. “Me too.”

And it was then that you began to feel a little more complete, a little more you from then. You were sure you wouldn’t have to dream another little dream of your wodeerful Norman any longer, for he would be right by your side, where you both belonged.

You released his hands and cupped his cheek. It was a natural act you didn’t even have to think twice about. When you were you, you had done this more than a thousand times. Your lips connected in a sweet kiss. He tasted like coffee and tea rolled into one, and you had a feeling it was because he couldn’t choose which was better.

“I love you.” you said. He warmly smiled, but underneath, it was almost sly. “I love you too. Why don’t we do some catching up?”

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#tpn emma #tpn norman x reader #tpn norman #tpn manga #tpn ray #emma the promised neverland #ray the promised neverland #norman the promised neverland #the promised neverland #ynn #ynn ray #ynn norman #ynn emma #anime x reader #anime

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taikova · 3 years

Text

@dafterwho Hmm, thank you for the critique but i actually strongly disagree with your characterisation of both steven and his and connie’s dynamic. because, with all due respect, i think it doesnt do justice to what connie and steven are about At All.

even though the caption was sort of a jokey one, because originally in my head they were talking about something much more serious (with connie trying to make him see something differently, either to cheer him up or to give advice, or getting on the same page by voicing the problem), i think it’s still within character in the scenario of the caption. so, since you came at me with your small critique, let me address it:

1. Steven cares about the media he consumes and absolutely has the emotional range to be disappointed in something. he had his problems with camp pining hearts! he has arguments against connie's assesments of the same story they read! On top of this, as he grows up even during the original series, he becomes more and more critical about peoples actions towards others. SO, if this was about a movie that had some harmful messages that he’d be upset about, he’d be very disappointed even if he wouldn’t analyse it like connie could. As a teenager he's even less inclined to be purely loving about every single thing, even if he has the predisposition to like most things. plus he has personal grumblings about the dogcopter VI movie in Future because it hit where it hurts, so i imagine he’d be very disappointed about a terrible movie if he had looked forward to it! Steven is more than capable of it as a character.

2. not even one of steven and connies interactions involve connie talking and steven only living to worship her and everything she says. especially about opinions on media. this whole thing is like, clearly explored in "open book", and based on that episode, i don’t think steven loves to hear long negative rants about a movie he LOVES (even a bad one), even if it’s connie making good points about it. if they agree on them it would be a different story, like i imagine it’d kind of be in this art. they’re on the same page, steven is a little more disappointed and sad and connie is trying to cheer him up by talking about the flaws.

3. even if steven pretended to like something for another persons benefit as he’d be likely to do, i like to think connie AT LEAST is a person he can express his real feelings to without worrying about hurting her feelings over media they both want to see. even if he has strong feelings about it, which he absolutely, demonstrably within canon, can have. Again, open book explicitly makes these two work through this kind of a situation, and implies their dynamic gets better about it. i find it strange how you couldn’t imagine them both leaving a movie night disappointed, or even have steven be the most disappointed party. i can imagine him being very attached to a franchise like dogcopter and being disappointed in an installment of it because, for example, his favourite relationship got trashed.

what i want to address here is that, Steven doesnt exist just to validate Connie’s nerdy smart characterisation by worshiping the ground she walks on, just like Connie doesnt exist just to be there for steven to gawk at, even if they openly admire things about each other. that is NOT what their dynamic is about. they are both actually very multi-dimensional characters.

so... your critique is kind of strange to me, and while the scenario about steven being interested in what connie is saying about a movie they just watched and admiring her smart points is likely, i think your objection to my art reminds me of the weird fanon characterisation that steven couldn’t possibly have a critical thought of his own and becomes this dumb arm candy boyfriend when he’s with connie. i know many fans of these two like to imagine their dynamic weirdly one-sided and simple but they are friends with sometimes wholly different feelings on subjects, who talk about things on equal grounds and sometimes help each other see things differently!

this is long and my willingness to write it mostly stems from me feeling like people get Steven and Connie’s dynamic consistently wrong in fandom. i just think i wanted to point these things out since they’ve been bothering me. you gave me an excuse, so thank you for that!

i hope my tone here doesn’t come across as harsh, i’m trying to go for an analytic text asdjfas

#analysis #replies #dafterwho #connie maheswaran #steven quartz universe

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etherrealoblivion · 4 years

Text

We Both Know

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer Reid is a virgin. Which he is totally fine with! The problem? He still hasn't told his girlfriend, Y/N, for fear of being teased. When he tells her, her reaction is ... surprising, to say the least.

A/N: Season two Spencer. Season two team. Prepare your self for all-knowing Gideon. Fulfilling this request. for @gublergirls. “~” indicates a POV shift.

tags: Dom/sub, unprotected sex, choking, first time, Virgin!Spencer

RATING: EXPLICIT

Words: 7,014

MASTERLIST

Spencer Reid had never done anything remotely sexual before.

Okay, he’d kissed before. Once. In Highschool. On a dare. For half a second.

Okay … so he was pretty inexperienced. Which he didn’t mind at all! The one downside was he was now going steady with a wonderful, amazing girl who he was definitely falling head over heels for, and he had no idea how to tell her.

Luckily, they’d already been working together for about a year before they started dating, which made the shift to a relationship much easier. And them being together didn’t affect their job performance at all. For the most part…. So all Spencer had to do was avoid bringing up his … lack of experience, around her. Things were pretty good.

But things, in Spencer’s experience, had a way of turning sour.

“Hey, Spencer!” she found him standing outside of the elevator after work one Friday, standing up on her tiptoes and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Y/N! We’re at work!” he muttered, glancing around as a light blush formed on his cheeks.

“Nobody’s here! It’s fineeee,” she whined, pulling off his glasses and bringing him down into a real kiss.

Woah. She’d never kissed him like this before. They’d only been dating for a couple of weeks now - though their relationship felt much older— and she’d pretty much only given him chaste kisses with very little tongue.

Not because she didn’t want to! In fact, she had said multiple times that she did, but Reid wanted to take things slow and he’d expressed this to her once they’d started dating. She had told him she respected his boundaries no matter what and she was ready to wait for as long as he needed.

Clearly, though, she was starting to get a little impatient.

“Let’s go home,” she said quietly, pulling him into the elevator, Spencer staying silent the whole way back to her apartment.

He was trying to think of another excuse that was reasonable. She had told him over and over again that they could take things as slowly as he needed. But still, there were scary thoughts lurking deep in his mind that kept telling him to hold back, to keep distance between them.

If he told her he was a … if he told her he’d never had sex before, surely she’d make fun of him. That’s what everyone always did. Would she be any different?

“Spencer?” she took his hand as they entered, very carefully leading him back to her bedroom.

“I, um … I have to finish some paperwork for-”

“Spencer,” she sat on the bed, slowly removing her blouse, revealing a dark red brassiere with a beautiful lace pattern. He unconsciously licked his lips. “I know you wanted to take things slowly, but … maybe we can try something … new tonight? If you want?”

She reached to the front of her bra where the clasp was, snapping it open and letting it fall down her shoulders, Spencer’s eyes feasting on her full breasts.

His shock must have been very apparent on his face because she stood, slowly pulling down her work pants and moving to stand right in front of Spencer, her hands dancing down his chest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

“Is this okay?” she asked, watching him carefully.

His eyes were blown wide and his mouth slightly open. The words froze in his throat, terrified to say anything.

But he hadn’t said yes, so she stopped, waiting for him to answer.

“Spencer?”

“I … I can’t, Y/N.”

“Okay. Can I ask why? You don’t have to answer.”

He backed away, feeling idiotic and ashamed. She’d never want to be with him once she knew….

“I’m…. I’ve never….”

A look of realization glanced over her face, sending a spark of sadness through Spencer’s heart.

“I should go. I’ll see you at work.”

“What?!”

She had reached out, grabbing his arm and holding him back. Spencer sighed.

“You want to end things between us, I understand.”

Surprisingly, she chuckled very softly, pulling him down to sit with her on the bed, sliding her blouse back on.

“Spencer, why would you think I … Do you really think I’d want to end things just because of that?”

“Well… yeah,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You deserve someone who knows what they’re doing. You deserve someone who can actually make you feel good. I’ve never…. I can’t-I can’t do that.”

“Oh, honey,” she tilted his face up to hers, smiled warmly, and planted a tender kiss right on his lips.

What was she doing? Why wasn’t she laughing and kicking him out?

“Spencer, I don’t care that you’ve never had sex before. I mean, I kind of thought maybe, anyway. You can tell me this kind of stuff, I’m not going to judge you. But, I understand if you aren’t ready. Spencer, I’d wait years for you. And don’t you dare think for a second that you don’t make me feel good!”

The neurons in his brain were firing at a million miles a minute. She really didn’t care? She still wanted to be with him?

“Really?”

“Yeah!” her smile could power every lamp in Washington D.C. “Plus, it’s not like there’s either having sex or not having sex. There’s a lot of in-betweens I’d be happy to work with, if you wanted to, of course.”

“What-um-what do you mean ‘in-betweens’?”

“Well, um … there’s-there’s oral-” Spencer jumped slightly at the word, bouncing the bed, “Or we can just touch each other? There’s so much between kissing and actual penetrative sex. Maybe, tonight, we can just kiss for a while, and if you wanna take things further, let me know, okay?”

Spencer nodded, following her as she pulled him further up the bed so they were lying side by side.

“Can I kiss you?”

He nodded his head and the moment he did, she surged forward, their lips meeting yet again.

God, she tasted so good. Spencer could do this for hours and hours and not go any further. She was intoxicating and he was addicted.

However, his hands moved under her blouse of their own accord, gently sliding up her stomach and hovering over her breast.

“Can I. . . ?”

“Yes,” she whispered in his ear, the sound sending a shock down his body to his groin and he moved his hand to cup her, moaning into her mouth at the feeling.

Unconsciously, his hips jolted forward, making contact with the top of her thigh. A low grunt left his mouth between them and he thrust again, gently grinding against her.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes, baby,” she whispered, “Actually, just put … there,” she sighed as she adjusted so that his leg was between hers, now grinding up against her thin panties.

To Spencer’s surprise, and delight, she began moaning and writhing, pushing herself closer to him, throwing a leg around his hips and yanking him against her so their clothed crotches finally met. Simultaneously, they gasped, forming a steady pace of gently grinding against each other.

Emboldened by her sounds, Spencer dipped his head down to the crook of her neck and lightly kissed. At her insistence, he deepened the kisses, starting to suck on the skin, leaving little red patches behind as he went lower.

When he reached right where her stomach stopped, he looked up, asking for permission to continue. She simply nodded, lacing her fingers through his hair and pushing him lower. A plethora of curses and moans left her as he gently licked a stripe up over her panties, thighs tightening around his head.

“Fuck, Spencer,” she groaned, trying to pull him closer and closer with each swipe of his tongue. “Wait, you’ve gotta stop!”

He snapped away, terrified he’d done something wrong but was quickly met with her tongue meandering around his mouth, coaxing moans and gasps from him.

He gently pulled back and moved to the side of her.

“Did I hurt you?”

She laughed, not meanly, not teasingly, but warmly, like he’d said something endearing.

“No, baby. Actually, you made me feel really good. I, um, If you’d have kept going I’m not sure I would have been able to stop.”

“Oh… Well, um, we can-”

“Spencer,” she spoke sternly but with a wide smile on her face. “As much as I’d love to do some horrible, amazing things to you, I don’t think it’d be a good idea to do that tonight, okay?”

Clearly that was the right call, judging by the wave of relief that washed over him when she said it.

“Okay,” and they cuddled up to go to sleep, peacefully slipping into dreams of future possibilities.

Sure, you were surprised when he’d told you, but it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen it coming. Countless times on cases, he’d freeze up at the word sex, or opt for a more clinical descriptor such as coitus or intercourse. At first, you assumed it was just to do with his innocent nature. It made sense; he wasn’t the type to go bragging about various conquests after a late night.

But, surely, he must’ve done something before.

I mean, he was twenty-four. The statistics spoke for themselves; for god’s sake, Spencer probably had them memorized.

And even stranger, the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. He’d been twelve when he’d graduated high-school. Went to college at fourteen. Probably never really had the opportunity to … befriend … people his own age.

Of course, he didn’t need to worry at all. You weren’t going to judge him one bit. In fact, you were ashamed to admit the prospect might have gotten you the tiniest bit excited.

All the men you’d been with had done it before with countless women, including your very first time. The only serious boyfriend you’d had was the one you hadn’t gotten the chance to sleep with yet. Spencer.

The thing was, if he hadn’t told you, you probably wouldn’t have known. There wouldn’t be any reason to believe the way he’d touched you last weekend wasn’t the millionth time he’d done it. He had moved with such tenacity, such nimbleness. Though there was a sureness, a confidence that was missing from his movements. He wasn’t lying. He’d never had sex.

Actually, that wasn’t what he’d said. He said: I’ve never… and then trailed off.

At work on Monday, as the elevator doors opened, you found yourself wondering to what extent that ‘never’ went.

“Hey, Y/L/N,” Morgan called from the bullpen, holding up a coffee and nodding his head. “It’s got your name on it.”

Thankful for the caffeine, you took the cup and gulped down as much as you could stand. The hot liquid went down your throat smoothly and produced a wonderful placebo effect of instant energy.

“Thanks, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Morgan slapped you on the back and said, “My woman! Who’s the lucky guy?”

Right. Neither you nor Spencer had told the team about the two of you yet. Hotch, of course, was aware, making sure you signed the necessary papers and had you assure him it wouldn’t affect your job performance were things to go south.

But the rest of the team was blissfully ignorant as to the true nature of your close relationship with the good doctor.

“It’s not like that, Morgan. A damn car alarm was going off until two a.m.”

At that moment, Reid walked in gulping down his own beverage, an extra one in his hand, dark circles under his own eyes which remained partially closed as he sat and yawned.

“Woah, looks like Pretty Boy, here, also had something keeping him up all night, though I’m hoping he got a little more action than a car alarm.”

Spencer and you exchanged a worried look. Because, in fact, he had also been kept up by a car alarm, the very same one you had. So he needed to think of another excuse before it became apparent that the two of you had very similar reasons for insomnia.

“No, sadly. Just a bit late because the bus was slow and the fatigue is due to noisy neighbors who were probably getting considerably more quote-unquote action than I. Prentiss,” he handed her the extra coffee cup which she took gratefully. “Got you a latte.”

Suddenly, you felt someone’s eye boring into you. Looking to your left, you saw Gideon looking at you strangely.

Shit. Reid didn’t take the bus anymore, a fact he’d let slip a couple of days ago, prompting lots of questions from Morgan. Surely the Gideon wouldn’t miss a detail like that, being the seasoned profile he was.

Luckily, J.J. was there to save the day.

“We’ve got a case.”

And you were off before Morgan could question why you were able to hear a car alarm from your seventh-floor apartment uptown.

Once in a while, the team got a pretty open and shut case. A rare unsub would come along who was sloppy and left enough clues to have you home within a couple of days.

This wasn’t one of those times.

Spencer, as always, was working hard on the geological profile, mapping out the areas where the unsub had been killing. Normally, the work would have come easy to him; he could work the case like he always did, narrowing it down to a science, a pattern, a formula.

Which would have been easy if not for the fact that his secret girlfriend and partner was wearing the lowest cut tanktop on the planet.

“Hey, can you hand me a pen?”

And as she spoke, he made the mistake of taking his eyes off the map, coming face to face with Y/N, her chest far too on display.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah,” he muttered, handing her the closest pen and gluing his eyes back down to the chart under the guise of inspecting the distance between crime scenes.

“Spence, are you seeing this?”

He looked up again reluctantly, trying to prepare himself for the sight of her.

“Look at the victim’s shoes,” she pointed to the drawing board where the mangled corpses of the first four women.

“Red Adidas, converse all-stars, yellow sandals, and pink Gucci pumps. I don’t understand, those are all very different shoes.”

He turned to her and was surprised to find a shocked smile on her face.

“What?”

Smirking, she said, “Okay, you are explaining why you know so much about women’s shoes later but now,” she yanked the pictures of the shoes off of the board, placing them on the map and leaning over it, her cleavage so exposed Spencer could have looked straight down her top … if he was a creep, which he wasn’t. He wasn’t. He wasn’t!

“Spence! Look at this. Each of the shoes matches the crime scenes, right?”

“Sure, pumps outside a nightclub, Adidas on a hiking trail—”

“Right! But the thing is, they don’t match! The woman found outside the club was wearing sandals. The woman found on the hiking trail had on, guess what—”

“—pumps.”

“He’s switching their shoes!”

He smiled brightly at her, happy they’d finally got a new lead. Sadly, the tight red tank top drew his eyes towards the curve of her breast far too enticingly. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering what she’d look like splayed out underneath him, writhing like she had last weekend, begging him to fuck her. He wondered why that thought was so enticing.

Oh god, she was looking at him.

“Nice solve, Doctor.”

He glanced away, warmth flooding his cheeks and busying himself with dialing Garcia’s number, quickly spouting off what they’d found and asking her to relay it to the team. When he turned back, Y/N was smirking at his, arms crossed, pressing her breasts together every so subtly.

“Hey, Spence?”

He gulped, struggling to maintain eye contact.

“Yeah?”

She stepped so closely to him, their lips almost touching and Spencer silently thanked the local cops for the private room. When she spoke, her breath ghosted over his neck and her whispers in his ear were enough to cause an uncomfortable growth in his trousers.

“Hand me a pen?”

Motherfucker.

You weren’t an idiot, you knew the effect the tight red top would have on Spencer. What you hadn’t expected, though, was how much he’d let it show.

Every now and then, you’d wear a slightly more … form-fitting … outfit for the sole purpose of messing with him. He’d never really shown much indication that he noticed before…. Until now.

He had ogled you like a teenage boy seeing cleavage for the first time. You swore he licked his lips twice the usual amount.

Had something changed? Was your top too low cut? Oh god, had you gone too far? But he didn’t seem to mind the teasing before. Something had changed.

Oh.

Oh!

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Gideon shooting you a look from where he sat across from you. The plane was dead silent but for the soft whirring of the engine. Most of the team was asleep, Spencer included. You and Gideon were the only ones still awake.

“Sorry,” you muttered, attempting to hide your face in the book you’d been pretending to read.

Gideon didn’t respond but you could feel the intensity of his gaze from behind the hardcover.

Setting your book down, you shot him a very accusing look, shrugging your shoulders.

“What?”

It was the most incriminating word you’d spoken to him in the past ten minutes. You could tell just from the way his eyes narrowed that he was putting two and two together, although you didn’t know what the twos were.

When he finally spoke, it was to say something you’d seen coming from a mile away, though that didn’t make it any less surprising.

“Reid doesn’t take the bus anymore.”

You glanced away, damning yourself even further.

“Oh, yeah, he mentioned that a few days ago. Why?”

For an FBI profiler, you were a shit liar. You knew it and Gideon knew you knew.

There was a very long silence where he simply analyzed you, not in an intrusive way, but as though he was a faraway observer who could read your smallest movements like they were words on a page. His whole birdwatching thing made so much more sense now that you were the one under his gaze.

Gideon was a man of little words, making the ones he chose to speak all the more impactful.

“He’s a gentle soul. Be careful.”

After a moment of floundering, the reality hit you that this wasn’t a man worth trying to fool. Gideon knew. And when Gideon knew, there was no trying to convince him otherwise.

The case had ended amicably, the unsub captured after the fifth casualty but before he could kill the sixth. There was a strange sense of relief, pride, and guilt coursing through Spencer on the way back home.

Falling asleep on the jet helped, but only temporarily. The moment he got home, he jumped in the shower, hoping to wash away any memory of the horrible murders he saw on a daily basis.

The water pressure at Y/N’s place was heavenly. He hoped she didn’t think he just stayed the night so often because of that. Although, her apartment was much nicer than his. She was so nice to let him crash whenever he wanted, and he was always happy to return the favor.

He wondered what other favors she’d return. About this same time last week, he had his head buried between her thighs, licking up her—

Fuck. Now he was hard and he couldn’t bring himself to masturbate in her shower. The irony was too much, even for him. So, like a very sexually repressed gentleman, he turned off the shower and dried himself off, wrapping the towel around his waist and stepping out into her bedroom.

He really should have jerked off.

Because Y/N was sitting on the far side of the bed, letting her hair fall loose from the bun it had been in for the past few days, kicking off her shoes, and slowly pulling the tight red tank top up and off of her torso, revealing an equally red lace bralette.

He really should have jerked off.

She turned toward him, a smile lighting up her face at his appearance.

“Hey, Spencer. You okay? You look a little … red.” She narrowed her eyes and the word and puffed out her chest ever so slightly. A less experienced profiler may have missed it.

Finally realizing he hadn’t answered her, he grunted, “Yep. I’m okey-dokey. A hundred percent. I’m great!”

He cringed, knowing she’d pick up on the overcompensation.

She, being the awesome profiler and friend she was, did.

“C’mere,” she pat the space on the bed next to her, and Spencer was drawn to it like a magnet. He was a bit worried about the lack of clothes shared between them and the fact that he was sporting a rather persistent half-chub, well hidden under the fluffy white towel. Y/N had the best towels.

“What’s up, Spence?”

She was so perfect. Not perfect as in like, no flaws. But perfect as in, if her flaws could be personified, Spencer would hug and caress each and every one of them. To him, she was a treasure. She was perfectly imperfect.

“I’m okay, really, just … got a lot on my mind.”

She broke eye-contact at that, making Spencer start to think that she understood how he was feeling a lot better than he’d assumed.

“What about you? Are you … okay?”

“Yes. Yeah, I am. Just thinking about something Gideon … well, it wasn’t quite said, you know?”

Spencer chuckled. He knew all too well how a simple look from their mentor could speak volumes.

“Yeah, I know, but … it seems like there’s something more to it?”

She sighed, laying back and resting against the overstuffed pillows, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. Uh oh. Usually, she only did that when she was really troubled.

“Spencer, I need to tell you something. I feel awful because I’m not sure if you’re ready to hear it and I don’t even know if it’s ready to be said. God knows how the hell I’ve waited this long. I’m sorry if this is too much but …”

He froze, heartbeat quickening, and preparing himself for the inevitable bad news-slash-heartbreak. Y/N sat up and stared at him intensely, sending a jolt through him.

“... I love you, Spencer.”

You weren’t sure exactly how he’d take it, but this is pretty much what you’d imagined.

“W-what?”

“Spencer….” you took his hand, lightly stroking the back of it and trying not to pull away at his tension. “I love you.”

Before you could go into a long rant about your feelings, his lips were on yours, followed soon by his body, pinning you down and kissing you with a passion you’d never felt from him before.

But he was off of you just as quick as he’d come, a terrified expression on his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

You pulled him back towards you to shut him up, shoving your tongue in his mouth, impatiently deepening the kiss. This time, he didn’t hesitate to let his hands roam your body, lightly trailing up your sides causing you to gasp breathily.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” you chuckled softly, “although,” you gently moved his hands down his bare torso, resting on the top of the towel, “you can if you want to.”

His eyes widened and you reached around your back to unclasp your bra, tossing it to the abyss next to the bed.

“W-what?”

“I saw the way you looked at me this week.”

Spencer twitched, breaking eye contact but staying close, unsure of what to say.

“How-how was I looking at you?”

His eyes were glazed over and you could feel his hardness against your thigh, pressing against you with only the towel between you.

“Like you wanted me,” you whispered into his ear, moving a hand under the towel and snaking around his length, slowly moving it back and forth. It was the first time you’d touched him there. At the movement, he dropped his head into the crook of your shoulder, cursing lightly.

You wanted to keep going so badly. You wanted to yank the towel off, flip him over and show him how you could make him feel. But you didn’t want to put any pressure whatsoever onto him.

“Listen, Spencer, I meant what I said, okay? We never have to do anything you aren’t a hundred percent sure that you wanna do. We can stop right here if you want. But….” You gently shifted underneath him, slowly sliding your panties down your legs, moving Spencer’s hand to rest right above your entrance. There was a sharp intake of breath above you and you looked up to see his eyes the size of the moon.

“If you want to do this,” you leaned in, gently nibbling his earlobe and whispering as quietly as you could, “I need you to fuck me right now.”

All resolve left in Spencer left him the moment the words escaped her perfectly full lips. His hands flew to hers, lifting them up above her head and pinning them there, delighting in the grunt that left her as their mouths collided yet again. This time, however, Spencer did not pull back.

“Fuck, Spencer!” she yelped, hands running through his hair, pulling him tight against her.

When he finally ran out of breath, he pulled back, leaving just enough space between them to say, “I want to. I’m-I’m ready.”

Her eyes shone with the love she’d declared moment earlier and Spencer’s heart swelled.

“Are you sure?”

Of course she wanted to make sure. She was only the best girlfriend ever. And that’s why Spencer knew he wanted to share himself with her. Spencer wanted her to know how special she was to him. He wanted to feel how special he was to her.

“I’m sure.” Then, not sure what had come over him, he leaned into her ear, voice dropping an octave, and muttered, “I’m ready to fuck you.”

He could have sworn he heard her growl under her breath as she shot right back, “Do it then. Doctor.”

God, something about that title got to him like nothing else. The implied authority that came with it was just too delicious when it rolled off her tongue.

Emboldened by the honorary, he quickly kissed a trail down her chest to her stomach, lightly stroking his tongue everywhere but where she wanted it.

“Mmf—Spencer…. Pleeease!”

His hand snapped over her mouth and she gasped at the sudden silence.

Okay, trust in the fact that Spencer had nooooo idea where what he said next came from.

“You want me to fuck you so bad? Huh? You think begging for it like a cheap fucking whore will make me wanna fuck you? You only get fucked when I say so. Understand me?”

Whatever she said was muffled under his hand which he kindly removed.

“What was that?”

“Yes,” she breathed, hands still where they had been pinned down, staying there only of her own accord. Beautiful.

Reaching one hand up to her breast to lightly play with her nipple, the other went low, gently circling the area around her clit.

“Yes, what?” he said with the most authority in his tone that he could muster.

For a moment it seemed she wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but when it hit her, Spencer swore he saw her … you know … twitch.

“Yes, Sir,” she said with a filthy moan, finally moving her hands into his hair, pulling toward her center, begging him to do something— anything.

And, oh, boy did he oblige.

Now, Spencer had never really been anywhere near a woman’s … parts … before. But! He’d read up on this subject plenty in the recent weeks in preparation. In theory, he knew just what to do. In practice ….

“FUCK! Yes, Oh my goooddddd, Spencerrrrr!”

Well, he must’ve been doing something right.

Holy motherfucking jesus fucking fucking christ!

How the fuck was he doing this?

Jolts of pleasure burst through your body with each stroke of his tongue against your clit. Before you could enjoy the small circles he was rubbing there for too long, he slipped a finger inside of you, lightly curling it upward and thrusting in and out, searching for the spot to drive you wild.

Again, how the fuck was he doing this?

The only possible explanation was that he’s secretly had sex a million and ten times, becoming so aware of what exactly drove a woman crazy that he knew exactly how to move between your legs.

But this was Spencer. He didn’t lie to you. So all of … this … was coming naturally to him.

And soon, you’d be too.

“Ah! Spencer, w-where is this c-coming from?”

His lips left you, pulling back just enough to give you a dazzling smile, his chin glistening gloriously.

“I’ve read over ten thousand pages of articles on pleasing a woman in the past week. Studies show that small circular motions of the tongue on the clitoris combined with one or two—”

“Spencer,” you panted, tightly grasping the wrist that was inches from your core, “I love you so much but if you don’t shut up right now—”

“—Hey, you asked.”

And he dove back down, continuing his ministrations, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of pure ecstasy. His tongue was flicking so quickly that you swore you saw stars. Every three or so seconds, a low moan left your throat, along with several curses and deep breaths.

The tension in your stomach was tightening, signifying the oncoming orgasm that was soon to come.

But all too quickly, and all too suddenly, Spencer withdrew, bringing his head back up to kiss you deeply, running his tongue along your lips and moaning onto your mouth as he continued to pump his fingers into you.

“You like this? You like feeling my fingers filling you up?”

“Yes,” you squeaked out, nails dragging down his back as you hoped and prayed he’d give you more. “Yes, please, Spencer….”

A sharp yank of your hair made your head fall back against the pillow, Spencer forcing you to meet his eyes. They were so dark. There was such desire behind them like you’d never seen from him before.

“Yes, what? Huh? Say it.”

You didn’t even need to think about what you were saying; the words sprang from your mouth with no effort at all, attempting any buzzwords that would set him off.

“I want you to fuck me, Spencer. I want to feel you fill me up and fuck me like I’m your little whore. I want you to hold me down while you do it, make me yours. I wanna be yours.”

He grunted, absentmindedly thrusting against your thigh as he listened to your words. When he spoke, you expected him to speak with the same commanding tone he’d been using, but were surprised to hear the familiar soft voice of your boyfriend.

“Hey,” he met your eyes, slightly frowning, “Is this okay? I mean … do you really want that?”

You didn’t even need to attempt to give him a reassuring smile; one came naturally.

“Of course, Spence. I want you. I’ll always want you.” Then, at his hesitation: “Do you want to take things slower? We can take a step back, just say the word.”

You placed your hand on his cheek, softly bringing his mind back to the present moment from where it had no doubt been drifting in waves of worry.

“I’m ready. I am ready. I want you,” he said, so gently, so sweetly that you knew with all of your being that he meant it.

More importantly, you know what else he meant. He wasn’t ready to say it yet, and you were fine with that. Besides, he probably knew that you knew. And if you both knew, why would he need to say it?

“Okay. Let’s go slow, okay?”

He nodded, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. It must’ve finally dawned on him that this was really happening.

“Now, I got tested a few weeks ago and everything came back negative. I’m on hormonal birth control and have been for a while now. There are condoms in the drawer there, but it’s totally up to you. I’m comfortable with whatever you are.”

You could see the gears in his mind turning. In true Spencer Reid fashion, he was weighing the risks and rewards. You expected him to want to use a condom, which was totally fine and made sense with how responsible he was. But you selfishly wanted to know what he felt like skin to skin inside of you.

Which is why it was such a surprise when he said—

“Let’s do it without.”

“Wait, really?”

He nodded, drawing small patterns on your stomach absentmindedly with one hand, the other stroking your hair.

“We’re both clean, little to no pregnancy risk. Plus I … I’d like to know how … um.”

“How it feels?” you offered.

He sighed, relieved to not have to say it.

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Yes! Yes, Spencer. That’s kind of what I was hoping you’d say.”

“Really?”

You nodded this time, bringing him in for a soft kiss, keeping it rather chaste as you slowly slipped a hand down, guiding his member to your entrance, delighting in the gasp he let slip as you positioned him.

Slowly, keeping your mouth against his, you used his cock to gently spread you open, pressing the head just against your core. Above you, he was practically vibrating with the effort of holding back.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” he whispered through gritted teeth.

Hooking your legs around his back, you withdrew your hand and clenched your legs, slowly pulling him into you.

Both of you moaned simultaneously at the feeling, Spencer’s face falling into an open expression of pure ecstasy.

“Oh my god,” he groaned once he was completely sheathed within you. The feeling of him, bare, inside of you was so much to comprehend. You could tell he was probably thinking the same thing. Actually, it looked like all his effort was going into staying still, waiting for you to get accustomed to his size.

You’d told him that you’d never been with someone who was nearly as … well-endowed as he. He must have really taken those words to heart.

“Can I-can I move now?” he muttered, clearly straining to stay still.

“Yes.”

The moment you said it, he pulled back, grunting in your ear at the feeling and slowly slid back in, gasping when he bottomed out.

“Oh god, Y/N….”

“Please, Spencer.” You yanked him back by the hair so he could see your eyes, see how seriously you meant what you were about to say. “Fuck me.”

One of the many things you loved about Spencer: he always listened to you. Sometimes, to a fault.

Because the instant you asked, he delivered, pounding into you so hard that stars exploded in your eyes with each thrust. His hands dug so hard into your legs you were sure they’d leave bruises. With each thrust, his hipbones made sharp contact with your inner thighs and you grunted at the pain.

He started to hesitate, clearly clocking the pained expression on your face.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No! Please— oh god— don’t fucking stop, Spencer.”

His hands were everywhere all at once, pulling your hair, grasping your neck, your chest, your legs. Every time he pulled out of you, he would hesitate for a half-second, just enough to make you think he was done, then he’d fuck back into you, driving you further up the bed with each thrust.

You would have been moaning louder if you weren’t so scared of missing a single word he was saying.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good. It’s really-it’s really tight.”

Laughing breathily in his ear, you said, “Yeah, well. That happens when it’s been a while.” Small moans broke through as he increased pace, hands slipping around your waist, pulling you down roughly onto him with each thrust. Your hips bumped together roughly every time, connecting painfully, wonderfully.

“Oh yeah?” Spencer lifted one of your legs up over his shoulder, driving much deeper now. “Maybe your tight little cunt just isn’t used to getting fucked properly. Tell me, did the guys you were with before fuck you like this?”

Not able to bring yourself to speak, he pulled out completely and placed a solid hand around your throat, barely cutting off the circulation.

“Answer me, now!”

“No! Uhn— Spencer…. No, I’ve never been fucked like this. You’re so … mmm…. so big!”

He reentered you sharply at the last word, continuing the hard pounding only this time, moving a hand to roughly circle your clit unrelentingly.

“Fuck!”

His other hand was digging into your ass and his thrusts were starting to falter.

“Y/N … I’m not sure how much … how much longer I can …”

So lost in the pure bliss he was giving you, you barely were able to process what he’d said. When you did, you made sure to reassure him.

“Do it, come with me.”

“Fuck, Y/N. I-I lo—”

You placed a finger on his mouth, such a gentle gesture compared to the way he was pounding into you below that his eyes snapped open, locking with yours.

All you did was smile at him, an expression filled with as much energy as you could spare right now. A slight nod told him all he needed to know and he let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t need to say it right now. You knew and he knew, anyway.

He stroked you twice more before you burst, suddenly so overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside you as your insides clenched around him. He felt so much bigger as you came and after a few more thrusts, you felt a warm sensation fill you up as he yelped softly above you.

You both came down from the high so slowly, eyes locked and breathing heavily.

Surprisingly, he didn’t collapse onto you as had happened with so many other men. He was using all his remaining strength to stay perfectly still above you, staring into your eyes with a shocked expression on his face.

Finally, he shook out of it, pupils contracting and gently pulling out, both of you groaning at the feeling.

Laying down next to you, it was a full minute before either of you spoke.

“Wow.”

“Hah. Yeah.”

You turned to him and he did the same, an adorable smile gracing his face.

“So? How was it? Everything you expected?”

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes momentarily before answering.

“Words aren’t usually lost on me. I always seem to know what to say even in the most ineffable of times. That…. That was indescribable.”

You weren’t sure how much more praise you could take; your heart was already so full and the more he filled it, the more you felt like you were about to burst.

“You can say that again. I must say I’m rather ... surprised. No offense! I promise! But, well, for a virgin you sure as hell don’t fuck like one.”

He smiled doofily, placing a hand on your cheek and stroking the skin under your eye, his expression shifting to one of worry.

“You’re crying….”

You pulled away, quickly wiping your eyes.

“Sorry…. That… that happens sometimes.”

“Hey,” he pulled you back to him, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Don’t ever apologize. It actually means that there are very strong feelings between us. In fact, it’s referred to as postcoital dysphoria and is normally caused by a particularly powerful orgasm. It’s a way of your body releasing the pent up feelings.”

Spencer Reid somehow found a way to be adorable while talking scientifically about orgasms and crying. What the hell did you do to deserve this man? You loved him so much and you’d spend the rest of your life proving it to him without hesitation. He didn’t even need to say it back.

But, as always, Spencer couldn’t seem to stop surprising you.

“Y/N … I love you.”

The tears came quicker now and soft sobs left your chest. He pulled you against him, you tucking your head under his chin and smiling at the speed his arms found their way around you.

“I know,” you muttered into his chest, feeling him smile above you.

“We just had sex, I told you I loved you, and you’re quoting Star Wars?”

You pulled back to beam up at him.

“Is that not the reason you love me?”

He smiled down at you, his nose scrunching up ever so slightly as it always did when he was happy.

“One of the many. Another very new one being added to the memory banks after tonight,” he grinned, tapping the side of his head.

“Oh yeah? You love me ‘cause of the way I let you fuck me like a little whore?” you muttered in a low voice, wiggling your eyebrows as his face fell.

“Y-yeah….” he was breathless again, watching you intently.

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, you said the very thing you knew that he knew he wanted you to.

“Wanna do it again?”

“Oh fuck yes.”

And he climbed back on top of you, attaching his lips to yours and kissing you with a whole new passion.

Because he loved you and you loved him. And you both knew it. And that made it all worth it.

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